Kulcha

When I'm in Australia I'm bored and when I'm in Japan, I'm just too busy. The former state is brought on by my not having a job in teaching anymore and lots of time on my hands; the latter, by, well, just being in Japan. Everyone is busy here and if they have a gap in their planners, it will invariably be filled in short order.

I'm wondering when the Japanese, whose cultural history and artifacts suggest a great capacity for reflection, ever have time for this faculty. Or if they ever really did. Or if modern living has left them with no time at all. Its hard to say, but the distractions of the modern age are perhaps too many and too tempting. Who would prefer to wander the gardens of an old temple when they can tune in to 30 TV channels, five of which are showing baseball? Or to learn the koto or shamisan when pachinko and J-Pop are on offer?

The Japanese express surprise when foreigners (and forever we will be foreigners, alas!) show interest in the ephemera of Japanese culture, such as geisha and sumo. Why are you interested in shinto or want to learn calligraphy? Perhaps these kinds of questions arise from the notion that westerners, particular Americans and Australians, exist in a cultural desert. Of course, some do, but such an assumption ignores the pantheons of learning passed on since the Greeks. The great tradition of thinking that stretches back for two and a half millenia and which informs the modern mind. Or at least, should inform it.

During the cherry blossom season, Japanese gather under the boughs to celebrate the new but fragile flowers that bloom above their picnic mats. They spend much time just looking, observing the buds and the minutae of each blossom. Its wonderful just to watch them watching. That level of reflection is perhaps missing from everyday life here, if, for no other reason, than the fact that the schedule needs to be filled. And free time is wasted time. Change is always possible here, but only if, somewhat dangerously, the Japanese give themselves space to think in.