Muddy Puddle

I needed to stop and think about what it is I like about Japan. It seems that this island has sort of taken over and become our home. How does that happen? I was thinking today while driving through one of the busier towns on the way to Olivia's Karate Class that I remembered the first time we drove that road and how OVERWHELMED I felt - not knowing where we were, how to get from here to there etc. AND, all the sudden, here we are relatively comfortable (I say relatively because I still have days when I drive my big van down a little Japanese road and wonder if I (or the van) are going to make it out unscathed), driving opposite normal and really not phased by the incredible amounts of Kanji writing everywhere.

Today Alessandra and I walked Olivia to the bus stop and then took a run/jog on the beach walk and I kept thinking - HOW CAN THIS FEEL SO NORMAL? Like all along I have been doing it forever (the beach part, not the painful jog). We ran into people that we know at the store (and we really do not know that many people). We picked up Olivia and a friend for the 1/2 day off of school (yes, a playdate with a friend - this is really home!). We went to Karate and she looks like she knows what she is doing (and she wasn't the newest one in the class anymore). We got wet in a sudden downpour and didn't even blink (or run to cover), just touseled our hair, shook off and waited to dry. Since when did this become normal?

It is funny to me as I think back to each move we have made and how different each of them have been. They have all been equally wonderful, painful, exciting, and terrifying. This one tops the largest in range of emotions for me. Never have I felt so far away from family and friends (but so incredibly able to be in touch with you all due to technology). Never have I felt so fortunate to meet new friends who are in the EXACT same situation as me at the same time. Never have I felt such incredible pressure to make the move smooth and as easy as possible for others (kids that is). Never have I lived in such a gorgeous place.

It is all a muddy puddle (which probably helps me rectify that temporary insanity that I feel day to day with still just not having it all together). The light at the end of the tunnel is that the sunshine is out (metaphorically speaking, we are getting the rainy part of the typhoon off of Taiwan) and the puddle is drying and someday soon, I won't be able to claim that I haven't been here long at all.