Category: Nature and Life

We’ve seen it again in this disaster

On New Year’s Day, people’s celebratory mood was shattered in Japan.  Every time I watched the news on TV, the death toll was increasing.   NHK and other networks as well as YouTube videos showed horrible scenes. 

Watching these videos at home, all I could feel was helpfulness.  Nature doesn’t care if it’s New Year’s Day or not.  It doesn’t care if the city has a long history of impeccable Urushi lacquerware making.  It doesn’t care how many of the family members lost their lives.

No matter how far we humans have come to establish more convenient, comfortable lives over the millennium, one shake of the ground can destroy all that we have built.  We humans are powerless.

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But one Facebook post by Takashi Wakamiya, who leads a group of Urushi lacquer craftspeople in Wajima, the city almost flattened by the earthquake, has given me power. 

However, even in these tough circumstances, I believe that artisans will try their best to respond to any work orders they receive.

At Hikoju Makie, we want to provide work to these artisans before they lose their spirit in the aftermath of the earthquake, hoping to connect them to a future of hope.

Even though somebody loses everything in a disaster such as an earthquake, as long as s/he has hope, s/he can restart, and rebuild, from nothing.  Hope in his/her heart has no physical element itself, but it is the source of power to create something. 

Japan has encountered numerous natural disasters in its long history.  Wakamiya-san’s message has reminded me of the power of hope, that my ancestors have always resorted after each disaster. 

Let me believe that I also have that power in me. 

Is there any similarity between the two?

It’s an early Saturday morning. Raining.  Is it mist or cloud covering the sky?  My husband is still in bed.  I go downstairs, pick up a dry mop, and start sweeping the hardwood floor in the living room. 

Although the floor looks clean, after several trips back and forth between the walls, the mop collects cotton-like dust, strings of long hair, and other small particles (breadcrumb?).

It’s my weekly chore, for sure, but I kind of like this monotonous movement of my body. 

No matter how thoroughly I sweep today, the floor will be filled with the yucky-looking things again.  Is cleaning, like sweeping the floor, such a hopeless action with little value added to one’s life?  Then why do I like it?  Why do I refuse to hire somebody to do this chore for me?

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“Life decreases or keeps constant its entropy by feeding on negative entropy.”  This is a concept introduced by Nobel-laureate physicist Erwin Schrödinger in his 1944 book “What is Life.”   

When I heard this sentence on a podcast, I found out why I like sweeping the floor.

Cleaning is an act of decreasing entropy.  It’s an analogy of life. By cleaning, I must have been experiencing what it means to live. 

In response to Dancing Elephants Press Prompt week 51/52

“What is your name?” “My name is Akemi.”

In Japanese, however, the question doesn’t end there.  Always there is a second question: “How is your name written?” 

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The Japanese input method editor I use on my computer lists the following different combinations for a name “Akemi.”

明美, 昭美, 朱美, 暁美, 曙覧, 朱海, 明見, 曙美, 朱実, 明海, 曙海, 朱見…

The list is not exhausted, but is only of examples of how “Akemi” is commonly written.   　

That’s because there are many Kanji characters with different meanings that are pronounced the same way.  Depending upon which Kanji character is used, the meaning of the name is different.

Let’s break down my name… It’s Ake + Mi.  The first part has one Kanji character, and the second has another. 

Ake 明 … This character means bright.

Mi 美… This character means beautiful.

Yes, my name literally means “bright and beautiful.”

Although my name was not that unusual, whenever I was asked to explain how my name is writen in Kanji characters.  I always had to answer with sarcasm.  Who would introduce oneself as “I’m bright and beautiful?”

Do I live up to my name?  I don’t know.  But at least I’m assured that my parents had some kind of expectation of me… 

In response to Dancing Elephants prompt 49 of 52

In the US, the first Monday in September is Labor Day.  Everybody enjoys the three-day weekend.  My husband flew to New York City to spend time with his college friends.

Alone at home, I picked two pairs of pants.  Both of them had a tear on the left knee.

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In the past weeks, I have gone shopping, searching for new pairs.  I couldn’t find anything I liked.  Nothing was the right style, the right color, or the right texture.  Maybe I was hoping to find exactly the same kind as the torn pants, which were already out of fashion a long time ago. 

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Alone at home, I picked two pairs of pants.  Both of them had a tear on the left knee.

