Hard Times Are Over

Messages To And From Strangers

Hi, Kirk. From the name of your 'blog, I'm guessing that at some point, you lived in Japan, ne?

You are right, Kirk, in your comment on my last entry: I don't write about what you call the boring aspects of my day.

I don't wriite about cleaning out the box that sits on the teacher prep table that holds all the markers and I don't write about how, yesterday, I got to the train station and thought: Did I leave the burner on under the tea kettle? I don't write about how I I thought I'd call Ben (who hadn't left for work yet) to ask him to stop by my apartment, and about how I then thought: No, I'll just go back and check, which I did...

So, no I didn't write about that.

I don't write about how Jun showed up yeaterday, high on dentist-prescribed drugs, having broken a tooth on a chicken bone.

I don't write about how Ben was late to work, so late that I was already prepping the lesson he was supposed to teach.

I don't write about the young man, Takeshi, who Yuko describes as "a typical Japanese man" who I sat and talked to for about an hour after classes yesterday about his recent trip to Germany. We struggled to find a way to connect.

And I don't write about that. I don't write about my worries or my fears about living here, about the demons I am up against here. I don't write about those things.

So, yeah, Kirk, thank you for remembering to say that the drinking part of the life I have in Japan is just that, just a part of the life I have here. Thank you for remembering that there is more to it than drinking, but that the more-to-it parts are...not less worthy...but, let's say, less 'blog worthy.

Strange Day

Today is Ken the fabulous boy wonder of a manager’s birthday. He’s all of twenty-five, which is a good age, but about fifteen years too young to make a man. Tonight we’ll go to celebrate with him.

Ken is a bit of a wierdo, which I love, but which makes the other boy teachers laugh at him a bit.

Ken does things like write John Lennon quotes on the board. Two days ago, he wrote, “God is a concept.” When I asked him to explain, he sang a bit of John Lennon at me:

“God is a concept, by which we measure our pain...”

I didn’t recognize the song, and I would have sworn at the time Ken sang it to me that I had never heard it before, although later I found myself quoting from the same song in unison with Ben:

“I don’t believe in Beatles, I just believe in me.”

Yesterday, a student showed up to sign up for lessons wearing a faded John Lennon t-shirt. Power to the People was written across the front. I sang the tune and he looked at me as though I were not entirely stable. (A fair look, that.) He sat in the lobby and played guitar along with Ken, Ben, and Jun, all of whom aspire to rock stardom...

And I wonder: Why is John suddenly so insistent?

Perhaps today I’ll go out to the John Lennon Museum in Saitama and find out....

Strange Messengers

Yuko leans over the railing of the third floor balcony and says, "I have to remember that these are good times."

Her words are full of an unfamiliar clarity and I ask what she means. She explains that with me here and with Ben here and with Seth here and with her life the way it is, that she has to remember that these are good times. It is simple. It is so simple that I am shocked by its simplicity into my own expression of gratitude.

Strange Angels

Who said it? Who said that we have to remember that anyone we meet may be an angel sent by god to work on our behalf, for our benefit?

On the train, I remind myself to be in love with everyone I see. I remind myself to greet each stranger with an expression that says to them, "I've been waiting for you! I've missed you. Remember that I love you and that we love each other. I've been waiting---"

And I am grateful.

I am grateful to and for you, David and Kirk. Ken and Yuko, Jun and Ben and Yuki. I am grateful for you, Mom and Marshall and Grenkle and Boss. I am grateful to and for you, Stef and April and Aaron and Rudy. I am grateful to the woman on the train, the woman in kimono, who sang softly to herself, her eyes closed, rehearshing a song. I am grateful to and for Ellaine, who said, "I never refuse a gift." I am grateful to be reminded that its all a gift. It's all nothing but gifts that we should never, ever refuse. Ever.

I'll say hello to John and Yoko for you.