Self-preservation and Renewal

Since I published an article over two weeks ago I’ve been trying to get another written. It’s not that I haven’t found time to write, I have. It’s not that I don’t have anything to write about, I do. So why haven’t I been able to get on written? My writings having been completely jumbled. There’s no clear thread to any of the articles I’ve attempted to write: they are all a mess.

I have writer’s block.

This wasn’t how I thought writer’s block would manifest itself. I’ve often imagined a writer sitting at their desk, their hands poised over a keyboard waiting to start typing. They would appear calm and relaxed, but inside there would be a blankness, they could not see what they wanted to write. They’d be waiting for that idea, that spark that would spring them into action and then their fingers would fly across the keys –  writer’s block forgotten.

That is not what it is like for me.

I have been writing continually for over two years. I created a separate area in my OneDrive account to store these writings. They were never meant for publication and I didn’t want there to be any mistakes. They were purely a way for me to privately express my thoughts, feelings, and emotions as a method of self-preservation. I’d read that writing was a way to protect mental health, so I’d just write. It tumbled out from me onto the page, I filled document after document, page after page, with never any thought of returning to them again. It was my equivalent of transferring all my emotions onto a stone before casting it out into the sea.

These ramblings were impossible to control. They touched on topics so painful that I just needed to get them out without any filtering between myself and the words I was typing. I’m not yet ready to re-visit them.

Now, after writing like this for two years, I need to add structure back to my writing otherwise I’ll not be able to publish again.

I also find my mind haunted by some of the things that I’ve lived through. As soon as I sit down to write I have them churning around, disrupting the calm that I need to structure my thoughts.

My blogging has always been honest, it’s always been about my experiences in life. I’ve used myself in examples to make my point. I know that what I have written in the past has helped people. I can only continue doing that if I continue with my honesty.

So, how do I move forward?

One thought is to have a very clear list of topics that are off the table. This should give me a safety net in my own mind to use while I am writing. But this would only be a stop gap. Dancing around traumas does not resolve them. That painful task would still lie ahead.

The thing is: playing it safe is not how you grow, or how you heal. Dancing around a weakness does not improve it. I injured my back when I was 17 and resting it made it worse. When I hurt my shoulder in Japan it was only when I restarted my strength training did I start regaining my mobility. And it was only through tackling my dyslexia head on that I developed my unique way to turn it into a positive.

Running away from these issues is not going to help me. I must face them and writing with the aim to publish will help me to work through them. But there is no way I can publish it all. The only solution I can see is for me to write the article but blank out the bits too painful for me to publish. I hope you can give me that.

I cannot go through the healing I need without painful self-examination.

How Life Has Changed

Almost 6 years after I first started to blog I find myself ready to blog once more. I last blogged regularly near the end of 2017. I’d been blogging for close to 2 years on topics relating to personal development, family life, expat experiences, and observations of the world around me. I often found myself making additional connections in my head while drafting a post which had the post more insightful and helped me develop. I had also begun to get a little following. 

Then, while living in Tokyo, I made a big career move. I left the Engineering IT world that I knew very well and stepped into the unknown world of Management Consultancy. Very quickly my writing dried up, as all my creative energy got consumed by my new career. This did not happen without my knowledge; I saw it happen and was happy not to fight it. I was going through a period of intensive growth and had no capacity to write. 

Four and half years have now gone by and so much has happened in that time. 

• I’ve changed jobs again, 
• I’ve moved countries twice,  
• I’ve moved continents,  
• I’ve repatriated back to my native UK thanks to a global pandemic (I’d been overseas for over a decade), 
• My wife and I have home schooled our children for two and a half years 
• I’ve called seven buildings “Home” 

Somethings have not happened: 

• I didn’t travel for business for 26 months 
• I didn’t fly at all for 22 months 

So much of the world and its people have been affected by the global pandemic. It will take societies many years, possibly a decade, to make sense of what happened. I’ve been impacted, along with my family, and we have suffered trauma over the last two years. Part of my aim for my writing is to help me unpack some of what I have experienced. I will be speaking from my own experiences: everybody has their own story to tell. 