I have no idea why only on the left knee, but the tear clearly indicated how much I liked to wear them. 

Left alone at home on the Labor Day weekend, I picked up the torn pants, thread, and needle, and started stitching.  Did I know how to do it?  Not quite, but there were more than enough YouTube videos instructing where to start, what to do, and how to do it. 

The only colors of the tread I had were black and white, so I chose black for my jeans and white for the other pair. 

For several hours, I simply stitched.  I zoomed in so close that I could see how each warp and weft were woven on top of each other.  I even counted how many threads of weft I should skip before poking the needle for the next stitch.

The outcome may not look appealing, but I don’t care.  With my labor of love, these pants have been resurrected.  Instead of being trashed, both pants will continue to give me protection and comfort for several more years.

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From now on, when everybody else celebrates Labor Day, I will celebrate my own Sustainability Day!

A wonder of nature

Though I’ve been to Ballard Locks so many times, I have never seen as many large King Salmon swimming through the fish ladder as this summer!

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Whenever we have guests from out of state, we take them to Ballard Locks.  Why?  There are a couple of reasons.  First, it’s only about a mile from our house.  We don’t have to worry much about the notorious Seattle traffic.  Second, it’s visually entertaining.  Many boats move up and down while being locked in the canal, after they sail in and before they sail out, between the seawater in Puget Sound and the fresh water in Lake Union. 

My husband, being an engineer, is eager to show the guests how the locks work to accommodate the different water levels between the seaside and the freshwater side.  The greatness of civil engineering; the ingenuity of human beings, is the highlight in his views. 

What awes me more, however, is salmon, this natural creature!

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They were born in the hatchery upstream, miles away from here.  When they were tiny smolts, they swam from the lake, through this fish ladder, which was built alongside the locks,  to Puget Sound, and to the vast ocean. 

After living in the vast ocean, now with such a large body, they make a long journey back to where they were born.  They trace back to the same route that they took when young, with no GPS or map.  Once they reach their birthplace, the females lay eggs and the males fertilize them, and they all die shortly after that.

Salmon have been doing this for many millennia.  A century ago humans altered the journey routes with this concrete ladder.  A century from now, who knows if human beings will be still maintaining this “engineering wonder.”  But I’m sure that salmon will be continuing this journey.  The route might be altered again, but they will somehow figure out the way.

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It’s kind of an irony, but in this man-made window, I see the majestic power of nature.  Go salmon!

In response to Dancing Elephants Press prompt week 46 of 52 — Positive Impact

I have two Moms, one in Japan and one in the US. 

The one in Japan is my biological mother who gave me birth.  The one in the US is my host mother when I was an exchange student in the US for a year. 

Both Moms have taught me the most important lessons in life.

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My mother in Japan taught me to think by myself, to be independent, not to rely on anybody else. 

I was in the first grade then.  One day I asked my mother one of the questions I was to answer in my homework.  She gave me the answer, and I wrote it down as she said. 

The next day at school, I found out the answer was wrong.  Furious and shameful, I swore to myself that I would never ask my mother to help me do my homework again.  Nor would I depend on anybody for any answer blindly. 

If I thought it through, came up with the answer, and turned out to be wrong, I could take full responsibility for the outcome.  But the answer was not mine, but somebody else’s.  I just couldn’t take that humility. 

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My mother in the US taught me that there is more than one yardstick to evaluate myself, and I can define my own yardstick.

I was 16, just arrived in the US from Japan as an exchange student.  One day my host mother mentioned a girl as being smart, although she was not good at math. 

A student can be smart although not good at math? The concept was totally foreign to me.  In Japan, a student was not considered as “smart” unless s/he was good at math and all the other subjects. 

That’s when I learned that there is more than one yardstick to evaluate a person.  Or ultimately, I can create my own yardstick to evaluate myself. 

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Two important lessons that positively, profoundly impacted my life, one from each Mom.    

Dancing Elephants Press Prompt week 43 of 52 — The color of my life

Out of all the colors surrounding me, which color dominates my vision?  Blue, by far!

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When I look up, the vast sky is filled with blue.  When I look down the cliff, the calm water surface of the sea is filled with blue color.

For me, blue is the color that best depicts my life.  It’s the most soothing color, which gives me balance, happiness, joy, and hope.  For me, blue is the color that I wish to fill my life with as much as possible!

