It's not easy to describe this feeling; but let me try nonetheless.
If plants can sit quietly and be productive, staying in the same spot and bearing the fruits of their labor everyday, then I am an animal. I feel at ease when I am in motion.
Perhaps I am running away, from something. Perhaps there is, that I cannot bear to face. Perhaps I lack of, courage.
But one cannot run away forever. One ought to neither look down, nor look behind. One must face up, and thrust forward, and there is no other way can one lead his life.
Notwithstanding, a person can feel that he is alone and by himself. He feels that no one understands him, or tries. He feels fear enveloping him, and he feels helpless as he is in the verge of collapsing into darkness.
What does a person ought to do, once he is faced with that?
For a person's life does not belong to himself. It belongs to the people around him, and he owes his life to his mortal enemies as much as he owes it to his best friends. There is only one real duty, that is to live, to see through the scary parts of the fairy tale and eventually discover that dragons can be slain.
If such a man was to come to me, I at least have an answer. Go to a Japanese train station. No, don't jump off the tracks, that won't solve anything. Take the fastest train, something faster than the special limited express, if possible. Go to the first car where the conductor maneuvers the vehicle like a wizard bringing his golem to life. Do it early in the morning, let the sun bash your head and knock into you some life. Watch the Japanese towns, trees, and landscapes unzip before your eyes. It doesn't matter whether you are standing by yourself or there is a crowd of commuters behind you. Keep looking straight up, feel your body accelerating with the train. Zoom past your worries, troubles, and loneliness. Until the next stop, they cease to exist.
And sometimes that small pause is all we need.
A small hope.
Perhaps through that tiny seep, one can realize that those fears, worries, loneliness, are but illusions one create and stubbornly cling onto. That's why velocity might just be able to shake them off.
Isn't it a joy to be living?
Sunday, 26 April 2015
Thursday, 2 April 2015
A Date with Me
I'm probably going through a rebellious phase.
I don't even know where to begin describing this feeling; it probably has to do with the volatile emotions and feelings I've been pressurized by lately. As I watched my internal world getting torn asunder, I laid down and surrendered. I felt so much pain throbbing in my heart, that I thought I was falling into darkness.
Fortunately, I received a few words of wisdom. These words told me to take it easy, to relax, to feel the feeling. Subsequently, a cool, calm feeling enveloped me. When I woke up this morning, I wasn't quite sure what happened, but I felt very relaxed. Instead of finishing whatever work I had, I opened my laptop and savored wonderful music. I felt fearless, I feared of losing nobody, I started desiring my own company. My intuition was speaking louder than ever, and it felt so good. I must be doing something right.
I knew that today is the only sunny day in Osaka this week, and this is the week when sakura flowers (cherry blossoms) bloom. I felt the urge of taking part in ohanami (sakura-viewing), but I have classes until 4pm on Thursdays. It took quite a while, but I managed to convince myself to skip my afternoon classes. I know that skipping classes amounts to a certain disrespect to the teachers, but I had this feeling that I could not miss this no matter what. It was a lesson more important than the ones I learn in class. I could've asked for my friends to tag along, as the me before would've done. But not this time. I also had another feeling that it has to be done by myself, me alone, and I liked that feeling. I wanted to escape from a friend. Nothing wrong with her, but these past few days I felt like staying away from her. I felt a strange repulsion, a different energy, for one reason or another.
Thus I met one of my afternoon teachers and sent a text to the other. I left school at 1230, had an amazing lunch at my favorite place near my apartment, and then bought snacks for the hanami. I was pretty gracious: I got myself green tea, milk coffee, chocolate moist cake, pea chips, and green tea biscuits. One train ride and one monorail ride later I arrived in heaven on earth. In between tall buildings and houses there was a fenced patch of green, with tall trees handsomely encircling it. White-pinkish sakura flowers were in their full bloom; not unlike a group of elegant ladies laughing merrily. People were sprawling about like ants, kids were playing on the fields and adults either seated and talking or lying down and relaxing. I was taking so many pictures that I had to stop myself.
