Karma and Love
There’s a quiet belief that drifts through life here in Korea, often unspoken but deeply felt—that nothing between people is ever entirely accidental. You see it in small moments. A glance that lingers half a second too long on a subway platform. A conversation that begins without effort in a café on a rainy afternoon. A voice on the other end of a message that somehow feels familiar, even if you’ve never met. There is a word— Inyeon —that tries to hold all of this. It suggests that every meeting is the result of countless unseen threads, stretching backward through time. Not just years, but lifetimes, if you believe that sort of thing. And whether you do or not, there’s something about the idea that feels true. Karma is often misunderstood as something transactional—good deeds rewarded, bad ones punished. But in its quieter form, it feels less like a ledger and more like a current. It moves beneath us. It carries choices, words, silences. It remembers what we forget. And sometime...
