Iris Murdoch

“Writing is like getting married.
One should never commit oneself
until one is amazed at one's luck.”
—Iris Murdoch

Life: never what you expect

I think that part of growing up must be coming to terms with the fact that life never really turns out the way you think it will.

I can look back to so many different periods of my life, and see that my perceptions of my own future at those times were so.....unrealistic, so unlife-like. I think it`s that so many people externalise their future goals; `I`ll be living HERE, doing THIS kind of job and being THIS popular`, when in fact the things that really evolve and hold meaning in our lives are internal situations. The way we deal with ourselves, the way we treat others, the amount of effort we put into the people and situations around us. That`s where the value is.

It`s something I am still learning. Actually, I am seriously not very good at it. I think because my mother died when I was 16, that I`ve felt completely anchorless and have just drifted from one experience to another for the last 13 years. I have never really invested in anything, emotionally or otherwise. And, while it`s a perfectly fine thing to do when you are young, it doesn`t offer much return in the long run.

Styx

underground
the boat
takes yet another load
of hibernations
babies to the far side
of the slow water;
waving....goodbye!
Upstairs, the
jonquil bulb
is breathing hard,
little coffins open.

Te Paatu

i have just learned that the area i come from is called Te Paatu, thanks to Janice Clarke, a memeber of a long time far north family. I think i am going to write a collection of poems about the valleys of Te Paatu; Honeymoon Valley, Fern Flat, Kaiaka, Oruru, Victoria. I dont want to fall into the trap of writing about maori things as if i myself am maori. but i do want to explore the history of where i come from and then write from that basis.

i feel i dont know enough about my own home, and how can i write about something i know nothing about? Id love, for example to find out why the valleys are named as they are and id like to learn the stories of the people who populated the area over the past 300 - 400 years. My primary school was established in 1873! well over 200 years old and i know that the school alone holds a lot of history, such as the banning of maori language. a project in the making. exciting.

It's Just Different Here .... in Japan that is

I had a sudden memory today of something I saw a few weeks back now. I was waiting for my morning train at my local train station, Unga, and noticed on the other side, a woman with her elderly mother who was in a wheelchair. They were waiting at the far end of the platform, just opposite me, at the wheelchair access ramp.

Waiting with them was one of the oshiya, or station workers. i love these guys. they're always dressed impeccably; crisp blue shirts, police style hats, often white gloved and always looking as if their job is the most important thing in the world. It seems that people really respect all kind of worker here; train station workers, bus drivers etc.

I don't know in which way, but it kind of feels like people who work in these positions in Japan are more involved in the beauracratic and regulatory / safety aspect of what they do, than say, in New Zealand where bus drivers have a slightly disinherited manner.

Anyway, this oshiya stood with the elderly woman and her daughter, waiting to assist them onto the train. as they waited he talked to them both, but I feel mainly with a focus on the older of the two - although it didnt seem that he felt obliged, or that the conversation was forced. It just seemed that he would never ever consider NOT talking to her. he was holding one of those orange safety batton things and with it he was pointing to various places around the station and on the tracks, possibly explaining the finer art of train conductoring (i know i made that word up) or maybe even some recent and exciting train station event. who knows.

The two women were thoroughly engrossed, especially the older woman. What struck me was how gently, respectfully and easily he spoke to her, obviously seeing the value in her presence. I love this about Japan. People are so so kind to one another. I see this in my class everyday, and in my mixed level english chat sessions. More fluent students are kind and patient with those whose level is lower or those who struggle. And in my main class students are so respectfully interested in one another. Its so lovely. Japan is a kind and gentle country.

about life

Lately life has been interesting. its not that its been fast paced, overwhelming or tokyo-ish, thats not why. i live out in a totally different prefecture from tokyo, which is the chiba prefecture. it is still the greater tokyo metro area, but not tokyo central with all its amazing nagameguro, shimokita, shibuya, shinjuku, harajuku, rippongi, ueno and so on. what has been interesting is the way that i am dealing with being here. or rather, what is happening internally while here.

i feel like i am growing somewhat. possibly a cliche for someone from new zealand (or anywhere) who has traveled to other, distant places. but i am not 20 or even 25 and i have been there and done that with the whole o.e. thing. so that is not what it is about. its more like some kind of relief work, a cutting away of the small things that need not be there anymore, where i feel the effects of what happens around me acutally shape the physical reality of who i am. i guess they could be called light-bulb moments, or epiphanies, realisations. but they are not just realisations because i actually feel changed afterwards. physically, but in an internal way.

often, in my life when i experience these things, i have been reading some great book. i think that it is to do with timing and my frame of mind as much as what i am reading, and of course, sometimes i need not read anything and still i experience change. but often a great work of literature; the words of a woman or man who has thought beyond the realm of what i am capable of thinking, opens up a new way of looking at myself, and thinking about the world. surely not a new thing for anyone who reads? so yeah. but ... its different this time and i dont know why. i guess.... i just feel .....i dont know.

so often i feel the intimacy and warmth of my private thoughts, resounding, reverberating against the massive feeling of cold insignificance that seems to be in the world. and insignificance isnt even the right word .... i dont know if there IS a word in english for it. it is that i know we are not insignificant, but when you look yourself in the eye and truely let your heart feel what it feels about who you are, why you are, where you are, that there is no answer! that no matter what you feel, there is no resolution, there is no object, human or otherwise that can solve the deep longing i feel.