Looking Back at 2020 Before September Begins
Until August, I thought time was flying by. But September already? Diary companies start selling 2021 calendars and diaries around September. Because September is the month right before the fourth quarter, and the next quarter is already next year. It's the time to plan and prepare for what's next, I suppose. For our company's fiscal year, we've already started the third quarter, meaning half the year has passed. Lately, I feel drained, yet new plans keep surfacing… To turn these tangled thoughts into concrete plans, I felt I needed to briefly reflect on 2020.
I saw a tweet saying the birthday party scene with Dasong in the movie ⟨Parasite⟩ was like "if 2020 was a movie scene." Considering what happened after that in the film, it feels quite fitting. Before 2020 began, all sorts of things were said: questions about what would happen to Twitter's progress bar 201x account, or how February 2, 2020, being a symmetrical date (20200202) that wouldn't come again for n years meant we had to do something special. Looking back now, those thoughts seem rather cute. Back then, I never dreamed 2020 would become a year swept up in a pandemic, where cancellations and postponements became routine, the world's weakest foundations crumbled, and I endlessly lost faith in humanity due to the selfishness of people.
What was my state of mind as I began January 2020? Crushed by fatigue that had built since December, on the verge of declaring my escape from life, many opportunities came my way. I gratefully attended the annual event of the Beomseopha group, Malmandul (I heard a lot of words), where Jin-ah invited me, and met many ambitious women. I received a request to participate as an Afyou Coach, and I was able to attend the HCI Korea conference, where I earned the nickname "Red Bean Squirrel." (It was postponed due to COVID and I ultimately couldn't go.)
In February, I started the Payday Social Club at Villa Sunshine. I was still struggling hard to find my work and my place. I read ⟨Managing Software with Scrum⟩ and proposed something I wanted to do, receiving the response "Just give it a try," which made me burst with motivation. I filed a claim with Dano regarding their perception of vegan-oriented students, and my body ached from inflammation all over. COVID's impact began in earnest. Conferences were canceled. I was denied entry to a hospital for not wearing a mask. Finally, in the last week of February, my company announced special leave. My burst of motivation was abruptly cut short, leaving me disappointed.
In March, I launched a service I'd managed for six months. Even though it was a pre-launch at the center, writing the announcement post made me incredibly nervous. It was when COVID-19 was starting to rage, so every changed environment felt new. Shamelessly, the pandemic had zero negative impact on my livelihood. Switching virtual backgrounds on Zoom while chatting with IT industry friends every Sunday night, or trying out a Notion workshop via Zoom – it all felt fresh and fun. It was a time when I felt a lot of warmth inside, and I wanted to share that warmth widely with those around me.
In April, I went on a hotel staycation with a friend and did a Q1 retrospective. We rented a business lounge for two hours, each did our own retrospective, shared our thoughts, and made plans together for the next quarter. After the retrospective, we drank copious amounts of wine here and there and got drunk. The next day, I went running on the Jamsugyo Bridge and realized I now have the power to turn unhappiness back into happiness. I resolved not to mix nameless anxiety into happy moments.
In May, I gave a short presentation introducing our service at the company-wide conference. True to my roots in a speech club (?), I've given countless presentations, but I've never been as nervous before starting as I was for this online one. I think part of it was anxiety about whether I truly knew what I was talking about. The thought of many people watching the video probably added to the jitters. Regardless, I finished the presentation (better than expected), and after much deliberation, I moved to a new project. I've always wanted to work where I'm truly needed. That's why I switched projects.
June was busy, filled with biking, a cool apartment, and work. At my new team, I tried a few things I'd long wanted to challenge myself with and felt the joy of work. I rode my bike a lot (seriously…) and could feel myself getting stronger in real time. I visited my friend's house in Hoengseong and successfully completed a vegan week. I also welcomed a new friend to the office: Honyang-i (a Hansatoy baby tiger plushie).
July started off badly. Carrying worries from work in my head during my bike commute home, I fell on a hill. Luckily, it wasn't broken, but the bruising was severe, leaving one leg almost zombie-like. It hurt to even put my foot on the ground, so I couldn't get around well, and of course, I couldn't ride my bike. I planned to ride once I felt a bit better, but then the endless rainy season started. There was also that hellish week marked by Ahn Hee-jung, Son Jung-woo, and Park Won-soon. I needed to relieve the stress piling up from all sides, but without cycling, it just kept building inside me. So I bought a Switch and Animal Crossing. That was my only comfort.
August brought only events where I couldn't be honest. It was still hard to honestly open up about anything, and I disliked myself for being unable to do better. I hated how I swayed like a reed in the wind, so I created several opportunities for change. I published an article on Brunch. (I write my work journal in Notion.) I did an interview with Directory Magazine on the topic of month-end settlements. (Read between the numbers)
Now, as September begins, I feel the gap widening between my efforts and the opportunities others have given me. To my depressed self, a friend said, "Don't we all have at least two sides to us?" Hearing that, I realized, oh, I guess I didn't want that. I wasn't honest, but I wanted to be honest. I wanted to be honest, at least within the boundaries I desired for myself. Now, I feel like I'm neither one thing nor the other. I feel like I've just become someone pretending to be something I'm not. It feels like I've become the very thing I feared most.
When I said it felt like I was on a high-speed train heading straight for a garbage dump, another friend told me to just zip through the dump on that high-speed train and race towards an orchard where apples are ripening. Right. I am an apple. An orchard where apples grow well is my final destination. I'd forgotten. Now that things have come to this, I have no choice but to look back at what I said in April and run hard toward that orchard again. Not by making grand plans or dreaming of dramatic changes, but simply by cherishing and tending to what I already had, like the heart of someone growing fruit. Isn't that the kind of heart I need right now? Things will definitely get better; I have strength within me.
> In every happy moment, I was anxious about the misfortune that would someday come. I was never fully happy, always a little sad in every moment. I'm still sad sometimes, but I'm never unhappy. I don't mix unfounded anxiety into my present happiness. This isn't an expectation that nothing bad will ever happen to me, but rather the belief that I have the power to turn misfortune back into happiness. - 2020.04.19