Returning

Loving takes courage. To accept love takes courage too.

It’s been really amazing to return to my green hometown, and see and smell the lake again. It’s so peaceful here, there’s almost no sound at all during the evening hours. Occasional bird cries, and neighbour’s dog barks. After ten a clock it’s like entire nature goes to sleep.

It’s rather different from life in Yokohama.

People of this town live their lives embracing the routine of everyday life, close to the beautiful Finnish nature. They have their big sadness and sorrow, and biggest of happiness. They are not afraid to take eye contact when talking to you, even though you are clearly outsider; a person who visits the town less than once than year. Even if you speak foreign language in front of them, they won’t be afraid of you.

I guess these years in Japan have changed me. It’s funny that now since I’m foreigner I can actually feel closer to the people of my hometown. I don’t care what’s similar or different with Japan.  It’s truth that your hometown has kind of made you. So I must accept that I am always kind of part of this landscape, regardless of what I think, I just can’t escape that psychological fact.

Why do we always expect our hometown to stay the same, no matter how many years we are away? It’s because nothing else in our lives stay the same. Everything is changing. People get older, people fall in love, suffer, make children, divorce, grow, die. Trees are cut down,  and the old road is changing. New seeds are planted.

Only thing that remains same is love. It takes courage to accept that. It’s like national water system. The supply never runs out. Knowing how my own days are limited, I decided just to let go of attachment to the old. My family says they love me. I say, “right back at ya!”