Two Birds Soaring on the Wind of Love

Life throws curve balls, and from each curve ball, one must determine how to swing. I was dealt a curve ball recently, as I didn't bargain to meet such an awesome person while living in Chicago. Please pause, now, to read the title of my blog: Ever Upward - A Quest for Daily Inspiration. How do you suppose I could find inspiration in leaving Chicago, and physically leaving someone whom I have fallen for so deeply? That's another curve ball at which I must determine how to swing. I have an understanding, though, from doing this before, that it's not as much of an ordeal as most make it to be.

On the same topic, let me inform you that until there is absolutely nothing left, I will fight to have the opportunity to love, and to love someone who is so beautiful and rare. I cannot measure such beauty in the physical things that I have been dealt, but rather the quality of the person with whom this beauty is associated. The quality of the character of this person is steps above others that I have known in the past. The quality of the person's heart, smile, laugh, and sense of humor shines like the sun. The quality of the person's embrace and kiss, warmth and passion for simple things in life is more than I believed could fit into one being.

The idea of not having the opportunity to watch you grow and nurture our love is tough to fathom. Still, I don't ponder such terrible ideas, as they're not in the cards. One question has lingered in my mind for a time: Why let go of something that is so good? There's no sense in doing that, but the concept of doing such a thing is the bane of so many people. It's a serious question worth serious consideration.

Two birds soaring on the wind of love.

Wake up and return to Earth, please. Life is not over.

がんばれ東北、がんばれ日本。私たちはために祈る。

On Friday, 11 March 2011 at approximately 14:46 Japan Standard Time, a magnitude 9.0Mw megathrust earthquake rocked the Northeast prefectures of Honshu (本州), the main island of Japan. Shortly thereafter, a large tsunami (津波) exceeding 10 meters in height crashed ashore along Japan's northeastern coast. Coastal sections of Sendai-shi (仙台市), a city in Miyagi Prefecture (宮城県) with a population exceeding 1 million, and surrounding areas, were completely devastated by the earthquake and inundated by ensuing tsunami. As it stands now, over 2,400 people have been confirmed dead in the main area of destruction, with numbers likely to exceed 10,000 at final count.

The images of fallen buildings and cars, boats, and other large objects being tossed about like toys are heartbreaking. After living in Japan for several months, the task of processing the extent of the devastation each day is surreal and taxing. Japan is the world's most prepared country for large earthquakes and destructive tsunamis. Advanced technology and strict building codes protect its citizens from these unpredictable disasters caused by our unforgiving, dynamic planet. The scenes of devastation flooding the visual airwaves these past few days have stirred fear worldwide in areas prone to large earthquakes.

The Pacific Northwest of the United States and adjacent southwest Canada are susceptible to earthquakes identical to the one that struck Japan on Friday. The aforementioned geographical region lies adjacent to a subduction zone; that is, a location where one tectonic plate is forced under another into Earth's mantle. The Cascadia subduction zone is a region where the Juan de Fuca plate is subducting under the North American plate at approximately 40 mm per year. This subduction zone threatens cities like Seattle, Portland, and Vancouver, British Columbia, with earthquakes that can reach and exceed 9.0, as well as tsunamis comparable to the one witnessed in Japan. To the south of this region lies the San Andreas fault, a right-lateral strike-slip fault zone. While earthquakes are common in this region, is it not likely for a magnitude 9.0 earthquake to occur in association with its movement.

The issue across the Pacific Northwest is that, compared to Japan, it is highly unprepared for a destructive earthquake. Many old, unreinforced masonry buildings exist in abundance in major urban centers. They would collapse under the stresses imposed by a significant earthquake. Roadways and bridges would also likely crumble and fall. The Alaskan Way, of portion of which is a major viaduct in Seattle, Washington, would likely pancake in a large earthquake, flattening hundreds, if not thousands, of cars on its lower level. Large skyscrapers would likely sway back and forth, but remain upright. Low-lying areas near large bodies of water, like residential areas adjacent to the Puget Sound near Seattle and the Straight of Georgia near Vancouver, to name a couple, would likely be inundated by fast-flowing water. The scene over the past few days in Japan would likely be magnified with the occurrence of a similar event across the Pacific Northwest.

Please keep this in mind as you continue about your daily lives. Earthquakes of this magnitude occur on average once a year worldwide, but this does not mean that it cannot occur again within a 365 day time period, nor does it mean that it will occur again in the next couple of years. A consequence of living on a dynamic planet is that disasters like these do happen, and the best we can do is prepare and educated ourselves.

