I'm just sad. I don't have the motivation to do a whole lot. I want to come home. I think I lack a cohesive set of goals right now. I have many esoteric things that I want to do / think I should be doing / would be good to do, but no ranking of priorities. Let me make one. This is a working priority list.
P.S. I'm listening to Phil Wickham's "I will wait for you there" on repeat. I took my guitar out, fixed the broken A string and played it for the first time since I don't know, the middle of July? It was so, so good to play. I played a few of my songs and then just jammed and wrote to some chords for awhile. I put the guitar down, saying I really needed that.
1. God.
2. Sleep. Weeknights, 10:00pm, no ands ifs or buts.
3. Move.
4. Exercise.
5. Take care of my job stuff - School, NAJET and AJET.
6. Study for Japanese Test.
7. Put things back where you found them.
8. Being with people.
9. Reading.
10. Guitar, hiking, exploring, writing, taking pictures, laughing at myself, taking vacations, dancing in the rain, going to Joy Fellowship, calling my family and friends back home, grocery shopping, watching movies, playing baseball with the kids in my neighborhood, and hopefully most of these happen weekly.
Drink it in, Luther. Breathe deeply and don't worry about your heart right now. Attitude. You create your existence, and things are as they are named. Forget that Shakespeare, a rose smells how I say it does.
Whew.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
My Japan
Drinking low quality, blend coffee from a juice box purchased at the vending machine in my school’s hallway for a hundred yen suddenly fills me with the essence of Japan. All my feelings, all my memories, all my moods and swings, the sum of all my pictoviews gather together in full force just behind my forehead. It’s like brut cologne to junior high. One whiff of that aging bottle sitting in the top drawer of my dresser always brought me right back to 7th grade gym class. They say smell is the sense most closely linked with memory, and if that’s the case I’m headed for early senility. However, I have my words and I have the crushing weight of my feelings, so I’ll have to rely on this subjective history to get me through my nursing home years.
Juice Box Coffee. This isn’t even Can Coffee quality.
Through the thick of a year’s worth of memories, a single moment emerges. I’m standing on the sea wall and a breeze tugs at my back. The sound of a semi hangs there too; there’s the ever sleeping Easter Island mountain, and a sky almost matching the sea. This is how I know my Japan: where the hills kiss the water, where people sit at low tables, drinking to the ages just as they have done for a thousand years, where old women ride scooters and bicycles and buy their vegetables at convenience stores, where children bow to a stranger, their bodies bending even as their eyes stare in wonder; a place where concrete and iron push their way through the eonic surface, rising to the sky, where these very buildings are reclaimed by the land they once covered, now entangled in green. Time is all of history here and now is made up of all of then.
I discovered today I've been in love with a thought.
.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Breathing detail into the body
Sorry. I ain't got any of that today. You may have to give me a skype call to motivate some detailed Japan story. I'm just not feeling up to snuff to run it all through my fingers.
Today I miss home again. Watching the movie "Lars and the Real Girl" did it I think. I didn't want to watch a movie. But I didn't want to do anything else either. The movie was set in a place up north where people slide their cars on the ice, cook hotdish, and come over and sit in a tragedy - where new bath towels are an item of conversation and where spring starts with Easter, a place where people are terrible dancers and the fake flowers on the alter each Sunday morning are brought by a volunteer over to the local hospital. This is the north. This is my home. I really miss that familiarity. I'll always be comfortable there because I'll always know what to do and I'll always know what to expect.
My surplus money's gone. I spent it all. I'm going to try and live off of $300 in the next 3 weeks. Which is going to be tough given the schedule of parties and gatherings coming up on the list.
Hmm.
.
Today I miss home again. Watching the movie "Lars and the Real Girl" did it I think. I didn't want to watch a movie. But I didn't want to do anything else either. The movie was set in a place up north where people slide their cars on the ice, cook hotdish, and come over and sit in a tragedy - where new bath towels are an item of conversation and where spring starts with Easter, a place where people are terrible dancers and the fake flowers on the alter each Sunday morning are brought by a volunteer over to the local hospital. This is the north. This is my home. I really miss that familiarity. I'll always be comfortable there because I'll always know what to do and I'll always know what to expect.
My surplus money's gone. I spent it all. I'm going to try and live off of $300 in the next 3 weeks. Which is going to be tough given the schedule of parties and gatherings coming up on the list.
