8 months in, 4 months out
Let's get personal today on Emily's blog. I am here to announce that I am leaving Japan in August, official and everything. I am going, but strangely, I still have 4 months left. I will get to the whole 'reasons' part of why I'm only here for a year later, but first, let me tell you about how this whole moving to Japan thing has really messed with my perception of time.
Anyway, 4 more months until I see your dumb face again New Zealand. I hope you feel a palpable positive shift in the general vibe with my homecoming. Because I am for sure going to feel a palpable positive shift in myself.
At various points over the last 8 months, my time here has felt like it will be over in an instant, and other times felt like it will never end. I look through photos and archived instagram stories and I think 'wow, that thing happened three months ago?', with 3 months emphasised as being short, or long, depending on the context. People saying 'wow you're only there a year', or when I'm planning for last destinations to get to in Japan before leaving, it does feel so short. But then I think, oh I have 4 months left, it feels like such a long time. It's a third of a year. The time between me finding out I was leaving and actually leaving was about 4 months, and so much happened in that time. 4 months is arguably a long time, but also somehow it's perceived to be a short time? From me sitting here right now, 6 hours (and so when I can leave to go home and eat nachos and drink wine with a cute boy) feels like a long time. It's all contextual.
The weather has also affected my perception of time. Somehow, it feels like winter has not only frozen the landscape, but frozen time. It's April now, and apart from a couple of balmy days at the end of March, it has just remained what feels to me to be a constant freezing. There's still snow on the mountains. Even though we had what was deemed to be a 'mild' winter, it's still fucking cold. Colder than New Zealand. And just long, and exhausting. I want to go outside and feel the sun on my skin. I want climactic evidence that it will get warmer, not just looking at the plum blossoms and being told 'spring is coming!!!' It. Still. Feels. Cold. It feels like it was an age ago that I felt warmth, and feels like an age until it will be warm again.
I guess this gets to the whole meta of lifetimes. I won't go too deep here, but as of me leaving I'll have been here for 1 year of my life. I lived for a year in England as a child and that seems extremely inconsequential to me (though that also relates to the distance of the time; I lived in England 22 years ago). I spent 5 years at university. 11 at school. I spent 20 years living in New Zealand. 1 compared to all these other numbers is small. But, at the same time, does that make it insignificant? I'm learning a second language, I know (vaguely) how to live in a different culture. I feel like I am getting deeper into Japan and its culture and language and quirks. The longer I'm here, the deeper I get. Time makes you stickier to the space you are in, which makes it a lot more difficult to un-stick yourself when it inevitably comes to leaving. Mmm, space-time. Sticky sticky space-time.
However, me leaving after one year is not a protective measure against my feelings, against not getting too attached; though it is a worthy and important point. But this concept of being 'stuck' or 'deep' in living somewhere is relevant, as I have been un-sticking myself from New Zealand by acclimatising to Japan. Doing this, being away from home, makes you realise what you love about it. The bits you don't want to un-stick yourself from. The deep pockets of attachment to where you come from that you can't let go. I have never stopped missing New Zealand since I got here.
To go further with this, but not too far, there are aspects of my life in New Zealand and the New Zealand lifestyle that I miss deeply. I miss my friends and family. I miss cafe culture. Going for a walk out in the bush on a whim, preceded by eggs on toast with roasted tomatoes and a delicious soy latte, found without having to look up a good cafe that does such fare because such cafes are everywhere. I miss (in some situations) the kiwi attitude of 'she'll be right' when faced with organising something for work, or planning an activity. I miss the sounds of tuis in the kowhai trees, and the delight of seeing a piwakawaka flitting about. I built my life up in New Zealand over 20 years. I have grown and molded with the culture, with my experiences. They are deeply rooted in me, of course these are things that are hard to let go.
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| I took this photo 3 months ago!? Also, the mountain still looks like this. Sa-fucking-mui. |
The weather has also affected my perception of time. Somehow, it feels like winter has not only frozen the landscape, but frozen time. It's April now, and apart from a couple of balmy days at the end of March, it has just remained what feels to me to be a constant freezing. There's still snow on the mountains. Even though we had what was deemed to be a 'mild' winter, it's still fucking cold. Colder than New Zealand. And just long, and exhausting. I want to go outside and feel the sun on my skin. I want climactic evidence that it will get warmer, not just looking at the plum blossoms and being told 'spring is coming!!!' It. Still. Feels. Cold. It feels like it was an age ago that I felt warmth, and feels like an age until it will be warm again.