Anyone with a decent imagination would create her own safe haven, a beautiful place to retreat into where there's nowhere else to go. In the mind of the middle school me, my safe haven was a bustling night street, with dim lights and rows and rows of blooming sakura trees to the right and the left of the streets. There are many Japanese-style festival stalls that sells food and offers opportunities to have fun, and I imagined walking down that street seeing people I know and love, stopping every so often to talk to them; all while enjoying the falling petals of sakura and the soft evening wind.
I was genuinely startled to see my tiny sanctuary in real life, with my own eyes. Except, of course, it wasn't in the evening and I knew and talked to nobody on that street. But yet, I was very grateful. To close your eyes and imagine your own little sanctuary, and to open your eyes and finding yourself there, it's quite a feeling to describe.
And yes, I was by myself, but I was far from lonely. I was enjoying my independence, my solitude. It felt good to be able to have the highest degree of freedom, to be able to decide where to go next or how long to stay at that place for, without worrying how your company might think or feel. I collected sakura flowers to be pressed at one moment, and started munching the green tea biscuits at another. I meandered through a street market, got myself lost, found my way back again. I sat in an empty stadium and sipped my green tea while watching the flowers and the kids who are playing badminton down below. And yes, it was such a joy.
I left the big park, thinking that there was another small park to be discovered beyond the eastern gates. I was wrong; there was only a deserted concrete space with pockets of sakura trees. I am now very glad that I made the mistake. I found an empty space (there were none inside the very crowded park) and lied down next to a sakura tree. I took deep breaths, meditated for a bit, talked to myself, and stared at the pinkish blossoms. I felt the soft and moist sensation of the grass below, gently pressing themselves against my skin. I then sat up, finished my snacks, and lied down again. I contemplated the beauty right before my eyes, and for that moment, I ceased to worry about what has happened and what was going to happen. I felt a joyous, glistening energy through my body.
I left when I wanted to leave; when it finally got cold enough. It was a day of freedom well-spent, and probably much deserved and needed. I'm so glad that I'm by myself, I had nobody to entertain or to take care but by myself. I could get myself dirty and stare at the flowers silly without a care. I could talk to myself, I could hum out loud, without worrying what my company might think about me.
Dear Universe, thank you for today. Thank you for the beauty, for the peace of mind, for the solitude. Thank you for reconnecting me with nature. Thank you for giving me even more opportunities to be grateful. Thank you for reminding me that life is worth living. Thank you for giving me the courage to step out alone, by myself, to explore. Thank you.
---
On a side note, the weather is warm enough such that I am opening my windows in the hopes of getting my room cooler. Thank goodness(:
---
And honestly, despite the fact that it was so fun to be with myself, a part of me wished that I was holding the hands of the girl I was dating in Kyoto (see the previous post) as I walked down the path of sakuras. Maybe, someday, someday.
I don't even know where to begin describing this feeling; it probably has to do with the volatile emotions and feelings I've been pressurized by lately. As I watched my internal world getting torn asunder, I laid down and surrendered. I felt so much pain throbbing in my heart, that I thought I was falling into darkness.
Fortunately, I received a few words of wisdom. These words told me to take it easy, to relax, to feel the feeling. Subsequently, a cool, calm feeling enveloped me. When I woke up this morning, I wasn't quite sure what happened, but I felt very relaxed. Instead of finishing whatever work I had, I opened my laptop and savored wonderful music. I felt fearless, I feared of losing nobody, I started desiring my own company. My intuition was speaking louder than ever, and it felt so good. I must be doing something right.
