Inside the parked car, I hesitate over whether to return the camera
Even after parking, I can’t get out with the camera bag. I think that hesitation holds both returning the item and facing that person again.
Scenes
- Even after parking, I can’t get out — The camera bag is on the passenger seat, but I only park in front of the building where we agreed to meet. The thought that I should go and the urge to turn back keep taking turns.
- Meeting again feels bigger than the item — I thought all I had to do was return the camera, but opening the door means sitting across from that person again. So even one item comes attached to the next scene in the relationship.
- In the I Ching, the two matters aren’t read as one question — When I open the I Ching, I don’t read the hexagram as a verdict on whether to go or stay. I separate returning the item from whether to grow close again, and look at them as different burdens.
- Tonight, write the question in two parts — On paper, write “return the camera” and “face that person again” separately. Even if you answer only one first, what’s holding you back may become a little clearer.
- You can know without deciding everything at once — Some days, even after looking at the hexagram, you can’t get out of the car. That doesn’t mean there’s no answer. Look instead at whether you’re carrying both the item to return and the relationship you might open again.
Stories by Haewol
- Haewol
- Even after the funeral, I’m still unsure whether to leave the group or stay.
- Sitting in the parked car, I try not to call Mom first.
- In the hospital waiting room, she imagines welcoming new customers.
- Even while shopping, I can't bring myself to say it.
- By the rainy window, I’m unsure whether we should manage our money together.
- Even while folding laundry, I weigh whether to go into business with someone or go it alone.
- When I’m alone in my room, I wonder if it’s okay to rest today.
- I spent the whole afternoon staring at the guarantee form.