As I start to write this article I find myself in very familiar surroundings. I am sitting by the departure gate in an airport, waiting for my flight to be called. At the height of my traveling back in 2019 I’d sometimes take 8 or more flights a week. I’ve always travelled for work, but 2019 was excessive. Sometimes I’d come home to Tokyo for a 36-hour weekend before heading back out again. My family learnt to experience life without me. My children expected me to be away, so there was no surprise when my suitcase appeared by the door. Having spent the last 26 months together has meant that this time is different. None of us feel ready for me to be away for 3 days, and I have put it off a bit. 

My travel schedule will be less now. Most of it will be contained within Europe. Instead of flying multiple times a week I’ll be flying every few weeks. These are all positives. But I’ll also have to cope with flight travel as it really re-opens following the pandemic. There are lines every step of the way as airports do not have enough employees. 

The world has changed over the last 4.5 years, and so have I. I’m excited to see that my creative energy has returned. I’ve experienced periods of incredible joy, privilege, and pain. My mind is so cluttered from the chaos of these last years that it’s impacting my thought clarity. Writing will help. It will open new connections in my brain and let me put things into context. 

I hope you will join me as I step back through these last hectic years. It will be quite a ride. 

Reflecting Four Years in Asia

Over four years ago my wife and I took the decision to moved from Europe to Asia. We had left our native UK 9 years previously, remaining in Europe. Now we took the next step, moving 8 time zones further east.

Our first destination, although we didn’t know it would only be our first location, was Tokyo. What an incredible experience that was. We really were thrown in at the deep end and thrived. For the first two years I blogged extensively about this experience. I found the time and had the mental space to do this. For the following two years my life became so hectic that I found my blogging taking a backseat.

Now I am taking a little time reflecting on my experiences during the last four years. We are currently in lockdown in New Delhi due to the global COVID-19 virus. I really can’t believe that I’ve experienced some of the things I have during our time in Japan and India. Part of the problem was that I wasn’t always living in the moment. The last two years in Japan were a period of such professional growth that I had little time to stop and reflect – and even less time to write. This was, however, a conscience decision as I’d re-evaluated my priorities as you can see from the post below:

Re-assessing Priorities

Six months ago the adventure took another turn as we moved to India for an assignment. This moved us from one incredible Asian city to another. Tokyo, the current most populated city in the world, to New Delhi the city projected to overtake it by the end of this decade. These two cities could not be more different, nor could the cultures and attitudes of the people populating them. Moving to New Delhi and spending time with Indian colleagues, clients, neighbours, and fellow city dwellers has given me so many additional fascinating insights into life.

I’m writing this post while lying in an egg chair on our balcony. The sun is beginning to lower in the sky, I’m enjoying the relaxing tones of composer Ludovico Einaudi coming from my phone. It’s warm and my eyelids are getting heavy – I may doze before I finish writing this post.

These Asian years really have included some of the most incredible highs that I have ever experienced. They’ve also included some of the most incredible lows. Some of these highs I have written about, most of the lows I have not. The one thing that all these experiences have had in common is that they have all been adventures, regardless of whether they were good or bad. Adventures are what make up our life stories. Adventures shape our character. Adventures give us the stories we share with others.

I’ve had periods of my life where I’ve been in a rut – that really has not been the case for the last four years. We really have squeezed a lot into this time. So much so that I can’t believe it’s only been four years – it feels a lot longer.

• We’ve celebrated the previous three New Years on different continents – North America, Asia, then Europe
• We’ve ventured into the Southern Hemisphere
• I’ve visited six countries for work, taking my tally up to 11
• I’ve nearly filled my passport with visa’s and entry stamps
• I’ve chaperoned my son’s class in Cambodia
• We’ve lived in, or close to, places I grew up thinking I’d never even visit such as Mount Fuji and the Taj Mahal

I’ve had a window behind the scenes into some very different cultures. These cultures all have their strengths and weaknesses. The fascinating part of my role is seeing how to help clients work to the strengths of their particular culture and mitigate any effects caused by their weaknesses. When this happens, you really do see sizable change.

On the Move Again

My family and I are on the move again. After close to four years in Tokyo it is time to move on. This will be country number 6 for me, although if you count countries that I’ve worked in it would be country number 11. We’ve decided that we want to remain in Asia, after four years we’ve only just begun to scratch the surface. It is such a dynamic continent, so much is happening here – the good, the bad, and the ugly (mostly me if I don’t get enough sleep!). We want to remain here a little longer.

