I spent so much time in UK as a kid that everyone (except me) seems to remember all my childhood antics and habits. Yes – I really did eat food from the altar whilst grandma was praying. And yes – I really did spit out my pacifier whenever it was dinnertime. I see the look of confusion on my relatives’ faces as they walk through the door – a look that morphs into familiar recognition once I utter my name and remind them whose kid I am. After a good 13 years, I am back in England. Although it’s been that long – it feels like I never left.
But what is the white rose? Why does it exist? And why does it continue to exist even after Death has left its mark? Perhaps it’s a reminder of purity – that even after all those transient life experiences – there’s a part of us that remains forever untouched.
A wanderer’s life is a one of perpetual transition. I find myself constantly shifting between lives – letting go, letting in, holding on. Some people I want to hold onto, but life’s forcing me to let go. Some stories lay open and unfinished – leaving me wondering if I’ll get to write another page someday. Other tales survive life’s hard tests of time and distance – the chapters still unfolding; a story without an end.
It’s official. I’m leaving Japan. The past week has been a celebration of my past 3.5 years here. Since Friday night last week, it’s been one farewell party after the next. Old friends. New friends. Colleagues. Bosses. And so on and so forth. And the party isn’t over. The celebrations are still in motion. There’s lamb slow-cooking on the stove as I write this.
A heart that doesn’t know how to forgive is a heart that hurts.
“Go on then Great Wanderer,” the voice whispers. “Jump.”
My first Saturn Return was a time of boundaries and blockages, of breakdowns and breakups, and of stagnation and strife. Like a harsh teacher from hell, Saturn came down on my 7th and 10th houses like a ton of bricks. Everything I had, knew and was came crashing down. There were so many days I felt like I was crawling through a dark lonely tunnel where there would be no light at the end of it all. But as I look back now – I realise that I spent those three and a half years building a foundation that’s solid, resilient and tough.