If
there’s one thing that I know about Seoul, it’s that it’s completely chaotic
and overwhelming. And the heart of the
chaos (if chaos could have a heart) seems to be the Namdaemun market. If you want all of your senses to be
assaulted and overwhelmed at once, this is the place to be. From what I hear, it used to be even
worse!
Back
in the day, there was a very loose system of addresses in Seoul. (Honestly, I can’t really tell how that’s
different from now, but whatever…)
People who lived outside the city didn’t have to know the exact address
in order to send mail to people in the capital.
They could get away with writing something like, “please deliver to
Jongno, the Kim’s house,” (but in Hangul, of course) and, miraculously, the
letter would (usually) make it to its intended recipient. But the Namdaemun neighborhood was a whole
other world. This area was so insanely
chaotic that even this seemingly precise and infallible system fell apart. “Please deliver to Namdaemun” became an
expression meaning an act of complete and total futility. In other words, you can send it, but there’s
no way in Namdaemun that your letter is ever going to get to the right place. You can try, but it’s not going to happen. There’s just too much chaos in the way.
This
got me thinking about the “please deliver to Namdaemun” activities in my own
life. What futile and ridiculous tasks
have I been attempting? Where are there
areas where the chaos is just too great for these attempts to have any hope of
hitting their target? I like to imagine
these useless attempts being sent out into the world only to wander in circles
for days and weeks on end, running to go nowhere. At least it lends a sense of humor to the
frustration.
It’s
a metaphor for communication, too- when there’s just so much chaos and
possibility for wrong turns and errors in between us and our audience, it’s hard
or even impossible to get our true point across. Imagine trying to organize lunch plans or a
complete a work project or explain your feelings to your partner with the
“please deliver to Namdaemun” system.
What communication systems are in place right now that are almost as
laughably chaotic or even futile? And
how can they be less Namdaemun-ny?
The
more I thought about it, the more I started to realize that maybe my whole life
is a “please deliver to Namdaemun” task.
I just go off into the world, no clue where I’m supposed to end up or
how to get there, or even how to know when I’ve arrived at my destination. I’m out there, wandering semi-aimlessly around
the overwhelming chaos that is today’s world, kinda sorta trying (but not
really) to get somewhere specific, but also not really knowing where or in what
general direction that place might be. And
maybe there’s nothing wrong with wandering aimlessly around Namdaemun- it is
endlessly interesting and full of incredible things to see and eat and explore. But generally, at some point, I do actually want
to get where I’m going, even when we take the very long, wonderfully chaotic,
marvelously overwhelming way around.
So
then, what’s the solution to “please deliver to Namdaemun?” How can I reduce the chaos between where my
message is and where it needs and wants to go?
How can I increase the probability that my intended audience will even
have the opportunity to hear my words? That I myself will get wherever it is we’re headed? The Namdaemun hopelessness can (largely) be
avoided with a little information: an address.
All it takes is a target- an idea of exactly where I want myself, my
efforts, my messages to go- to avoid the chaos and futility. So write it down. Where do I want to end up? Where do I want my messages to land? What’s the end goal, the ‘destination’? Where is all of this headed (you know… eventually)? Be as specific as possible. It’s not a guarantee that our work or words
will travel as the crow flies (or even in any straight line at all, ever- there
are definitely no straight lines in Namdaemun, and the long way is actually pretty
incredible), but at least there’s a chance it will get there… eventually. Also, a map would probably help…
* * *
(This post was
written after visiting the Seoul Museum of
History in Seoul, South Korea.)
