The Journey to Wa

Two out of the “three grandes dames of modern painting in the Americas,” had pet monkeys. Frida Kahlo’s primate was named Fulang-Chang and Emily Carr named hers Woo. I can’t say for certain whether Georgia O’Keeffe had one or not, but besides monster talent, I wonder if having a monkey was part of their secret club handshake?

For those of you who are reading The Everyday Anthropologist for the first time, Companion and I are planning on getting up in the middle of the night and flying to Japan. This trip has been 25 years and two months in the planning. Last week’s installment set up the trip, and for the next two weeks, it is my intention to write in spurts and bursts about where we are and what we’re doing.

Considering we’re going to the Land of Contrasts, a place of ancient traditions and cutting edge technology, we should be able to have access to a computer and the Internet, we just don’t know how often, so stay tuned…

Now, back to the monkeys. As an anthropologist, I’ve often teased that I’m part Simian-American, feeling a kinship with the almost-humans. When I was in Japan as a teenager, the effect I had on the people who had never encountered an American before was that of a chimpanzee in a dress. I was an amusement, an oddity, I mean, who wouldn’t laugh at a talking monkey? I was brought into their homes as a distraction, for entertainment.

Even though I was a curiosity, I fell in love, with the country and the people who opened up their homes and invited me into their lives. And here’s the thing I’m discovering about myself, when I meet and fall in like with somebody, I create a space for them in my heart. The outline is of their shape, their essence and they are the only ones who can fill it. Even if time or distance separate us, I hold space for them. In that capacity, I am fiercely loyal. It doesn’t matter how many other individuals I may encounter, their place in my heart is sacred.

As I mentioned before, the struggle I’m experiencing is trying to integrate the past with the present. I adored my sojourn in 1983 and my head keeps trying to inform me that this is 2009. Everybody and everything has changed.

Speaking of monkeys, didn’t Darwin have a catchy little phrase, something about the “survival of the fittest?” My impression about that has always been the iguana with the biggest bicep wins. But perhaps the notion has more to do with this fortune cookie wisdom, “He who adapts survives.”

Adaptability. Suddenly, the idea intrigues me. Do I possess the emotional intelligence that will allow me to live successfully in a particular environment? The strongest are not always those who are rigid, but those who are flexible. Wow, adaptable and flexible, not the first two words I would use to self-describe.

Japan, a country imbued with Buddhist and Shinto beliefs, infuses Zen coolness into just about everything. We’ve all heard of “monkey mind,” a Buddhist term illustrating a headspace that jumps from thought to thought like a monkey swinging from tree to tree.

The Japanese word for now, the present, is “Ima.” It’s a fun word to say, especially if you draw it out, “Eeeemmaaaaa.” It can easily be said in a Kermit the frog accent or in deep breathy Darth Vaderian. It is my new mantra, since I am currently in possession of a monkey mind. Mine is not content with existing in the present moment, but is much more fascinated with the unending stream of thoughts that pass through like a Mardi Gras parade.

Over the last few days, as I’ve explored my psyche with alien probe determination, I’ve concluded that my Japanese memories are my holy of holies. I have a shrine in the middle of me, dedicated to the people and places I visited.

And then it happened.

My interior walls began to shake and an internal earthquake knocked the sacred figurines off their shelves, smashing them on impact. Oh help, my precious memories! I had a moment of sheer panic and then the calm appeared and with it, an invitation summoning me to the present.

For too long, I’ve allowed my wa, my peace and harmony, to be easily disturbed; by my thoughts, by other people, by external circumstances. It’s time to adapt to the Now, to use my passport and go back to the future and meet up with myself.

And as for my pet monkey, the one in my mind, I think I’ll take a twist on the name Emily Carr gave hers, Woo, and call mine Wa. Aah, peaceful, harmonic monkey mind.

And now, it’s time for us to fly. Iiiiiimmaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!