For some reason, this quote gives me a lot of trouble. Just in case you breezed over my title, I'll repeat the famous line from Thelma & Louise:
You get what you settle for.
Or, for the English critics, "You get that for which you settle." Yes, I am aware of the preposition rule.
I saw this on a Maxwell friend's profile about 4 months ago, and it's been nagging me ever since. Why? I have tried to live my whole life knowing full and well why I do the things I do, going for what I really want, and never settling for anything. Living like this does not come without consequences (people saying you're too picky, too uptight, or you struggle to maintain a balance between achievement and contentment, etc.) But perhaps I just hit the nail on the head: the balance between achievement and contentment is something I've been trying to figure out ever since a great conversation in Norway about 3 years ago. I can't see where my life is going. I believe that, at this point, I can still make it anything I want. I am happy with where my life has been...but I am no closer to answering this question than I was before.
I think Thelma and Louise got to me because I can feel myself sliding more and more into the contentment side of things. If you're happy with the way things are, you stop striving for so much. I can't decide if this is good or bad. It also makes me feel like I'm getting older. I remember learning in my Developmental Psych class that the older people get, the more content they become with the way things are. They come to accept their decisions and their places in life, and they stop worrying so much about "getting somewhere" else. But should I allow myself to fall into that comfort mode so soon? I think not! But it's starting to happen! Help!
Or, should I just be happy about it, and let it all go? Go with the flow, go where the wind takes me, what happens happens, and I'll be content with whatever.
As much as I agree with Buddhism, this is the snag that gets me every time: if you're content NOW, there's no reason to IMPROVE. Which side of this coin is more important? The obvious answer is, "Well both, of course. You have to find a balance." But that's taking the easy way out. Right now, I AM LIVING the balance...yet this question is still bothering me after 3 years.
I want to shout, "Settling is bad! Keep going! Always strive for the absolute best!"
But are those really my own thoughts, or someone else's?
Goethe said, "When you trust yourself, you will know how to live."
But if your self is telling you two different, diametrically opposed things...you're stuck.
Who was Goethe, anyway?
31 October 2005
30 October 2005
A Morning in the Life, Part 2
Earlier, I wrote a post about my typical weekday morning. I'd like to add one thing:
When I get to school, the first thing I see is a circle of construction workers. (The gym is under repair to better withstand earthquakes.) Every morning at 8 am the construction men--decked out in hard hats and knickers that date back a few centures--stand in a circle to stretch, bend, and pliee (sp?) their way to flexibility for a productive day of gym repair. Because they all stretch in unison to an obvious count, it looks like ballet class. A ballet class of Japanese men in hard hats and knickers.
When I get to school, the first thing I see is a circle of construction workers. (The gym is under repair to better withstand earthquakes.) Every morning at 8 am the construction men--decked out in hard hats and knickers that date back a few centures--stand in a circle to stretch, bend, and pliee (sp?) their way to flexibility for a productive day of gym repair. Because they all stretch in unison to an obvious count, it looks like ballet class. A ballet class of Japanese men in hard hats and knickers.
28 October 2005
Quote
The President of the United States of America, on the war in Iraq, as quoted in The Japan Times:
"Each loss of life is heartbreaking."
Each loss of life is heartbreaking?
How dare he.
"Each loss of life is heartbreaking."
Each loss of life is heartbreaking?
How dare he.
24 October 2005
Fuji Crew
Soccer
I'm beginning to think that "mandatory for young, single people" is really code for "let's see how many unusual situations we can throw Lauren (and sometimes Mayumi) into." Then they stand around cheering for us and observing our reactions.
Nobody told me the teacher soccer teams were mainly MEN. Mayumi and I were the only women on the field. And we subbed for each other, so we were never playing at the same time. The whole second half, I was the only woman out there, and of course the only foreigner at the school. When Mayumi handed over her jersey, she said, "They're afraid of offending women, so when the ball comes to you, they won't get close." She was right. I did manage to get my foot on the ball a couple times, but that's as far as my ten-year-rusty soccer skills would take me tonight. But have no doubt, I had an absolute blast. All the teachers, including the prinicipal and vice-principal, plus the guys' baseball team, and the guys' soccer team, were cheering for us. It was embarrassing, yes, especially when the baseball team kept yelling something at me that I couldn't understand. And we lost 0 - 3. But nobody really cares -- they're just happy to be out there participating. And that is what makes me happy, too.
I think Maxwell House--if not my high school tennis team--was a good introduction to be part of a group. Maxwell was close, but other than party preparations, there was not much group effort or codependence. The goal was mainly to have fun together, which fostered a group mentality, but only to a certain extent. It goes way beyond that in Japan. Unless you never participate in school activities (which some ALTs choose to do) you are immediately expected to be part of the group. And the more you get involved, the more you get involved. (There's an away soccer game next Monday! I'm going!)
