久し振り笑って顔 (Long Time No See Happy Face)

It's strange. In the matter of one month my mind and thoughts are changing. Though I am stressed with my money situation and with my job I find myself waking up happy and eager to begin the day. This is a side of me I have not seen for a very long time. It is an aspect that I have long wished to once more be present within my life. Each day begins with the same routine and I follow the same path to the train station on my bicycle, yet each day feels brand new and the cool afternoon breeze uplifts my spirits and makes the upcoming hour long train ride seem inconsequential. Though I spend almost everyday on my own with no human interaction (minus my students and the random old ladies who like talking to me) I don't feel lonely. I don't feel sad. I just spent all day in my room watching TV shows I had to catch up on and not for one moment did I wish that there was someone beside me. Where is the loneliness and soul crushing sadness that has dogged me for the past two years?

Could my hopes and theories possible be true? Is Japan really healing my soul and building me back into the person I wish to be? Perhaps I could equate this feeling to the everlasting thirst felt by a desert wanderer as he comes across a cool glass of water after an arduous journey dotted with infrequent droplets of dew found upon the needles of each cactus scattered before him.

My prior rhetoric had always referred to America as poison, yet I never honestly believed those words to be so true. Yet with each day I spend here in Akita my soul seems to filter out any toxin once present. With each moment I become stronger and more resolute. I become more confident and driven. I come home to an empty apartment everyday and it's not a punishment. It's a haven. I can feel my wounds healing far more quickly than I ever imagined.

Last night I went to the beach. Beside witnessing a night sky that would have calmed even the most enraged beast (minus the heavy club music in the background) I took part in a small conversation with a man from New Jersey and a woman from South Africa who couldn't understand why I don't miss America and why I feel so at home in Japan. They were stunned by the fact that I don't go through times when I wish I was in the states or even in a McDonald's. Is it so strange for my "home" to not be the country within which I was born and raised? Isn't this fact a prime example of my shadowing the actions of Hemingway and other American expatriates who sought refuge in Paris?

Suffice to say, I can once more have faith in my actions and confidence in my decisions.

No matter what happens with my job, I am remaining in Japan however I can. I belong here. My Soul belongs here.