Month: November 2016

Lying in bed, just listening, I’ve just discovered that my fan is a musical noisemaker. He has his overtoned hoooooommmm all the time, I’ve known for years. But just now, listening for inspiration around me, I heard the dooon tick-tick, dooon tick-tick of a perfect waltz.

Chugging along at a deceivingly casual pace, he sings for us, hoping to provide a space of glorious motion to abstract, yet perfect, music. He sings to me, and lulls me toward dancing. I want to Viennese, but really must sleep.

He is a tricky one, that fan- quite tempting. Now I shall sleep to this dooon tick-tick, and probably with a dance in my head. Goodnight, dear fan, and goodnight, dear world. Sweet, musical dreams, may they abound tonight. See you en la mañana.

Day 31 of 40

Today, Wednesday, November 9th, I left Tokyo at 5:34p.m., and arrived to Houston at 5:28 p.m…. on Wednesday, November 9th.  How cool is time travel?!

 

Also, I had the blessed opportunity to speak with all sorts of people on the outcome of this year’s presidential election, and find true connection with them all, and all of them being from incredibly different backgrounds and holding all sorts of opinions on how they’d wanted the election to reach its completion.  And I felt so connected with the American People, having these totally random strangers converse openly and comfortably about things that easily could have been a major point of stress or argument for any one of them.

Today was a beautiful day.  A long one, but a beautiful one.  🙂

 

Day 30 of 40

Some nights, you just can’t seem to get to bed early enough… zzzzz…

… and then you’re awakened all too early by the alarm

 

Day 29 of 40

Today I got to sit in on two music classes.  The first was a trio class in a practice room with two pianos and a teacher, working on ear training.  We ended up talking a lot about hair and about musical performances, both in Japanese and English.  The second, however, was a rehearsal for a performance at an elementary school in a few weeks (I was invited to come by the girls in the ear training class).  It was in this second class that my heart melted open.

Moving to Japan, with no nearby friends or acquaintances, and no instruments around me, I have had almost no live music (and definitely not of the caliber I once had on the daily).  And, to add to that, I have hardly listened to music at home for some reason.  Today, in that second class, as the piano-oboe duo began playing, I found myself crying (literally by the oboe’s second note, my eyes were watered up).  It was as if their notes had coaxed open my whole being, serenading my heart and soul, to the point of having bliss overflow in all directions.  It was perfection…really.  And they messed up in all sorts of ways, with the pianist forgetting parts of the pieces and the oboist’s music book flipping back a page whilst she played.  And it was the greatest time I’ve had at that school.  And I meant ever.

All art is medicine, and music in particular is my breath of life.  Today, I breathed easily and truly for the first time in a long while.  Now for more air in the coming weeks and months, ne?  Thank you, ni-nensei*.  Thank you.  🙂

 

*For those wondering, ne is like asking a question for verification, and ni-nensei means “second-year students”

Day 28 of 40

I can’t decide if dumpster diving in Japan would be fabulous or just the worst.  In most of the places I have lived, one could find all sorts of wonders in the trash, especially in certain parts of town.  However, Japan seems to have a rather odd relationship with trash, when compared to all of those places.  In my current town, there seem to be a million bags for different types of trash.  There’s burnables (aka food and paper products), PET recycling (aka water bottles, etc.), recycling label recycling (aka plastic of almost all sorts, excepting the PET bottles and their caps), another recycling of some sort (yeah, I’m not too sure on that one), bulk paper, bulk clothing, and non-burnables (aka styrofoam, metals, a few other things, and anything you don’t feel like sorting).  Oh, and you have to wash anything that had food or beverage on it.