Hmm.
.
A year. Have I said that already? Cuz if I haven't, I've sure been thinking it for the past 35 days. That's 55 weeks, after you take out the 2 I spent in the States over Christmas and New Year's. Fifty-five 7 day weeks. Insane. A year.
What have I done in the past year? Don't I still haunt these same places? I have come full circle with the earth, my position to the sun now aligning with old activities and spaces. A year.
Like I felt in college, life back home must be on hold. People can do too much in one year, they can't be different, otherwise, what am I going to know when I get back? My sister Hannah is turning 22 in less than 3 weeks - she's going to graduate college before I get back and I left her in the middle of it. The weight of that age is staggering and it just took the wind out of me. Twenty-two is an adult's age.
I guess if we want to talk numbers, I'm 33% through my life expectancy. I only get double of what I've seen, and maybe a lot less depending on how I go.
Or maybe more. I could live to see 3 centuries. I'd have to be 117 to do it. Wasn't there this guy who just died who claimed to be in his 130s?
I'm decided to drop difference jibing. It ain't funny no more. Nobody appreciates it. Nobody who's traveled anyway. Difference jibing is only funny to those who have never left their insulating nest of ethnocentrism, most often found married to those who never leave their hometowns. I'm not saying that all people who stay home are like this, just that it's easy to stay comfortable and laugh at what's different when home and the people who are just like you are all you ever know. I've realized that now after a year of response from pointing out differences. It don't make a bit of difference if you call it soda or pop, read or yomu, ketchup or kechyapu - I just don't care anymore. We're all talking about the same thing anyway.
And Canada doesn't suck.
.
What have I done in the past year? Don't I still haunt these same places? I have come full circle with the earth, my position to the sun now aligning with old activities and spaces. A year.
Like I felt in college, life back home must be on hold. People can do too much in one year, they can't be different, otherwise, what am I going to know when I get back? My sister Hannah is turning 22 in less than 3 weeks - she's going to graduate college before I get back and I left her in the middle of it. The weight of that age is staggering and it just took the wind out of me. Twenty-two is an adult's age.
I guess if we want to talk numbers, I'm 33% through my life expectancy. I only get double of what I've seen, and maybe a lot less depending on how I go.
Or maybe more. I could live to see 3 centuries. I'd have to be 117 to do it. Wasn't there this guy who just died who claimed to be in his 130s?
I'm decided to drop difference jibing. It ain't funny no more. Nobody appreciates it. Nobody who's traveled anyway. Difference jibing is only funny to those who have never left their insulating nest of ethnocentrism, most often found married to those who never leave their hometowns. I'm not saying that all people who stay home are like this, just that it's easy to stay comfortable and laugh at what's different when home and the people who are just like you are all you ever know. I've realized that now after a year of response from pointing out differences. It don't make a bit of difference if you call it soda or pop, read or yomu, ketchup or kechyapu - I just don't care anymore. We're all talking about the same thing anyway.
And Canada doesn't suck.
.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
An Update
Aren't all blog entries updates? (Shaking of head and jowls with a pfffppfew)
Wow. I don't know what to write. I don't know why I came on here. I guess I felt I needed to write something about being in Japan. My camera was stolen. Stolen at a nice onsen, Hana no Yu in Fujinomiya. I have to call the place back to see if it turned up. I was pretty pissed for about an hour and a half. I lost all the pictures I've taken over the past 3 weeks. Which actually wasn't a lot of pictures, since I haven't been taking much, but it was the ones I took with Will and Mike when they were here for the first day of their 68 hours. And I couldn't take any after that. Mike will have to tag me on facebook for you to see pictures with them. It was really awesome to see them. I can't believe it's been almost 8 months since I saw Will - that it's been 8 months since Steve's wedding. That is crazy. I was in Japan not even 5 months before I came home for a visit last time, and now I've been out of the country 8 months in a row. Crazy crazy crazy. What am I doing here?
It's really warm outside. Tomorrow it will be September. I'm sitting inside my apartment in shorts and a t-shirt with all my windows open and 2 fans on. I'm a bit shiny as well.
