Fall Away

At around nine o'clock last night I trekked arcross campus to visit my friend Spencer who was feeling a bit lonely. The moon was just breaking over the tree line. It looked ominous--almost distressed--as it hovered low, its eerie yellow façade seemingly poised to reach down and touch me. I knocked on Spencer's door, and within seconds a warm and welcoming face appeard on the other side. We began casually talking but soon ended up discussing everything ranging from our pasts to some of the challenges we are currently facing and where we envision ourselves in future years. I felt that I had a calming presence as I was able to share experiences with Spencer and build insight on the tragedies and triumphs of freshman year. I spoke of tremendous growth and promised better times ahead. At this point, I was his teacher--a guiding light.

As we were talking, we found ourselves face to face with the question when is enough, enough? What is the tipping point for a human being? How much can we let one particular thing eat away at our existence? We each shared a couple of stories regarding secrets that reached their tipping points. We discussed the resulting fall-outs from our releases. We argued about whether or not there exists a point in which a secret can no longer be maintained. We agreed based on our experiences and common sense that this point does exist, but it is more or less arbitrary.

We also discussed Japan in depth. At this point, it was Spencer's turn to teach. He spoke of unprecedented beauty and respect for others. He shared captivating stories of his travels to the island nation. "One time," he said, "I stopped to take a picture of a raccoon statue that represented good fortune for the Japanese people. My camera had gotten wet from the rain, so it wasn't working properly. It took me a long time to get it focused and ready for the picture. As I was about to snap the shot, I noticed something unusual out of the corner of my eye. I looked over and saw a traffic jam of people waiting for me to take the picture. Each person was smiling, and a few people even kindly waved. I took the picture and then waved them on." He was astounded by the kindness of these people. As I was listening, I felt chills run the length of my spine. "Something about that story was so beautiful," I said.

He also told me of a day he spent at a local Japanese high school. He found it very easy to bond with the students there. In one class, he heard the students repeating the phrase アームレスリソグ (aamu resurisogu: arm wrestle). "They were challenging me to an arm wrestling match. The entire class lined up for a chance to go against me. There was one big guy who gave me a good match. I was facing defeat, but I couldn't let that happen because I was representing our country. If I lost, our country lost. After the match, as I was saying goodbye to everyone, the big guy approached me and gave me a five yen coin. He explained to me that it represents a Japanese superstition. It means that I'll see him again someday, and that he'll never forget me, just as I'll never forget him." His eyes were glistening. I felt chills again.

We continued to discuss the beauty of Japan. I was speaking from what I had read and heard. He was speaking from personal experience. "You have no idea, Larry. You're going to return from Japan a different person." I was captivated. Of all Friday nights, this very well could have been my greatest. I found myself even more energized. I could tell Spencer felt the same way. Sometimes you can simply read a person through their eyes. As I left, I looked at Spencer and sensed great admiration. He didn't have to thank me. I could read it in his eyes.

I started the trek back to my room around quarter of two this morning. As I was walking, I peered up at a calmer moon. The night sky was peaceful and the air was crisp. As I focused straight ahead, I felt more hope for the future than I had in ages.