I'm so used to working and doing and pursuing on my own -- granted, I do everything with the support of many loving people, and for that I am grateful. But in the ultimate moments, I am alone. I am American. I'm strong. Hence, I'm independent, and "alone" is a good thing. But not in Japan. If you make an initial, genuine effort to get involved, Japan offers a positive group mentality that I've never experienced--and don't think I could ever experience--in the United States. Now, this does not mean I know everyone well, or that everyone is my friend. That is certainly not the case. At first, I even felt smothered by this system. If you spend all day at work with the same people, why would you want to socialize with them after hours? Don't you need to get away? But I tried to supress that reaction (which I blame on American culture, if not my own ideals) and just go with the flow. These are your people, and you chose to come here, so fall in line with everyone else. When in Rome... And as you gradually get used to it, and start to understand things a tiny bit more, you come to appreciate it so much. I am accorded a certain amount of respect for showing up and participating, which I am in turn expected to show others. And because I do make an effort to show others that respect, I feel like I have a purpose. There is an understanding that everyone needs, and therefore helps, everyone else. Some of my closer friends have told me that I'm lucky, because the people at my school are friendlier than most. And I think this is true, but if you look for this anywhere in Japan, you'd know what I'm talking about.
I guess being the foreign girl, I get lucky with both sides of the coin -- I get the benefits of the group, but because I stand out so much, I also get individual attention that is really undeserved, but given to me anyway.
And then I get to come home to my own apartment, and be truly alone, for the first time in 12 hours. And I can't help but think of everyone in the States, the people who love me even though I am all the way over here. For right now, I don't know how else to give anyone a part of this, or share it, except to write this silly blog, and send ridiculous emails, and hope they make you happy.
How lucky we are to be where we are. Take care.
Nobody told me the teacher soccer teams were mainly MEN. Mayumi and I were the only women on the field. And we subbed for each other, so we were never playing at the same time. The whole second half, I was the only woman out there, and of course the only foreigner at the school. When Mayumi handed over her jersey, she said, "They're afraid of offending women, so when the ball comes to you, they won't get close." She was right. I did manage to get my foot on the ball a couple times, but that's as far as my ten-year-rusty soccer skills would take me tonight. But have no doubt, I had an absolute blast. All the teachers, including the prinicipal and vice-principal, plus the guys' baseball team, and the guys' soccer team, were cheering for us. It was embarrassing, yes, especially when the baseball team kept yelling something at me that I couldn't understand. And we lost 0 - 3. But nobody really cares -- they're just happy to be out there participating. And that is what makes me happy, too.
I think Maxwell House--if not my high school tennis team--was a good introduction to be part of a group. Maxwell was close, but other than party preparations, there was not much group effort or codependence. The goal was mainly to have fun together, which fostered a group mentality, but only to a certain extent. It goes way beyond that in Japan. Unless you never participate in school activities (which some ALTs choose to do) you are immediately expected to be part of the group. And the more you get involved, the more you get involved. (There's an away soccer game next Monday! I'm going!)
I'm so used to working and doing and pursuing on my own -- granted, I do everything with the support of many loving people, and for that I am grateful. But in the ultimate moments, I am alone. I am American. I'm strong. Hence, I'm independent, and "alone" is a good thing. But not in Japan. If you make an initial, genuine effort to get involved, Japan offers a positive group mentality that I've never experienced--and don't think I could ever experience--in the United States. Now, this does not mean I know everyone well, or that everyone is my friend. That is certainly not the case. At first, I even felt smothered by this system. If you spend all day at work with the same people, why would you want to socialize with them after hours? Don't you need to get away? But I tried to supress that reaction (which I blame on American culture, if not my own ideals) and just go with the flow. These are your people, and you chose to come here, so fall in line with everyone else. When in Rome... And as you gradually get used to it, and start to understand things a tiny bit more, you come to appreciate it so much. I am accorded a certain amount of respect for showing up and participating, which I am in turn expected to show others. And because I do make an effort to show others that respect, I feel like I have a purpose. There is an understanding that everyone needs, and therefore helps, everyone else. Some of my closer friends have told me that I'm lucky, because the people at my school are friendlier than most. And I think this is true, but if you look for this anywhere in Japan, you'd know what I'm talking about.
I guess being the foreign girl, I get lucky with both sides of the coin -- I get the benefits of the group, but because I stand out so much, I also get individual attention that is really undeserved, but given to me anyway.
And then I get to come home to my own apartment, and be truly alone, for the first time in 12 hours. And I can't help but think of everyone in the States, the people who love me even though I am all the way over here. For right now, I don't know how else to give anyone a part of this, or share it, except to write this silly blog, and send ridiculous emails, and hope they make you happy.