I'm seeing an increase in my Japanese abilities. It must come in waves. In levels. I went a long time without seeing any improvement. (Maybe it had something to do with not studying or speaking Japanese for 2 months.) I'm not scared of speaking Japanese anymore. Even if I fail to communicate, I'm not afraid to try. My confidence was greatly boosted with Will and Mike here because I was able to get them around - order food, ask for directions, call a taxi company and get a ride...have some short conversations with people asking about us, etc. I called and talked with the bus company that was picking people up for the Mt. Fuji Climb to find out exactly where the bus would be waiting. Furuyasan's advice from the beginning of our lessons together was to talk to people in Japanese - at the grocery store, at the conbini, waiting for a train. I never felt confident doing that before, but now I feel comfortable saying anything just for the practice or just because I'm a human being and they're a human being and I've got something to say or ask. I'm able to hear Japanese a lot better now, and I'm actually starting to remember vocabulary that I pick up in various places. The Japanese I hear is starting to register more quickly in my brain. Before I would have to listen to something spoken very slowly, then take that sound and run it through my data bank of recorded vocabulary found in the deep reaches of my brain, translate it into English, and then I would understand. Now I can hear something and either it makes the switch into English very quickly, or maybe I'm even understanding in Japanese. I'm excited about studying again (even with a sopping wet lesson book - story to come later, maybe if I have the time to type it all out).
I'm really trying to put on a good attitude. I had to argue with myself in the shower this morning. I was wanting to feel sorry for myself because I missed out on the AJET Fuji Climb since I was too sore from climbing it on Wednesday night. I wanted to feel down, and then I said, "no, I will be happy" and then I said "but I don't have anything to be happy about, so it would be wrong to be cheerful today" and then I said "life is a good enough reason to be happy" and then I said, "I can't argue with that." So I stopped arguing with myself and I won.
I bought new glasses. They are cool, clear, plastic, Japanesey ones. I had gone last weekend to look and couldn't decide between the cool plastic ones and a pair of frameless glasses that were much lighter and more comfortable and more professional looking. I wanted to pick the frameless ones, but my desire to look cool won out. I really don't like glasses in general because of that professional look they give me. I've been going the past year without any glasses at all, so it's not like I'll be wearing them much anyway. Plus I'm getting lasik surgery when I get back from Japan so I won't need glasses after that at all.
Oh yeah, I took an eye exam and bought glasses all in Japanese this past week too. If you think it's a harrowing time at the eye doctor's in English, think about trying to do those tests all in Japanese. Brian Regan's sketch on glasses comes to mind...
Ok. I got lost on youtube while I was searching for that Brian Regan link. whoops. Time got away. Tomorrow is my first day of school for the new term. I'm not ready for school to start. I have to start making lesson plans again. It's late (12:25am as I'm typing this now - hey it's September!) but I'm not tired because I'm excited with life and life's possibilities. I need to start each morning with time - time to talk to myself (not the creepy schizophrenic kind, just the morning pep talk time) and time to talk with God, to relax and start the day. And I need to get sleep before that. Ok, I'll start that tomorrow night. But seriously, there are so many things to be happy about and if I just take the time to see things that way.
I have many stories to tell you. So many stories about the everyday extraordinary that I find here in Japan, stories about the beach and the mountains and friends and people and the things they tell me and the things I see. So many of these stories will fall down on me as I'm sitting in the States years from now. Maybe it will be a plate of noodles or a misunderstood word or a trip to the mountains, but something will set it off and I will suddenly be rushed back to these moments of life here on this island, so many miles from home.
Now I'm going for a walk along the ocean. I have too much energy to take to bed with me, I don't think I could keep my head on the pillow.
For now, goodnight.
.
Wow. I don't know what to write. I don't know why I came on here. I guess I felt I needed to write something about being in Japan. My camera was stolen. Stolen at a nice onsen, Hana no Yu in Fujinomiya. I have to call the place back to see if it turned up. I was pretty pissed for about an hour and a half. I lost all the pictures I've taken over the past 3 weeks. Which actually wasn't a lot of pictures, since I haven't been taking much, but it was the ones I took with Will and Mike when they were here for the first day of their 68 hours. And I couldn't take any after that. Mike will have to tag me on facebook for you to see pictures with them. It was really awesome to see them. I can't believe it's been almost 8 months since I saw Will - that it's been 8 months since Steve's wedding. That is crazy. I was in Japan not even 5 months before I came home for a visit last time, and now I've been out of the country 8 months in a row. Crazy crazy crazy. What am I doing here?