Nowhere in the world will be quite like Tokyo so wherever we go will need adjustment. This, for me, is part of the attraction of the expat lifestyle. I regularly have to take stock, consider what my values are, and how they match the culture where I live.

Tokyo required quite a change in work life balance. It made me question whether I could be more or less effective working my usual working hours, or whether adapting Japanese cultural norms would improve this. I also lost easy access to nature while living there. Before I could walk out my back door into a forest. In Tokyo these experiences required planning.

So, where are we? After looking around we finally decided on India. This fascinating country has had a pull on me since I was a child. Seeing the Taj Mahal on travel programmes, reading books like the Secret Garden and the Jungle Book. It was one of those places I wanted to visit, but thought I never would. I certainly never thought I’d be living here. We moved to Gurugram, a city just south west of Delhi within the NCR, the National Captial Region.

It wasn’t an easy move by any means. Any seasoned expat reading this will know how these moves can go. It takes a lot to organize a move for a family of four from one country to another and you need everything to fall into place. At times we thought it wasn’t going to happen – also not uncommon for this type of move. We had delays in paperwork, visas, and even uncertainty on destination at one point.

While these delays were both frustrating and stressful, they did allow us to experience that little bit more from Tokyo – adventures that were added extras as it were:

• The rugby World Cup moved into town before we moved out – we got caught up in Japans thrill at hosting
• We had our first experience of an Airbnb – the consequence of not leaving the country after the notice period is up on your apartment and hotels are full of rugby following supporters
• Super Typhoon Hagibis struck Japan in October just days before we left. This was the most powerful typhoon to hit the Kanto region of Japan for 70 years
• For the first time ever I was in the eye of the storm as Hagibis passed overhead. I’ve always wanted to experience this and was able to without the usual dangers thanks to Tokyo’s strong buildings. It really was an eerily quiet experience

Now we’ve been in India for a little over a month. Life is beginning to settle down into its new rhythms. Some expected, some completely bonkers. In Europe we owned cars, in Japan we used public transport, here we lease a car and driver. There’s no way that we could drive on the roads here.

Our new life centres around our condominium complex with its club house – another new experience for us. It’s our gym, our meeting place, a centre for our social life. We’ve already made friends in the complex – saying hello as we bump into them makes it feel a bit more home.

Living within the NCR means moving within diplomatic circles. Had we not just lived in another capital city then this would feel strange. Already we’ve met government ministers and a few Ambassadors. Had we stayed in the UK this would never have happened.

We are still in the process of finding our new norms. My training regime has completely had to change. Gone are my long runs, they are something that I’m just not going to be able to do here. I’m having to get used to treadmills – they will be my new friend except that they are not. I find it hard contemplating a 3-hour run on a treadmill. Our food culture has also changed once again. Out go our Japanese staples, in come Indian ones.

There are so many new experiences waiting for us as we start the next chapter of our lives. Just what they are will only become apparent as we keep striving forward. Seeing the Taj Mahal with my own eyes has been an incredible start. I can’t wait to see the rest.

Experiencing Holi

I am a very outgoing person, an extrovert. in my 20s my scores were almost off the chart they were so high. Over the years, however, I have found peace and solitude in quiet time. I have found that I can be quite happy taking my myself away from crowds and being peaceful. I’ve also found that I can surround myself by people, noise, and activity, but not join in. Part of this I guess is down to just growing up, part of it must be down to my love of self-discovery – it’s hard to do this while busily engaging people. I’m sure also, that part of it must also be down to my expat lifestyle which is quite a lonely existence at times. Especially as I’ve lived for well over 10 years in countries where I don’t necessarily understand the language to its full.

The above reasons are not the only ones however. Over the last years I’ve been developing two hobbies that demand solitude and observation. These hobbies are quickly becoming large parts of my identity. Firstly, there is my writing, and secondly my photography. As any writer or photographer will tell you, it takes time alone to develop these arts. Whether this is in the crafting of a story, or the framing of an image. It takes time observing something to be able to write about it or take good pictures of it.

