And have a Nice Day

English. My mother tongue.  One I recognize and understand. 

One night at the end of my first year of teaching in Tokyo, I was lying in bed fitfully trying to get some sleep. On the street below, there was a lively party of people enjoying a dinner on the patio of a restaurant. Their laughter and chatter waifed up through my window and flowed into my room. I wanted to understand them or at least have their voices lull me to sleep. Instead I was irritated and annoyed because I really was feeling alone and homesick. It was a culmination of frustration from the many times I was shopping, going to the Doctor, ordering in a restaurant, asking for directions on the street or a million other times when my lack of the Japanese language impeded or halted my communication, my basic need to be heard and understood.

After a fitful night, I got up and readied myself for the day.  I walked to the train station and growled through the crowd as people pushed forward onto the early morning train. When I arrived at my stop, the crush of departing passengers spit me out onto the platform. I worked my way through the lines to the escalators and as I reached the bottom, a station worker noticed the only gaijin-me, and said “Good morning.”  It startled me and I whipped my head around and I said good morning back. Then he added “and have a good day!” My heart soared and my soul leaped for joy. He spoke English and added the caveat of “have a nice day.”  

How often in my struggles  do I go through my days and nights longing to hear the friendly, comforting voice of the Spirit? Do I recognize it at once and whip my head around to see who’s speaking? Am I quick to hear and answer back? Someday the wanting and craving for that familiar voice seems elusive. I’ve found that when the moment is right, when I’m ready to listen, I hear that voice speak clearly and plainly. I’m not forgotten, nor am I alone in foreign territories. He doesn’t forget me and then my heart soars and my soul leaps for joy.