Vertigo is physical and psychological. Fear of falling keeps us safe and holds us back. One distinct vertiginous memory takes me back to Jeju Island, the “Hawaii of Korea.” It was the early 1990s, my childhood pilgrimage to my ancestral country.

The Jeju of my memories was lush, green, virgin. We hiked up mountains, and at a certain point, while trekking to a waterfall, I had to tiptoe and jump from stone to stone across a river. I had never done that before, and I was exhilarated and dubious. Did people really do stuff like this or was I a real pioneer? It felt like I was breaking new ground, the champion of rock jumping. And as basic as it was, I was scared that I would be swept into the water and away. Some twisted part of me wanted it to happen.

My cousin was charged with taking us all around the country. Roughly a month of towing around two kids and my demanding mother. My current self feels grateful and horrified by the burden she had to carry.

A week ago, I landed back in Jeju-do. I have no family here (that I know of).

Instead, I was joining a community called Hacker Paradise, a traveling community of developers, designer, and entrepreneurs. They had spent the past 4 months in Porto, Portugal. For the remainder of the year, the group would be in Jeju, Chiang Mai in Thailand, and Ubud in Bali, each for a month. This isn’t a vacation. We spend most of the day working in our Korean government-sponsored co-working space, J-Space, or at cafes. We have meetup groups around various topics. There are restaurants being tried and weekend trips to the beach and hiking destinations.

The Jeju-do of this trip is less of a vacation and more of a structured working pause in my life. I’m staying in a hotel in the Honolulu of Jeju-do, not the Mauna Kea. City life here is bustling. Nights are overrun with drunk and boisterous Koreans on the streets. People seem to get there hair done here until midnight. The prevailing female clothing style seems to be baggy sweatshirts and jarring red lipstick. Hordes of girls will go visit makeup stores together late at night. How is it possible to have this many makeup stores around? It seems acceptable here to drink coffee into the wee hours of the morning as well.

My first week was spent working on a website redesign project for a startup, joining a writing meetup group, attending Korean classes, and getting to know people in this community through dinners, a beach trip, and a hike. I’ve been designated the yoga teacher and have been leading yoga sessions most days. We help each other with personal and professional goals as well through Demos/Reciprocity sessions and informal meetings. It is a very positive, motivating, and special group. An example of how people, not physical place, create a sense of home.

Yesterday, I met with one of the other people in this group, and it turned into a real collaboration opportunity. I was shocked! Pleasantly shocked but still shocked by the suddenness of it. We had been walking part of the Olle trails that go around the island on Sunday and got to talking. In a leisurely way, we talked about our professional paths. We were in the same group for work demos/reciprocity sessions, so we jumped off of that as a starting point and realized we had both been through similar journeys, except that he was 2 years ahead of me and now running several different companies and initiatives. He asked for my help with some product advice, and we agreed to meet on Monday. By Monday evening, I had a new collaborator and client – multiple opportunities.

So far, this week has been fruitful for feeling like I’m part of something greater, making progress on some projects, and expanding my horizons. My Korean has improved dramatically. I’ve been playing the guitar for at least an hour a day. I joined a group of Korean developers trying to improve their English. I shared some personal stories and writing with others in the program. Afterwards, I felt a bit sick…but in a good way. I also shared some work product with my client and with others in my program. I felt semi-sick doing that as well. (What if they think it sucks? Why are people paying me to do this? Shut up.)

I am trying to do things without fear of failure or judgment.

This is how you combat vertigo. That is the thing about visiting places. Sometimes, they become significant for your future self in ways you would never realize. As I’ve been wandering the island, I have felt myself jumping into and out of my child self. Sometimes I see things through her eyes, and I feel the joys of experiencing something new for the first time. The feeling of not knowing whether you’re doing something unique or whether it’s a well-worn path taken by many. Except I guess, I sort of know now that experience is common. It’s helpful to find those who have been on your path or are on it now though.