Dreams "to be continued"...

We are all brothers and sisters. We are One from One mother. This is a summer squash plant with many different shapes of flowers. Even though flowers and branches are all different, all are attached to ONE stem of the summer squash plant and to the mother earth, like all different human beings attached to the mother earth.

This is my family story and our dreams.




According to my grandmother, my dad was a child prodigy, mastering three languages at the age of five. He loves reading and writing, exploring his knowledge by reading highly philosophical books and poems as a little boy. But, the events of his childhood were unable to support his talent. The 36 years of the Japanese Occupation of Korea (1910-1945) impacted on Korea very negatively and had very difficult to survive. Thousands of Koreans, including several members of my extended family, were raped, tortured and slaughtered by the Japanese until America ended the war with the dropping of the two atomic bombs.



When my dad was young, Japanese forced him to dress like the Japanese and speak only Japanese, no more Korean. No more Korean clothes and no more Korean name. Like all others, he had a Japanese name. He was forced to attend school speaking only Japanese, where he was taught how to stab the White Devils (American), using bamboo spear and how to throw a stone at the White Devils. After school, my grandma had to educate my dad and my aunts secretly and assured them that they are Korean, not Japanese.



It was common at that time that young Korean males were used as human bullet shields at war front line, and young Korean females were taken to be sex slaves for Japanese soldiers. Most of those taken away did not come back to my land, but died where they were taken.



When my dad was 14 years old, Japanese policemen were looking for my dad to send to the war. Japanese took many young Korean males as little as 10 years old in order to use as bullet shields. My grandmother lost everything at the age of 13--her mother, her father, her only brother, and her house from greedy people, and later lost a lot more, including three more sons and two missing daughters. She cried in silence and in the rain, so nobody could notice her crying. But, my grandmother told everything to the Moon--only in the night. She told everything what she felt and what she wanted to do to the Moon. Only Moon heard her crying. Only Moon saw her crying.

That's the way she saved herself, she survived, and she saved her remaining children. My dad was only son remaining of her own who can carry our blood and our family legacy, and she could not afford losing my dad. Without telling anybody, she dug up a cave secretly in the kitchen and all by herself in which to hide my dad. She didn’t want her only surviving son to be used as a human bullet shield. For many months, she provided my dad with rice balls to sustain him and a chamber pot. She feared for his safety and my dad developed claustrophobia and became very weak; my grandmother could not put my dad in the cave anymore. However, he was eventually found by the Japanese policemen who beat him until he was near death. My grandma recalled that she thought that she lost my dad. When she was crying, surprisingly she found that my dad was still breathing. She could hear weak breathing. My grandmother did her best to save my dad. In order to ease the pain from the beating and restore him to health, my grandmother performed many healing rituals. She climbed mountains to find herb roots to simmer to make medicinal healing teas. My grandmother saved my dad.

A few years later in my dad’s early twenties, the Korean War began with the invasion of the South by North Korean troops on June 25, 1950. Without our involvement, the Korean peninsula was split between the US and Russia in 1945 at the 38th parallel upon the surrender of Japan. The United States occupied South Korea and the Soviet Union occupied North Korea, which resulted in the Korean War. In order to be one country, this War started, a conflict between the Communist, North and the non-Communist, South. Many Chinese and American young soldiers died in addition to the countless Koreans casualties. It took three years and one month, a prolonged treacherous fighting, which was ended on July 27, 1953 without the signing of a peace treaty. Sixty years later, we are still at war— Real peace has not been shining at my birth land.

During three years and one month of the Korean War, most young Korean males were drafted as mandatory summon to fight for the War, and my dad had to be at War, fighting. He suffered from anxiety so badly and almost died several times from the frequent bombing and gun-fire during the Korean War. Even though my dad practiced so many times, he could not pull the trigger to kill other human beings. He was beaten badly because of that, and one day he tried to escape. But he got caught by seven American soldiers, who beat him until he was near-death. Everybody thought that my dad died. My grandmother did her best to save my dad again. She made many healing teas every day. Also, she made rice wine for my dad, the only thing she could do to ease his pain. He continued to drink alcohol after his body had healed. During the many months of recovery, my dad drank more and more to forget the physical and psychological trauma and pain. He became an alcoholic. With my grandmother’s wisdom and determination, my father survived, but his wings were clipped, and he never had a chance to fly.

I often wonder if I had been given a gun and had a choice “To Kill to Survive” or “To Die”, what would I do? What would be my choice? Would I be able to pull the trigger at somebody?

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Like my dad, I do not think I can pull the trigger at somebody. I would rather die than kill others. Even if my dad could not pull the trigger at somebody, and his dreams could not be achieved, my dad’s dream resides in my blood and in my soul. His soul is living with me because he loves me very much as his last child.



I never understood why my dad became an alcoholic. I never understood why my dad sang his favorite song when drinking, “Don’t Cry Crying birds”: Why are you crying, Crying birds?--- Don’t cry, Crying birds--- Don’t cry for yesterday--- Yesterday will not come again---- We will not come again---- After death, only mountain and sky are remaining- --- Don’t regret the thousand dreams---- You could not achieved---- Don’t regret anyone for anything---- Don’t cry, Crying birds.



When he sang, as a little baby girl, I sang with him as loud as I could, without knowing the meaning. Without understanding his crying heart! My mom one day counted how many times my dad repeated the same song--it was One hundred four times, and she fell asleep. I never understood the meaning of the song until I had a near-death experience due to a brain aneurysm rupture.

Until the rupture…

After the rupture, I knew the meaning of the song.

After the rupture, I could see his suffering and pain.

After the rupture, I understood why my dad could not achieve his dreams.

After the rupture, I could see all the innocent people's suffering and death because of the Greedy people and because of the Wars.

After the rupture, I know that "War is not an answer."

After the rupture, I know that I have to stop all the wars without shedding a drop of blood.

After the rupture, I felt we are all connected and we are one.

After the rupture, I know what I am destined to be...bring worldwide peace and love because we lost our true heart--our beautiful soul.



I am the creation of my dad’s and my mom’s love and unity. That means I have the blood of my dad’s dream and my mom’s dream. I have the blood of my dad’s heart and my mom’s heart and their souls. I have the blood of my ancestor’s desire. I have the blood of our ancestor’s love for the world. I have the blood of our ancestor’s wisdoms for the future and our children.

I know what the true love is because I have received the pure and the endless love from my dad, my mom, and my grandma. But, covered with their extreme sacrifices, suffering, and exhaustion, I know that I am blessed!



Now, I want to spread this true love to all others so that they too can be healed, and will ideally pay it forward so that all nations can be healed and ultimately the world can be at peace through the themes of nourishment, love, and compassion.



We are here to be perfect from imperfect. We are here to be loved. We are here to be respected. We are here to feel what the true love is.

We need to find out our pure heart from being Greedy.

I stand in solidarity through our grandmothers in my HAPPY garden dreaming of my dreams. These are my dreams:

I am here to find our lost hearts for each individual!

I am here to spread what TRUE LOVE is!

I am here to stop all wars without shedding a drop of blood!

I am here to bring worldwide peace!

I am here to make Oneness!

I am here to make undivided whole!

From My Happy Garden.