For an extravert, making time away “from the action” could have been difficult. Indeed, this could have been a very different post. It could have been entitled “The Loneliness of the Observer”. But that’s not how I feel – not as long as I balance myself. You see, I’ve found that I am just as happy existing in my quiet self as I am in socialising.

There are sometimes, however, when I just have to leave my camera and notebook at home. There are just some celebrations that have to be lived with all senses firing. They are just so real that I want to soak myself in them, rather than observe them through my lens. One of those events happened last weekend – “Holi”.

A simple web search will tell you what Holi is. This search will give you the facts and some lovely pictures or videos. What it won’t do, however, is give you the atmosphere. At the weekend I went with my family and some of our friends to a Holi celebration in Tokyo. Here I found music and dancing, delicious Indian food, a great mix of Indian and Japanese cultures, and I found colour. A lot of colour.

I know I could have got some brilliant pictures of colours being sprayed up into the air – dispersing gently in the breeze. I could have got some close ups of people smiling through the colour, laughing as they decorated each other. I could have got some amazing shots of friends and families dancing together, of peoples of all nationalities and ethnic backgrounds embracing the celebrations. But I didn’t want to.

What I wanted to do was get full on sensory overload. The type that gets my nerve endings tingling. The type that gets dampened down when I’m concentrating on a photograph. Let me give you an example. I love the beat of a drum – I can feel my body responding to it as it takes control of my pulse. And there is something about Japanese drums that just oozes raw power – the power that really makes my body respond. Two years ago, I was photographing my first Japanese festival – right there in front of me was a troupe of Japanese drummers. Suddenly I realised that I was no longer even noticing the drums, so absorbed was I with my photography. As soon as I took the camera away from my eye I began to feel the drums again.

As this was my first Holi festival I did not want to erect this barrier between me and the experience. I observed using my eyes, ears, and heart. Oh, and I got colourful!

Taking Back My Brain

Even the most centred of people can become uncentred if they forget to do the basics that made them centred in the first place. And that was what had happened to me. For almost 5 months now my brain has been active. So very very active. So active in fact that it hasn’t had any down time, hasn’t been able to “freewheel”, that is something that I normally let it do as often as possible. There has been no time for my brain to create new ideas. I’ve had no capacity for thinking. None for writing blog posts. But, finally I’ve begun to find some breathing space within my brain. I’ve found a way to calm it long enough so that I’ve been able to exert some control back over it. I’ve found myself connecting ideas and writing sentences again. How did I manage this? I relied on my old love – books.

I’ve had periods where my mind has been “busy” before – and I bet you have too. Normally there has a good reason for this and this time was no exception. I started a new job and moved houses all on the same day – while I was living in a foreign country. Both the two months before and after this date have now ended up a bit of a blur. I know that my brain was exceedingly active during this period but I wasn’t in control of it. I know that I was getting a lot done during these four months. I know that I had quite a lot of new experiences during those four months. But at the time it felt like they were happening to somebody else. My brain felt detached from these experiences – I was neither able to fully appreciate them nor process them. One day I had somebody come up to me and say hi, saying that we’d sat next to each other at a dinner. Not only did I not recognise him but I couldn’t even remember the dinner.

And when I sat down to write I found that there was nothing there. Nothing at all. Just a silence, and the knowledge that there was some huge process running in the background of my brain – some “ghost process”. Whatever my brain was up to, it was using all available computing power for that process and leaving none left for me.

This, I can tell you, was not a very calming experience. I am used to generating ideas almost continuously and having the ability to shut down my brain when required. For a while, however, I found my brain waking me up at 4am in the morning. I forgot all of my meditating techniques, I wasn’t practicing my Alexander Technique, nor was I running or exercising.

So roughly 8 weeks ago I went on a brain offensive. If I was to re-claim my brain, I reasoned, then I was going to have to harness its power of imagination. And the best way I knew to do this was to read. We have a small library at home so I chose a book about Steve Jobs. It’s a book that I’ve wanted to read for a while, and it was interesting enough. But I needed something more. This book didn’t paint enough pictures in my brain.

I needed a novel so that I could really give my brain something to create. Some imaginary that I could bring to life and populate with characters from the book.

