Flights, fears, and family

This is the kind of story you read in memoirs.

And the kind you watch on a movie theater screen, heart racing as you anxiously await the ending after two hours of crossing your fingers and begging for a happy ending.

It’s the kind of story you hear once and certainly never forget because it almost sounds too good to be true, fictional at best.

And I almost missed it.

Thirteen of us ventured to South Korea with a grandiose dream: to help my husband’s grandmother reconnect with the long-lost relatives she hadn’t seen or spoken to in over 50 years.

And in the worst case, find closure and peace knowing she tried to reconnect with her siblings before the end, should we be unable to find them.

The plan to reconnect was rooted in the kind of optimism that makes me look back and say, “I can’t believe that was our plan. How and why did we expect that to work?!”

We didn’t conduct any ancestral research to locate her relatives before arriving in South Korea. Instead, she wanted to visit the village where she grew up—Eungwon-ri in Cheonan—with the hope that one or more of her siblings still lived there, or that we could easily locate them from there.

Before we headed to Eungwon-ri, we spent a few fun-filled, jam-packed days in Seoul. We strolled through Bukchon Hanok Village, visited Gyeongbokgung Palace, sipped coffee out of toilet-shaped mugs at Ddong Cafe (aka the “poop cafe”) in the Ssamzigil shopping complex, and overindulged in ramen, fried chicken, baked goods, Soju, and any other mouth-watering delicacies we couldn’t resist.

Seoul welcomed us with open arms and filled our cups (and our bellies). And then, we journeyed from Seoul to Eungwon-ri.

It’s incredible how quickly heavy feelings, hopes, and dreams can fill the air we breathe. We moved from vacation mode to anxiety-filled wonderings and “What if it doesn’t work out like we planned? What if we meet the outcome we aren’t wishing for?”

When we arrived at our hotel in Eungwon-ri, Botanik Hotel Cheonan, we immediately began the search, unsure if we’d find success or how long it might take. We carried a sheet of notebook paper with the names and approximate ages of my husband’s grandmother’s siblings, and we had fully charged phones with Google Translate at the ready.

Initially, we struck out. The hotel staff and employees at the nearby coffee shop didn’t recognize the names on our list. What else would you expect when making a wish and hoping it’d magically come true?

To our delight, though, the people we spoke with were gracious, friendly, and generous. They rooted for us, and they promised to help spread the news of our arrival, helping increase our odds from all sides.

A couple of hours into our search, as we strolled up and down the streets of Eungwon-ri, a woman working inside a restaurant that was closed for the day invited us inside. She motioned and gestured boldly, waving her hands and her phone through the air.

So, we filled her restaurant as she continued making phone calls while trying to explain to us who she was speaking with and what was about to happen. A palpable amount of anxiety, chaos, and excitement filled the air.

A few semi-decent translated messages later, we decoded that the woman was on the phone with my husband’s grandmother’s brother, and he would be at our location in half an hour.

In those waiting moments, we hoped—hoped that we had provided enough information to find the right people, hoped that luck was on our side, and hoped that we hadn’t misinterpreted her message through the language barrier.

Thirty minutes later, a car pulled up right outside the restaurant, as promised. We stormed the parking lot as a man got out of the car and walked toward our group.

In one of the most unforgettable and life-altering moments I’ve ever witnessed, we saw my husband’s grandmother reconnect with her brother after being apart for over 50 years.

The best part? We found him in a mere few hours after starting the search, thanks to the people of the village.

And so the story goes; we saw the happiest ending one could have ever imagined. In the hours and days that followed, my husband’s grandmother reconnected with all her living siblings, as well as some nieces and nephews. They welcomed us with open hearts, and we spent most of the remainder of the trip with them. Fifty-plus years is a long time, in some cases, a lifetime to be apart, and yet, we quickly made up for it with new memories and new family ties.

It’s been two years (to the day) since we left South Korea and journeyed home, and I still can’t believe I was part of it. I almost let debilitating travel anxiety and fear of the unknown win.

