About me, Danmooji.

A story behind the writer’s name

*Disclaimer: please check out the first story before reading it, if you haven’t.*

Hi there.

I don’t know who is possibly out there across the screen to read my stories. I will admit, though, that I secretly hope there is someone out there reading them. But, it is okay if there is no one. Regardless of the existence of readers, I will continue to write a story, every week. It has become one of my THE most liberating and soothing daily routines to bring out stories from my personal journal into the world.

I remember last week, I promised to write about my pseudonym, Danmooji. So, here I am. I am going to tell a story about and the meaning of my name, Danmooji. Actually, the name originates from a Korean word. And you might be surprised by what you will see in a second.

If you ask any Korean ‘do you know what Danmooji is?’ they will nod their head and refer to this object:

Danmooji

Basically, Danmooji (or also Danmuji) is a pickled radish commonly used to make Kimbap. It is also the single most common assorted sidedish for Jajangmyon (a beloved Korean-Chinese dish), which is a type of dish that has a magical power to cross the border of social class — meaning everyone in South Korea knows and has tasted it. Hence, I can safely assume that almost everyone who has lived in South Korea knows what Danmooji is.

By now, you might be wondering ‘how can it be possibly associate with a writer’s name?’ To be sure, I am not a frantic fan of Danmooji as a sidedish. Rather, the name occurred to me as a happy accident.

I began searching for a writer’s name as my personal journals accumulated and desire to pour it out in the world grew. However, I did not want to disclose my identity. I wanted to be free from all my inner criticism and unrealistic concerns when I write and share. Hence, I asked my family and friends around for a suggestion of a writer’s name. Some suggested names sounding quite profound and deep, such as ‘Jin(Truth)’ or ‘Little thinker’. Not fully happy with any of the suggestions, I asked my sister — who named her hamster Oi (cucumber in Korean) which I found not only cute but also witty — for her opinion. After hearing all the candidates I had, my sister jokingly said “What about Danmooji?”

At first, I passed it off as a nice joke. Then, somehow, it stuck in my head and I started liking the sound and lightness of it. So I decided to build upon it, instead of discarding it as a whole. First, I broke down the supposedly one-word Danmooji into three syllables, Dan, Moo, and Ji. Then, I assigned each syllable a Chinese character that has the same pronunciation. And that went like this.

Dan — 単
: simplicity, single, onefold.

Moo — 無
: nothing, empty, non-existence

Ji — 知
: knowledge, to know, learning

Finally, I was content. Each syllable signifies the values that I aspire to cultivate: simplicity, detachment, and knowledge. They also represent my very intention of writing as well: I want to write a simple story based on the knowledge I discovered in a seemingly mundane daily life where I thought there is nothing to be discovered. Furthermore, they leave enough room for various other possible interpretations. For instance, I can combine Moo and Ji, and make a word Mooji (Ignorance in Korean), which will remind me of how little knowledge I have. Or I can combine Dan(simple) and Moo(empty) and make an adjective for Ji (knowledge).

So here I am. Danmooji.
For a long time, I have jotted down those ‘Danmooji’s (Dan&Moo-like learning or knowledge) and kept them in my journal. This year, I decided to take them out to enjoy refining Danmoojis and make myself vulnerable by sharing with others. I realized I had been complacent with what I learn daily by keeping it to myself in private journals. I want to know how you see, feel, and interpret them. And, if possible, I want you to remind me of the fact that my knowledge is a partial truth filtered through my perspective and background.

Nice to e-meet you. I’ll come back next week.