Humans are equipped with an immune system—
a mechanism that distinguishes self from others
and eliminates external invaders.
It is a vital, self-protective wisdom
for surviving in this environment we call Earth.

And yet, the womb, by nature, does not reject the other.
It is precisely because of the womb’s opennessthat life has continued, and we now find ourselves here, alive on this planet.

What shook me about surrogate pregnancy was not the ethical dilemma—
“Is this really allowed?”
It was the biological mystery—“I can’t believe this is possible!”

Even when the nation, race, religion, or DNA is different—
in other words, even if the embryo is a complete stranger—
the womb quietly accepts and nurtures it.
This awe toward the womb’s unbounded receptivity humbled me.

From a single fertilized cell just 0.01mm in size,
a human being emerges—an intricate integration of 37 trillion cells.

What is the first sense we acquire in that process?

Sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell—
Among these five senses, the very first to awaken is the sense of touch—
the sensation of skin.

To touch is to be touched.
Of all the senses, it is the only one that requires another—
a primordial, reciprocal experience.

It was the womb that first received us,
that first touched us—gently, warmly, and with enveloping comfort.

We entrusted ourselves entirely to that absolute safety.
The serene, satisfied expression of a baby tells that story better than words.

That sensation—of “touching and being touched” in the womb—
remains, deeply and indelibly, within us throughout life.

If the feeling of “being healed” means returning to one’s truest,
unguarded self, then perhaps it is a reconnection to the memory of the womb.

That is why, in our daily lives, we should try to live in a womb-like way.

When we encounter people who think or feel differently,
instead of lamenting, rejecting, or denying,
instead of persuading or overpowering them—
we can first try simply accepting them as they are.

Just as contact with a foreign culture can illuminate the virtues of our own homeland and reveal the shape of our identity,

Just like how experiencing a different culture
makes us appreciate the comfort of our own,
recognizing difference
so too can the awareness born of our differences deepen mutual understanding, transforming both ourselves and others.

Like the father’s and mother’s distinct chromosomes that do not blend,
but instead align side by side to form new life—
there is a space where “difference” can resonate beautifully, in harmony.

To live wombfully is to live a story of one’s own—
a story that begins with acceptance,
that honors the slow unfolding of growth,
and that trusts the life that has grown enough to be gently let go.

The womb does not cling forever.

When life is ready to set off on its own,
it opens the birth canal
and delivers that new life with perfect timing.

That, perhaps, is what true love looks like.

When the time comes for life to depart on its own,
it releases that life into the world with exquisite timing,
without hesitation or regret.
Perhaps that is what true love looks like.

In a confused and diverse world filled with unanswered questions,
this is the kind of warm, supple compass we need
to keep walking without losing sight of ourselves.

That is what it means to live wombfully.