Finding Peace in Gilsang-sa (길상사) in Autumn

No one can prepare you for expat life. It’s hard. It’s exciting. It builds you up — only to tear you down again. Add a raging pandemic to the equation and you’re set for an experience that you’d never forget.

My dear friend, Teresa, left Seoul a-year-and-a-half before me. We couldn’t even say our farewells and now we are in two different parts of the globe. We don’t know if we will meet again. But, right now, she’s back in Seoul, and has inspired me to walk down the path of nostalgia. T, this one is for you.

Just around this time, about 4 years ago (2021), the pandemic was waning (or so we assumed). We were preparing to pack our bags (more like a shipment of boxes) and head back home. Although, we never had a lockdown, we restricted ourselves to Seoul and our neighbourhood — unless we absolutely had to go to the other side of the city. This was our life for nearly two years. Autumn was a good enough reason to mask up and start the journey of saying our farewell to some of the most iconic places in Seoul.

Gilsang-sa was on top of my list. I had first visited the temple in 2019 with my other dear friend, Yiping. She had also doubled up as my guide. This hidden gem is tucked away from most (autumn-chasing) tourist trails. It took me 2 years to come back with Basil.

If you’re someone who loves following quaint trails and hidden pathways — Gilsang-sa won’t disappoint. It doesn’t have the larger-than-life quality like other autumn hotspots. If anything, the whole complex is quite small and might not impress at first sight. However, the little things had me transfixed. I’d call that a win.

Carnations hold an important place in Korean culture. During my Korean culture/craft days at the Seoul Global Centre, I learned to make paper carnations on one of the cultural holidays. The centre had possibly arranged a craft program for expats (and visiting tourists) on the occasion of either Parents’ Day (8th May) or Teacher’s Day (15th May). I can’t remember which one, however, I still have those paper flowers on my bedside, even today. Carnations symbolise respect, love, and gratitude and are the perfect gift to show your appreciation to either your teacher or parents in Korea.

Chrysanthemum

I don’t know what it is about nature that uplifts my soul. I feel like I’m on a high and nothing can get me down. It had been a really rough year. There were times, I didn’t know how to keep going. We were far from those who we loved. And even those who we loved in Seoul, were far from us — because of social-distancing.

We had visited the temple early in the morning. The advantage of visiting early is that you have this little nugget of paradise all to yourself. But, even on my earlier visit, I had noticed that local tourists were mindful of preserving the calm of the temple complex. Figurines of Buddha dot the (autumnal) natural landscape of the complex. It could be an interesting activity to spot how many are there.

I’ve had my fair share of battles with faith and a lack thereof. I settled for being agnostic. It helps me survive those who steer strongly on opposite sides of the spectrum of belief. Buddhism appeals to me for its simplicity. There’s always been a constant whirlwind of emotions that swirl in my mind. I hate this state of flux.

One of my goals (in life) is to find long-lasting peace. I wanted to experience at least one temple stay program in Korea. Sadly. it’s one experience that I couldn’t strike off my list before leaving Seoul. Gilsang-sa also offers temple stay programs for foreigners.

The history of this temple is quite unique. Back in the day, the temple structure and its environs used to be a fine dining restaurant (Daewongak) for the elite. The owner of the restaurant, Mrs. Kim Yeong-Han was quite moved by the preachings and austerity of monk Beopjeong. Altruistically, she donated this beautiful structure to become a temple in 1997.

Autumn or cherry blossom? I don’t think I could pick a favourite. The seasons, in Korea, always brought with it a change. More so, they brought hope. It felt like a rite of passage. You can’t rush either. I knew this would be our last autumn in Seoul. I wanted to capture every bit of flaming yellow or red of the canopy above our heads.

The ginormous temple bell was surrounded by hues of red and yellow. In a couple of weeks — they’d overturn every bit of green around them.

I have climbed highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you
I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you

But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for

– U2

We climbed up a small elevation to reach a vantage point. Seoul has this unique ability to thrust you into a sea of people, and escape from it — should you choose to return to the lap of nature. We were very well in the city and yet it seemed very far away. We could spot N-Seoul Tower on one side and Lotte Tower on the other.

I hadn’t visited this side of the temple with my friend. Each corner looked like a scene from a fairy tale. Hanok-styled rooftops dotted the landscape in the distance. My friend had mentioned that this neighbourhood was an expensive locality to reside in and had some influential people as its residents. And it wasn’t very hard to imagine judging by those gated villas.

I remember buying a stone turtle from Busan in 2015. It was the first time I had visited South Korea and I never thought that I’d come back for the long haul. I’ve seen carved turtles in many Buddhist temples, but I had forgotten about their significance before writing this post. The water made a gentle gurgling sound as it touched the pond. For a moment, it felt like everything could wait. Everything would be fine. I was fine.

The street outside was inviting. We had finished our temple tour earlier than expected and we had the whole day ahead of us. We decided to explore the desolate neighbourhood. Like most walks, we didn’t know where these roads would lead. It wasn’t very different from our lives back then.

We were the only foreigners there. But, the masks brought a sense of uniformity and disguise in the form of furry jackets. After exiting the temple, we took our masks off to click pictures against the backdrop of a beautiful wall of red leaves. A lady offered to click our pictures. She said we made a cute couple. The fleeting human interaction made me feel nice.

I picked up a fallen leaf for my autumn collection. But, I don’t even think it lasted till early winter. We kept walking on the roads that promised to lead us to another gorgeous sighting along the Seoul City Wall (next post).