That being said, I think the best option for finding wonders on a regular basis (By the way, 1) only certain kinds of trash are picked up each week, and always on different days from one another, and usually not more than twice a week for any one kind of trash; and 2) Dumpsters aren’t quite a thing, so much as ‘trash bag areas’ where people are only intended to put out their trash bags on the morning of collection, up until 8:30-ish AM.) would be the non-burnables bags.  However, the fact that one bag could be perfectly clean and sanitary and full of wonders, and one could be packed with food and bugs and unclean bottles that no one wanted to clean and sort, kind of makes me wonder.  Depending on the bag, you could easily hit either end of the spectrum, and anywhere in between.  Back home, you know that things are probably going to be messy on a regular basis, and so, when you find places that have better trash, you are delighted and overjoyed.  But, in Japan, you could start to expect the clean of the sorted trash, and then come across ones that people decided not to sort, which could just blow the whole experience.  I don’t know… I can’t decide yet: Might it be better or worse, going dumpster diving in Japan?

 

Day 27 of 40

You know that amazingly gorgeous and attractive woman you saw when growing up, at whom you just goggled – you couldn’t decide if you wanted to marry her or just be her?   I got to be her tonight.

Think Ingrid Bergman, Ginger Rogers, or Audrey Hepburn, with their classic, chic, sophisticated, attractive style of womanly beauty.  They could be drop-dead gorgeous, and even sexy, without ever turning thoughts toward the descriptors ‘sexual’ and ‘sex’.  When you see them, you just want to be them.  (Or else have a chance to see them in person, just to verify that you didn’t make it all up that this amazingly attractive woman exists.)

Now, move them to the 21st century, and dress them in casual weekend wear…  A black turtleneck, faded skinny-ish blue jeans, gray leg warmers, and black sandal heels with a slight bedazzlement.

When I saw myself in the mirror (dancing, of course), I was almost shocked to a halt: Was that really me I just saw????  I checked again at the next opportunity.  It was.  As I moved to the song, the combination of how I was dressed, how I felt, and how I was moving made for a view of this amazingly beautiful, magnetic, sexy woman I had only known from TV and movies.  And yet, here she was, right in front of me.  ‘I want to be her,’ I thought.  And I realized that I was talking about myself.  The rest of the night, I kept having to check the mirror, I just couldn’t fully grasp what I was seeing.  I saw myself, and I could hardly believe it…, but I certainly did eventually.  And wow.  Just wow, it was so fabulous an experience.  🙂

 

Day 26 of 40

Music just heals the soul.  As I listen to a ukulele cover of Jason Mraz’s beautiful “I’m Yours”, I can feel the notes flowing in and through and all around me… every cell in me is coming awake, breathing deeply and newly, embracing the music; and the music encompasses me.  Next, a little song by a guitar missing its D string sends electricity down my spine – it is music with heart, and heart that communicates well.

I really do love music.  It is sometimes just like air, but allows for an even deeper and more fulfilling breath when it is pure than oxygen ever seems to do.  I grew up wanting a soundtrack to my life (because the good ones in movies were always really good).  And I have been blessed to have regular (live) music be part of that soundtrack all through the years so far*… I can only imagine what beautiful music will find me in the coming years, as I find new friends and new places and new life.

 

*See a later post (to be linked here) for more on the time I actually had a perfect soundtrack synched up for an event in my life (and completely unintentionally).

Day 25 of 40

Two things today:

1) Do you ever leave things unfinished, just so you can have something to look forward to doing later on?  I do.  And often.

Sometimes, it is because I want to make sure I get out of bed and do something on a day off.  Sometimes it is because I am having a rough time in general, and so want to keep one of the few good things going, so to speak.  Actually, it’s usually that one… when I’m feeling sad and depressed, and I find something enjoyable to do, I’ll only halfway complete whatever it is, so that I can have something to look forward to doing tomorrow or after work today or whenever.  So much so, that, it turns into that math/physics problem of only ever covering half the distance, thereby never reaching the finish line – I never finish whatever the project was.

