I woke this morning at 4:26AM with the distinct feeling that
it was September. I have been waiting for you, September. I'm glad, very, very
glad to see you.
The summer was hard. It was a hard summer. I can say that now that it's over.
The bits of it that were hard are not over--they continue on. But the change in
weather and new number, closer to the end, makes me optimistic that things are
moving forward.
The PhD feels like be in suspended animation some times. There it is, my thesis
open in another window, but it's not moving at all. I'm not moving at all. I
feel like I've done nothing today, but for me, as I think about it, doing
nothing has included:
- Waking,
stretching, doing 3 sets of 20 push ups.
- Working
on a bit of the thesis, deleting and rewriting a key paragraph and
cleaning up some of the other writing I've done
- Doing
some things around the house: emptying the dishwasher, hanging the
laundry, cleaning the carpet.
- Taking
Yoko to her eye appointment and watching the kids while she was being
seen.
- Lifting
in the outdoor
gym for 15-12-10 reps in 4 sets in 4 positions.
- Drafting
a bid for a small grant for my airfare to the States in October.
That's certainly not nothing, is it?
Tonight we will eat kebabs. You can't have kebabs in Japan, but you can so many other things. I am thinking, as I do, about returning to Japan. The possibilities always lead back there: I have like a three month cycle where I look through all my options and end up thinking, well, I need to go back to Japan. No, more importantly, we need to go back to Japan. And I think I may have a way to have my cake and eat it too--that is, do the research I want to and also return to teaching full time next autumn. We'll see. Lots of things would have to fall into place.
I was thinking about returning to the States for a while,
usually, when this happens, it lasts for about a week of that. I was thinking
about how nice it would be, but it was a 'how nice it would be' in a very
limited way. I can't place my family there, in a house, in a neighbourhood, in
a car. I can't see it. I see myself making it work. Perhaps that's just because
I haven't done it. If we do it, maybe I could see it.
I see us in Japan, though. Very easily. I was telling someone yesterday what it
would be like, how I already know the speech I would have to make at the dinner
that they would have to welcome the new teachers. I know what getting a
driver's license would be like, what I would have to do to register with the
city. How frustrating hooking up the Internet would be. I know all of that. I
know the kids would be called hafu all
the time, that it would infuriate me. I know that.
I also know that I would be much healthier in Japan than I am here or I would be in the States. Working out, gym membership (or at the school I taught at) would be cheap. Tofu would be cheap and readily available. Going out to eat would be a menu of 80% healthy things. I could have hamburgers now and then. Perhaps I could get over this madness I am in with my body, trying to figure it out.
I'm rambling.
I was paid today: we have 12 payments left on the grant. Then I will have to do
something else. That's the problem, that's the pressure. What's the next step:
what should the next step be. P asked me last night, does the
thought of going back to Japan make you happy? 'Happy?' I said, 'No, happy is
the wrong word.' The right word is peace. It's a peaceful thought.
It's a weight off of my shoulders. It's improving my ability to communicate
with my wife. It's a mini-cub and
eating out once a week. It's stability. Yes, of course, happiness, but
something so much more than happiness. Contentment? Would I be content
there? Or will something else open up? Another door too attractive to not
open... There are so many doors like that.
Please, someone. Decide for me.