The void

The flight to Japan was strange for a number of reasons. Not all of which I can really explain. I suppose it was because I was going somewhere very far away that I had no real picture of or idea about in my mind, to do something that I had never done before, and for unknown amount of time. I said my goodbyes and took a last look. When would I be coming back? I really had no idea. I asked myself why I was making myself do something so hard. All I knew was that I had to. I had absolutely no choice. A force inside was driving me and I was just going with it. The interesting thing is, the more you push yourself, the easier it gets. It's like an object gathering momentum. There is some truth in the saying 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.' (I am sure that's a line from a song - anyone know? Bat country? I also remember something someone once said to me (whilst we are on the subject) . 'You are only half as tired as you think you are.' This I think, applies most significantly to emotional strength.

Every hour that went by on that plane took me further away from everything I knew and everyone I cared about. I was plunging myself into absolute nothingness. It was like walking in a mist that allowed you to see only a few paces in front of you. All I knew was what I had to do in the minutes I was living then, and then, and then. One thing at a time. I remained perfectly calm for I knew that if I allowed myself to consider the potential enourmity of the situation I might fall to pieces. There was no real risk of that though. I felt alive, slightly anxious, but I was looking forward to 'waking up'. The night that never came was interpersed with a dispassionate array of visual films and tv shows. The free bottles of wine and generous measures of Drambuie helped me sleep for a few hours but it wasn't very satisfying. I was served breakfast as we entered Japanese airspace. I was stuck in the aisle in between a dour Dutchman and a sleeping Japanese couple, despite having asked for a window seat, so couldn't see anything of the country I was about to touch down in. The dot on the map of the world on the monitor had made it's slow progression from little England, over Scandanavia, the great expanse of Siberia, and finally come to rest above Tokyo. I followed the people ahead of me in a haze of jet lag, nerves and excitement. I went through the usual immigration checks, they stuck a sticker in my passport and checked my visa. I found my battered suitcase marked with orange tag 'heavy' and exited through the doors to my new life. I saw my name on the sign and he waved....