A room to breathe

Because I live in Jeju, which draws millions of tourists year-round, I often find myself flipping through guestbooks at coffee shops, bars, and even theaters. Many of the entries reveal why people choose to travel to Jeju alone. They’re surprisingly candid about their struggles with partners, parents, and colleagues.

A few weeks ago, I read that one of them wrote, “I was so busy and felt so overwhelmed that I couldn’t do anything. I had to escape Seoul for Jeju because I desperately needed a room to breathe.” I became fascinated by this sense of urgency—the need to retreat to a quiet space to forget everything else.

Like the travelers, I also longed for a place to pause and reflect on my life. I couldn’t afford to pack my bags and leave, so I deployed my own version of a room to breathe and opened its door to others.

I have zero interest in capturing your attention and monetizing it. The Internet, now more than ever, deserves spaces where people can be free from the constant bombardment of information. Come by once in a while and fill your lungs with air. Take your time. We all know it’s okay to breathe.