In the aftermath of this disaster, the generosity of humankind has once again proven outstanding. Search and rescue/recovery teams have assembled from at least fifty nations to aid in the relief efforts in Japan. The spirit of Japan has also stood salient in the face of tragedy. Strangers are helping one another by providing food, water, and other essentials to those living in the hardest-hit areas. Surprisingly (though I can understand this), looting and violence have been at a minimum, or perhaps non-existent. This is how I remember Japan - a nation that thrives off of kindness, honesty, and peace. Its remarkable that this remains true following a magnitude 9.0 earthquake and significant tsunami. This is a lesson to take home.

Please keep the people of Japan in your thoughts and prayers this week and beyond as they continue to rebuild their lives. Donations can be made to legitimate agencies, like the American Red Cross or the Japanese Red Cross via Google.com, among others.

Finally, as you prepare to sleep this evening, think of the people that have been affected by this tragedy, and remember how fortunate you are.

がんばれ東北、がんばれ日本。私たちはために祈る。Ganbare Touhoku, Ganbare Nihon. Watashitachi wa tame ni inoru. Hang in there Northeast, hang in there Japan. We are praying for you.

A Path Less-Traveled

In recent months, I have questioned the paths in which I have taken and have viewed the future with a skeptical (albeit optimistic) eye. The sun has set on certain past goals of mine, and as one chapter ends, so a new chapter begins.

Please take a moment to view the photo above. This spectacular sunset was captured by my camera as it lit up the sky over the Puget Sound adjacent to downtown Seattle, Washington. We can leave it to nature to remind us that, by the memories of so many witnesses, a day gone by will not be forgotten. This goes for those moments of transition in life - the moments that afford us the opportunity to take a leap of faith and take a path less-traveled. If we ponder this notion for a moment, we'll realize that to reach this less-traveled path, we most likely had to travel a well-beaten path to get there.

I recall my days as an undergraduate to be structured by both well-beaten and less-traveled paths. The truth is, every time I stumbled upon a well-beaten path, I quickly returned to a less-traveled path. I always felt more comfortable doing things that nobody else dared to attempt. I wasn't trying to prove myself to anyone, but rather inspire others to take a less-traveled path and dare to attempt what they had believed they could only dream.

In these next few months, I will be making some significant decisions regarding my future. I ask you kindly to please follow me as I ponder the paths that stretch before me, and I ask you for your input on the decisions in which I will be making. I have already considered each path from multiple view points, but I hesitate at this moment to divulge any details regarding these paths, and the implications in which each holds for my future.

The great news is that this is a new adventure. I do not feel helpless; instead, I feel that this is a great opportunity to open many new doors. As the sun sets on one day, so the sun begins to rise on another. Life continues on, and I will embrace this notion.

I will continue ever upward, on a quest for daily inspiration.

Memores Acti Prudentes Futuri - Part V: Two Years Gone By

I sit at the Washington State Convention and Trade Center in Seattle, WA, writing this post and reflecting on the past two years of my life. It was two years ago today that I left Albany for Japan, where I would live for four months and undergo rapid mental and emotional growth. Seattle is located a little less than half-way between Albany and Osaka, determined by the shortest distance between those two cities. I am currently looking over the Puget Sound toward the Olympic Mountains, which are shrouded in a low, dense overcast. Beyond the Olympic Mountains lies the Pacific Ocean. My gaze is set toward Japan.

Some of the greatest memories I have from my time in Japan include the many travel opportunities I had. My first travel experience outside of the Kansai Region of Japan took me to Nagano, home of the 1998 Winter Olympics. There are so many details to be recalled from these experiences and others, but as I think more about it, I feel that certain details are better left secret to most, only to be shared with a few close friends and loved ones. Perhaps this is disappointing to some of you, but please understand that patience is a virtue, as the saying goes, and that the details will be shared in time.

The memories I possess of Kansai Gaidai, Hirakata, Osaka, Kyoto, Hiroshima, Tokyo, Nagano, Nikko, and many more places will not fade from my memory. Like the sun, they will shine every day in my mind as permanently etched photos. As I ponder some of my life's greatest experiences, including my time in Japan, here's a question for you - which experiences do you consider life-changing? Try to recall the details, big and small, from these experiences. Try to draw strength and inspiration from your memories. Growth is coupled with experience. Please continue on your quest for daily inspiration and understand that with inspiration will come determination, with determination will come experience, and with experience will come growth.

