I have an interesting relationship with tea. (It's a long, sad story, actually. If you ask me, I'll tell ya some time.)
In moving to Japan, one thing I was most excited about…was tea! Maybe that sounds trite, but it's TRUE! Western marketing had informed me that tea is a big deal over here…and not just in the ceremonial sense, which I also knew to be true. Packages of organic or flavored teas on the Whole Foods shelves often offered assemblages of calligraphy, symbols, and images of Japan or Japanese-inspired names. "In Japan, everyone drinks delicious tea beside their Zen gardens," I deduced from the selection. And at the tea house in Boulder, I often gravitated to the leaves the menu cited as being of Japanese origin. "The tea from Japan must be the BEST," was kinda my underlying motivation, I think. So, yeah. I wanted to get here and immerse myself in the tasting of and learning about r e a l l y g o o d t e a s!! …But ya know what? That's not so easily done when you don't speak or read the language…and when you don't arrive with some basis of knowledge about the thing you so want to learn! (How do you ask a question about something without understanding it at least a little??) So…I was relegated to the same ol', same ol' tea bags of yore and the standard hot, green tea and occasional special cups of "exotic" teas when visiting other people in their homes.
I think maybe I was disillusioned. ---About the tea, sure, but largely about life in Japan, and more specifically about MY life in Japan. I mean, how can one know what it will be like to LIVE in a place so different from anywhere they've ever lived before?? I look at the ways in which I was perfectly prepared for this journey (an impeccable support system, apt technology to keep me connected with the familiar and help me learn about the brand new, training specific to the demands of missionary work, and openness, sensitivity, curiosity, and creativity prime for forging new relationships and teaching English), but I can now ALSO see the ways in which I was horribly UNDERprepared (issues of diet, allergies, and health, language, climate, and culture). In recent weeks, I sunk into this strange (internal) space.
Sick but happy (with my Japanese language class at karaoke) |
I've been back-to-back sick with one thing or another for WEEKS now, and the illness took a toll beyond the physical impact, you might expect. Being sick kept me from doing much and relegated me to (excessive) periods of time spent alone. One entire week, I was utterly voiceless! Let me tell you, conditions such as this do not lend themselves well to language-learning. I began to really struggle in class, with homework, and on tests! So…my self-identity obtained through a consistent sense of my own intellect was suddenly threatened. Likewise, lack of human interaction, and particularly with people who share my native tongue, left me doubting my sense of humor! Illness made my body look and feel differently, so I no longer had a sense of confidence in my appearance either. My English classes were postponed for the month of August for my students' summer break, so I didn't even have a sense of being useful! "Who AM I when I have no "mirror" through which to see myself?" I began to wonder. "I have completely forgotten myself."
Enter the afore-mentioned support system. I finally spoke up to a few select people about the sorrow, stress, and loneliness I was experiencing and each person responded in their own loving fashion to reassure and encourage me. (To know/remember that you are loved is perhaps the finest and most powerful medicine in the world.) This morning I got a really nice e-mail from a friend. He didn't take the route of merely fluffing my ego, sensing—I think—that when you're down in the dumps, there ain't much to fluff! ;) Instead, he basically said, "Yeah, your life is not what it once was. Your body is not what it once was. You are struggling...but there is joy to be had in even this. Make this time of your life a 'Renaissance of RheAnn.' Read, observe, write, create, be!" It really put things into perspective…immediately! I've been holding on so tightly to this IDEA I had of who I was, who I am, who I "should" be, what I'm doing, where I am, where I'm going, how I'd like my life…that I completely LOST myself when things didn't play out like the pictures on the tea boxes and the movies in my mind… Even with all the good and AMAZING things that have happened in these past four and a half months, I was feeling alone and sick and powerless to make change. The shadows were overtaking the light. …But when I think about the light that remained…it was precisely as my friend had suggested—in the joys of learning and/or creating something! Just this past weekend, I returned to Kunitachi to visit Mr. and Mrs. Koike for my pottery lesson. I am studying the style of renowned artist Oribe because I saw it in a book on my first visit and fell in LOVE with it. (The Koikes specialize in these techniques.) Saturday I finally painted the chawan (tea bowl) I made on my first visit in May. Mr. Koike pointed to an image he thought I should emulate and seated me in front of a bowl of chalky liquid and rustic brushes. Though it was my first time to use this medium...I took to it like Alec Baldwin hosting SNL or Quincy Jones winning a Grammy. You'd have thought I was born doing it! ;) And here's what I realized. Here's why I so adore my studies with the Koikes. ...My pace is perfect. I don't go too fast or slow. No one wishes I'd speed up or slow down. What I'm doing is exactly fine. There are flexible parameters. I have the tendency to become overwhelmed by possibility at times. In this artform, I have the guidelines and the materials, but also limitless creative freedom WITHIN those guidelines. I don't have to worry about anything. I can't even UNDERSTAND my teachers! :) When I am painting and when I am working with the clay, I am allowed to be without thought, and I mean it! I sit there using a part of my brain that is otherwise never uninterrupted. ...It's remarkable. The end result is out of my contol. In the Oribe style, it is said that "with God's blessing, you will make a good piece." This is because the raw materials used in the glaze undergo a chemical reaction when fired in the kiln and the ways they drip or bubble and the colors that are made are all unpredictable. ...I rather like that I can put hours of my effort toward making a "masterpiece" and leave not knowing what I've made.
So when I got that email from my friend today, everything kinda shifted for me. I took off of school, put on my eye mask and my earplugs--which I used to ALWAYS use, but haven't for a couple months--and I stretched out and slept soooo hard. I haven't slept like that since I've lived here! Then I got up and did some simple yoga. ...I haven't exercised in a couple months either, so it felt like I was breaking out of hard shell--like a cicada leaving its old skin. ..And aren't I?
I spent the remainder of my day reading and writing and reconnecting with people I love.
During this "Renaissance of RheAnn," I will go at my own pace, releasing any expectation that may lead me toward disappointment in myself. I will learn about tea and I will write things that matter to me and if I'm the dumbest in my class, I won't mind because I will learn in my own time. I'm going to find what I lost.
I nearly lost me there.
A cicada (or"semi") fashion show in Kunitachi |
2:30 AM |
Category: |
0
comments
Comments (0)