I knew that today is the only sunny day in Osaka this week, and this is the week when sakura flowers (cherry blossoms) bloom. I felt the urge of taking part in ohanami (sakura-viewing), but I have classes until 4pm on Thursdays. It took quite a while, but I managed to convince myself to skip my afternoon classes. I know that skipping classes amounts to a certain disrespect to the teachers, but I had this feeling that I could not miss this no matter what. It was a lesson more important than the ones I learn in class. I could've asked for my friends to tag along, as the me before would've done. But not this time. I also had another feeling that it has to be done by myself, me alone, and I liked that feeling. I wanted to escape from a friend. Nothing wrong with her, but these past few days I felt like staying away from her. I felt a strange repulsion, a different energy, for one reason or another.
Thus I met one of my afternoon teachers and sent a text to the other. I left school at 1230, had an amazing lunch at my favorite place near my apartment, and then bought snacks for the hanami. I was pretty gracious: I got myself green tea, milk coffee, chocolate moist cake, pea chips, and green tea biscuits. One train ride and one monorail ride later I arrived in heaven on earth. In between tall buildings and houses there was a fenced patch of green, with tall trees handsomely encircling it. White-pinkish sakura flowers were in their full bloom; not unlike a group of elegant ladies laughing merrily. People were sprawling about like ants, kids were playing on the fields and adults either seated and talking or lying down and relaxing. I was taking so many pictures that I had to stop myself.
Anyone with a decent imagination would create her own safe haven, a beautiful place to retreat into where there's nowhere else to go. In the mind of the middle school me, my safe haven was a bustling night street, with dim lights and rows and rows of blooming sakura trees to the right and the left of the streets. There are many Japanese-style festival stalls that sells food and offers opportunities to have fun, and I imagined walking down that street seeing people I know and love, stopping every so often to talk to them; all while enjoying the falling petals of sakura and the soft evening wind.
I was genuinely startled to see my tiny sanctuary in real life, with my own eyes. Except, of course, it wasn't in the evening and I knew and talked to nobody on that street. But yet, I was very grateful. To close your eyes and imagine your own little sanctuary, and to open your eyes and finding yourself there, it's quite a feeling to describe.
And yes, I was by myself, but I was far from lonely. I was enjoying my independence, my solitude. It felt good to be able to have the highest degree of freedom, to be able to decide where to go next or how long to stay at that place for, without worrying how your company might think or feel. I collected sakura flowers to be pressed at one moment, and started munching the green tea biscuits at another. I meandered through a street market, got myself lost, found my way back again. I sat in an empty stadium and sipped my green tea while watching the flowers and the kids who are playing badminton down below. And yes, it was such a joy.
I left the big park, thinking that there was another small park to be discovered beyond the eastern gates. I was wrong; there was only a deserted concrete space with pockets of sakura trees. I am now very glad that I made the mistake. I found an empty space (there were none inside the very crowded park) and lied down next to a sakura tree. I took deep breaths, meditated for a bit, talked to myself, and stared at the pinkish blossoms. I felt the soft and moist sensation of the grass below, gently pressing themselves against my skin. I then sat up, finished my snacks, and lied down again. I contemplated the beauty right before my eyes, and for that moment, I ceased to worry about what has happened and what was going to happen. I felt a joyous, glistening energy through my body.
I left when I wanted to leave; when it finally got cold enough. It was a day of freedom well-spent, and probably much deserved and needed. I'm so glad that I'm by myself, I had nobody to entertain or to take care but by myself. I could get myself dirty and stare at the flowers silly without a care. I could talk to myself, I could hum out loud, without worrying what my company might think about me.
Dear Universe, thank you for today. Thank you for the beauty, for the peace of mind, for the solitude. Thank you for reconnecting me with nature. Thank you for giving me even more opportunities to be grateful. Thank you for reminding me that life is worth living. Thank you for giving me the courage to step out alone, by myself, to explore. Thank you.
---
On a side note, the weather is warm enough such that I am opening my windows in the hopes of getting my room cooler. Thank goodness(:
---
And honestly, despite the fact that it was so fun to be with myself, a part of me wished that I was holding the hands of the girl I was dating in Kyoto (see the previous post) as I walked down the path of sakuras. Maybe, someday, someday.
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