Kansai Gaidai Acceptance

To the reader:

At 12:22am EST on Thursday, November 20, 2008, I was officially accepted into the East Asian Studies program at Kansai Gaidai University. I received the email shortly after 12:30am EST, after returning to my room from the University Library. Around 1:00am EST, I sent my confirmation email to Kansai Gaidai informing them that I will be participating in their program.

This is wonderful news that has come on the heels of a rocky month. It is moments like this that make life so exciting and worth living. No matter how rough everything may seem, there is always hope and promise.

Once again, at 12:22am EST on Thursday, November 20, 2008, I was officially accepted to the East Asian Studies program at Kansai Gaidai University, and I could not be more proud to share this with every one of you.

Sincerely yours,

Lawrence Christian Gloeckler, III

Lifetime Commitment

Last week was a slow uphill battle. Stress from the past few weeks was mounting and becoming almost unbearable. My schedule was becoming jammed and I was beginning to feel the real pressures of college. I was sleep deprived and cranky. I think I snapped at people more than a few times. The resulting guilt led me to pour out apologies more than a few times. I was also facing a few person issues which were later put to rest.

November 10th to 14th was my lowest point this semester, and the lowest point I had reached in a while. I considered getting in my car and driving away more than a few times. I became distant from everyone and I began to isolate myself as the week wore on. I was slowly slipping into a state of depression. My emotional stress was causing me physical harm as well. I was exhausted and edging closer to illness.

Last Friday, I attended a party that would end up becoming focused around me. After drinking a bit too much wine and beer (and vomiting most of it out of my system), I became uncharacteristically depressed. I cannot remember much about what happened between my last recollection of vomiting and waking up in tears on the couch. I can recall myself releasing all of my energy in the form of tears. I remember speaking about everything that was adversely affecting me at that time. I remember speaking about my homosexuality. I clearly recall telling everyone my "coming out" story. I remember telling everyone that if they don't accept me for who I am then they're unfortunately missing out and what a shame that would be.

I know I gave a lot of insight into my life that evening. I helped people see me as a great person. I remember saying that I am still the ラリーちゃん they all know me as. I am not to be thought of as gay. Homosexuality does not define me. It defines my sexual preference, but that is it's uppermost limit. I am not ゲイラリーちゃん。わたしはラリーちゃんです。And that is who I will forever be.

I sometimes feel that there is an internal trait that a lot of people lack. I sometimes feel that I lack this trait. I've been missing key components of this trait until recently. I think this trait involves viewing things realistically and being committed to oneself. Although not impossible, I think it would be hard to be committed to oneself with being realistic about oneself. I haven't been committed to my true self recently. This doesn't stem from me being unrealistic about myself, my goals, or my expectations. Sometimes it simply stems from a fear of facing a particular truth. In my case, it was the fear of rejection, which has been a truth for nearly three years now.

Quoting one of my favorite people on this planet, "It's okay though." Without holding a commitment to who you are, you cannot fully develop yourself or relationships with others. The strongest commitment comes with facing the frightening truths of life. Rejection scares me, but I'm not at fault for it. Others cannot be controlled.

To the reader: I challenge you to examine yourself and discover the truths that scare you most. I challenge you to face these truths head-on and become committed to the person you are. It is a lifetime commitment and one well worth the invested energy.

I should be hearing from Kansai Gaidai in the near future. Upon learning my fate, I will update my blog. がんばる！

Not All Was Lost

I think it is reasonable to say that October was somewhat of a lost month. I went in a bit over my head with many things, and I was dragged into a lot of nonsense that haunted me for a while. I won't go into details about what happened, but I'll say that I am now a better person for pushing through everything.

Not all was lost during October. I finished my Kansai Gaidai application and submitted it to the Office of International Education at UAlbany. I also applied for a scholarship that I hope to receive before I leave for Japan. The scholarship is run through the Association of Teachers of Japanese, which is based on the University of Colorado campus in Boulder, Colorado. If I am chosen to receive this scholarship, I will get $2500.00 for my studies in Japan. Considering the shape of the US and global economies, any sum of money would help a great deal.

It's also important to note that I reached a milestone in my life last month. I turned 20 on October 22nd, marking my leap from adolescence into more or less adulthood. At least I have come of age in Japan, which will be nice once I arrive there. There isn't much that I miss about my teenage years. They were marked by a lot of immaturity and naivety, which resulted in a lot of drama. I'm not a huge fan of drama, so it's nice to be able to take what I can out of my adolescence and leave the rest behind. Fortunately, memorable friendships and experiences held significance through those years, so not all was lost.

I look forward to hearing back from Kansai Gaidai in the not-too-distant future. I am excited and anxious to receive a letter from them. While it seems likely that I will be admitted to their program, there is always a chance that I will be reject. This uncertainty is what makes life worth living. I think I'm going to value these moments much more in the future. It is these moments that make you feel most alive.

