Sakaratte Yumei
To defy, go against, swim upstream… from the dream.
My mom, when asked once about my boys’ autism and that I am that…too, told me that “by the time you were 9, you were normal.” Her casual, off hand remark, as usual intended to ground me in practical matters. What does it matter, as an adult, if you feel different? You can hold a job or two, raise your kids, cook meals, maintain a house. In many ways doing more than is ever asked. So – how silly to ask such a question. Silliness is not worth the effort to form the thoughts. Life is about being practical, down to earth. *and she is right, my amazing and strong mother, my flights of fancy are not paying the bills or keeping food on the table*
As a child, I was different. By the time I was 9, my so called ‘normal’ period I was heavily bullied at school for being different. Weird eyes, weird thoughts, obsessive with sports, always trying to find friends and only ever really connecting with other odd and unusual kids or, preferably, four legged friends who never asked me to be more than who I was.
By the time I was a young teenager I simply yearned for escape. By then I was already wary of and unfortunately all to aware of adult men and their predilections; and though the worst was only yet to come, I had already experienced enough to set my dreams and thoughts on a darker trajectory. Bullies and their skillful methods had me more and more alienated from other kids. I simply wasn’t interested in what other girls were at that point, and changed my focus to academics, playing my violin, and loving life out of the gaze of others.
However. However. However. I still loved and believed in people – I just didn’t understand them. So I studied, and read, and wrote long essays as I attempted to understand the humans around me and what made us what we are. I began trying to understand global affairs, cultural differences, and dreamed that maybe someone as small as me could make a difference in the world and effect peace – my natural response to bullies was to try and find a way to make their existence futile because of course the world should be good… I believed I could find that solution.
Imagine that. Little me. Just wanting to bring peace to others, imagining deeply every day that people just needed to understand each other more. I truly believed it was possible.
My ambitious self caught the eye of a teacher who I initially hated for his insistence I need to meet a higher standard than my peers in my academics. Through his support and connections, I was sent first to China and later on to Japan where I finished high school. The journey to both of these countries, for me, was an uphill learning curve of language, culture, worldviews, lifestyles, and so much more.
While I was in Japan interesting seeds that I only now am beginning to appreciate were given.
Seeds: I lived in a Tao Buddhist household that was anti-Christian. I was informed before leaving the airport that I was not to attempt anything Christian, including prayer, while there. A demand I shrugged off… I will forever remember my history instructor there, he spoke English and tutored me in the library of our school, a cold, unheated, concrete room that still makes my teeth chatter at the memory of my little school kilt and knee socks; he wore warm tweed suits, had teeth long blackened from heavy tobacco use, and always smelled strongly of a pungent mix of tobacco, whisky and coffee. I remember him whispering to me animatedly that he was a Christian. At the time, I did not understand at all the risk he was taking in outing himself to me in that way, nor had I yet begun to learn the history of Christianity in Japan.
and more Seeds: While there I made a bit of a name for myself as an astute student when it came to ancient poetry. A recommendation was made to teach me Sumie – Japanese Calligraphy – a funny bit of irony if you were to see my penmanship. But I took to it like a wilted flower takes to fresh water. I studied diligently and passionately. I produced beautiful poems and essays under the careful tutelage of my weekly instructor, learning to grind my own inks, buying good quality brushes, and filling a binder after binder of paintings. A gift for my 18th birthday was a gift of a book of calligraphy styles going back a thousand years and at the end of my time there my instructor asked me if I could paint my own thoughts, define myself, what would I paint?
I spent weeks studying. Trying to define an illusive thought that kept shimmering through my mind, periodically allowing me to glimpse a shape, a shadow, a formed thought. I chose two words – Saka and Yume, puzzling everyone who knew me. Why would I chose such odd words to combine? Saka, only a partial word of a larger phrase meaning to go against the greater flow, and Yume, meaning dream. What could I mean?
At different eras of my life from that time, I have tried to define it for the phrase is as meaningful for me today as it was then. Over the years. I have often just used secular or spiritual language to try and pin down this slippery phrase that my young mind pulled together. That life never seemed to meet my own expectations. That I was forever dreaming of a future that could never, ever be mine – no matter how hard I worked, how smart I was, how many people I met, how many scholarships I earned, how many jobs I took on – I could not achieve the dreams that remained forever out of reach. Eventually my dreams were broken, raped by a man I barely knew when I fell asleep at a fourth of July party while interning in DC (I didn’t drink or do drugs); I lost my scholarships for no reason other than my family had received a raise the previous year – but were not financially supporting me; I returned home in shame, so lost I developed bronchitis for 8 months; working full time, attempting to finish school, stumbling through life that was dark and meaningless… eventually I met the man who would become my husband – he made me laugh. His charm and his talent with craftsmanship his only redeeming qualities…. he defined two decades of my life in many ways. My children my only joy keeping me anchored.
…as my mental health declined under the weight of an abusive marriage and the expectations that come with that, the Seeds from God continued and continued – coming to a point where God’s attempt to bring me back to him could no longer be ignored as one day, kilometres from home where I was hiking in the wilderness, as the first snowflakes of the year fell upon my upturned face, I heard His voice like a bell in my mind calling me home.
Fast forward a bit…
Today I had the privilege of attending the Upper Room conference in Vancouver. A beautiful day, bluebird skies, a delicate fall wind keeping us cool. Amazing speakers.
And as I listened to one of the speakers read out quotes from the book ‘From Christendom to Apostolic Mission’, I was reminded of the day I painted that Sumie Painting. Saka. Yume. To dream. To go against. To fight uphill. Energetically. To fight to get to truth. To remember there is a truth.
And I realized, even then, long before the hardest days of my journey were anywhere close, God was planting little seeds. Fertilizing my mind for what was to come some day, long into the future.
…
What do you think? If you pray and reflect, has God planted seeds in your mind throughout your life? We are His children, and I am realizing that even when we’re not actively seeking Him, he is always and forever planting little hints in front of us to return to him; a flower might fall, a butterfly catch our eye and pull our gaze to the sunlight, a breeze spring up and caress our cheeks while we’re deep within the forest, an inspiration to paint or draw, or find connection in scripture or relate to a story an author shares with us.
If all of life is about finding ways to return to God and bring all of our siblings with us, then it makes sense that at every point in our lives, from the darkest to the brightest, there are helpers, there are hints, there are dust motes of hope flitting about waiting for our gaze to land upon them, take a deep breath and start again.
His Name after is Yahweh… Inhale. Exhale. Breathe and know that He is God.
Keep dreaming. The flow doesn’t matter. Fight anyway.
Much love to you all, on this day and every day going forward.