There are so many going away sessions. It's hard to keep them balanced, especially when they sneak up after I've planned to have the night in for various other chores. I think all the people who are leaving have a similar experience, caught between taking care of everything that needs to be done to move away and seeing all the people there are to see.
It's a funny thing to leave Japan. I've been thinking about what I will do with this blog. It seems like it would be nice to continue a separate blog after my time here. But life is not the same elsewhere. Living in Japan is, in a way, a separate living, an excision from life. It is worthy of a framed blog with a name. But what does one call normal life? Under what banner does it fly? What would be the purpose of such a blog?
Maybe it doesn't need a purpose. I'll still have to think about it. But the exercise of thinking of normals life's context has highlighted for me the exceptional experience I'm living, and goodbyes are not excluded from this. How does one say goodbye, when really, you might not ever see one another again? In America this is always some chance. But Japan is so far away. How does one say goodbye? I'm leaving an unusual part of life, like leaving the dead, or the living, or stepping out of Brigadoon. To connect to leave. What a strange act is saying goodbye.