Action : Reaction

Blood boils.  Teeth clenches.  Snap. 

I think one of my greatest weaknesses have been my propensity to over-react.  In an instant, all the things that I pride myself on (charm, charisma, my smile) evaporates in a blazing fire.  I've burned many bridges due to my over-reaction.

There's a time to take action, and there's a time to take no action.  And sometimes, taking no action can lead to a much better outcome.

Having just recently turned 27, I can reflect on some of the aspects where I have matured.  My aversion to over-react is definitely one of them.  I try not to worry about things that I have no control over.  I've come to realize that my over-reaction was a direct result of my desire to regain control.  It wasn't happening.  At least not at that moment.  Just sit back and let things unfold. 

No more crazy outbursts.  No more uncalled for remarks.  No more punch-marks on the wall.

Summer in Saijo

From an outsider's perspective, this city doesn't hold too many attractions.  It's home to some old-fashioned sake breweries, with Hiroshima University located just a few kilometers down the main boulevard.  But to me, the true charm of this city lies in its people.  Namely, the people that I worked with and the students that I taught.

I was a part of something special.  It was in the air, in the smiles of the people around me, and in the hopes of a bright future.  It felt as though the planets were aligned during this short period of 3 months, where I met and became friends with a fantastic group of people.  But the nature of my job forced me to part ways, thus leading to our tearful goodbyes.  

As part of a seminar for my school, I taught my students how to write various poetry in English.  As one of the activities, I introduced 'name poems' by writing my own.  Afterwards, I posted it on the office wall for everyone to see.  At the time, I did it for kicks, but in saying my farewells, it may seem all too appropriate.  It read like this: 

Japan is where I was born,
United States is where I was raised.
Now I am back where it all began.

On the road of life,
Nobody can predict the future.
Instead we can only look ahead.
Stronger and smarter we become.
Holding on to our loved ones,
Is the only way to live.

I will never forget my Summer in Saijo.

The Lone Wolf

Are they born out of choice or by necessity?  Were they banished from the pack by refusal of conforming to a beta-male mentality?  Or are they simply creatures that function better in solitude, unrestricted by bonds and unburdened by familial responsiblities?

I ask because I am a lone wolf. 

Despite being blessed with a great circle of friends, I often found myself needing to withdraw from the populace, as though it was a duty or a calling in life.  Solitude had its advantages.  To rely solely on myself was a measure of how independant I could be, and I perceived this to be some sort of an individual achievement.  I was in charge of my own destiny.  Every mood, action, and emotion was a cause of my own doing.  I found great comfort in that.

But at the end of each night, like a wolf howling into the moon, my mind drifted back to those I left behind.  The memories of my friends became my only solace.  And what was once strength in solitude turned into doubt.  I feared what life would become without another moment of companionship, banter, and connection.  I learned the value of what others can bring to my life.  It was in those supplemental joys of a shared meal with a table of friends, that I was able to truly appreciate life once again.

Yet here I am, alone again, walking the path of a lone wolf.

Sometimes in life, choices aren't made.  They are handed to you.  And it's how you cope with these changes that breeds a better you.  There is no regret in how my life played out.  I will simply howl louder until one day, I am heard.  And then I will lead a pack of my own.  Whether it's through a new group of drinking buddies, or with an affectionate wife and loving children, this lone wolf simply refuses to die alone.

Tear Drop

Weeping over a loved one, that's okay.  And there's no shame in tears of joy.  Death is often a harbinger for tears of grief and sorrow.  Even super spicy food can bring a grown man to become teary-eyed.  But the one thing I could not stand for was crying during movies.  I didn't think I was physically capable of it.

That is, until I recently watched a Japanese animated movie entitled, "Grave of the Fireflies."  I was bawling by the end of this film.  And while the tears were flowing from my face, I did not feel one ounce of shame or humiliation.  It felt rather liberating.

It's an interesting metamorphosis.  Throughout our childhood, we are told that crying is for babies and little girls.  If you want to be an adult, you mustn't cry.  Men that cry are labeled 'sissies,' 'pansies,' and 'cry babies.'  Sure enough, tears induced by shame, physical pain, or homesickness should be left to the young ones.

As we grow older, we reach an age of enlightenment.  The mind becomes mature enough to empathize to such a degree that another person's tears can become our own.  Years of adversity can finally add up to one moment of awe or inspiration, and it can be expressed outwardly in the form of tears of joy.  In these instances, not only is crying accepted but it's even encouraged.

Crying is not a sign of weakness.  Rather, it is a form of psychological arousal that can only lead to acceptance, closure, and growth.

Please note: if you are clinically depressed, crying is just a symptom, not a cure.