Diametrical Opposition
I am back in Japan, and you may be surprised to know that I do not really have a whole lot to say about it this time around. I know that all of you keep checking up on me to see what is new in J-land, and in my most honest description, it is as simple as feeling like I have returned back to a familiar comfort zone. Japan, to me, is no longer a foreign land. It has lost its sparkle and it has lost much of its fresh and foreign mysticism. I did not come back here to rediscover that jaded utopia that captivated me last summer, or the honeymoon-like atmosphere that wrapped me warm last winter. I have realized, after arriving here again, that those emotions are things that come with any new territory. My relationship with Japan has not fizzled by any means; it has just become more realistic, and maybe even a little more sincere.
It wasn't until the other day, while we were down by the pond in the park, sprawled on a blanket, reading, and writing, that I realized Japan is no different for me, than all the things I appreciate, and detest back in the states. Neither emotion is more than the other, and this epiphany hit me as calm and comforting as a hand on my shoulder: I have found my equilibrium in a foreign place that is no longer foreign to me the slightest. People here aren't Japanese. They aren't Chinese either, or Korean, etc. They are people, just like me, and though they continue to look at me with slight interest and curiosity, whether in a negative or positive light, they are still merely people to me. It has taken me over a year and three separate journeys here to realize that a place is a place, and people are people, and grocery stores are grocery stores no matter where you go. No matter the differences, and no matter the extremes, it's this respective integration that makes you realize the power of perception is yours to command. Everything else is just a perk, or conversely, those little things you ignore because they just come with the territory.
It has taken me a week to write this, though I really needed that week to relate, if not one more to get it straighter than straight. I know that it's not really necessary though. I feel fine. Everything is fine--finer than fine, actually. I am right where I needed to be. And I couldn't be happier.
It wasn't until the other day, while we were down by the pond in the park, sprawled on a blanket, reading, and writing, that I realized Japan is no different for me, than all the things I appreciate, and detest back in the states. Neither emotion is more than the other, and this epiphany hit me as calm and comforting as a hand on my shoulder: I have found my equilibrium in a foreign place that is no longer foreign to me the slightest. People here aren't Japanese. They aren't Chinese either, or Korean, etc. They are people, just like me, and though they continue to look at me with slight interest and curiosity, whether in a negative or positive light, they are still merely people to me. It has taken me over a year and three separate journeys here to realize that a place is a place, and people are people, and grocery stores are grocery stores no matter where you go. No matter the differences, and no matter the extremes, it's this respective integration that makes you realize the power of perception is yours to command. Everything else is just a perk, or conversely, those little things you ignore because they just come with the territory.
It has taken me a week to write this, though I really needed that week to relate, if not one more to get it straighter than straight. I know that it's not really necessary though. I feel fine. Everything is fine--finer than fine, actually. I am right where I needed to be. And I couldn't be happier.
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Love and miss you.