Yes, the burning orange of the sunset is beautiful, but we appreciate that color because it fills our vision only for a short moment.   Imagine how different the world would look like if the sky and the ocean were filled with bloody red all the time.

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Since this color is so dominant in our living environment, what good would it be if all living creatures were depressed or adversely affected by this dominant color?

I believe that I was born to love blue.  I believe I’ve been programmed to feel good when I look at this color as a living creature. 

In response to Dancing Elephants Press Prompt 42 of 52

vivi14216によるPixabayからの画像

Here is a list of places/ countries I wish to visit:

• Yellow Stone
• Israel
• Istanbul
• Casablanca
• Sidney
• New Zealand

Here is a list of things I wish to experience:

• Horseback riding
• Scuba diving
• Hang riding
• Sailing through South Pacific
• Driving across the continent from Seattle to Boston via I-90
• Driving along East Coast from Portland, Main to Miami, Florida

But, do you know my ultimate wish list is?

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To encounter what I have never even imagined to wish for!

Because the world is way larger and greater than what I can wish for with my limited knowledge and experience…

In response to Dancing Elephants Press Prompt week 40 of 52 — Love

My mother turned 85, and my cousin’s family celebrated her birthday while I was sound asleep.

That’s because I live Ocean’s away from my mom and there is 16 hours of time difference between us.

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My cousin chose a day when everybody in her family (her husband, her children, and her son-in-law) was free from work.  Before taking my mother to dinner, she and her family decorated their living room with balloons. 

It has become customary for my cousin to take my mother for lunch or dinner once a month, so my mother had no second thoughts when my cousin suggested they stop by my cousin’s house for tea after the meal. 

Then my mother saw the sea of balloons, even the number “85” displayed in the living room!

It was my mother’s first surprise birthday party.

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I had never celebrated my mother’s birthday before.  The only thing I could do in the last 29 years since I moved to the US was to call her on the phone or send her a short text message. 

My cousin lives only a 15-minute drive away from my mother.  Everyone in her family loves my mother and treats her as their own mother.  Maybe 100 times more love than my love for my mother.

All I can do is fill my heart with gratitude and lots of love for my cousin and her family.

Thank you so much, Eri-chan.

A hike in this sacred mountain in Kyoto gave me magical power

The folklore says that Tengu lives in Mt. Kurama.  I didn’t see it, but I definitely felt its magical power when I hiked in the mountain.

Mt. Kurama is located in the north part of Kyoto City.  It takes about 45 minutes from the city center by train.  I was planning to simply visit the temple with a friend of mine from Tokyo.  Due to the typhoon, the Shinkansen (bullet train) stopped, she didn’t arrive in Kyoto until later in the evening.  Left alone, with the beautiful weather with typhoon already passed, I decided to take a hike from Kurama to Kifune.

I was previously told that the route from Kurama to Kifune is an easy, flat, an hour-long hike.  Dead wrong!  Especially for me who haven’t done even much walking lately.  The trail was either steep uphill or downhill steps.  No flat path. 

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So many times I almost gave up moving forward one more step.  But whenever I felt hopeless, fresh breeze came.  The branches of the tall trees swayed, making gentle sounds.  As if the wind was pushing me gently on my back, I made another stride.

Fudodo 不動堂: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa

After reaching Fudodo, the path became downhill, till I finally heard the stream of Kifune River.  An hour-long hike ended up about two and a half hour.  My right calf was aching.  My left hip was aching.  Walking along the river, I felt exhausted.

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The destination was a restaurant called Sagenta 左源太.  The owner and a friend of mine was waiting for me at 2 pm.  I barely made it.

The eating place was literally above the river.  In the summer time, the restaurants in Kibune spread the platform above the river so that the guest can enjoy the meals while feeling the cool breeze.  It’s a great escape from the scorching heat and humidity felt in the city of Kyoto. 

The bento box lunch with a fresh grilled Ayu fish was divine.  By the time I said thank you and goodbye to my friend, the fatigue of my body was completely gone!  I regained so much energy that I felt I could go back hiking the same route that I had barely made it (well, I didn’t). 

My friend said, “There must be a reason for you to come here, hiking, alone.  You may call it serendepity.  The Mountain has chosen you today.” 

I totally believe that.  I simply bow down to Mt. Kurama and Kifune River.