Kanagawa Oki Nami Ura

i am an ass.


such was my sole thought immediately after the following words left my mouth: "that was the biggest wave i've ever messed with!"

but, rewind.

i sat there in my beach chair, drying off in the hot summer breeze, in the comfortable avoidance of the umbrella. i looked back toward the water, hearing the crash and rumble over my iPod. i thought of the wave that towered over me, its crest easily six feet above my head, if not more.

the fear was primal, the kind that reminds you of your fragile mortality. i shivered, not from the frigid temperature of the ocean, but from the realization that this thing, this force, could obliterate me if that's what physics and the moon had so ordained. riding the waves was nothing new to me; it was something i'd enjoyed since my teen years, and i loved the feeling of being carried into the air and lulled back down. however, it soon became clear to me that today, the paradoxical demeanor of exhilarating repose was nothing more than affectation.

for a point of reference--of all imagined deaths, ever since my childhood i have feared drowning the most. i can't recall if that's the result of magnificent wipe-outs from too-young attempts at flashy boogie boarding, which, in all likelihood, could very well be true. at any rate, i do remember getting hit at whatever age by a hammer of water, being knocked off my feet, and rolling without any sense of control. the helplessness, the seeming endless roiling of both my surroundings and my body, and the inability to come up for air was terrifying. and while that memory has yet to leave me, i, like all children, was somehow able to eventually relegate it to the back storage room. there, it would one day be covered in dust and cobwebs,  finally devolved into a non-threat. at last unfettered by reality, my youth soon dove back into the water.

as i sit and write these words, my mind searches for a way not to chastise myself for having felt like the conquering hero, remaining undefeated by the crush of the tides. it's vacation. relax. enjoy it. most importantly, get over yourself; it's not a Big Deal. and yet, i can't shake this feeling:

i am a fraud.

i take this from my thoughts, small though they are compared to the consciousness of the direct victims, of 11 march 11. a friend of mine, sweet beyond sweet, lived somewhere within the range of the tsunami's wrath, though i confess that i'm not exactly sure where. for days, my parents and i fretted; where is shizuka? what has happened to her and her family? is she alright? is she still smiling her angelic smile? though i hadn't seen her in almost ten years, i was terribly worried about her and found myself missing her anew. at last, there was a reason to thank God for facebook; shizuka was finally able to post on her wall that she and her family were fine, and please, there was no cause to worry about her.

while i was somewhat reassured that she was safe, i continued to feel this prohibited worry for some time after the disaster. lives that had not been lost would take many, many years to be put back together. from my father's stories about his mission work after Katrina, i knew this somewhat analogous suffering was going to linger, as if a cancer that had to be flogged into remission. months later, the women's World Cup seemed to renew my extensive ruminations on the subject, and my attendance at Otakon, where massive efforts to raise relief funds were underway, only bolstered my mental path.

so, although i was not there and my only earthquake experience was akin to a three second jostling by a passing freight train, i can't help but have a sense of disgust for the notion of "victory over nature." moreover, while i have no intention of living a life of sour sobriety untouched by joys and beauties around me, i feel it my responsibility to be more respectful of the powers that are beyond our own and those lives they have transformed, and in so doing, i may be less of an ass.

The Great Wave Off Kanagawa by Katsushika Hokusai

author's note--so i'm going to do what authors ought not do, and that is make a pre-emptive defense/apology for my piece. it is as follows: really, i swear i'm not a depress[ing/ed] person. rather, i believe that this particular post is the consequence of confusion, held close for months following the disaster in Japan. most of the time, my thoughts swirl until just the intended moment, one they've chosen for themselves (i'm denied say in this, by the way), and then they're released in whatever form they dictate for themselves. such is this piece.