untitled.

its 1:40am...and i can't sleep...but...I'm ok with that...

i'm looking at the world map posted on my bedroom door. why is it that when I look, sometimes gaze at this map, the hairs on my neck stand up? why does my heart start to pound? my stomach, flighty. why is it that I cannot simply glance at it whenever I walk by? i always want to have a good, long, look at it. and i want to put on my favorite song. and drink my favorite tea. everything seems so possible, so tangible and yet mysterious when i see it. the world is smaller and bigger all at once. sometimes I wish I could put it in my pocket, just to have it with me. or put it on my ceiling so its the last thing I see before I go to bed and the first thing I see when I wake up. i'm realizing that if I do this...I might never sleep or want to get out of bed. then where would I be?...

my heart would still be pounding, my gaze fixed, and my hair would still be standing on end...

its 1:40am...and i can't sleep...but...I'm ok with that...

i live to know you more...

I was listening to this song today, and I felt like I needed to post these lyrics to all the people I know who are worshippers. The words are simple, but lately this has been a mediation of mine. As storms come and go, there is laughter and pain, I have been repeating this quietly under my breath...

You hold it all at once

The earth and all within

You look with eyes of love

To the sons of man

That I am known by You

Compels my heart to sing

I live to know You more

I live to know You more

I live to know You more

For me to live is Christ

To know You is my life

The storms will come and go

There's laughter and there's pain

Your kindness leads me on

To the light again

So I live and breathe

And find myself in You

I live to know You

I live to know You

I live to know You more

I count it all but loss

Compared to knowing You

I give my life away

To know You any day.

(To know You more, Hillsong)

awa dori

Summer is the season of festival, upon festival in Japan. Every day you hear of a festival somewhere. You name it - they have a festival for it. One thing I have learned here is that the Japanese sure know how to work hard, and they also know how to play hard as well.

The past weekend, in the little prefecture of Kita Senri, where I work, the festival of owa dori was being held.

"Part of O-Bon rites to welcome ancestral spirits, Awa Odori started more than 400 years ago. This year, more than 100,000 locals and visitors are expected to dance all over the city of Tokushima into the early morning hours accompanied by shamisen, drums, flutes, and bells. One dance group (Niwaka-ren) for walk-in participants will feature simple steps and movements. "

This tradition was brought from Tokushima, and is now danced in many parts of Japan.

The little place of Kita Senri has recently been draped in red and yellow lanterns. Coming out of my branch from time to time, yet another decoration seems placed. And another food stand - housing fresh cooked meat, and japanese sweets is put up. The air is hot, and the sound of a festival is in the atmosphere. I see many people - both old and young, dressed in traditional colourful kimonos. And for this particular festival, a very unique style hat is worn - I think to simulate the hats that are worn on the rice fields. I hear the sound of the special geta shoes hit the ground as women rush to find their place in the special dance.

As night approaches, the air is thick with festival fever. So many children in yukata, with cotton candy and small goldfish they have won at a game stand. The people are starting to pile into the main courtyard and wait to see the many traditional dancers. And the moment comes...the sound of the heaviest drum, and the small flute begin to play. And the dancers enter. Their movements almost echo that of rice farmers - bending down low and reaching to the sky to give thanks for the harvest. The drums are loud. You cannot help but gaze at the brilliant costumes, and unique movements.

I notice that that is not only the adults who participate in this special tradition, but it also the very, very young as well. Small children dressed in traditional garb try to imitate the movements of their elders. And I spotted a very elderly man as well, who looks like he has been doing this year after year - as evidenced by the flick of his wrist, and the bright grin on his face. Watching all of this take place, you feel such a sense of community in the air. As I continued to watch, little did I know that I would be so overcome with inexplicable joy.

As the dance progresses, the participant gather in a circle. The drums continue to beat. Now slower and louder. The air is humid, and you can seemingly feel the drum beat in the air.

More people begin to gather...including a young girl in a wheelchair. Dressed in a yukata, she is lead into the circle and is swept across the floor, as everyone dances. Hands are in the air, including hers. Stretched so high. Dancing like the wheelchair is not even there. All I see is her shining face and her beautiful costume. Perhaps the most beautiful sight of the evening. Maybe the most beautiful sight of my life. As I write this, I weep. I have never seen such a strong image of community like I have tonight. Young and the old, the very young and the very old, those who are able bodied, and those who are carried by a special spirit.

