I admit that shrouded in the mystery of yesterday's river offering was a tinge of self-centered concern. Afraid that I had offended my river partner and that this was her way of sending me some abstruse message that I cannot translate or comprehend, I pondered what I could possibly do. I am very conscious of not offending anyone to the greatest of my ability, but I constantly feel like a child, breaking rules that I haven't yet learned. And rules are often surprising and the communication of expectations is often less clear than I can catch. Even if we could speak the same language, how would it help? There is a river between us. How could I find her to ask? Was I offending her and should I stop practicing Tae Kwon Do? My found freedom under this tree was not worth giving up for an unsubstantiated feeling. But how to substantiate it one way or the other with no way to engage in a dialogue? What to do?
Out of curiosity for her daily routine when I am not practicing Tae Kwon Do, I decided to go to the river early this morning, on my rest day, and just sit. At first I thought I had missed her, or that she had stayed away from the rain last night. But then, sometime around 7:45am, she appeared with her little white dog. Rather than look at her, I continued to meditate, to maintain and respect our mutual fourth wall. Perhaps five minutes later I wondered if she was still there and I took a break in my focus to change to walking. She was there, petting her dog, and had righted the tipped balloon doll from yesterday's wind. And then she walked off, having stayed very little time, as usual.
It was a moment of relief for me to have had this peace with her, or some confirmation of shared respect for our mutual space. That she could go about her activities on her own terms, whatever they may mean to her, and that they can be unhindered by my presence. Perhaps I had made a bigger deal of the situation, but in the midst of my over-concern I think I learned a lot. Something about persisting in your presence, but with respect. Something about learning to carry on even, when something is frowning at you and telling you to go home. Something about learning that this voice is actually coming from inside, and not across the river. And then wondering where the source of that voice and feeling really lie.
After sitting for another 30 minutes, I was just getting ready to stand when a woman appeared on my left. She had walked over to me and started to talk to me. Of course, there was a lot of awkward non-understanding, but I love these exchanges, as uncomfortable as they are in a way. It's a practice of opening in the midst of discomfort and connecting with someone in a very pure way. Looking them in the eyes and telling them with your thoughts how thankful you are that they are there, talking to you. She asked if I was practicing yoga and I said yes, for lack of a more clearly articulated rendering of my activities. She had obviously walked along the path when I was practicing Tae Kwon Do and she kept patting her chest. "Heart," "Hope," "Dream," "Fighter." I'm not sure the sum of these words and wish there were some verbs to help, but I'm appreciative of them, nonetheless. We had a really friendly and warm exchange and I had her write down some of these things in kanji so that I could later look them up. And she also wrote information about me that I had told her, so that I could study it.
Biking home with a friend today I was once again asked what my favorite thing was about Japan. It's a large question, perhaps no real answer for it. But I most certainly enjoy these sorts of moments. Getting closer to something very foreign and finding it to be so familiar. Exchanges by the river and across the river. Bridging some gap, perhaps not with knowing or understanding, but certainly with good will.
No comments:
Post a Comment