Author: kamys

Day 22 of 30-Day Writing Challenge

This morning I missed joining The Writer’s Hour: Daily Writing Sessions.  I couldn’t get out of bed at 8am.  Now it’s noon, but I’m still in bed.

Normally I would sit in my den downstairs, looking out the window. 

I would see a pine tree.  The little sapling I got from Arboretum 20 years ago is now taller than my height. The branches are stylishly trimmed by my pruner friend. 

In the center of the tiny front yard is a maple tree with variegated leaves. When I bought it was labeled as Japanese maple, but it doesn’t have the graceful drooping silhouette. The trunk is rather straight.  My pruner always struggles with this one. 

On the boarder I planted 11 Buddha’s yew about 7 years ago.  Finally they are tall and thick enough to almost hide the yard from the side walk, giving me more privacy.

I covered the majority of the front yard with light gray gravel, imitating the sea.  The area where the maple tree is planted is considered to be an island.  I placed a stone-carved carp on the gravel.  Karesansui 枯山水 is the official term for this type of Japanese garden.  Instead of creating a real pond, the gravel represents water. 

I created it with my own sweat equity.  Without my continuous care, this space will be full of weeds.

Today I can’t see my own creation from my bedroom upstairs.  Rather, I see four chairs and a wooden table on the small balcony outside the window.  How many times did I sit in the chair this summer?  How many more summers will I sit there? 

The half of the of the view from the window is the gray sky.  Clouds with darker shade of gray are sliding from left to right.  The Olympic Mountains are completely hidden. I can only see the shoreline of Bainbridge Island beyond the Puget Sound. 

The two Douglas fir trees on the left are now more than twice the height of our neighbor’s house.  When we moved in here I could barely see the top above their roofline.  The branches on the top of the trees are swaying.  If an eagle were resting on the branch, would it get motion sickness? 

The window is now getting diagonal marks.  It has started to rain.  The rain that should help contain the wildfire.  The rain that would quench the thirst of my trees.  Today I welcome the rain. 

The island covered with green trees, sound water, mountains, the cloud, and the sky… A hundred years from now they all will still be here. But not me.  I will be gone by then. Compared to their existence, what a pity, short life I have. 

The fifth COVID vaccine shot has knocked me for a day.  Tomorrow I will be well again.  Tomorrow I will glance at these trees and the sky only for seconds before rushing downstairs, occupied by my daily chores.   Today, however, I will keep on staring out the windows, facing the truth of my brief life. 

Day 20 of 30-Day Writing Challenge

I knew that he changed his name from Akihiro Maruyama to Akihiro Miwa, but that was about all I knew about him.  He is older than my father, why would I be interested in him?

When I watched his documentary program on TV, and when I saw a photo of him about the time he had started singing in Tokyo right after World War II, I had a crash on him!

Not only his beauty, his life is full of color.

• He is a survivor of the atomic bomb in Nagasaki.
• He is the first singer song writer in Japan. 
• He never hid his LGBTQ identity.
• One of his most famous song “Yoitomake no Uta” had been banned from commercial broadcasting for a long time.
• He was a close friend of Yukio Mishima, a famous Japanese author who committed seppuku in 1970.
• His recital is always sold out.

An amazing human being.  I’m a big fan of his books, too.  Too bad his work (his music as well as books) is not well known by the world. 

Day 19 of 30-Day Writing Challenge

My first love was the Flower.

My parents never asked me if I found a boyfriend at school.  Dating at such a young age was a foreign concept for them.  So I thought, until my eight grade.

I don’t remember exactly when it started.  I found my cheeks getting hot whenever he walked by me.  My girlfriend asked me what was wrong.  I said nothing.  Since then I had to work hard so that nobody would find the connection between my cheeks and my behavior with him.  In the recess, lunch time, after school… my eyes were always looking for him, but secretly.

Our math teacher had an open-door policy.  After class several of us students would gather in his room, asking him for hints to solve math problems.  He was the best student in math, and always in that group.  Just because I wanted to be around him, I subscribed to the same math problem books and tried my best, although many of the problems were way beyond my head. 