It's really warm outside. Tomorrow it will be September. I'm sitting inside my apartment in shorts and a t-shirt with all my windows open and 2 fans on. I'm a bit shiny as well.
I'm seeing an increase in my Japanese abilities. It must come in waves. In levels. I went a long time without seeing any improvement. (Maybe it had something to do with not studying or speaking Japanese for 2 months.) I'm not scared of speaking Japanese anymore. Even if I fail to communicate, I'm not afraid to try. My confidence was greatly boosted with Will and Mike here because I was able to get them around - order food, ask for directions, call a taxi company and get a ride...have some short conversations with people asking about us, etc. I called and talked with the bus company that was picking people up for the Mt. Fuji Climb to find out exactly where the bus would be waiting. Furuyasan's advice from the beginning of our lessons together was to talk to people in Japanese - at the grocery store, at the conbini, waiting for a train. I never felt confident doing that before, but now I feel comfortable saying anything just for the practice or just because I'm a human being and they're a human being and I've got something to say or ask. I'm able to hear Japanese a lot better now, and I'm actually starting to remember vocabulary that I pick up in various places. The Japanese I hear is starting to register more quickly in my brain. Before I would have to listen to something spoken very slowly, then take that sound and run it through my data bank of recorded vocabulary found in the deep reaches of my brain, translate it into English, and then I would understand. Now I can hear something and either it makes the switch into English very quickly, or maybe I'm even understanding in Japanese. I'm excited about studying again (even with a sopping wet lesson book - story to come later, maybe if I have the time to type it all out).
I'm really trying to put on a good attitude. I had to argue with myself in the shower this morning. I was wanting to feel sorry for myself because I missed out on the AJET Fuji Climb since I was too sore from climbing it on Wednesday night. I wanted to feel down, and then I said, "no, I will be happy" and then I said "but I don't have anything to be happy about, so it would be wrong to be cheerful today" and then I said "life is a good enough reason to be happy" and then I said, "I can't argue with that." So I stopped arguing with myself and I won.
I bought new glasses. They are cool, clear, plastic, Japanesey ones. I had gone last weekend to look and couldn't decide between the cool plastic ones and a pair of frameless glasses that were much lighter and more comfortable and more professional looking. I wanted to pick the frameless ones, but my desire to look cool won out. I really don't like glasses in general because of that professional look they give me. I've been going the past year without any glasses at all, so it's not like I'll be wearing them much anyway. Plus I'm getting lasik surgery when I get back from Japan so I won't need glasses after that at all.
Oh yeah, I took an eye exam and bought glasses all in Japanese this past week too. If you think it's a harrowing time at the eye doctor's in English, think about trying to do those tests all in Japanese. Brian Regan's sketch on glasses comes to mind...
Ok. I got lost on youtube while I was searching for that Brian Regan link. whoops. Time got away. Tomorrow is my first day of school for the new term. I'm not ready for school to start. I have to start making lesson plans again. It's late (12:25am as I'm typing this now - hey it's September!) but I'm not tired because I'm excited with life and life's possibilities. I need to start each morning with time - time to talk to myself (not the creepy schizophrenic kind, just the morning pep talk time) and time to talk with God, to relax and start the day. And I need to get sleep before that. Ok, I'll start that tomorrow night. But seriously, there are so many things to be happy about and if I just take the time to see things that way.
I have many stories to tell you. So many stories about the everyday extraordinary that I find here in Japan, stories about the beach and the mountains and friends and people and the things they tell me and the things I see. So many of these stories will fall down on me as I'm sitting in the States years from now. Maybe it will be a plate of noodles or a misunderstood word or a trip to the mountains, but something will set it off and I will suddenly be rushed back to these moments of life here on this island, so many miles from home.
Now I'm going for a walk along the ocean. I have too much energy to take to bed with me, I don't think I could keep my head on the pillow.
For now, goodnight.
.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
This month's pep talk
Ok. I've decided to be happy. I'm putting all of the crushing weight of heavy thoughts down, nothing needs to be tragic or dreary or even crucial. My perfectionism can bite it - I'm going to have fun. I've been saying this to myself the past 4 months and now maybe I'm starting to believe it: What's the point of doing this if I don't have fun? I'm done griping about my schedule and work, I'm just going to enjoy what I'm doing. If I'm doing something that must be done, that's fine, it doesn't mean that, therefore, I can't enjoy it. Put a silly grin on your face, Luther, and you'll start having fun.