As chance would have it this task fell to John Grisham. I started to read a different book first, but it was one that I’d read before. As I’d already read the book, I’d already created the imagery. None of it was new – I was not creating a new world in my head, only recycling an one. I really that this was not going to be enough for me. Recycling imagery was not going to do demand enough mental effort.

So I switch to “The Whistler”, and as I progressed though the book I felt myself coming back. I began having short spaces for thought and for writing. As the pages turned, so I began to get some paragraphs written. The further I got through the book so the longer these paragraphs became. These are not paragraphs that will ever find their way into a post – but that was not their role. They were purely for mental exercise – purely to exert control over my brain and starve off the ghost process. It worked. The further I progressed through the book, the more I felt my brain returning to me. I got first one post published, then two more successfully drafted.

Creative reading gave me my brain back when it had been consumed by a something else. It took me a while to notice that something had had happened, and that was because I had been ignoring the basics. I had not been doing the activities that keep be centred. If this were to happen to you, do you have a strategy to overcome it?

Trip to Takayama – Where Time Stood Still

Even though today is a work day you won’t find me sitting at my desk. You won’t catch me having a lie in either. An earlier start than usual, and a semi-long train journey has resulted in me currently travelling through the Gifu prefecture of Japan. This is a mountainous region, and is described as the Japanese Alps. 

Fuji Spotting 

Our journey started when we caught the first Shinkansen of the day out of Tokyo Station. I love travelling by Shinkansen (Bullet Train). They are so smooth, comfortable, and fast – making travelling great distances a joy. Every time I step onto one it feels like I’m entering a different world. One which is a mixture of calm serenity and modern efficiency. They really do sum up the best of Japan. 

We were all excited by the chance to see Fuji-san as the Shinkansen tracks run right past the base of the mountain. As any traveller to Japan knows, seeing Fuji is far from guaranteed. It is particularly rare between the months of May and September when Fuji is shrouded in cloud more often than not. We have increased our chances of a sighting but the early signs are not encouraging. The local mountains are disappearing into the mist! 

How we’ve increased our chances: 

• It’s nearly the end of September so Fuji is beginning to show itself more regularly, 
• We are traveling early in the morning when Fuji is often more visible – cloud build-up obscures Fuji later in the day 

Still, as I said, the early signs are not encouraging. 

At the right moment, however, we burst out of a tunnel traveling at 320 km/h and encounter completely different weather. And there is Fuji – neither shrouded in cloud nor faintly visible through the mist. No, Fuji appears in its full glory. 

Fuji from the Shinkansen – copyright David Veitch

Fuji is speckled only with a few strategically placed clouds, accentuating Fuji’s majesty almost like beauty spots on a model. Four weeks ago my son and I stomped our way up to the summit of Fuji – no easy task I can tell you. Today, however, I only need to marvel at its iconic shape. Its profile really is a sight that I can never get tired of seeing. 

Into the Mountains 

At Nagoya we switched from the Shinkansen to a regional train that took us up between mountains and along river gorges to Takayama. This is a very picturesque route, but it seemed to prioritise speed over comfort. At times I felt like I was being thrown around inside a washing machine. The return journey was even worse!

Gorge from the regional train – copyright David Veitch

The Mountain Towns

We made a short stop at Takayama before boarding a bus to Ogimachi. This is a pretty little village buried deep in the mountains. Our bus route took us through 14 tunnels totalling 29 km in length – yes we counted! While I had seen pictures of Ogimachi before, I wasn’t really prepared for its full beauty. We arrived in brilliant sunshine which, while making the trip more enjoyable, made for more challenging photography conditions. We spent about four hours wondering around the village, only really scratching the surface. We could have stayed longer… 

Ogimachi – copyright David Veitch

To see my favourite pictures from Ogimachi please view my Portfolio: Ogimachi Portfolio 

We spent the night back in Takayama, a lovely Edo Period town. It was during our return journey that we counted the tunnels. (When you spend 30 minutes of an hour’s journey in tunnels then you have to do something!) We planned to walk around the old town that night to build a plan for the next day. However, it got dark so quickly that that plan soon went out the window! So we looked for something to eat instead – only to find that most places closed at 6pm. Be careful if you plan to visit rural Japan – it shuts down early: shops, buses, ferries, restaurants! 

