When the pressure is very high, what way do you choose to dismiss yourself?
Looking for someone to talk to, nightclub bungee jumping, crazy sports? For South Koreans, these ways are weak, they will spend 40 minutes, $6 to the cinema to watch the plane through the clouds, spend 31 minutes to watch the campfire burning, and spend 90 minutes to compete who can be more in a daze.
Since 2014, Seoul has held an annual air-off contest. The organizing committee selected 50-80 from thousands of registered netizens, and sat together for 90 minutes on the day of the competition.
You can't use your phone to pass the time during the game, test your heart rate every 15 minutes, and the person with the least heart rate fluctuation is the champion...
Why is that?
Tucked away on a small street near the city park called Seoul Forest, there is a teahouse with only 10 seats inside. Here, you can't talk. Your phone must be muted and you can't wear shoes yet.
Rules have a purpose. Relax and empty yourself.
01
Emptying: Non-mainstream healing
As South Koreans enter a phase of coexistence with the coronavirus, some are moving to public places where they can be alone to relax their social lives.
This is nothing new in South Korea, where people are desperately seeking refuge in a society of pandemics, high stress and fast-paced society to escape the pressures of living as normal adults, with property prices soaring and work schedules becoming increasingly strained.
In this year's "Letting Go" contest, participants sit quietly in the "healing forest" in the south of Jeju Island to lower their heart rate as much as possible. Since its inception in 2014, the competition has spread internationally, covering Hong Kong and the Netherlands.
The concept of "emptying" is infiltrating a handful of public spaces in South Korea. In November, theaters across South Korea premiered a 40-minute movie that simulated airplanes moving through clouds. The movie is called "Flying" and tickets are less than $6. The film's tagline reads: "Take a short break in the fluffy clouds." ”
It's the sequel to this spring's movie Fires, which features 31 minutes of footage of a burning campfire.
Such spaces and experiences are not a mainstream activity. But the researchers say the films take advantage of the growing loneliness in our lives in the second year after the pandemic.
Yoon Tak-hwan, co-author of the annual book "Trend Monitoring," said he thinks easing will become a trend. "When you feel the feelings of being trapped and lonely, it's hard to deal with," he says. They want to be alone outside of their homes. Until the outbreak improves significantly, we expect this trend to continue. ”
Emptiness is called "hair confusion" in Chinese, which is a slang use of the word "doubt" to describe a state of complete unconsciousness, which is also a state of blankness. With the advent of autumn, it is now popular to say "forest ignorance" and "leaf ignorance", which means to empty when looking at the forest or trees. There is "fire ignorance", that is, emptying when looking at the fire. There is also "water ignorance", meditating near the water.
02
Green Lab: Daily self-care
Cafes such as the Green Lab near Seoul's Forest have become the focus of local media coverage, attracting a steady stream of visitors throughout the COVID-19 period by providing healing and green spaces. Customers can drink tea while reading, writing poetry, meditating or simply gazing at the trees.
Before the pandemic, the Green Lab was just a "ritualistic" place of recreation, an emerging activity that encourages daily self-care. Not so long ago, customers weren't used to going to coffee shops just to be alone. But now, the three times a day offered by the Green Lab are quickly sold out, and there is basically no way to experience them without an appointment.
Bae said: "It is difficult to find a place in Korean society where you can do nothing at all. People seem to be interested in this, but I think it will take more time for it to become widely popular. As people's daily lives gradually change during the pandemic, they are becoming more and more familiar with the concept. ”
One weekday afternoon, 38-year-old Mr. Cheng took a group of colleagues to the store. Chung Jae-hwan, the head of a skincare brand, has been looking for calming ways in the competitive business world, trying Pilates and yoga, but he still wants to find a place where he doesn't need to do anything, and eventually he comes to the green lab.
"I want to be able to press the stop button and spend some time for myself, but I can't stop and want to do something," he says. Here, the rule is to do nothing. It freed up space in my brain. I'm here reading a book, smelling perfume, looking at flowers, writing poetry. I started to get new ideas one by one and felt refreshed. ”
"I was so tired that I didn't even have time to rest. Coming home from work, doing housework, and then having almost only 30 minutes to an hour of free time, before going to sleep. During that time I usually played with my phone. So when I'm here, I can take a good rest," said Ann, 32.
03
Cafe: Self-healing space
Other parts of South Korea have similar space. There is a café in Jeju called Goyose, and the upstairs area is reserved for people to be alone. The café offers stationery and you can write to yourself while drinking coffee and dessert. A café in the southern coastal city of Busan offers a "fire-chilling" area where people can stare at the screen-displayed videos of the campfires in a daze.
On Ganghwa Island, off south Korea's west coast, a café called Mung Hit also has an inactive recreation area. One of the café's areas has single chairs facing the mirror for anyone who wants to sit back and gaze. There are corners for meditation, reading, sitting by the pond or garden or enjoying mountain views, but pets or children are not allowed.
The café opened in April 2019 with the goal of providing a "self-healing space" that has attracted many visitors since the outbreak of the pandemic.
The shopkeeper said: "Confusion is a concept that empties your heart and your brain so that you can fill it with new ideas and ideas." We opened because we wanted to create a space for people to be confused. People can heal themselves here. We want to provide a space for everyone who is exhausted by the needs of modern life to forget everything.
Kim Tae-jun, 32, found the café online and went there to get away from the city. She found a corner to be alone, to have as little contact with others as possible, to empty her mind.
"I sat there, secluded and relaxed. When I enjoyed the scenery and drank coffee, I couldn't help but empty my mind. I felt comforted and felt my heart open. The busy thoughts in my head disappeared and I became more positive and optimistic. ”