Today was Kaneko-sanday and Fūjin, the Japanese god of the wind, was blowing mightily. It takes a lot of work to make it spring, even if sometimes we have to go back to winter for a few hours. I biked to my lesson in the warmth of the promised coming months and rode home in the memories of frigid impending rain storms. Such is spring.
In the past few weeks I've been introduced to several new verb forms and sentence patterns, entitling me to a new level of communication if only I would claim it. It's exciting to learn these things and become endowed with greater potential; and it's frustrating to be unable to exercise them as fully as I would like. I don't really know everything that I know, a familiar dilemma.
This morning I wanted to understand and communicate more with Kaneko-san than I am ready. His presence as my teacher and a Japanese speaker, through no personal attributes of his own, was the source of Fūjin's power and it has refueled my quest for some undefined goal of higher communication. I've remounted Rocinante and am chasing after ever quickening windmills. I'm aware that I'm pursuing something unreal, but for the time being I'm going to ignore it for the sake of the ride and wherever it might take me.
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