Pockets of improbability
In order to receive the improbable, I stay in alignment with the idea of ‘exceptions’. I firmly hold the belief that in between every probability of the probable, there are pockets of improbability that can be guided to me with a coaxing gentleness (much like you might coax a cat to you.)
When I was 19 years old I dropped out of my private liberal arts school in favor of my hometown, my friends, my parent’s house, and community college. Back then, I smoked weed like crazy. Not being able to enjoy my habit in my parent’s house, I learned to find pockets of public spaces where I could sit quietly and enjoy my high without anyone walking by me. I could smoke in these places if I wanted to. I didn’t have to worry about being found here. These spaces are not supposed to be noticed; they’re a side note of functional construction. The alleyways between buildings, alcoves of backdoors that nobody uses, trees and green spaces only meant to add aesthetic value. It felt like these spaces were planned and constructed so that I could enjoy myself.
When it comes to manifestation, it’s exactly the same. All I have to do is believe that there is a little space in the energetic field where what I want exists, and it’s only mine. I don’t have to share, and I don’t have to worry about someone finding it before me because nobody else is looking for this. People might see it and their eyes just pass over it, because they wouldn’t recognize the value in it. It takes some time to find, because it's a special, hidden space- it’s not for everyone. Yet these spaces are ready to be claimed by their next owner, the person most ready to wait for perfect timing.
When I started looking for the apartment I currently live in, I wanted a lot of things that nobody in Seoul would expect to find at the price point I had. I was looking for:
A building where every floor is its own apartment, so that I didn’t have to worry about being loud while I sing/record my music.
Multiple, spacious rooms (the most popular style of apartment at my price point resembles a hallway, and the only room with its own door is the bathroom).
Could not be on the first floor of the building (that’s where the bugs and trash go 🤢).
Pre-furnished
Allows pets
In a popular area somewhat near the clubs- I worked overnights as a DJ and I wanted to go home straightaway after we closed at 5am.
All for 500,000 KRW a month (about $375 USD).
I waited 4 months to find this place, and when I first began my search the realtor took me to the absolute bottom of the barrel places. They were dark, dirty, and in random alleyways up giant hills. I wanted to ask him what the hell was wrong with him for bringing me there, but I didn’t know how to say that in Korean.
Those apartments were the thermometer that showed me how close I was to the dream apartment I wanted- disturbingly far. Over the next months, I kept at the search. Every time a realtor showed me a place and I denied it, the next place that I saw got a little more aligned with what I wanted. I got little hints that I was getting closer, too; a cute cat would be outside of the apartment I had just looked at, or the new realtor I was trying out gave me a much better feeling than the last one.
In the end, I found my apartment through a random connection I made through working at the club. The timing was perfect, the new apartment was not far from my old one so moving wouldn’t be a pain, and it would even come with a queen-sized bed and a TV. All for 500,000 KRW a month. I now live there happily with my little cat.
I agree with people when they say I got lucky, but that luck was born from insistence. There were apartments I could have accepted that ticked off 90% of my wishlist, and I could’ve moved out of my old, moldy, cockroach-infested apartment much quicker. But I held onto that belief that my pocket of improbability must exist somewhere in Seoul. I had observed this big city with thousands of little backroads and random buildings; one of them could hold exactly what I was looking for.
It’s not easy to be stubborn for what you want, especially when the absence of it feels dire. Being lonely feels like punishment for being picky. Watching my bank account dwindle because I still haven’t found the perfect job makes me wonder if I am being delusional. But there’s a saying that I like: “The bitterness of low quality remains long after the sweetness of low price is forgotten.” If I’d moved into an apartment that I didn’t fully like, I’d have to move out sooner just to find something better. If I date someone that doesn’t meet my standards, I have to go through breaking up, healing heartbreak, and dating all over again. Or worse, stay and endure.
The best dresses are cute, comfortable, and surprise us with pockets when we try them on. Sometimes, I don’t even realize a pocket could exist in the place that I find it. There’s magic everywhere, but we have to feel around for it, keep our hearts and eyes open to it, and allow it to find us. When it comes, it’s so easy to tell that this was meant for you. No one else’s hand could fit in it but yours.