The next day brought sun, many Edo period buildings, and busloads of tourists! Our quiet little town of the previous night was completely transformed. However, with clever photography it is still possible to capture a town’s stillness if you experiment and have patience. Below you can see two images of the same street: 

Capturing an empty street in Takayama – copyright David Veitch

To see my favourite pictures from Takayama, please view the Portfolio I created on my photography blog: Takayama Portfolio

Takayama was definitely worth the visit – despite the crowds.  If you can’t cope with crowds then Japan, or any beauty spot really isn’t for you. We all had a great time! 

My lasting image of this trip will be the water flowing through culverts in both towns. This was mountain water, some of the purest and clearest I’ve seen in Japan. It looked so inviting! In Ogimachi we even saw fish 20cm long swimming in some of the culverts! 

Japan really has so much to offer. After 21 months we are still only scratching the surface! Now we’re planning the next trip.

 

Parenting Third Culture Kids

A lot has been written about third culture kids (TCKs). How they cross over from one culture’s expectations to another. From one culture’s behaviour’s to another. I see them as the closest we humans have come to replicating chameleons. But as much as I have read about them, I have yet to read anything from their parent’s perspective. And that’s me! 

I was not a third culture kid. I grew up in one country, in the same city. It was only after I left home that I started my world traveling. My kids, on the other hand, have lived on two continents, in two or three countries depending, and in countless houses. 

I know very clearly what my culture is. It’s British. Well, it’s British, affected by my time in Canada, Germany, Sweden, and Japan. So that’s clear then! 🙂 

What is my children’s culture? 

But what about my children’s culture? What is it?

• Does it come from mine and my wife’s culture?
• Is it from their first country?
• Is it from their passport country?
• Is it from the country they’ve lived in the longest?
• Is it from their current country?
• Is it from the cultural mishmash that is their international school?

The truth is that it is a mixture of all of these. How they decide in any given occasion is probably the same as I do. They adjust their culture to fit the situation they are in at the time. They would not expect others to adjust to them. Hence the cultural chameleon I talking about earlier. I would never think of offering my hand to shack in Japan, but it would be the first thing that I’d do in most other countries I’ve visited.

All of this leads to a very important question for me as their parent: can I, should I, correct my children for following a set of cultural norms that are acceptable to them but not acceptable to me?

Have a think about that for a little bit! It may sound like a trivial question to you. You may have an answer for me – one that you are possibly shouting at the screen right now as you despair at my parenting skills, or lack of:

• “You are the parent, you make the rules” you shout

Let me give you a little example to help you understand the difficulty. What should my children do when they have a cold? 

• In England we blow our nose. Sniffing is seen as rude 
• In Japan you sniff – as blowing your nose in public is rude 

So, sorry kids: there’s no way you’re going to please both me and our Japanese hosts at the same time! This is a useful life lesson in itself:

You can’t please all of the people all of the time

This kind of cultural conundrum could go part way to explaining why TCKs can often seem more wise than their years. They deal with issues on a daily basis growing up that you wouldn’t expect a child to even think about.

This topic came up in conversation last weekend. A friend had to tell his daughter to “sit properly” at the table. But after he’d said it and she’d changed position he went on to explain that she was sitting exactly the way her maternal grandmother sits.

What I like about this and other examples I’ve witnessed, is the openness with which these issues are often discussed within families. There is real, honest, open engagement between the parents and children on the subject.

I believe this leads to very healthy family relationships. 

How would you have handled the situation?

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It is impossible to live around the world without being affected by it, being changed by it. If even an adult who spent their formative years in one place feels the effects, imagine how great those effects must be for a child. I feel being a parent is a great honour, one that is only amplified by this expat life.

I’m Tired – I Blame my Brain

Using our brains, and I mean really using our brains makes us tired. Or maybe it is just me? Maybe my brain hasn’t had the required upgrade yet and is still too power hungry? How can I know that using my brain makes me tired? 