In Japan Valentine’s Day is hijacked by chocolate makers.  On that day a girl can express her love openly to the boys by giving chocolates.  Which girl gave which boy chocolates was a big thing in the class.  I made sure to give not only him but several of my “boy” classmates, to express our “friendship,” not a special affection toward only one person.

Such secret love lasted until we graduated from high school.

My bittersweet puppy love.   While I’m writing this, tears come out!

Six hundred years ago a famous Noh-play actor and playwright Zeami wrote in his book, “If it is hidden, it is the Flower.” Yes, that was my first love.    

Day 18 of 30-Day Writing Challenge

1. My life started by cheating my birthday by one day.
2. Two of my birthdays (one in family registration and the real one) are in different day, month, and year.
3. I’m the first child for my parents.
4. My parents didn’t put too much thought about my name.  My mother once told me that my father named me after his first love.  I have never confirmed with my father on this.
5. If I had not been born in another hour, the doctor would have given up on me to save my mother’s life.
6. I was born a normal size, but in three months I was way bigger than normal child.
7. When my father took me to a toy store to buy me a doll, the store clerk asked my father why he was a doll for a boy.  I cried.
8. In my neighborhood there used to be a TV repairer who replaced the burned vacuum tubes in the TV.
9. The shop owner used to give me 10 yen as stipend whenever I came shopping for my mother. 
10. Our first dog, named John, didn’t have any teeth.  I still wonder why.
11. John was once missing for a whole week.  When he came back his body was covered with mud.  I washed away all the mud for him.  He looked happy to see me again.
12. I used to love watching Godzilla movies. A small movie theater was within walking distance.  Or my mother used to take me to the theater by riding public bus.  At that time the subway station was not built in our neighborhood yet.     
13. I was the tallest in the class until my fifth grade, among all the boys and girls.
14. There was an earthquake on the first day at my elementary school.
15. I was able to swim 50m in free style in the second grade. I had to swim twice because my teacher didn’t believe it at first.
16. In my elementary school we all watched an animation movie about a rice ghost.  A boy used to leave so much rice in the bowl.  After being scolded by a rice ghost in his dream, the boy ate all the rice, without leaving even one grain. Since then we ate all the rice in the bowl.
17. Ms Izawa was my homeroom teacher in my first grade.  Every morning she would if we brought a handkerchief and tissue paper with us.  She also checked if our nails were clean.  She taught us how we can clean our nails by washing our hair thoroughly. 
18. Forward, upward circling was one of my favorite.
19. I have 17 cousins.
20. My family moved from the center of Osaka City to suburbs in my 3^rd grade.
21. In my 6^th grade two of my classmates (both were girls) surpassed me in height.  I learned humiliation for the first time.
22. I stopped growing in height in my 5^th grade, but I gained 20 pounds between my 5^th grade and 6^th grade.
23. I used to bully boys who bullied one of my girlfriends in 5^th and 6^th grade.
24. I went to Osaka Expo in 1970 so many times but never visit the US Pavilion and saw the stone on the moon.  The line was always too long and my mother never bothered to wait in line.
25. I used to take train to go to my elementary school, but often walk back home.
26. I used to walk through the field full of figs.  Some fruits were left on the trees because they were too ripe.  I would sometime take the very ripe fig from the tree and throw very close at my friend’s feet. 
27. We used to play in the old shrine on the way home from school. 
28. The elementary school building was very old.  Every day after class we were supposed to wipe the hardwood floor with wet cloth.  We sometime had a race: who would wipe the long hallway fastest from one end to the other.
29. There were three Akemis in my third grade class. 
30. I learned the piano from 3 years old until 7^th grade.  I wish I continued the practice.   

Day 17 of 30-Day Writing Challenge

Photo by Christopher Beloch on Unsplash

Today’s assignment requires a different approach from the previous ones.  In order to answer this question, I have to put my feet in somebody else’s shoes, somebody who is trying to win my heart. 

Let’s say I’m Person A.  A looks at me.  What makes A looking at me want to win my heart?

