I'm kind of shocked at how much I don't want to leave. I came into this with the mindset that, while I found Japanese culture fascinating, I didn't have any particularly warm feelings towards the Japanese people as a whole (who I can't help but compare unfavorably to the totally rocking citizens of Mexico). Sadly, I have to say that in general that hasn't changed, though I have met plenty of nice, generous Japanese. But the intensity of the experience, along with some really great friendships I've made with other Americans in the program here, makes parting such sweet sorrow, though actually with more sorrow than sweetness.
What I'm feeling now is the same feeling I've had every time some great chapter of my life comes to a close, whether what's ending is a long adventure, a relationship, or the struggle to complete a goal. There's a physical sensation of sinking in the middle of my chest, as if my center of gravity has taken up residence between my lungs. It's harder to explain the emotional side of it. I, and I think most people, are always in a state of longing for the single experience that will transcend all others and draw together the essence of everything great in life. This is of course a mythical imagining – I've had more than my fair share of great life moments, and I've found that there is no enlightenment, no great joy, no transcendence which is anything but fleeting. Trying to hang onto these sorts of moments is futile. They make you a better person, richer and stronger in spirit, but you're still human, no matter how many mountaintops you've climbed or foreign languages you've learned or great new friends you've made. Your greatest moments are part of you, but you are never synonymous with your greatest moments.
Every time I have to leave or stop something I feel like the moment that will break this mold is just around the corner. I can't shake the feeling that the experience able to change me forever would be mine if only the unavoidable practicalities of the world would hold off, even for just one more day.
This may be the most I've ever regretted having to end an experience. Of course there are a few mundane reasons for this – the idea of heading from Tokyo to Iowa City, Iowa, is unlikely to set anyone's world on fire. Plus, I have all the amenities I need here, I'm partying a lot, and school is my only job, whereas I'm going back to a lot of responsibility and some probably pretty onerous work. But I think above all those concerns is a reason that doesn't make me sound like quite such a lazy bastij. I have an intense love of breaking through cultural barriers – and every day I stay in Japan, I get a bit more effective at that. As soon as I go back to Iowa, not only will my skill stop advancing at anything like the rate it is now, I won't even have the option of using my current skills on real people. And the experience of making new and unusual connections with real people far outside of your usual spectrum is, if you ask me, absolutely one of the most amazing you can have.
I'll miss you, Tokyo – but I'll undoubtedly be back.
