Letting the Earth Catch Up to My Soul
Time is a funny thing.
Sometimes it stretches like prayer beads between continents. Other times it loops back on itself, and you end up living the same Thursday twice.
That’s what today felt like—like time bowed politely and let me live twice before letting go.
After 12 days in South Korea—where the BTS Festa unfolded like a dream inside a memory—I woke up, boarded a plane at Incheon, and somehow landed in Los Angeles… before I even left. Time didn’t just fold—it held me in suspension. And somewhere between the bibimbap and the drama reruns, I realized: my body was flying home, but my spirit was still walking the streets of Seoul.
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” —Ecclesiastes 3:1
✈️ Departure: When You Leave a Place, But Not Really
We checked out of our hotel at 7:45 AM. The sky was a pale silver, still holding the breath of the night before. The shuttle arrived promptly at 8. Luggage loaded. Eyes half-closed. Hearts quietly bracing.
Incheon Airport was its usual mix of sterile efficiency and sensory chaos. We queued up, dropped off our bags, and waited while my coworker hunted down her tax refund like it was a final boss level. Then, passport out. Security. Immigration. A long walk to Gate 21. And a surprise reunion with Margie—in the bathroom, of all places. (Because apparently, even in liminal spaces, the world is still small.)
The air inside the plane felt stale with anticipation—the kind that says, “You’re not the same person who boarded last time.”
🍱 Midair Meals & Memory Miles
In-flight food doesn’t usually deserve its own paragraph, but that bibimbap? That kalbi? Worth mentioning. It felt like Korea was sending me off with one last care package, seasoned with nostalgia and gochujang.
I watched a Korean movie called Handsome Guys—a quirky mix of comedy and horror that actually held my attention. It was the kind of offbeat, ridiculous fun that made the flight feel lighter, even as my body ached for rest. After that, I looped two dramas on my phone, listened to Killin’ It Girl by j-hope, Telepathy by BTS, Who by Jimin, and somewhere over the Pacific, finally surrendered to sleep—my head full of concerts, coffee shops, and the lingering glow of everything I’d just lived.
I kept replaying Seoul moments midair—Jungkook’s voice, cherry blossoms by the Han. Because as Tennessee Williams wrote:
“Time is the longest distance between two places.” —Tennessee Williams
And sometimes, two places exist in one soul.
🌴 Arrival: LAX and the Strange Stillness of Familiar Places
We landed at 6:33 AM. The city was just waking up. And I, somehow, was both arriving and unraveling.
Immigration took two hours. Two hours of zigzagging lines, TSA stares, and the subtle panic of wondering if your luggage made it. Eventually, I found my way to the transit center, then into an Uber, and finally to my car.
From there, the day became a blur of normal life trying to reassert itself.
Trader Joe’s. Car wash. Lunch. An unfinished attempt to unpack. A four-hour nap I didn’t plan. A drama episode I’ve already forgotten. And then suddenly—night.
“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” —Matthew 11:28
💭 Soul Insights from a Reentry Day
1. Time doesn’t always move forward—it processes.
Jet lag is the body’s way of asking your soul to slow down. Today was permission to reintegrate, not rush.
2. Unpacking is emotional, not just logistical.
The suitcase can wait. Sometimes the weight you carry off a plane isn’t physical—it’s everything you felt over there that hasn’t found a drawer yet.
3. Normal is sacred.
Washing your car after a trip might feel like a chore, but it’s actually a form of returning. An anchor in a drifting timeline.
4. Joy lingers longer when you don’t force it.
I didn’t write, clean, or even finish a drama today—and that’s okay. What matters is that I’m here, and I’m whole.
5. Some days are for existing, not excelling.
Not every day has to be productive to be meaningful. Today was about catching up—not with tasks, but with myself.
“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.” —Zechariah 4:10
🌙 Final Thoughts: I’m Still in Transit
If I’m honest, part of me is still standing in the Army Zone line. Part of me is still watching Jin sing Spring Day with J-Hope. Part of me is still walking past Haeundae Beach in Busan and sipping blue lemonade in a café.
But the rest of me is here. In my bed. In my city. In my life.
And that’s the strange beauty of travel—it makes your everyday life feel a little more chosen.
Not something you returned to by default… but something you stepped back into on purpose.
124 hours later, I’ve finally landed.
And tonight, I let the Earth catch up.
🕊️ Same Thursday Twice
same Thursday twice—
the clouds didn’t argue,
they just carried me home.
📘 Many of the haikus in my book were born in these kinds of quiet thresholds—where time folds, memory lingers, and the soul whispers what it’s ready to release.
👉 Read more in 17 Syllables of Me: A Collection of Haiku and Heart. Now available on Amazon.
© 2025 Amelie Chambord
Soul Path Insights 
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