How lucky we are to be where we are. Take care.
Japanese "Fun & Games"
On Sunday morning I participated in the "mandatory" seasonal apartment weeding. Mom and Dad, you'd be thrilled! I was bent over hacking on endless weeds for 3 hours. But it wasn't that bad, because I met two new people in my apartment complex, and everyone else I already knew from school. So I was able to chat through the hacking and those 3 hours (from 8 am to 11 am) really felt like 2. I spent the rest of the day lounging around in the sun and staring at the snow atop Mt. Fuji. Funny how Sunday can end up being lazy no matter where you are.
And today, there's a teacher soccer match against another high school. I don't play soccer, but participation is "mandatory" for young, single people. So after I help carry out gallons of hot tea and miso soup, I'll be kicking a ball for the first time in, oh...10 years. Damn I'm old. :) It's pitch black and freezing outside, but I'm excited anyway.
Last time I played soccer I was in braces. Maybe tonight my lips will stay in one piece.
And today, there's a teacher soccer match against another high school. I don't play soccer, but participation is "mandatory" for young, single people. So after I help carry out gallons of hot tea and miso soup, I'll be kicking a ball for the first time in, oh...10 years. Damn I'm old. :) It's pitch black and freezing outside, but I'm excited anyway.
Last time I played soccer I was in braces. Maybe tonight my lips will stay in one piece.
22 October 2005
Beautiful
A wave in the sea, seen one way, seems to have a distinct identity, an end and a beginning, a birth and a death. Seen in another way, the wave itself doesn't really exist, but is just the behavior of the water, "empty" of any separate identity but "full" of water. So when you really think about a wave, you come to realize that it is something made temporarily possible by wind and water, and is dependent on a set of constantly changing circumstances. You also realize that every wave is related to every other wave.
-- Sogyal Rinpoche
-- Sogyal Rinpoche
20 October 2005
The Language of Love
You may have heard the beginning before, but please -- keep reading til the end.
Yesterday a guy friend IMed me with the greeting, "I will never understand the female mind." And to this I replied, "Honestly, me neither." I tried to help him, but who knows if any real progress was made.
The American guy here and I fight all the time -- more than I've ever fought with anyone. It's ridiculous and the "discussion" is always the same. It begins:
"Wow she's hot" or "You look good in that" or "Why don't you drink some more alcohol?" or (so classy), "There's my baby's mamma."
Then, I respond with something resembling the following: "Could you save those comments for your guy friends? I'm not a guy. You sound so chauvinistic."
He says, "I'm not chauvinistic. You're a femme-nazi."
She says, "All you look for in a woman is her body. I feel like you don't respect me at all. And if by pointing that out, I become a femme-nazi, that just proves my point even further. Let's not hang out anymore."
He says, "Fine."
And I feel relieved and happy for a little bit.
Until we start hanging out again.
Real mature, I know, but it goes on and on like this, again and again. Finally tonight I said,
"If there's something you want to tell me directly, then say it. Get it off your chest. I'm tired of this pent-up hostility and I'm tired of arguing with you. What's the problem?"
Guy responds with muddy words (so this is not a direct quote), "You accuse me of things when you don't really understand. I'm not chauvinistic. But I like you and you don't like me back. So how do you expect me to act around you?"
Me: What? Like me? What are you talking about? If I don't want to date you, that means you should pare all women down to their boobs? And anyway, at what point in your ramblings about how hot other women are was I supposed to know you like me? You brag about how you have more romance in your pinkie than most men have in their entire bodies -- but trust you, you haven't worked your magic in Japan because nobody has been worthy of your sparks -- where in this was I supposed to realize or understand or guess that you liked me? Or that you were ever trying to show that you liked me? And why on earth do you like me if we're always fighting about such fundamental ideas?
I think all this, but I say only, "I don't understand what you want."
He says, "I guess I don't either."
And so it goes.
A friend of mine in college studied abroad in South America. One day, he sent an email declaring his love for a Chilean girlfriend. Funny thing was, they could barely speak because of the language barrier, and he was the first to admit it! At the time, I laughed at him. "He thinks he loves some girl he can't even hold a conversation with." But really, how much better do I understand a guy because we can talk to each other? Most likely, the level of communication stays the same, regardless of who is saying what and how. Guy will always speak "guy," and girl will always speak "girl," and this talking at each other will be labeled "communication."
Even if you can both write in Kanji, you probably can't speak the same language. Suddenly the term "language barrier," at least in matters of the heart, doesn't mean much to me anymore. People think English is hard because there are many exceptions to the rules. But love doesn't have any rules -- there's no foundation from which to deviate.
