I cut my leg from shav­ing today.
It was a pretty big cut, and it stung dur­ing the rest of the shower and a bit after­wards. I was quite annoyed since it kept bleed­ing. Stu­pid cut and stu­pid blood. This day was going to be a bad day. I could feel it. I opened the news page on my com­puter as I sat down to put bandaid on my cut. And there it was.

One month anniver­sary of the biggest earth­quake to hit Japan.

Not that I’d for­got­ten about the earth­quake. I’ve been read­ing the news every­day since. Read­ing, look­ing at the pic­tures, watch­ing. But I did not real­ize it had been one whole month since. The dev­as­ta­tion I see on the news hasn’t changed. It’s as if the dis­as­ter hit yes­ter­day. The scenery of the rub­ble hasn’t changed, but I guess time kept mov­ing. One whole month.

On that very day one of my dear friends in Tokyo, whom I was able to com­mu­ni­cate through Face­book, said,

「まさか本当に震災経験すると思わなかった」*
“I never imag­ined I’d really expe­ri­ence an earth­quake disaster.”

Although I am from a part of Japan that does not get earth­quakes often, I know that lit­tle shakes here and there in most of Japan are com­mon. Peo­ple liv­ing in that coun­try are used to it. Big earth­quake dis­as­ters has hap­pened in the recent his­tory, but come on. Earth­quakes hap­pen so often, it’s no big­gie. Mod­ern day Japan is built to with­stand it. Earth­quake news are so often, I see it and say, meh, another one. My fam­ily and friends are fine.

I guess all sorts of records are bro­ken daily.
Some­thing new and sur­pris­ing will even­tu­ally hap­pen.
I guess that’s inci­den­tal from liv­ing within time that moves for­ward and changes.

I am very for­tu­nate to say no one I directly know was ter­ri­bly affected by this dis­as­ter.
My loved ones are all alive. Yes, their qual­ity of liv­ing has changed with the quake itself and after shakes and now the radi­a­tion prob­lem. But they’re alive and well. But know­ing they were directly a part of this nat­ural dis­as­ter scares me still. Gives me chills. It brings me to tears. I am afraid.

I want to tell them to come here. Move to Michi­gan. Away from the shakes. From the radi­a­tion.
But then, who’s to say noth­ing will hap­pen here? Any­thing is pos­si­ble, I guess.

I am a self­ish per­son, and read­ing the var­i­ous news from Japan I can­not stop think­ing about myself. How dev­as­tated would I be if I had lost my fam­ily and/or friend with this dis­as­ter? How would I be if I saw my loved one be washed away by the tsunami? How would I react if I saw my home turn into a pile of rub­ble with all my mem­o­ries and my ancestor’s mem­o­ries washed away? After los­ing every­thing, will I have the courage to move on? Or, would I have had the will and strength to lit­er­ally hold onto my life for 13.5 hours, while I watch bod­ies float­ing away around me?**

For­tu­nately, I didn’t have to answer any of these ques­tions.
For­tu­nately, I was not tested, for I fear I would have failed the test.
The cur­rent me is not enough — men­tally, phys­i­cally, spir­i­tu­ally, and any­thing else –ly.
The cur­rent me lets a razor cut make me think I’m hav­ing a bad day.
And that’s not enough. I want to become stronger so if some­thing should hap­pen I can have that strength in me to sur­vive and to help those around me survive.

I want to be some­one who can actu­ally help peo­ple, like those affected by this recent dis­as­ter, and not just sit in front of the news and cry.
Cry because I see their tears. Cry because I see their pain.
Cry because I am helpless.

I guess we will always be help­less in one way or another. But, as my future posts will reveal, I’m afraid I don’t have the strength to react and cope with those help­less situations.

But I am hope­ful that I have the abil­ity to change, as I am hope­ful that my coun­try will fully recover. Actu­ally I’m not hope­ful. Because I know. Japan has had some nasty stuff hap­pen to it — nat­ural and man­made. But we have always bounced back.

So, I slap my lit­tle razor cut. Meh. It’s not bad at all.
At least now my legs are silky smooth as the razor adver­tise­ment said.
And with my razor cut leg, I step for­ward to another day.
Because time has to move on. And so must I.

* Quoted A.I. One of my clos­est friends, and times like these really makes me real­ize how impor­tant you are to me.
**I wanted to link the arti­cle from Yahoo Japan about a man hold­ing on to a tele­phone pole for 13.5 hours dur­ing the tsunami, but the link I have was no longer work­ing. Sorry.