Mmm.

Having internet service at home makes me feel suddenly three times lonelier. Isn’t it interesting that our minds work like that? As soon as I have easy access to the people and animals I left behind (in addition to vital information of all sorts), I become conscious of my isolation in a truly despondent and wistful way. I used to enjoy coming home to my vacuous and empty apartment after work, cooking my meals for the week, recording my expenses for the day, cozying up to my little space heater in the thermal socks Imako-san gave me, freezing my fingers off hanging my wet laundry on the balcony, picking up new interests and going out with new people…Any conscious-level thoughts of my peeps were musings, passing thoughts that I accepted and smiled at as I puttered through my busy days. I would wake up every morning to vague recollections of the last night’s vivid dreams featuring my near and dear, barely aware of any emotional residue. It’s not that I was numb or that I was running from anything; I knew the situation for exactly what it is, and I decided to focus on the here and now and live to the best of my ability. That is, after all, why I came out here in the first place–to learn to push forward, to stop looking to other people to get me through. I don’t want this existence to be something I get through; I want to live it. And I don’t want to be living for anybody or anything’s sake but my own. And yet, I’m beginning to find that I’m not entirely sure that I’ve been living fully for the past few weeks–my adult students asked me today what I do when I’m not at work, and I wasn’t quite sure how to answer! A little bit of a million things but not enough of any one single thing!

In my third year of college I wrote papers about Tadao Ando for my Architectural Theory class (Japanese architect, signature concrete usage, very minimalist–as in spartan), and he happened to come up in a conversation with my friend today. Ando’s philosophy is that a stark and simplistic habitat awakens the inner/spiritual warmth of the inhabitant and, more importantly, makes people more aware of that inner warmth. I remember being greatly moved by that, and yet feeling alienated by images of his actual work (except for one really cool temple that is…just too beautiful. Much of my longing to return to Japan stems from not seeing that temple the last time I was here). At the time–really, through all of my time in studio–I yearned for architecture that could do what I now realize only living beings should do. I wanted my buildings to do what I wanted for everyone, which is reach out, cradle, nurture and then inspire and uplift. I wanted buildings to show recognition of people’s vulnerability, forgive it in them, and push them along their way. I wanted to do through my buildings what I was looking for myself. Vulnerability and a certain amount of naivete are beautiful things, but they shouldn’t be built so decisively into the human landscape, because they run the risk of becoming self-fulfilling prophecy. In any case, I couldn’t face Ando’s buildings for this reason. Today my friend was telling me that her feeling of isolation in Los Angeles had brought her to life as an individual, just as Tadao Ando’s concrete does for inhabitants, or freezing waterfalls do for zen monks (hence the whole train of thought here…). I made some remark about how in the search for themselves, some people opt for vapid surroundings and some seek all-out isolation, depending on which helps them focus inward, that they’re kind of the same thing in different flavors…etc. and then I expressed my reservations about living in such minimalist surroundings permanently. She’s right; there’s a time for that, just as for everything else. (Incidentally, this is the same friend who printed my report on said architect when I had to rush out of studio and go home for break!) That being said, this is definitely the time for me, and I think for many people of this age or at this stage in life. That ideal of living with no complications, no ties, no luxuries, and no certainty that I’ve nursed in the back of my mind since childhood and somehow became afraid of in between, grows less fearful and more enticing to me as time goes by. I don’t know what I will do after my English-teaching days and where, but it can’t be so…stable, cushy! Japan is certainly not the place to take risks, rough it, and find yourself–at least, not the way I’m doing it. Not to say that there aren’t challenges and whatnot, or that I don’t have good reasons for being where I am; just that I am really eager to face that next step. At the same time, I also find myself wanting to stay at the school and in Japan long enough to really become a good teacher and be able to contribute to the running of the school, to see all of Japan and become good enough at Japanese. I sometimes wonder about doing grad school in Japan. Don’t know how realistic it is, but I think it’s worth considering.

A sadly funny thought–even if I were in a really barebones, simple setting, I would still want to bring my inner self forth into the space, make things, paint, decorate…I would still have that need to make it my own. Detachment isn’t really my specialty, is it!

It plagues me that I am leading such a damn solipsistic lifestyle these days; it’s unfortunate that I’m never able to find middle ground in life. This move was about finding that too, but I’m realizing in some ways it might be really difficult to get out and be of use to anybody with such a–recreational job and such seemingly routine/comfortable surroundings. I think I should find out about town hall meetings or something to at least have a feeling of seeing issues arise and be solved, if nothing else! (Listening to Olive at Daybreak while blabbing about myself for hours…how perfect). But then…all this self-involvement is an accumulation from years of running from it, I think. From not really knowing how to avoid being selfish and be of use to those around me without becoming preoccupied to the point of not knowing who I am. It’s terrible; I’m stuck in this world of not really being a real person and also not really being of any true utilitarian help to anybody; and yet being more concerned with what other people do and how I can help than with helping someone through my own work/by being an efficient person myself. So I have some serious fixing to do first. And I’m beginning to hate myself for being so obsessed with this idea of being useful to people. Isn’t everybody helpful and useful to everyone else? Don’t you get to that point by first being able to handle your own affairs? What a stupid refrain to stick to without completely understanding for all of your semi-mature life.

This entry grew to be terribly boring for you and I sympathize. I promise, now that I have internet at home, to fill you in on more interesting events from the past month and be more entertaining in the future. But now that it’s morning and the sun has risen, I think I should get to bed and hope for some rest. I really miss India and the States…This multiple-home-sick monkey is heading to her warm, soft bed!

~ by samhitha on March 23, 2007.