I think I'll be alright with Japanese.
Yesterday a guy friend IMed me with the greeting, "I will never understand the female mind." And to this I replied, "Honestly, me neither." I tried to help him, but who knows if any real progress was made.
The American guy here and I fight all the time -- more than I've ever fought with anyone. It's ridiculous and the "discussion" is always the same. It begins:
"Wow she's hot" or "You look good in that" or "Why don't you drink some more alcohol?" or (so classy), "There's my baby's mamma."
Then, I respond with something resembling the following: "Could you save those comments for your guy friends? I'm not a guy. You sound so chauvinistic."
He says, "I'm not chauvinistic. You're a femme-nazi."
She says, "All you look for in a woman is her body. I feel like you don't respect me at all. And if by pointing that out, I become a femme-nazi, that just proves my point even further. Let's not hang out anymore."
He says, "Fine."
And I feel relieved and happy for a little bit.
Until we start hanging out again.
Real mature, I know, but it goes on and on like this, again and again. Finally tonight I said,
"If there's something you want to tell me directly, then say it. Get it off your chest. I'm tired of this pent-up hostility and I'm tired of arguing with you. What's the problem?"
Guy responds with muddy words (so this is not a direct quote), "You accuse me of things when you don't really understand. I'm not chauvinistic. But I like you and you don't like me back. So how do you expect me to act around you?"
Me: What? Like me? What are you talking about? If I don't want to date you, that means you should pare all women down to their boobs? And anyway, at what point in your ramblings about how hot other women are was I supposed to know you like me? You brag about how you have more romance in your pinkie than most men have in their entire bodies -- but trust you, you haven't worked your magic in Japan because nobody has been worthy of your sparks -- where in this was I supposed to realize or understand or guess that you liked me? Or that you were ever trying to show that you liked me? And why on earth do you like me if we're always fighting about such fundamental ideas?
I think all this, but I say only, "I don't understand what you want."
He says, "I guess I don't either."
And so it goes.
A friend of mine in college studied abroad in South America. One day, he sent an email declaring his love for a Chilean girlfriend. Funny thing was, they could barely speak because of the language barrier, and he was the first to admit it! At the time, I laughed at him. "He thinks he loves some girl he can't even hold a conversation with." But really, how much better do I understand a guy because we can talk to each other? Most likely, the level of communication stays the same, regardless of who is saying what and how. Guy will always speak "guy," and girl will always speak "girl," and this talking at each other will be labeled "communication."
Even if you can both write in Kanji, you probably can't speak the same language. Suddenly the term "language barrier," at least in matters of the heart, doesn't mean much to me anymore. People think English is hard because there are many exceptions to the rules. But love doesn't have any rules -- there's no foundation from which to deviate.
I think I'll be alright with Japanese.
17 October 2005
Yamanashi / Nagano
We were supposed to go hiking, but it was pouring on the trail...so we drove through to Nagano for a picnic and temple visit instead. Pic details: The smoke cures sickness and brings good health when it touches your head. Families celebrate when girls turn 3 and 7, and when boys turn 5 (I think that's right). Ice cream, however, is for all ages...and check out those dogs walking themselves!
15 October 2005
Cafe Break
Curious "weak coffee" on the menu...also called "American coffee." Hah!
And a curiously tiny serving of cream. Just like Japan to like it small.
Geisha Photo
This is the second geisha I saw in Kyoto. That time, I could think fast enough to whip out my camera. Notice how she's about to disappear, and how the picture is blurry -- but a fuzzy pic is the only kind that does a geisha justice.
Dork
Today I received the first book for my Japanese (language) course in the mail, and I was ecstatic. It's ridiculous how excited I was about a textbook. All the time, I think about how nice it is that I'm no longer in school. No homework, no exams...yet I find myself still wanting to do all these school-related things: read, write, post blogs 9 times a week, and study language. As if, deep down, I still want to be in school.
What does this say about my future? I have no idea. Just don't tell anyone, okay?
Today, I tried explaining the terms "dork" and "nerd" to a fellow teacher. I described a smart, antisocial, skinny guy with over-size glasses and a pocket protector.
"Ohhhh," she laughed, "there's one in every class."
"Yeah," I agreed.
The truth is, there are at least two dorks in every class. But only one of them is a skinny guy with a pocket protector.
What does this say about my future? I have no idea. Just don't tell anyone, okay?
Today, I tried explaining the terms "dork" and "nerd" to a fellow teacher. I described a smart, antisocial, skinny guy with over-size glasses and a pocket protector.
"Ohhhh," she laughed, "there's one in every class."
"Yeah," I agreed.
The truth is, there are at least two dorks in every class. But only one of them is a skinny guy with a pocket protector.
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