When I was complaining yesterday about weird feelings about Home, I ought to have been counting my blessings. I got to hear about what it’s like to really feel out of place from my dear friend Kat, who I got to see for 16 hours for the first time in a year and a half, and whom I have missed like you don’t even know.
Kat’s been living in rural Japan since she graduated from college, working on a cooperative farm as a mission intern.
Her emails to me during that time were so amazing, you have no idea…all about our place in the world, the politics of food production, vision for egalitarian society. She would tell me about the rice harvest, or about living in intense community, going to India for a peace and poverty conference. And the best part is, she would never tell lies about “the simple life on the farm;” myths about which I am especially prone in a Year In Provence sort of way. She talked a lot yesterday about eating only what you can grow, and trying to keep some really old computers running, and the challenges of living in community with people from many different cultures, and cooking together, and just the everydayness of her past eighteen months. Like dogs ate a bunch of their ducks, which they use to eat weeds in the rice fields, or about the different dances she learned when they had parties, or about visiting Hiroshima. I was blown away by everything. I’m not going to say “that’s really real life, the kind of life I have here in the richest country in the world is just a surface sham type of deal,” because I know it’s not true. But I sort of felt that way while she was talking. She’s getting ready to go to her next volunteer post and I was three-quarters of the way ready to pack up some serviceable shoes and go with her. I didn’t, though. I just accepted the tons of beautiful presents she brought me and tucked her into the futon and was so happy she was back.
One thing we talked about a lot was the idea of “mission.” Kat is really into the idea of the personal mission statement…not in a cheesy corporate way, I don’t think. I mean she has come away from her experience really focused on what she wants her life to mean, what the large goal of her existence is. She was telling me about everything she wants to do, and I felt so small and flighty listening to her…she asked me at one point what I wanted to be doing career-wise (hint: not what I’m doing now!) and I couldn’t even answer her, because of course I don’t know. If there is anyone more pathetically pathetic than someone who has spent a whole lot of money on education because they just sort of like school, and then graduates with a ton of student loan and has to rationalize what they’re doing, I wish someone would tell me, as I would very much like to meet this person and commiserate. Mission statement indeed.
And it’s not just school and work, it’s everything. I remain really unsure about my relationship with Carl, what role I want my family to play in my life, my political stance (okay, I have some idea about that: moving slowly and inexorably to the left, inch by inch), where I want to live, social responsibiltiy issues, spirituality, everything. I was just so impressed that Kat had such a strong focus. And I was also impressed at all the lovely presents she brought me, let me reiterate. And suddenly, that’s about all I have to say about that.
Now, onto a completely different subject, lest all you non-existent readers out there think I do nothing but think about myself all day, let me assure you that I did do something else this rainy Seattle Sunday. I cooked! Yup! Challah french toast for breakfast, vegetable-lentil stew and lemon-anise biscotti for dinner. Everything came out pretty well, thank you for asking. I occasionally get in these moods where I want to cook a lot. You know how it is. As soon as I’m finished writing this, I’m going to go vacuum my house, at which news anyone who knows me will surely faint with surprise.
The other thing I have to tell you is that one of the cats who technically belongs over here at Carl’s house (next door to me) but secretly loves me best was sitting on my leg for the duration of most of this entry..she took off when I started talking about mission statements or whatever. Nonetheless, it was highly satisfying to have her oversee my little writing project. Hi Spike! (Her name is Spike. She is the brains of a brother-sister cat team, which is not saying much, sadly. Her brother, Siegfried, is the not-brains). If you thought I talk a lot about my mom, then wait till you hear me re: the cats. But not right now.
I just have one more thing to tell you. Yesterday after Kat left I was all inspired by her and so I sat down to write some goals for the next year, or two years, or however long it takes. I don’t like to call them resolutions because, um, I’m not very resolved. Anyway, want to know what the first one was?
1) Figure out life.
Welcome back Kat! I’m so glad I can talk to you on the phone now! Thanks for my new necklace and jacket! I love you!