１周年

It is like I closed my eyes for a moment and suddenly a year has passed.  It is hard to believe.  And like those nights where you feel you just closed your eyes for a second and all of a sudden the alarm is blaring, I feel a great sense of anxiety and loss.  Not that I did not fill the days and weeks with as many experiences as possible, but that there is still so much I want to do.  When emotions like this well up in my throat, it is best to take a step back and reflect on all the amazing things I have seen, experienced, and learned this past year.  They haven’t all been good, but they have all helped reshape me, physically and mentally, on this journey of self discovery.

If only it were a year made up completely of weekends (and if I had an infinite supply of money).  But I have managed to see many of the quintessential Japanese sights, as well as man more of the type you only see by living in a place – the striking beauty of the mundane and the special sights only locals know about.  Without a time turner and a vault full of gold at Gringotts it would have been hard to do more.  The things I have seen have inspired me to rethink my understanding of beauty, art, and architecture.  They have refilled my well of inspiration for characters, settings, and scenes.  They have taught me patience and the benefit of taking time to appreciate details.

But they have also challenged me.  And shown me my weakness.  I have felt defeated at many museums by my illiteracy in Japanese.  At theater, dance, and school performances, too.  My inability to read and speak Japanese has been a constant hurdle.  But there is also my physical weakness.  I have lost close to forty pounds since moving here.  Friends from a year ago hardly recognize me now.  This is a huge accomplishment, but it has come from hard work.  I have lost it all through walking – miles and miles a day.  But all that walking on a still unhealed injury has created new problems with my posture and feet.  It doesn’t help that Japanese shoes are not designed for western feet with arches.  And there is the unhealed injury itself.  Almost five years ago I ruptured my Achilles tendon in my left leg.  The injury was difficult to repair and my health care shoddy.  The following depression did not improve matters.  So when I came to Japan it was as a broken person.  As the weight melted away and I got used to walking a lot, some of the lost muscle and ability returned.  However, I am still unable to support my weight on the toes of my left foot.  I am missing half the muscles in my calf on that leg.  At this point I am unsure if I will ever get them back.  My recent attempt to climb Fujisan put this in perspective.  While the switchbacks from the fifth to seventh station were annoying and left me winded, I was still able to make the climb.  However, at the seventh station I was faced with a wall of ancient lava.  The only way up was a scramble that cut into hands and shoes.  Before my accident, this would have been no problem.  But in my current state, I had to accept it would be impossible.  I needed a place to put my whole left foot in order to use that leg.  Going up I could use my arms to help, but going down I had to rely on my footing.  And I couldn’t.  I was defeated.  This failure detracted somewhat from the beauty and majesty of the mountain, but it also reminded me that I am human.  Not a reminder one is excited to have as they approach a birthday, but one I needed all the same.  We will never be able to overcome every challenge, but we can meet it head on, do our best, and learn from failure.  I learned I need to keep trying, visit a doctor when I get home and figure out exactly what damage remains, and focus on building up the lost muscle.  Then I can return and conquer Fuji.

But all the setbacks, minor defeats, and slight negatives cannot overshadow the amazing things I have seen here in Japan.  Just as a few bad experiences cannot dampen my desire to do all the things.  I will admit that some days the stares and whispers can be overwhelming.  Being different in such a homogonous society can be isolating and I have felt loneliness, frustration, and on one occasion anger.  There is also a degree of sexism here that has not always sat well with me.  But there is also a kindness I have never experienced.  A friendliness.  A desire to share a special cultural occasion or ceremony that is rare in the world.  I have been briefly instructed in the tea ceremony and kendo.  Knowing what I do about the Japanese tradition of learning these culturally important things – mainly that it takes years and student must work up form the very bottom, not even touching the instruments for years – I understand what an honor this is.  I have been dressed in kimono and hapi with no thought of cultural appropriation.  I have sung, danced, and beat the drum in religious ceremonies.  I have been welcomed into acting troupes, circles of friends, communities, and families.  I have been able to experience so many wonderful things in this country and most of them with some degree of English.  It has really shown me what an amazing and rich culture Japan has, but also how kind its people are.  The understanding, tolerance, and friendliness of the Japanese people is something I doubt I could find in any other group.  There are things I don’t understand, appreciate, or sometimes like, but even then I am learning to accept the differences brought about by culture and understand what the core of humanity really is.

And this is perhaps the hardest and best lesson Japan has taught me.  That I will never truly understand the nuances of another culture, but I can emphasize with them using my own background.  I can also appreciate these differences since they allow for color and pattern variations in the tapestry of the human species.  And I have learned more personal lessons, too.  Like patience, silence, and how to be alone.  I have learned a lot about myself – what makes me happy and inspires me, what my shortcomings and downfalls are.  I have learned to be self reliant, but I am still working on self motivated.  I have learned to accept and live somewhat in harmony with the weather – taking off or adding clothes rather than reaching for the aircon remote.  I have learned that I don’t need much (as there is no room for it in my tiny apartment).  This limited space has also taught me how to use the area I have more efficiently, especially the kitchen.  I have learned about my thought process and the bits of history, culture, and personality that go into who I am and the choices I make.  I have learned how to evaluate relationships and balance the needs of others with my own needs.  I have learned a lot in this past year. 

I am not the same person I was a year ago.  It would be foolish to say all of the changes have been good (my cooking and house cleaning have devolved to college levels), but I believe I have come a long way to achieving the goals I set for myself when I embarked on this journey last August.  I have lived every moment, exposed myself to as much as I possibly could, and used each experience as a tool for greater understanding of myself and humanity.  I have taken the good and the bad (although there has definitely been way more on the good side of the scales) and found meaning in both.  I have met with adversity and acceptance and grown through each.  The time passed in a flash, and there is still so much that I want to do, but I think I can be satisfied with the progress I have made so far.  But don’t expect me to rest on my laurels.  After all, my adventures are far from over.