And talk to people. Even if you can only get as deep as 1 sentence or 1 question. Just do it. Don't shy from anything. There's no point. I already know that when I'm back in America I'm never holding back if I have something to say, something to ask. I'll do it just because I can. That girl behind the counter at the coffee shop, the gas attendant, my pastor, police officer, mayor, guy behind me in line at the ATM - if I got something funny to say, a question to ask, it's coming out. Now in Japan, I'm in a different culture and a different language but heck to that! I'm still going to try my Japanese even if it makes no sense whatsoever. There is no good reason any more to stay quiet.
Make friends. Invite. Don't rot in your apartment. Coffee. A drink. Atami beach. Book shopping in Shizuoka. Check the Shizuoka guide. Concert. Museum. Temple.
Don't be a turd.
.
And talk to people. Even if you can only get as deep as 1 sentence or 1 question. Just do it. Don't shy from anything. There's no point. I already know that when I'm back in America I'm never holding back if I have something to say, something to ask. I'll do it just because I can. That girl behind the counter at the coffee shop, the gas attendant, my pastor, police officer, mayor, guy behind me in line at the ATM - if I got something funny to say, a question to ask, it's coming out. Now in Japan, I'm in a different culture and a different language but heck to that! I'm still going to try my Japanese even if it makes no sense whatsoever. There is no good reason any more to stay quiet.
Make friends. Invite. Don't rot in your apartment. Coffee. A drink. Atami beach. Book shopping in Shizuoka. Check the Shizuoka guide. Concert. Museum. Temple.
Don't be a turd.
.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Next
Year Two
August
Shizuoka
I moved into town. Took a 3:30. Didn’t get there ‘til Four. My mind raced around nothing, grabbing to the little pieces that were wisps, waiting for something to materialize. I was fallow and realized this happened some time ago. I beat the road, looking for cigarettes. The machines had since gone Taspo – you now needed a card to buy from them, even though the beer machines were left open to the world and open to the teens. Cigarettes were a bigger pull I guess. You looked cooler taking a smoky drag, more than a cool pull. Sunday. Where had Saturday gone? I always wish I had more time, always kicking myself for not starting earlier. Less than eight hours ‘til the last train. Had this been eight, I could have had the whole day. Hell, I could put in my day and still return to the sun and a messy apartment, maybe with a reserve of motivation to clean. I was living between work weeks, weeks spent away from home, my Japanese home. In this day I realized that I wanted my home back home – over oceans and half a continent – to the sweet center of the northern world where my ancestors settled, having crossed that opposite ocean. I stood on the dirt outside the station, stood on an exposed root, looking down. This was Minnesotan soil – I pictured the woods in my periphery, green and hollow, leaves lined parallel, seeing water through the gaps and sun behind it. The soil was beaten low, maybe trampled by that summer’s campers, all putting their tent in the same spot, the door facing the southern sun.
I could write, I knew it, if only I had a plan. I could play, I knew it, if only I had the drive, the discipline. The stick of a benny addict. Or the observation of a man with an eye. But I was seeing maimed, almost half of my senses gone. My nose didn’t work and my eyes only saw the inside workings of myself, those tired and worn from a year overseas, away from home. I could talk to anyone now, I knew it. I would ask all the questions that popped into my head.
God, I loved – loved every girl that walked by, yet I knew I was settling for Japanese women, their faces now softening to my eyes. I know I’ll end up with a Minnesota girl, blond hair and blue eyes with a smile of wintry beauty, a beauty that warms in the summer and turns to golden brown, hair that lightens with the brightness of her laugh, tanning in rolled down shorts and freckled shoulders, looking at me sideways as she lays on the lawn. Soft white eyelids, like silk on my lips. You don’t have to explain anything to your own kind, you just get each other. Someone who knows the grip of Cheez-its, the foul of lutefisk, the lethargy that comes with the sound of an organ playing somber Lutheran hymns. It sounds strange to you, but isn’t it so normal? Such a part of the grind? Heaven knows it and heaven is soft and bright – a soft edged whiteness drifting above it all and settling down upon the sharp-tipped world below, dulling its points and blurring its edges, the grey melting into rubbed charcoal into cream into white.
Run away and marry me. I will love you forever.
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