A man named Dante once contemplated the meaning of life and death while also pondering the nature of Hell. He also enlightened the masses as to why Empire Strikes Back was superior to Return of the Jedi. Granted, his musings on life and death tended to take the form of discussing collateral damage and casualties during the destruction of the Death Stars. But his seemingly pointless back and forth with his friend often resulted in profound statements about reality and, for the purposes of this entry, my life.
For Dante, Hell was the familiarity, simplicity and, ultimately, the complacency he had developed while working at his unfulfilling, underpaid, and unappreciated life as a convenience store clerk (if you have not seen the Clerks films I demand you stop reading this nonsense, obtain them via legal means and watch them immediately). Dante's frustration culminates in the occasional desperate cry of, "I'm not even supposed to be here".I am a sentimental person by nature, yet I don't look to the west for comfort nor do I feel significant longing for days gone by in America (time at university excluded). So, as my second year in the land of the rising radiation levels comes to a close, I grow increasingly concerned with my own complacency. Japan has become far too easy and comfortable. Often, when I think of home I think of this little box of an apartment or floating around the city.From this arises the concern that I have lost the motivation, drive and, ultimately, willpower to return to America.
Here, I am underpaid, undervalued and, thanks to the devaluation of the bachelors degree/supersaturation of college graduates in the last 20-40 years, most likely less than qualified for much (political scientist willing to describe the faults in your national politics for food). However, unlike Dante who everyday lamented his Hell of complacency, I often find it hard to grieve or be overly mortified by my current station in life. This point raises an interesting question. Can it truly be considered Hell if you are enjoying the experience? The answer is "no".
Despite my now wavering will to return, I do fear that I will wake one day to find myself in a cramped Japanese apartment, working for scraps, decades older with no way of retiring, jaded, having lost the satisfaction of working with my kids, and never having provided any true value to society (can you tell I wrote this after a company meeting where 30-40% of the foreigners fit into the above category?).
Dan
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