I guess this gets to the whole meta of lifetimes. I won't go too deep here, but as of me leaving I'll have been here for 1 year of my life. I lived for a year in England as a child and that seems extremely inconsequential to me (though that also relates to the distance of the time; I lived in England 22 years ago). I spent 5 years at university. 11 at school. I spent 20 years living in New Zealand. 1 compared to all these other numbers is small. But, at the same time, does that make it insignificant? I'm learning a second language, I know (vaguely) how to live in a different culture. I feel like I am getting deeper into Japan and its culture and language and quirks. The longer I'm here, the deeper I get. Time makes you stickier to the space you are in, which makes it a lot more difficult to un-stick yourself when it inevitably comes to leaving. Mmm, space-time. Sticky sticky space-time.
However, me leaving after one year is not a protective measure against my feelings, against not getting too attached; though it is a worthy and important point. But this concept of being 'stuck' or 'deep' in living somewhere is relevant, as I have been un-sticking myself from New Zealand by acclimatising to Japan. Doing this, being away from home, makes you realise what you love about it. The bits you don't want to un-stick yourself from. The deep pockets of attachment to where you come from that you can't let go. I have never stopped missing New Zealand since I got here.
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| Kiwis found a Kiwi in Tokyo. NZ Pride is very strong. |
To go further with this, but not too far, there are aspects of my life in New Zealand and the New Zealand lifestyle that I miss deeply. I miss my friends and family. I miss cafe culture. Going for a walk out in the bush on a whim, preceded by eggs on toast with roasted tomatoes and a delicious soy latte, found without having to look up a good cafe that does such fare because such cafes are everywhere. I miss (in some situations) the kiwi attitude of 'she'll be right' when faced with organising something for work, or planning an activity. I miss the sounds of tuis in the kowhai trees, and the delight of seeing a piwakawaka flitting about. I built my life up in New Zealand over 20 years. I have grown and molded with the culture, with my experiences. They are deeply rooted in me, of course these are things that are hard to let go.
Being here has also made me realise things about myself that aren't New Zealand specific, but are specific to my living situation. I am an extrovert who is really picky with who they are
friends with. I always thought I was an ambivert, but turns out that I need social interaction with people I legitimately enjoy and care about to give me energy. I also need to be busy. There's not much to do around
here. Being up close to the things you need makes it difficult to realise you need them, but now being separated from them, I have gained a perspective on myself that I never thought I'd have? I know so much more about myself by coming here and immersing myself in something COMPLETELY different. Which is good, I think. I've said to some friends back in New Zealand, by coming to Japan, I completely destroyed my concept of self, and now I have all the pieces I can build it back up in a different, better way.
I was so set on being here two years when I found out I was coming to Japan. However, the concept of time, and my emotional well-being, made it so that I decided to leave after one. Sure, it hasn't been the smoothest ride, but you learn so much about yourself by putting yourself somewhere you didn't choose. More and more people are slowly finding out about me leaving, and I tell them 'it was a difficult decision, but I have to leave'. And it was not an 'easy' decision as such. I felt like I was failing in a sense, not getting enough 'time' here. Time here as status, as legitimacy. But I will legitimately have been here for a year, and I am satisfied. I know what I want, and that's to go back home.
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| Start at the bottom or something. I think this photo just summarises so many feelings so well. |
I was so set on being here two years when I found out I was coming to Japan. However, the concept of time, and my emotional well-being, made it so that I decided to leave after one. Sure, it hasn't been the smoothest ride, but you learn so much about yourself by putting yourself somewhere you didn't choose. More and more people are slowly finding out about me leaving, and I tell them 'it was a difficult decision, but I have to leave'. And it was not an 'easy' decision as such. I felt like I was failing in a sense, not getting enough 'time' here. Time here as status, as legitimacy. But I will legitimately have been here for a year, and I am satisfied. I know what I want, and that's to go back home.
Anyway, 4 more months until I see your dumb face again New Zealand. I hope you feel a palpable positive shift in the general vibe with my homecoming. Because I am for sure going to feel a palpable positive shift in myself.
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