A day like today reminds me of Jamaica, even though I am in Japan. I can see the soft pallor of an overcast sky with the air smelling like freshly fallen rain running into my nostrils. Outside the signs of life are non-existent, save the occasional drone of a passing car. Today I felt like I was back in my high school, staring out at the world, wishing I could be in it. I want to be in the trees as an elf, sliding down house-sized leaves, getting sucked into the raging torrent of a small puddle. I want to explore deep caverns with quiet life; slimy things and wet places. But I’m not there.

I’m an adult, older and different. A little weather beaten and jaded, far from the round-faced little boy I used to be. Now when I look out things feel different; muted. The world isn’t that same mystical place with its fairytale landscapes and beautiful vistas. It harbours memories of the past that follow you wherever you go. But what is a memory but an unchangeable event from the past, a fragment of our life’s mosaic?

On these rainy days in Jamaica, the quiet wetness of everything gave me a inner comfort. Drops of water from the sky touching things made them slow down, giving them pause and clarity. Here is Japan, the trees outside are different but the sky and the rain are the same. As unchanging as rain and sunshine is, our lives change. The uncertainty of tomorrow is eclipsed in each rain drop as it falls like a glistening ball from on high, before exploding into a million pieces on the ground.

Today, maybe I will walk by a window and pretend I’m a foot shorter, with the bright eyes of youth and happiness in my heart. I might look out at those gray skies and see the fairytale again; the one I want to believe.

 

In Hamamatsu, I hang out at a weekly English meetup called “Eigo Mura” (英語村) (English Village). It’s right below a sports bar and this is some footage of me and my friend Yuki hanging out and playing some pool.