As my time progresses in Japan, I feel like it is getting more and more difficult to put into words the things I am seeing and experiencing. I'm fighting give words to the speechless moments.

I guess tonight I though, what a great image of heaven. Community. Dancing. The beating of a drum. Languages. Colour. Light. Our gaze will be fixed on something great.

along the banks of the yodogawa

As I sit here, I feel as though the summer is sweeping me away. It is now August. The summers here, I have learned, are filled with festivals, events, fireworks, and hot humid weather. The airconditioner seeming to be your best friend.

A few days ago was the time of the annual Yodogawa fireworks festival in Osaka. Apparently about 400,000 people gather along the banks of the river to watch the fireworks display every year. And this year, I got to be apart of it. As I got off at the train station in Juso to meet my friend Emi, I was bombarded with crowds upon crowds of people.

Now is the season for the summer kimono - also known as a yukata. And they are traditionally worn at festivals such as these. You always know there is a special occassion when you see the young women wearing yukatas in the train. Their hair neatly tied back with a flower, and they take the tiniest steps in hopes of not showing their ankles, as to maintain their modesty. It seems like there are a sea of these women in colourful yukatas, scurrying along in their geta (small wooden sandals), and men in the jimbays accompanying them - all hoping to get a good spot along the waters edge.

My dear friend Emi and I managed to find each other, and we made our way to Juso station's crowded washroom so she could assist me in putting on my yukata. Along with the beautiful design of the yukata's, are also the impressionable obi (or belt) that are wrapped around your waist, and tied in a most interesting fashion in the back. Once dressed, we both made our way to the river.

As I was walking in my yukata, I couldn't help but feel Japanese in a way. I felt like I had become apart of something that had been going on for a long time. I had to take smaller steps, in order to accommadate my yukata, and as I caught a glimpse of myself in a passing window, I felt like this was a moment I had been waiting for.

Approaching the river, you see thousands and thousands of people - and the city skyline on the other side, compliments the view. The rivebank is lined with the greatest number of food stalls I have ever seen, with the largest variety of foods I have ever seen. And if you manage to find a seat, you can sit and enjoy both the sights, sounds and smells of this festival. All three are beautiful.

As Emi and I make our way to the blanket she has used to save our spot, we sit and wait. The moment arrives, we are surprised by the loud noise of the fireworks, the the silence of the people. Everyone turns their heads, and all eyes are on the starry sky and the bright flashes of light.

I am first struck by the large scale of these fireworks. Like none I have ever seen. Patterns, shapes, colours I have never seen. Or ever dreamed possible. The Japanese sure know how to do fireworks! I even spotted a few cartoon characters and one even shaped like the planet Saturn.

The sound around me is nothing but tbe loud crack of the fireworks, and the sound of childrens excitement "Sugei" "Subarashi" "Ahhh." With each firework comes anticipation for the next. Brighter. Louder. Bigger. More beautiful. Everyone else seemed to fall silent. I look at Emi, she looks at me - we both are awestruck with such a beautiful display of light! Its amazing that this can quiet such a large group of spectators. When watching such a beautiful display of light, it seems to be the only thing in the world that matters. I look around, and I think to myself...I'm in Japan. I'm wearing a yukata. And I'm surrounded by the Japanese. The atmosphere feels thick with culture. The moment when you completely live in the present. Its just you, the night, and the fireworks.

The show lasts for about one hour, and when it finishes - you wish it could keep going forever. You feel a little sad, but also inspired and full of hope at the same time.

As the excitement still looms in the air, everyone gets up, shakes off, and gathers their things. As I part ways with Emi, I feel hopeful for the next part of my journey here. Like these fireworks were somehow symbollizing my journey in Japan. A journey of sometimes mixed emotions, hopefulness, excitement, joy, surprise and bright lights.

Seeing perhaps the most magnificent fireworks I have seen made me recognize that life really is magical. It demands our attention. It can focus us, and distract us, it can make us work harder, and it can make us play harder too. It teaches us to stand, or to just sit for a while. A soak in the moment.