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2. Built on Broken Attempt


I was freefalling like a bird with broken wings, doomed to flutter helplessly in the gutter. Looking back on my life, I realized that no matter how hard I worked, the results never came.  At every crucial moment, things fell apart dramatically. Just one step from the goal, I tripped and fell, which made me feel like a flower that withers without blooming, the sun that sets before it rises. 

After failing in my IT challenge followed , depression began to surface as I isolated myself from the society. Given the decline in the mental health inevitably affects the physical health, it would be a matter of time that I would become a complete recluse . I had to get out into the world before it was too late. I had to do something—anything. 

Out of desperation,I landed a job in logistics at a major department store warehouse through a labor hire agency. 


2. The first impression at the warehouse

The plastic tubs filled with orders waiting to be packed were lined up on the conveyor belt. Forklifts loaded with plastic-wrapped boxes beeped as they roamed the warehouse. In front of the office,  a group in high vis vests stood with expressionless face—some looking half-zoned out as if cornered into survival mode. Their eyes were gleaming like predators stripped to instinct. Just a glance told me they were from all over—Africa, the Middle East, India, Southeast Asia, and China. The overwhelming majority was the Indian. 

Then , a tiny girl small enough to fit in a pocket appeared in my sight, wedged between the crowd.  Her safety shoes were tattered and falling apart. 'What kind of work can such a little girl do here with hands barely bigger than sprouts? Isn’t this child labor?' As I got closer, a sharp, fermented onion smell stabbed my nose. I instinctively held my breath.  

3. I've hit the rock bottom.

My job was picking and packing ; the last stop for those with nowhere else to go—a dead-end job. Orders came in online, and I roamed the warehouse, collecting, packing, and loading them into containers. Every day, I was assigned a new ID number. It felt like the livestock getting branded—like pigs and cows seared with red-hot irons. I couldn’t shake the bitter feeling of becoming a nameless cog in the HR machine. There may be no such thing as a “lowly” job, but working in logistics doing repetitive labor at the bottom rung crushed my self-esteem.

'Why have such things happened to me ?'

Fate whispers to my ears. 

'Struggle for all you want—it’s no use. Dreams? Even if you achieved them, you wouldn’t be able to handle them as you are too small to accommodate them. Are you trying to pour an ocean into a rice bowl?  If you succeed, it will only turn into the poison, inflating your ego, making you arrogant and reckless, building up karma. So, forget those worldly dreams that would vanish like dew. Instead, I give you a life of hardship—bitter failure, crushing despair, unbearable pain—all carefully wrapped with the grace of awakening and the blessing of growth. Remember you don’t have much time left. Cherish every fleeting second. Live each moment.'

'I must have committed grave sins in the previous life.'

This blog was originally written in Korean by Young Hwa Son and first published on Brunch, a Korean writing platform. The link is provided below.  https://brunch.co.kr/brunchbook/heavenwarehouse





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