From Sanctuary to Studio: How a Bookstore Became My Creative Space
Translated from Korean, summarized and contextualized by DistantNews.
At a glance
- Author and self-reliant youth Mo Yu-jin found her 'creative studio' for life in a bookstore, drawing inspiration from elderly individuals who embrace new mornings despite significant losses.
- Reflecting on John Leland's "If I Had Only One More Morning," Mo realized her fear of turning twenty stemmed from a lack of preparation for adulthood, contrasting with the elders' acceptance of the present.
- Mo discovered that her bookstore, once a refuge, now serves as a space for self-growth, where she writes her life's narrative, understanding that true living happens in the present, not solely in future preparations.
For author Mo Yu-jin, a bookstore is more than just a place to read; it's a sanctuary and a 'creative studio' for life. Her journey, detailed in her writing, explores how she navigated from the depths of hardship to finding meaning, inspired by the resilience of individuals aged 85 and older.
These elders, featured in John Leland's "If I Had Only One More Morning," have faced profound losses โ mobility, sight, loved ones โ yet they greet each new day with acceptance. One 91-year-old is quoted as saying, "I'm not afraid of my age. I'm even a little proud of it." Their stories, which Mo encountered while reading in a bookstore, paradoxically transported her back to her own fearful teenage years.
I'm not afraid of my age. I'm even a little proud of it.
Mo confesses her intense dread of turning twenty. While peers eagerly anticipated adulthood and self-determination, Mo viewed twenty as a stark boundary, beyond which she would no longer be protected as a minor or excused for her shortcomings. Growing up without parental support, she was acutely aware of the knowledge and skills she lacked compared to others.
She often skipped school, finding more valuable lessons in bookstores than in classrooms that failed to teach practical life skills like managing finances or coping with personal crises. Now thirty, Mo finds herself back in a bookstore, still seeking words to live by, especially when the weight of the future feels overwhelming. She recalls the words of Fred, who is ninety-one: "The future might not come." Fred, like many of the elders, learned that chasing happiness led to mistakes, often stemming from a failure to appreciate what they already possessed.
The future might not come.
Looking around, Mo recognized the familiar comfort of the bookstore โ the rustling pages, the scent of paper. This space, which nurtured her in her youth, now serves as her creative studio. She transitioned from being a reader to a writer, chronicling her own life. The adult world she once feared arrived not as a perfect entity, but with a gentle presence. She realized she had been living like someone so focused on the destination that they never saw the scenery passing by.
Psychologist Laura L. Carstensen's 'socioemotional selectivity theory' explains this: older adults prioritize immediate joy, while younger people focus on acquiring new knowledge and experiences for the future. Mo understood that constantly preparing for 'what's next' โ career, money, relationships, health โ can make nearly every aspect of life feel incomplete. This relentless pursuit of the future can turn the present into a mere waiting room, rather than a stage for living. She acknowledges her past error: believing life would truly 'begin' only after achieving certain milestones, like getting a job or buying a house, causing countless present moments to slip away unnoticed.
You have to live this moment properly for the next moment to get better.
Originally published by Hankyoreh in Korean. Translated, summarized, and contextualized by our editorial team with added local perspective. Read our editorial standards.