When I share this part with people, I receive questions like, “Why wouldn’t you want to go?! What an incredible opportunity!” And I’ve realized how difficult it is to explain how anxiety and fear can feel, especially when traveling so far from home. Believe me, it’s a feeling I wish had an on-and-off switch so I could control it. But sometimes, sitting in the gray space of big, hard feelings is precisely where we need to be.

Looking back, there were a few drivers that nudged me to go on the trip, and they’re levers you can use, too, when making some of the most intentional decisions of your life:

• Anticipated regret suggests that our potential for future regret can influence our decision-making. In other words, we make choices based on the regret we believe we might experience in the future and ask questions like:

  • “If I say no, will I regret it when I’m 90?”

  • “Will I wonder what the unlived path feels like if I say no?”

  • “Will I feel worse missing out or trying something new and feeling uncomfortable?”

  • “How often do I get a chance like this? Will there ever be another chance?”

• One of my favorite psychological theories is Abraham Maslow’s famous Hierarchy of Needs. According to Maslow, humans are motivated by a series of needs arranged in a pyramid, with the core idea being that we must meet the needs at the bottom of the pyramid before we can pursue higher-level needs near the top. At the very top of the pyramid lies self-actualization, representing the need to fulfill one’s potential, and peak experiences play a crucial role in this process. Peak experiences refer to intense moments of pure joy, elation, and transformation. When anticipating a potential peak experience, we ask:

  • “Does this experience have the potential to transform me for the better?”

  • “Could this experience create a memory I’ll remember on my deathbed?”

  • “Will this experience move me closer to the person I want to become?”

  • “Am I willing to be surprised by life? To surrender control and let this experience play out and shape me, even when it feels scary?”

• At the highest level, we might weigh the opportunity cost or what we lose by making a choice. It’s about what you don’t do or receive as a result of your choice. We ask questions like:

  • “What am I going to lose by not doing this?”

  • “If I don’t do this now, what am I choosing instead?”

  • “Will this opportunity ever present itself again in this exact form?”

  • “If not now, when?”

Someday, we’ll look back on our lives and the choices we made on every winding path—the decisions we chose to pursue and those we left unexplored. Chase the opportunities that will make you look back and feel that you lived fully, felt deeply, and made space for once-in-a-lifetime moments that will never repeat themselves. Sometimes, the most intentional choice, no matter how difficult, is the boldest one.

P.S. I had the opportunity to write a short essay about our trip to South Korea for a major media publisher. I can’t wait to share it! Stay tuned!

Time Well Spent: Weekly Roundup

1. I’m an agreeable person, and as part of this, I’m learning that I’ve unintentionally muted some joyful moments and opportunities to form an opinion about something. Over the last year or so, I’ve started tuning in to what lights me up, and I have a favorite bike ride route through the mountains! It’s from Frisco to Breckenridge and back (or you can start in Silverthorne). I rode it last weekend with a good friend for the second time, and I loved it.

2. beehiiv now offers their updated web builder for all paid plans, which means a new Time Intentional website is coming soon! I started working on the new website and will prioritize this in the coming weeks. If you have suggestions (or a testimonial you want to share that I’ll feature on the site), email me!

3. I’ve followed and read Justin Welsh’s content for years. Despite being a big-name influencer across social media, I enjoy his content and feel that many of his beliefs align with Time Intentional. He recently launched Unsubscribe, a newsletter and private membership that helps you build a life you love, supported by work you enjoy. If walking a non-traditional work path is top of mind for you, consider subscribing*.

The Takeaways

• You can be an agreeable person and have your own opinions. Pick your favorites. What are your favorite activities? Foods? Books? Songs? Places? How do your favorites make you feel? Elated? Joyful?

• Intentional projects aren’t always “set and forget it” activities. Improvements, no matter how small, can help you grow and evolve. How can you make minor improvements on a project you have already started?

• Do you want life to fill in the gaps between your work or work to support the life you want to live (and love)? What’s required of you to take steps toward what you want?

I’m Alyssa Towns, and this is Time Intentional, a newsletter exploring what it means to spend our limited (and precious) time intentionally. Extend your love and support by sharing this newsletter with someone you know or buying me a coffee! ☕

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