This is because, when I have something to look forward to doing, my general outlook is more positive for the day – I’m excited to a degree, my brain is in functioning mode, instead of survival-ish mode.  And, when I’m excited versus depressed-feeling, I tend to think more like the normal human being version of myself, and come up with things I want and/or need to do… and I often even do them.  So, by the time I get home later on, I’ve worn myself out from the day, such that I only accomplish one small bit (if any) of that half-finished project from last night, before declaring that, “Well, I do still need something to look forward to doing tomorrow.  So how about I leave this for tomorrow?… again.”  And so it continues, and sometimes without end (yet, anyway).  🙂

 

2) The world is just plain fabulous sometimes – last night I was sharing about how disappointed I am by the quality of ice cream in my town, and, today, someone totally unaware of that conversation bought me delicious ice cream. Yesssssssss!

 

Day 24 of 40

I spent a good amount of my childhood sharing a bed with someone.  Now, after several years of having a bed all to myself, I almost can’t stand it.

Oftentimes, people talk about how wonderful it is when they finally get the bed to themselves, as opposed to having to share it with someone every night.  I think this is utter malarkey.  Sure, if the person kicks and snores and completely steals the sheets, it can be troublesome-slash-annoying.  However, an average sleeper, given an appropriate-sized bed, is of no disturbance at all.

A few weeks back, during a weekend spent in a homestay, the little girl (aged 5 years, I believe), came around 2:30 in the morning into my room, and snuggled up under the sheets with me.  I’ve never had someone sneak into bed with me before, but I must say that I totally loved it. (lulz, I know)  She, being a five-year-old, tossed and turned, kicked all over my legs, grabbed all over me, and even ended up somewhat sideways in the bed for a while.  And, I was completely okay with it.

Why?

Probably because I love human contact – physical touch is an overpowering necessity in my life.  And, even though I was being lightly pushed and prodded over the next several hours, I was totally content, and even passed back out rather well.  I love feeling someone next to me in bed.  We don’t have to be even touching for me to feel the comfort; just the fact that I can feel the presence, hear the breathing, and occasionally get rocked by the movements of the other person is often enough.

Some nights, I do want to fall asleep pressed up against another, like in the days of sharing a Full bed with my grown sister and her large dog, where no one had her own space completely, unless someone got up for the bathroom or a midnight snack (or even when my cat would sleep against my neck like a scarf, or next to-slash-under my head like a sort of pillow).  But usually, I just want someone close, with maybe a touch of the hand or foot here and there, subconsciously communicating that everything is okay, and I am safe and loved and doing quite well.

Less and less of my life as a whole accounts for the time spent sharing a bed, and I neither like that nor want it to be that way much longer.  Pillows and stuffed animals really are great, but only when they are temporary, like when on a long vacation or summer break.  And dance events are kind of the best, especially when we end up three to a bed on occasion, all nice and crushed.  But neither is sustainable (and I currently have neither in my life, actually… got to do something about that, and fast)…

Anyway, those are my bedtime thoughts today.  Now off to shower, organize a bit, Skype with my Christine, and sleep in (because there’s no work tomorrow woohoo!!)!  G’night, y’all.  ;D

 

 

Day 23 of 40

There seems to be a plethora (and an overwhelming one if you’re single and don’t want to be) of articles today on how to manage that long-distance dating relationship (LDR for the hip youngsters of all ages).  Some seem to have real oomf in them, filled with true experience and valid advice.  Some seem to be simple “You can do it!” articles.  But their contents is not the point – it’s their topic that catches my attention.  As I was reading a really fab one just now on the various phases of long-distance dating and how to survive them all, all I could think was, “What about long-distance besties?”

My best friend, Christine, and I have been long-distance for a while now.  I didn’t realize quite how long it has been, until, not quite two months ago, a friend of mine posted a photo on Facebook that read as follows:

A long distance friendship is literally worse than a long distance relationship.

I laughed when I read it, and thought of how Christine and I have been over the years.  We’ve had ups and downs of all sorts – in our relationship, in our personal and home lives, in our psychological stability, in our separate dating relationship statuses, and even in our physical locations.  And I think we’re loads better friends than we were when we started the long-distance thing.