Warmth

Heavy dark clouds loomed over the landscape as I sped southward on Interstate 87 towards New York City. Nothing about the scenery seemed particularly welcoming. I felt no sense of warmth as I peered at the bright red and orange foliage lining the roadway. My mood was dark. In fact, as if that dictated my surroundings, everything became darker as the miles to Manhattan rapidly whittled away. Anxiety began to take hold, but I couldn't think of any clear-cut explanation for this. I began to fear that my busy weekend was going to be marked with regret.

As I pulled up to the corner of West 48th Street and 8th Avenue, a heavy mist set in. Large crowds of people were rushing to seemingly nowhere. The grey asphalt was noticeably greyer than usual. The surrounding skyscrapers looked more ominous today. They disappeared into the low-hanging clouds, giving the illusion that they continued on for miles. The air was warm and clean, but the mist stung as I entered the hotel lobby on West 48th Street. I felt removed from everything. It was as if I was peering into a display case--my display case.

A blonde-haired woman at the reception desk began to speak to me. I was only able to listen to bits and pieces of what she was saying. I felt burdened by something, and her words were only adding to it.

"Life goes so quickly," she said. "My mother has Hepatitis C. Her liver is failing. It came out of nowhere. She never did drugs. She was an honest woman...a caring individual. It absolutely kills me. Make sure to respect those who hold value in your life, because one day you'll wake up and they'll be gone."

I was relieved when I finally reached my room. 314 marked the doorway about one third of the way down. The numbers seemed very imposing--almost uninviting. As I entered the oddly-shaped room, my head became heavier. I immediately made a bee-line for the far bed, but I paused in front of the window for a moment. I was nervous to peak outside as I feared a poor view of nothing. Sure enough, I was right. At that moment, it only seemed fitting to sleep. It seemed like the safest way to escape reality.

I awoke to four beeps. I grabbed my cell phone to read a new text message. It read: Leave earlier and get here before 5.30! It was from my friend Danny. He had been a romantic interest at one point, but he now maintained his position as a close friend of mine. There was a sudden movement next to me. My friend who had been snoring one minute earlier had rolled over and pushed me to the very edge of the twin bed.

I stood up quickly to avoid falling. My vision dimmed as my blood pressure dropped. I felt foggier than before. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to nap. I felt like I had left myself back in Albany. My stomach flipped at the thought of meeting Danny again. I knew I was not at my best and that certainly didn't help my anxiety.

The heavy mist transitioned into a steady moderate rain as I walked towards the subway stop at West 49th Street and 7th Avenue. It was very warm and humid yet I was chilled to the bone. My intuition was telling me that something was off. I ignored it and pushed on towards the platform.

I stepped out into the elements at West 14th Street and 7th Avenue. It was time to speak to Danny for the first time in months. I dialed his number and waited. An unfamiliar voice sounded on the other end. Was this Danny or had I dialed the wrong number? It only took me a moment to recognize his tone. Had I been expecting someone else? I felt uneasy as I arrived at our planned meeting spot in Union Square.

The park seemed more crowded than usual. Again, everyone seemed to be rushing to get to nowhere. I turned to face my friend, Brian, who had accompanied me to the meeting. "I'm not sure how I feel about this," I said. "He sounded different, like hes gone through a drastic change. I only saw him two and a half months ago. That's a short time for such change." I noticed a hint of concern in his face.

The wait seemed endless. The rain had stopped but the clouds had lowered and thickened. A fog was beginning to shroud the surrounding streets. Finally my phone rang. "I think I see you. Turn around," said Danny's changed voice. I turned to face uncertainty. At that moment, my anxiety melted away. There stood the Danny I had always known. There were some notable differences, but I couldn't have mistaken him for anyone else.

He cast a new energy. He was more vibrant than I could remember. I embraced him for a few moments. He smelled the same. His voice had changed a bit. It held a happier tone. His face looked relaxed and he appeared to be very comfortable. I experienced a wave of joy as I realized how much he had grown in the few short months since I had last seen him.

My visit with Danny only lasted about an hour, but as I embraced him again and thanked him for his time, I felt rejuvenated. Never had I been so proud to see one of my friends grow so much. I looked up at the sky that filled the space between the glass and steel giants of Manhattan. The fog had lifted. The mist and rain had stopped. There was a break in the clouds overhead. "Damn" was all I could muster up at that moment.

***

One of my favorite feelings is one that accompanies reuniting with an old friend or lover. It's the result of the anticipation and the reality of standing face-to-face with that particular person. I stood face-to-face with Danny this weekend in what I can only describe as one of my finer moments. I felt my face glowing in his presence. During that visit I reached an epiphany. My values--who and what I value in my life--became much clearer. Change is a good thing. It brings about new meaning. It would be an injustice to humankind to prevent such change from occurring.

