Experiencing life...

We never truly know anything until we experience it for ourselves. No matter how hard we try to understand, how lengthy the books we read, courses we take or lectures we hear, the lessons remain incomplete until we touch it, do it, feel it ourselves. In this age of online connectivity I, like everyone else, see the experiences and read the thoughts, accomplishments, joys and sorrows and on and on, of acquaintances, friends and family. Most get a quick like click, some a comment, then there are the shares… you know the ones. Clicking a heart or care emoji seems so inadequate. I try to stop for a moment to hold the person in compassion.

I type as much while thinking of the countless shares I’ve seen of people dealing with various life trials—illnesses or missing a loved one—a parent, or spouse, or god forbid even a child. Pain and sorrow, a hole in the soul that all the words in every language of the world cannot begin to make sense of.

I’ve been fortunate in this life to have lived well into adulthood with both of my parents alive and in good health. I’ve been equally fortunate to live in an era in which it’s possible to talk with them in real time—to see their faces even. It’s all been a mere click away.

Both my parents are still alive and relatively healthy as I type this. Alas it was always mom who knew how to do Skype or texting but since her most recent brain surgery it looks like those days are over. It was her who’d see what I share on social media as well but that, like being able to call, appears to have come to an end. I’m sure that’s why living out my adult life as an expat has felt a bit more distant this past month or so. I’m beyond grateful for the best brothers and sisters-in-law any guy could ask for—for getting to see them a lot more often via zoom so they could keep me in the loop through all of this and them even calling on Facetime when visiting so we can see and talk to my mom in the nursing home. She’s a fighter and has a stubborn streak 10 miles wide so I ain’t about to give up hope yet, but then again…. 

Well, the thing about life is we’ll all reach that point sooner or later—every life on earth will come full circle by and by. We can only hang on to life as we know it till it changes. 

It always changes. 

Thus acceptance and gratitude are key I think. Learn anew to see things as they are and let them go as they go. Be grateful that all of life is right here, right now, in each and every one of us this very moment. Sit and breath and be grateful for this miraculous moment of life. I’m grateful too for modern medicine—for doctors who can literally cut open a person’s skull and stop bleeding in the brain and the patient can come out of it able to recognize loved ones at all, even ones on an iPhone from 5k miles away! And again, my brothers and their wives and all they’ve done and are doing to help mom and dad. Gratitude beyond words with a big side of admiration.

For those who don’t know, my mom’s recovered well enough physically that she’ll likely stay on this side of the daisies for years to come. That said it doesn’t appear she’ll return home, at least not anytime soon, nor be back on FB or be able to navigate an iPad well enough to answer a Skype call, etc. Thus it’s one more life experience that’s helped me understand and able to feel compassion a little deeper for those of you who share of illnesses or, worse yet, of missing a loved one who’s moved on.

All just one more indelible reminder that we’re all in this life game together. Here’s to playing it well—to living it with compassion and kindness when we can—or at least refraining from calling someone an asshole and writing them off forever. Again, when we can. 

Life as a human…. It’s not a very easy thing to do I think.

Bombus ignitus is a species of bumblebee found in East Asia.  I was too late in helping this one escape a predator. A split second in its  grasp was more than it could withstand. 

Our Japanese snowbell tree was the reason it was in our yard. It absolutely exploded in white prettiness this year.  Here's the view of it from our balcony.

And here's a close up with one of the countless little fuzzy flying teddy bears harvesting its tasty pollen.

I spent long moments watching them collect the pollen. Full of non-aggressive cuteness they buzzed all around me as if I wasn't even there. Then my kids told of seeing one getting captured so I walked out there to see for myself and YAAAAAAAA!!! 

Osuzumebachi. The biggest, deadliest hornet on earth. It was already back for another kill. It hovered around the snowbell tree for all of ten seconds then swooped in and plucked one of my fuzzy little bumblebee friends out of mid air and flew off with it. 

I had to do something but man, why Osuzumebachi? Why couldn't it be a bear or something less frightening! Osuzumebachi kill more people in Japan every year than all other insects, reptiles and wild animals combined. I needed to prepare for battle. The photo of the bee above is the result of me standing guard with a net and can of cockroach spray. I needed more firepower.

By the next day I'd extended my reach by taping a long, thin gardening pole onto the bug net handle and bought a can of hornet spray. I sat out in the backyard and before long heard what sounded like a small helicopter coming in to land.

Huge, hovering death! I needed both hands to work the net with the handle extended so put the spray where I could grab it quick then, heart racing, took my best shot, blasted the net with hornet spray then turned and ran like hell just in case I missed and it was pissed.  Slow and cautious I returned and...

Hai-YAA!  

The lump in the net was still moving so I gave it another shot, this time point blank. 

I've never been much of a trophy hunter--never been one at all actually, but was downright giddy as I carefully removed it from the net and pinned it to a piece of wood, glued it in position and sprayed it with clear lacquer. The most difficult part was removing it from the net since it'd chomped down so hard that I never could get the net free from its jaws. There's a hole in the net now, the rest of it is that white stuff  in the jaws of my defeated foe. 

For the record it's exactly 2" long and has a 3 1/2" wingspan--both dimensions appear to be at least quadrupled when it's alive and flying anywhere near you. 

Henceforth on display in our home, albeit somewhere where my wife won't see it! She's not too keen on my new trophy, but happy the Osuzumebachi flybys over our yard have stopped just the same.