I had big plans for this entry. Photos of the shrines and temples I visited on the eve and first few days of 2012 in search of some sort of clue as to how to live out my new year. A few choice captions, inviting readers to draw their own conclusions. Title? “Shrine, Shrine, Everywhere a Shrine” – a light-hearted prelude to contrast the weighty content. Deep, meaningful, decided.
I guess one for three’s not so bad.
Somewhat disappointingly, my decision cannot be traced back to any one pivotal moment. No earth-shattering epiphany. In fact, when I told my Kocho sensei in early January that I’d been to a number of shrines over the holidays, hoping to “...get an answer...” he looked at me, obviously amused, before shrugging indifferently, “I have never heard the voice of God speak to me.”
Immediately embarrassed, I started back-pedaling, trying to find a way of explaining simply, yet elegantly, that I don’t actually hear “the Voice of God”, but do sometimes encounter places so inspired or people whose words ring so true that I can’t help but wonder at their origin. Thankfully, our conversation shifted to fluffier things, but as he pulled into Copo Hestia’s driveway, he turned to me, eyes twinkling. “The next time you need a sign, please talk to me.”
However, having spent the last several months talking myself blue in the face to anyone whose opinion might help shape my own, I needed to do the opposite. At the suggestion of a very dear friend who has always had my best interests at heart, I shut my mouth, emptied my brain as best I could, and listened.
I listened to the concerns of my ever-supportive family as they struggled to understand why their darling girl would choose “away” over “home” yet again. To the encouragement, “selfishness” and vicarious living of friends half a world away. To the rationalizations and realities of the many wonderful people in Tottori who are choosing to re-contract next year.
I listened to my colleagues’ early morning staffroom chatter, wondering if it would ever register as anything more than something indiscernibly Japanese.
Often, I listened to music. To Sarah Slean’s incredibly moving “Land & Sea.” To the latest independent Canadian artists on CBC Radio 3. To Japanese tunes recommended by students and teachers. To Serena Ryder, Downhere, Yelo Molo, and Leonard Cohen. To John Fettes, Tricot Machine, Tons of Fun University, and Vusi Mahlasela. To Michael Franti and Michael W. Smith.
Sometimes, I listened to nothing at all.
And, somehow, during all of this listening, it snuck up on me. I can’t pinpoint precisely when, nor can I explain exactly why, but I’ve made my decision. I have decided to stay in Japan for another year.
I hope you’ll continue to drop me a line from time to time. I love to listen to you, too!