After I left Danny, I thought back to the times I would lie next to him and feel his warmth. That is my favorite feeling. Whenever there exists a physical connection between two people, the resulting warmth could melt every glacier on this planet in an instant. I miss that feeling, but I know it will return someday. Times have certainly changed and Danny and I no longer hold a romantic connection, but man, his warmth is stronger than ever.

***

As I pulled up to the Dutch Quad parking lot at UAlbany, a blonde-haired woman appeared in my mind. She was speaking of respect and valuing those who hold significance in my life. I turned off the car and looked across the parking lot. I took a deep breath. A steady rain was falling but the visibility was good. I exhaled and relaxed. I looked down at the empty seat next to me. The blonde-haired woman reappeared in my mind. Her face was warm and inviting and her voice was soothing. She spoke of a bright future. "Damn" was all I could muster up at that moment.

Faith

There have been more than a few recent events that have made me question my faith in others. I feel that I may hold too much faith in certain people. Until recently, I didn't understand that it was possible to pour too much faith into a significant person. Now, it's a hard reality that's beginning to set in.

Maybe my intentions were misunderstood. Perhaps my friendship was mistaken for something more than that. I have never befriended another human being simply out of concern for his or her well-being or out of pity. I am outgoing, but I chose my friends wisely. I befriend people whose company I can enjoy. They're people whom I can relate to. I am able and willing to confide in them. Sometimes it only takes a short time to grow a strong connection with an individual. Sometimes it only takes a short time to develop a great deal of care for another human being. Sometimes the greatest relationships peak at good friendships.

It is exhausting to care for someone who is disrespectful. It doesn't matter if someone is disrespectful to a you or a friend, or even a stranger. It's painful to witness and nearly impossible to ignore. I do not allow people to take advantage of me. I try to steer clear of conditional friendships. I do things for my friends and family that I'm not forced to do. I lend a hand when help is needed. Although I hope that the favor will someday be returned, it's not a requirement. Even so, I don't hesitate to say no.

The hardest realization that I have come to accept is that nine times out of ten, a disrespectful person is a good individual who is hiding behind a façade. The only way to truly help someone like this is by not helping at all; instead, it's better to stand in the background for support. I haven't yet decided what to do, but at this point, it seems a lot easier to deal with the pain of losing someone significant than it seems to deal with the pain of disrespect. On the other hand, nothing worthwhile is easy. I believe you and I believe in you. I will continue to hold my faith for now, but at this rate, not forever. I care tremendously. You're no greater than or less than a good friend, and I hope that you'll begin to realize that.

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.

Without Expectation

I'll speak for the masses when I say that life is full of unexplained twists and turns. The most rewarding things turn up when least expected. They become elusive when sought after. They flow smoothly when embraced without resistance, and they become jagged when questioned.

It's natural to seek meaning in everything that surrounds us. It has been the main objective of humankind since the days of Plato and Aristotle to place meaning on everything ranging from human behavior to natural disasters. In fact, Aristotle argued that nature intended us to find reason in situations that seemingly had no solutions. This argument became the foundation for modern-day rhetoric. It's fascinating how we're all naturally driven to seek universal truths, but what if there isn't a universal truth for everything?

Human behavior seems to lie in this gray area. Who is to say that Johnny's demeanor is more normal than Sally's? Who is to say that the variations in demeanor is normal? What if Johnny was robbed at gunpoint? Would it be considered normal for Sally to turn and run for protection? What if Sally decided to risk her life to save Johnny. Perhaps she's doing it for a noble cause. Is that normal? I realize the example is extreme, but it serves well for the purpose of this argument.

Dr. Alfred Kinsey (1894-1956) studied a specific part of human behavior that arguably holds no logical explanation. He focused on human sexuality in the United States during the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s and became regarded by many as the enabler of the sexual revolution during the 1960s. He was once quoted as saying that "diversity in life is an irreducible fact." While his research was rather complex, he was instrumental in raising the question of what humans consider to be normal. In the case of his research, he concluded that no two humans behave alike. Since we all vary greatly--here in terms of sexuality--how are we supposed to label what is normal? What becomes a good reference point? We make judgments based on what we perceive to be normal, which is often times based on our own behaviors, but isn't that biased?

This is what makes living worthwhile. Since there is no clear-cut way to universally define what is normal, why don't we just embrace all of the great things that cross our winding paths? Why don't we live the way we feel we should? I'm at a crossroads in my life right now where rewarding things are turning up each and every day. I'm meeting some outstanding people who are adding so much to my life. I'm involved in the campus community. I'm experiencing a level of energy that I haven't experienced in a long time. You'll realize that you maintain a level of importance if you simply embrace what has already turned up at your door. I've had many peaks in the past, but as I already mentioned, this peak surpasses any that I've experienced in many years. It comes with understanding. It comes with acceptance and self-realization. It's like a new chapter in your life. Watch the sunrise. View it any way you'd like. It's your own perceptions that make you unique and so outstanding.