Because A is interested in me, attracted by me, get to know me.  Because A wants to take me out for dinner or drink. Or A wants to sell me something…

OK!  My suggestion to that person A.

If you want me to get to know you, or talk to you at a party, don’t bring me any drink or food.  I would rather choose myself what I like.  Rather, stand at the corner of the room, quietly, awkwardly, hesitant to mingle with people.  Chances are, I will find you and come talk to you.

If you want to take me out to a dinner, would you please choose a place that is quiet?  Preferably with no background music.  I want to enjoy our conversation without yelling at each other.  You don’t want to hurt your throat either, do you?  I have never encountered such a place so far in Seattle, so if you found one, most likely I have never been there so I would say yes. 

If you want to sell me something… Stand behind the table, put your product on the table, demonstrate how to use it.  Don’t look at me!  Keep talking in what way your product is great.  Explain who made it, how it is made, what ingredient or material is used, how long it took to make it.  Keep on talking, focus on the product.  Don’t look at me.  I might listen to your talk, from the distance at first, then come closer, watching your demonstration, listening to your sales talk, and might eventually buy.  Please don’t look at me.  Focus on your product. 

Day 16 of 30-Day Writing Challenge

Yesterday’s memorial service was beautiful.  Four of us Ikebana friends made flower arrangements.  Potteries she had made decorated the table next to the arrangements. Her wedding photos taken 60years ago stood by them.  I miss her very much.

But I miss another person who should have been there arranging flowers, or at least giving me a critique on my arrangement.  It’s been over eight years since she passed.

When I started taking Ikebana lessons, she was already there.  She was not a teacher but was in charge of administrative work of the study group.

When I obtained my teacher’s certificate, she told me to attend an “old and new board.” What board?  She was good at making me hesitant to ask any question.  I also knew she wouldn’t take “no” as an answer. 

When I went to the meeting place, I found out it was the board meeting of Ikebana International (I.I.) Seattle Chapter.  She had already written a recommendation letter for me to join the chapter.  In the group she was in charge of several committees.  Many of I.I. members had been also recruited by her, so I learned.

I joined another non-profit.  There I was a volunteer to visit local schools to help students learn about Japanese culture.  I found out she had been the longest and the most active volunteer there.   Whenever the organization had a problem finding a volunteer in the last minutes, they could count on her. 

Reliable, organized, not complaining, not gossiping, getting things done.  When she was alive, we didn’t think too much because she took care of the group so well.  Only after she was gone did we realized how much she meant to us.

For the first time I went to her house, for her memorial service.  It was pretty far from downtown Seattle.  At her funeral I learned how old she was.  Ninety years old!  I thought she was not even 80.  Until very end she commuted this long distance and continued her work as a volunteer.

Thanks to her I still enjoy being a member of I.I. In the next two years I serve as the president. 

I miss you, Lily-san.  There are so many things I wish to ask you for your advice.  You are my unsung hero.

Day 15 of 30-Day Writing Challenge

Photo by Meritt Thomas on Unsplash

I came across a documentary on YouTube, of an old man living totally alone, totally naked, in a remote island near Okinawa, for over 20 years.  The documentary was aired about 10 years ago.  At that time the old man was about 80 years old.

“Is he serious?“ was my first reaction.

How does he find food?  Does he have a house?  How does he protect from all the insects and other yukky looking creatures?  What kind of tools does he use? 

Doesn’t he get bored? Lonely? Doesn’t he miss another human?  Does he have Internet? 

How does he know if the typhoon is coming or not?  If such a huge typhoon comes, how does he protect himself from the strong wind? Doesn’t he mind getting wet in the storm?  Doesn’t he have any danger of becoming a prey of any animal? 

What happens if he can’t hunt so many days?  Or does he hunt?  Or does he only eat plant -based food?  How does he cook?  Does he have any form of fire?   Does he know how to start a fire? 

How can he live without toilet paper?  How does he maintain sanity?  What about drinking water?  Does he have a filtering system so that he doesn’t get sick? 

