I find it interesting how I seem to naturally fall into a certain language depending on my state of mind.
And I am acutely aware of which certain state of mind requires English to be expressed.
Today is the first of August. The start of a new year is upon me. As I have previously expressed, in whatever language, I count years in academic years. Whatever milestones I have achieved thus far in my life have been in some way related to school so it seems the most natural. Not to mention the fact that this way I get to start a new year in the best of weather conditions. (In theory.)
At least sunlight
will remain constant
and free of cost.
I don't intend to gaze forward before revisiting the year that is now meeting its demise. Truthfully, I am not going to miss it. As enlightening as it has been.
But I do owe thanks to a handful of people who have shepherded me through it. Because I really have been a sheep for the better part of it. And a lion masquerading as a sheep will only tear up its costume and end up naked.
Today I find immense comfort in many things, and I am quite proud to say that not one of them is destructive to myself or others. Which is a first.
(Who knew folding paper and collecting memories could be so exciting?)
At times I do feel idle and redundant. ("At times" here meaning once every hour, of every day.) Then I realize that I never did do anything of value during those empty moments - I simply thought I did. Calling such a moment "drinking because it's Friday" or "having sex because I can" will not make it any less void of substance.
The boundaries of language
I quietly cursed
and all the different names
for the same thing.
Emptiness still scares me witless. Simultaneously I find tranquility in feeling it, because I know it will pass and then something wonderful will come along.
The problem, I believe, with filling those moments with seemingly meaningful activity is that that those activities seldom keep to their allotted spaces of time. They spread, and soon one's entire life consists of empty moments covered up with meaningless tasks.
I struggle to find direction or value in my life. Perhaps everyone feels an inherit need to be needed in some regard. I have been clinging desperately to the concept of belonging to a family. Because children provide their guardian with such excellent sense of responsibility.
And I have felt responsible for all my siblings for as long as I can remember. They are, all three of them, such extraordinary people it is difficult not to want to be in as close affinity with them as possible. But they deserve to be treated as equals by me. And I think I would enjoy not feeling like a parent for some time to come.
So I accept that I will miss them when I am away. And that I am not abandoning them when I leave.
All I need to do now is find some other meaning for everything I do. And that brings us to the commencing new year.
If not the moon
will us guide
will then the streetlight?
I am at the verge of probably the greatest adventure I have yet undertaken. In twenty-six days I will be throwing caution into the wind and moving to Japan for the autumn. By myself.
And it absolutely terrifies me.
(Actually it is probably the best thing that has happened to anyone, ever.)
Excitement. Thrill. Exhilaration. Rapture.
All things definitely worth living for.
And finding them in all places imaginable is a meaningful purpose. Be it reading an engaging book, defying a previous fear, paddling down a forceful river. Or touching someone whose smile is so disarming that you feel you might dissolve at any given time you have the pleasure of witnessing it.
If you touch me
well I just think
cause it's been so long since
someone challenged me.
In other words, I eagerly anticipate whatever this year might bring. I am really scared out of my mind and nervous and devastatingly infatuated and confused and disarranged and mostly completely without direction.
But I'm having the time of my life.
(I might add that I probably will be writing significantly more about Japan in the future.)