How long has it been exactly since we lived in the same city?  We hit seven years in August.

It kind of blew my mind when I did the calculation, and I saw how long it had been.  When did that happen? was all I could think.  We’re so close, yet so far physically, I know.  But when did seven years of this happen?  How on Earth have we done that?

Truly, I think it was love and openness.  We loved one another such that, whoever the other was being at the time (even if it were self-involved, egotistical time), we still loved one another. We were each open to whatever the other might need or want to do in her life, either with the other or apart from the other, and whatever she needed or wanted to say about whatever the current matter was.

Example:

Christine, for whatever reason, cannot remember my birthday.  Oh, she knows it’s in February, but usually sends me some sort of super-happy I-forgot-your-birthday-but-I-still-love-you-and-you-are-amazing communication a week or two before my actual birthday.  We have celebrated my birthday together for the past 11.5 years, Facebook retains the fact of its timing, and she still gets it wrong come February.

So, how is this an example of our openness and love with and for one another?

Firstly, we talk about it – either one of us might bring it up to help her remember when my birthday is, and we know that it is “safe” to bring up and discuss (because of the whole loving part).

Secondly, neither of us is offended about it – if she forgets, I simply remind her of the correct date; if I remind her ahead of time, she is grateful for the reminder.  We both know that there are other things happening in life, and for both of us.  So we accept with open arms whatever happens to be put on the table for us.

And thirdly, we love one another, we bond over it, and our love for one another grows – the only reason we are able to treat the situation as we do, is because we love each other in the first place.  And since we treat the situation with openness, we are able to speak freely on the topic and laugh about it, and have fun with it, thereby having fun with one another (bonding).  Each time we end up discussing it, we experience the love and the fun and the bonding, and our true appreciation of the whole situation allows us to experience the love newly, as well as to expand our capacity for loving the other.  (That last one is difficult to put into words, so I hope that made sense enough.)

Without our love and openness, I think things would have fallen apart entirely.  Yes, we have times when we don’t vocally talk for months at a time.  And even times when we have no communication for a few weeks! We get busy in life, and when our daily lives aren’t shared, we sometimes don’t make time for one another.  However, we don’t ever make that mean that one of us does not love the other – we are clear, down to the core, that we love one another.  And we know that it is so on both ends of the relationship.

Even when Christine starts spending loads of time with a new girlfriend she thinks is amazing (or even her husband), I know that she isn’t getting rid of me – she’s just expanding herself and her love in her daily life, and taking care of herself – we need in-person relationships to survive.  And when I sometimes grow really annoyed with something in life, and just want to be mad for a bit, even though we have finally organized a Skype date, she is happy just to let me be mad and self-involved for our Skype session – she loves me and wants to be part of my life, and she knows that my anger is just my current experience of life, and so embraces it and me in our time together.

 

I’m not sure how to end this, so I’ll just say the following and be done:

Long-distance relationships of any kind can be difficult on a million levels – ours most certainly is at times, because we just wish we could be together, and then sometimes futz up the planning whenever we do get to be together – , but, if both parties are interested in keeping it alive, and willing to be open and loving, no matter what (even if the other ‘messes up big time’), the relationship is totally doable.

We don’t have a set end-time for our long-distance friendship, but we do discuss it regularly.  Last month was maybe a year or two; this month is maybe next year; and next month probably will be maybe three or five years.  We plan to live in the same neighborhood one day (the idea is whenever one of us has kids), but are completely open as to when that day actually happens – we want each other to live life to the fullest, even if it is semi-without the other for a while longer.  Life is constantly changing, in a beautiful (if you allow yourself to see it that way) ebb and flow.  So, too, must our relationships be.  That’s how we get to know the true beauty of the relationship, and of life and love.

 

Day 22 of 40