From time to time, I will continue publishing posts about my experiences in Japan. At this moment, I would like to take time to share my experiences with loved ones. I'd like to draw inspiration from them and inspire them to achieve their greatest goals. It's from inspiration that we can undergo a transformation from great to magnificent.

One last thought - the sun is casting a dull glow over the city of Seattle through the climatologically-favored low winter overcast. The Puget Sound appears undisturbed to the west as the dense, southward-moving traffic races by on Interstate-5, directly below where I am seated. Great buildings with stoic statures reach skyward in every quadrant of my plane of vision. This is the scientist in me sitting calmly and quietly, observing the world turn and life move by out my window. As I sit, I ponder the stories that each passer-by has to share. It's a spectacular, humbling thought.

Memores Acti Prudentes Futuri - Part IV: Life in Harmony

Memores Acti Prudentes Furturi will, hereafter, possess a different tone. I will focus on experiences in which I believe influenced my growth as I studied in Japan. There is no better way to grow than to step out of one's familiar surroundings and assimilate new experiences in an unfamiliar environment. This stands as my primary motivation to share my stories with you.

New Friends, New City, New Life

I boarded a bus sitting adjacent to the main entrance of the Kansai International Airport terminal as the last rays of sunlight reached Osaka Bay. Already on-board were a number of sleepy students, each hailing from a different part of the United States. I recognized several faces as many of them had been on Northwest Airlines flight 69. Unsure of how to introduce myself, I sat quietly in a window seat on the left side of the bus.

With my eyelids heavy from sleep deprivation, I fought hard to focus on the conversations behind me. One girl introduced herself as Stephanie. She had traveled from Ohio, where she had studied International Studies and Japanese language. I hardly know Japanese. What will these people think of me? I was an Atmospheric Science major at a university in upstate New York, and prior to the summer of 2008, had not spoken a word of Japanese. In fact, it was during that summer that I had started teaching myself written and spoken Japanese. Perhaps it was risky to study in a country with such an unfamiliar language, but I never felt threatened or defeated by such risks. It was, after all, a great adventure and an opportune time for self-discovery.

I turned to face the crowd behind me. I began to introduce myself and was quickly embraced by warm welcomes. One male student named Rory, a Management Information Systems major, had traveled from Connecticut and was also new to the Japanese language. Emma, who had traveled from Kansas, was studying Pre-Veterinary Medicine and had previously taken one Japanese language course. Chelsey was another Connecticut-native who had been focusing on East-Asian Studies prior to traveling to Japan. Marcus came from New Orleans, where he majored in English at Tulane University. Finally, Skyler, a young woman from Kentucky, had decided to apply her background in East-Asian Studies by living and studying in Japan.

In an instant, my anxieties wore away. My comfort came in discovering our differences - something that so many fear. We were all in this journey together, and we would all help each other through our triumphs and tribulations.

The bus pulled away from the curb and drove across the access bridge that connected the airport to the mainland. I focused intently on my surroundings. The night sky, illuminated by millions of city lights, appeared to be on fire. We snaked through a maze of highway ramps before reaching the main highway. I noticed well-lit neighborhood streets and cozy homes tucked against the hillsides lining the bay. Outside the bus, everything seemed so quiet and still. Inside the bus, the only noise heard over the engine's hum was an occasional snore. I can't sleep! I'll miss everything!

I'll never forget the moment I first saw the Osaka skyline. Skyscrapers with hundreds of windows and red flashing lights stood in great contrast with the moonless night sky. A large, multi-colored Ferris wheel spun in the foreground. Despite the sleepy neighborhoods, the city was alive. What a humbling sight. It marked the the pinnacle of achievements by the people of Japan - the harmonious coexistence of nature, traditional culture, and modern-day life. During my time in Japan, I would come to realize that such harmony was significant in every facet of Japanese life.

I am home.

Memores Acti Prudentes Futuri - Interlude: Osaka Time Lapse Courtesy of Paul Hillier

Memores Acti Prudentes Futuri - Part III: Dreaming of the Osaka Sun

Friday, 23 January 2009 - As Northwest Airlines flight 69 continued to climb skyward, I turned my attention to the television monitor several rows forward of where I was seated. I noticed the planned flight route drawn out on the monitor. We were heading north-northwest toward Hudson Bay. I looked out the window and watched the high clouds streak by. The sky was clear but showed evidence of a sunset only a few hours away.