How does he keep track of time?  Does he keep regular routine every day?  Or does he sleep all day long because there is nothing particular to do?  How much time does he spend catching food?

After living alone so long,  does he lose any language capability?  Can he write?  How important is writing in his life?  What does he write? 

Is it true that he has nothing to read?  How can he not get bored?

If there is any island that has similar climate and situation, I would like to spend at least 24 hours living like him.  Not more than that.  Only after spending for 24 hours, I will decide if I can go on living like him or not.

Day 14 of 30-Day Writing Challenge

I’m trying to minimize the purchase of my clothes.

I still wear a T-shirt that I bought when I went to Grand Canyon for the first and only time 32 years ago.  I’ve been wearing the same jeans for over 15 years. They were brand new when I bought them, but now have holes here and there.  Thanks to the latest trend, these holes and tears are now regarded as my fashion statement.  Maybe I can keep wearing these jeans for 10 more years, assuming I keep my weight as it is.

The only exception is kimono.  I’m saving money to buy new kimono, hopefully every year. Preferably having it totally custom made.  I consult with my retailer, carefully select the craftsperson, learning about how they prepare the fabrics and what kind of skills are required to make the work of art

I refuse to buy a kimono made of synthetic fabric.  I’m well aware of its convenience.  I could throw it in the washing machine after each time I wear it.  But how much damage are we pressing upon all the other life form on earth just to satisfy the human being’s convenience?   For me, kimono is a symbol, a reminder of the importance of living in harmony with nature.  A synthetic kimono fabric, therefore, is an oxymoron to me.

When I had my summer kimono and obi made during the pandemic, I documented the whole process of how a team of craftspeople worked together to make my kimono and obi.  Hopefully that piece will be published sometime soon.  The purpose of my writing up this piece was so that whoever reads it may be interested and inspired to have his/her own kimono made like me.

For more casual occasions, I look forward to shopping vintage haori (a kimono jacket) at Kyoto Art and Antiques, a twice-a-year sale that is held in Seattle’s Georgetown neighborhood.  Mostly I choose ones with an elaborate tie-dye method called “So-shibori.”  Haori, in my opinion, go pretty well with casual wear, even jeans.

What is distinctive in both kimono and haori, is the long sleeves.  Inefficient?  Maybe.  But elegant!  Through practicing tea cermony, I realized how effective kimono is to make my movement more graceful.  With these long sleeves, I pay much more attention to how I move my arms.  “Does it look beautiful?”

“Who cares?” You might say.  But I do.  The graceful movement of my body makes me feel good.  What is wrong with it?  That’s my style.

Day 13 of 30-Day Writing Challenge

Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash

I start my day with writing a number on my journal.  Today’s number: 14,322. 

Each day the number decreases by one.  Tomorrow I will write down 14,321. 

The number is followed by DTID; Abbreviation for “days till I die”.

I wish to live a long healthy life.  I have arbitrarily chosen to live until my 100^th birthday.  Or I have chosen to die on my 100^th birthday. 

When I was born I didn’t have any choice.  When to be born, from which parents, in which country… They all happened before my consciousness was developed.

But when to die, how, where… Can’t I have maximum control? You know, I’m a control freak.

Of course, so many things happen beyond my control.  If it rains or not today, if my husband is in a good mood or not, if the bus is running on the normal schedule or not.  But death… such an important event of my life.  Unless I’m hit by a car suddenly (and what is the probability of that?), can’t I have the final say to my life? 

I’m not talking about suicide.  That’s cutting off short.  No. I have every intention to complete my life.  My intention is I want to be on a driver’s seat until the last moment of my life.  Even if I become gravely ill, at least I want my consciousness to be in control to the end.  What is the proof that I can’t? 

Till the moment I die, I want to live. My life is getting shorter by one day every day.  While writing this number each morning, I ask myself:  Do I choose to live this day in vain, or fully.

Soon after finishing this book, I started this morning ritual.   Its title is

Death; An Inside Story: A Book for all those who shall die   by Sadhguru

It’s not my favorite book, but it has transformed my approach to life entirely.