Sometimes we feel excluded. People do not
remember our admissions or desires. They build bonds with others and you start
to feel like friendship or love is part of a zero-sum game. You know
intuitively (or at least you try) that love is boundless and infinite so it
should not be diminished if increased for another. But, alas, our time is not
boundless or infinite. And so we get caught up in this race or competition for
time. We get to thinking that everything needs to happen this moment and it
needs to involve you. You are missing out on time to build deeper bonds, to
create stronger connections, to make meaningful change.
I felt like this a few weeks ago, one
afternoon, and I got angry. I felt excluded, overwhelmed, and unknown. It was
my night to cook so I went out to buy some food and take a needed walk. On my
way toward Yoshie (food mart), I was over thinking everything and totally
inside my head so on the way back I decided to go to a former JV’s “secret
spot”. It is this ledge behind the Drops of Life Water Supply place that
overlooks the lagoon and is stunning. It had been drizzling a bit and when I
turned the corner around the building I was met with a breath-taking sight: a
vibrant full rainbow. I saw the
entire arc, end to end, ascending out of the lagoon and then cascading back in.
As soon as I beheld it I gasped…and teared up a bit. This flood of relief
washed over me and I realized how much I needed to be reminded of awe and
wonderment, of where I was, what I was doing, and who I am. It also reminded me
to pause and not to jump to conclusions about others; my community-mates
probably had no idea how I felt. I just had to smile.
I recognized something else with the help of
that rainbow too. On the right side behind the rainbow were grey and dismal,
dare I say ominous clouds. The sky looked miserable. But if I just turned my
head 90 degrees I saw bright blue skies with white puffy clouds and sparkling
lagoon waters. The rainbow was incredible in both conditions…but it was the
most vibrant against the grey skies, they drew out its true beauty and
potential. It reminded me of life and how we need both blue and grey skies.
It’s a balance and a dance. Sometimes the greatest goods or beauty shines
through the miserable struggles.
I skyped with my Program Coordinator(PC), for
the first time, a few days ago and she asked me about something that I had said
at orientation that had stuck with her. At orientation we talked a lot about
the stages of culture shock and the first stage is known as the “honeymoon
stage”. It is characterized by how great and new and amazing everything seems.
You comment about all of the amazing opportunities and beauty you see around
you. It is known for being unrealistic and inauthentic. I commented to my PC
that I kind of felt like my whole life has been in the “honeymoon stage”. I
have always been very happy and smiley and (probably) annoyingly optimistic. I
have been described as a “beacon of shining light”. I do not consider it a bad
thing or unrealistic or inauthentic. But the rainbow gave me a better way to
describe my lifelong “honeymoon stage”.
It is not that I never get sad or frustrated. I
get upset and angry; I actually feel each of my emotions super strongly and
totally get inside my head and over think loads of things. But then I always go
back to being happy (usually pretty quickly); my rainbow shines out from my
dark dreary moments and I am back to blissful old me. I do not hold on to the
misery for long. Maybe that means I will never be able to truly understand someone
else’s constant pain or suffering, and thus will not be able to truly share
their burden. But maybe I am not supposed to. Maybe I’m supposed to sneak the joy
back in, share it through my very being and nothing else. This trait that
defines me allows me to try to see the beauty in everything and everyone around
me and if I am angry I can sit back, gaze at the first complete rainbow I have
ever seen and smile.
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