We continued northwestward, gliding through the skies over the western shore of Hudson Bay. Three hours down, eleven to go. The cabin was quiet as most passengers seized the opportunity to take a long nap. While most window shades were drawn, the shade attached to the window at my right remained open, affording me the chance to watch the sky transition from brilliant blue to yellow and orange. As the sun continued to set, a thin line of orange, red, and pink appeared on the horizon. Stars became visible as we continued our northwestward trajectory toward the northern Canadian provinces. My tired eyes could not stay open any longer, and as one of the flight attendants paced up and down the aisle next to me, I drifted to sleep.

I awoke to a jolt as the aircraft encountered some turbulence. A movie played on the forward monitor, and passengers on either side of me were sound asleep. A flight attendant wearing a dark blue uniform offered me some 緑茶 (ryoku-cha; green tea). I willingly accepted her offer and turned my gaze back to the window as she moved by. There was but a hint of daylight on the horizon as Northwest Airlines flight 69 traversed the skies of northern Alaska.

I decided to stand up and peer out the aft starboard exit on the right side of the aircraft. I noticed rugged, snow-covered mountains below. There was not a hint of life. What a beautiful planet. At what other time could I appreciate such beauty? I quietly returned to seat 54G and fastened my seatbelt. I looked at my watch. Eight hours down, six to go. I drifted back to sleep.

Saturday, 24 January 2009 - I awoke to brilliant sunshine peaking through the window to my right. Three hours had already passed, and it was an entirely different day as the aircraft had crossed the International Date Line. I stood up and made my way back to the window at the aft starboard exit. A thick overcast obscured the water below. I turned my attention to the forward monitor to note the position of the aircraft. We were over the Northwest Pacific, not far from the coast of Siberia's Kamchatka Peninsula. I returned to my seat and watched as the aircraft drew closer to 北海道 (Hokkaido). With a little over an hour left to go, I felt great excitement well up in my core. I'm almost there!

The aircraft began to descend through the broken clouds over the main island of 本州(Honshu). For the first time in hours, I caught site of land. I CAN SEE JAPAN! I could not wrap my mind around the thought of reaching the Sun Origin Country. The aircraft banked left as the flight attendants requested the return of all passengers to their assigned seats. I observed the rolling hills and mountains below, the tall power lines that stretched to seemingly nowhere, and the occasional small city that appeared in the middle of vast, open fields.

As Northwest Airlines flight 69 continued to descend, I noticed a large body of water lined with high-rise structures. I looked at the monitor and realized that I was seeing Osaka Bay and the cities of Kobe and Osaka. The sun reflected off the bay as the aircraft banked right and lined up with Kansai International Airport's runway 24L. I paid attention to the breaking waves in Osaka Bay as the engines roared and the aircraft briefly ascended. The Osaka Sun sat low on the horizon, shining its rays through the cabin windows and illuminating the interior of the aircraft. It appeared that all passengers had shifted their attention to the nearest windows as the aircraft gradually descended.

After a few bumps and jolts, the airport was visible. I held my breath as we glided over the runway 24L threshold. THUD - the aircraft touched down around 5:30pm local time, and with its spoilers deployed and engine thrust in reverse, slowed to a crawl. I looked out the window as my eyes filled with tears. I've made it.

Eight months ago, I had a dream that I would one day travel to this island nation. My dream drew closer to reality with each passing day as I fought hard to convince my family, friends, and professors that I could handle this journey. My dream is NOW a reality. What is the point of dreaming if one is not willing to take risks to transform his or her dreams into realities?

As I conclude this post, I am reliving the raw emotions that accompanied my arrival in Japan. I feel as if I am sitting on the aircraft as it is pulling into the gate. I feel as if my life in Japan is about to begin.

The next few posts will not go day-by-day, but rather will detail the many great experiences I had while studying at 関西外国語大学 and traveling in 日本国. To the audience, both domestic and international, thank you for your support. I would undoubtedly write this for myself regardless of viewership, but your commitment to reading my posts has made this experience incredibly fulfilling. I hope that my memories have inspired or will inspire you to dare to dream and strive to achieve.

夢 - Yume - Dream - Dreams are today's answers to tomorrow's questions.