Right now I am constantly tired, I am constantly yawning. If I was still a child then my mother would tell me to go to bed earlier (I’m speaking from experience here!). But lateness to bed is not the problem here. Nor is physical exercise, or lack of it to be more precise. I experience a negative downward spiral when I don’t exercise and have felt physically and mentally exhausted by this in the past. It goes something like this:

This has happened to me twice in the last 10 years so I know what it feels like: 

• 8 years ago my blood pressure got to as low as 80/50 
• Last year it was down at 99/58 

That time 8 years ago was the inspiration for my training. I wanted to stop feeling tired. I have kept a training log for the last 8 years so I know that I am currently training more than I have for the last 3 years. I am, in fact, close to my peak. This was confirmed in a recent health check. My blood pressure has risen from 99/58 to 128/64. So as I said, lack of training is not the cause of my tiredness.  

So what is the cause? What is making me so tired? The answer is simple – “my brain”. 

For such a small part of our total body weight, about 2%, the brain consumes so much energy – if it is really used! 

• I am currently studying my Japanese more intensively than I have since I arrived 
• I am listening in to discussions in meetings – trying to pick up meanings 
• I am beginning to incorporate Japanese into my daily life 

This is causing my brain to literally suck the energy out of me. This is tiring me more than my recent 11-hour slog climbing Mount Fuji did. (Read the article here: My Family are Home!) 

I have felt tiredness like this before: 

• When I lived in Germany. I was tired constantly for the first 3 months. There, learning German was much more immediate and intensive than it has been here in Japan 
• When I lived in Sweden and repeated the pain/joy/exhaustion of learning a new language 

If you’ve never had the opportunity of immersing yourself in a new language then think of it this way. EVERY conversation you have takes double, triple, maybe even quadruple the amount of mental effort than communicating in your native tongue. If you keep this up for hours at a time you can see why it takes its toll. 

But this tiredness is a rite of passage. It signifies that my language skills have got to the point that they now exhaust me. This is a good sign – up till now my language was too basic to affect me. So I am making progress, even if it feels slow. From my previous language experiences I know that this will pass – once my language proficiency gets to the next level. 

Until that happens I am really happy that I’m tired. Sounds crazy I know! My brain is currently learning my fourth language – arguably the hardest one yet. It is at least the most different from any of the others. Therefore, I will forgive my brain for making me tired. Go ahead brain, you use all of the energy you need – I want to be able to speak Japanese! 

Paper Lanterns

I am drawn to lanterns, just like I am moved by the power and raw energy of a drum. They have always attracted me, like moths to a light-bulb. They are almost the exact opposite of drums. While drums pump out pure energy, there is something very gentle about combining the flickering light of a candle with the delicacy of paper. They have a fleeting existence – and that only helps to increase their appeal.

Over 10 years ago I was at a paper lantern festival in southern Germany. The local rose garden was open at night and was lit purely by the lanterns. It was a magically sight – that was until the sky’s opened and rain drops the size of small pebbles feel to earth, ripping through their fragile structures and shredding them in moments. By the time the rain stopped, not only was I wet through but all the lanterns lay broken on the ground.

Living in Tokyo means that I am literally surrounded by lanterns. They are used at restaurants, shrines, street decorations, and festivals. I love them, although most are more robust than paper and are lit by light bulb. Tonight there is a festival on the Sumida River in Tokyo that takes the fragility of paper lanterns and, in my view, connects that with the fragility of our own existence.

Narrow Street in Shinjuku – copyright David Veitch

The festival is called Asakusa Toro Hagashi, and is part of Obon. Obon is a time of year when Japanese people traditionally go back home to their parents or grandparents house and remember their ancestors and departed family members. The Bon-Odori that I went to recently, (I Love Tokyo in the Summer) was also related to this I believe.

At the festival we will float the lanterns down the river and I can’t imagine anything more beautiful or poignant. Thousands of lit lanterns, released to float on the river for a moment, before slipping gently beneath the waves. All in an act of remembrance.

So I’ve bought my lantern. I’ve written my personal message onto it, and I’ve joined the line of people waiting patiently. It is a beautiful day so I don’t mind waiting.

As it gets darker – copyright David Veitch

If my last two festivals were full of energy, then this one is full of contemplation. There are no drums, no dancing, and no fireworks. What there is is thousands upon thousands of people remembering their loved ones.

They may be gone from this world, but they are not gone from our hearts.

The Lanterns after Dark – copyright David Veitch