Spring and Picket Fences

      Well, it's a glorious spring day, with birds chirping and soft air that feels good on the skin.  People are out and about, doing the human equivalent of mating and nest building.  I can hear my neighbor vigorously beating on her futon, all of which are hanging outside to soak up the sun and kill the little beasties dwelling in them.  (Proper futon care is a whole 'nother subject that I'll get into another day.)

     Here in Ogawa-machi, given the demographics, there are lots of folks just sitting around outside the supermarkets, jawing with other folks they've known all their lives.  I sometimes wonder what they're talking about, but with my turquoise top and big ole earrings -- and since I'm likely to be the only foreigner who'll be in the store the whole day -- I can guess that the topic of conversation is ME.  

     For the first time in months, the "elderlies" are out playing gateball, which is croquet in the rest of the world.  Here in Japan it's a sport reserved exclusively for older folks.  In fact, one of the best ways to get a laugh out of a classroom of Japanese students is to answer the question "What do you like sports?" with an unhesitating "Gateball."  There's a shocked silence as they process a response that goes against everything they know about life, then one sharp student will start giggling and soon everybody is in on the joke.

   This is the kind of day that makes you feel positively guilty for being indoors, so out I went, defying my own "picket fence" rule.  What, you ask, is this "picket fence" stuff all about?  Well, it's a theory of human behavior.  I wish I could claim it as my own, but it actually came out of the lips of my therapist friend, Gale.  She has a lot of theories, does Gale, but the only ones that have stuck with me are -- duh! -- those that pertain to me.  She's long said things like: "Becky, if you didn't have any excitement in your life, you'd make some."  And then there was, "Why do you keep asking everybody for advice when you know you're not going to take any of it anyway?"  And then there was "A bored Becky is a dangerous Becky."  No, come to think of it, those immortal words might actually have come out of the mouth of my sweet-but-wary husband, David.

    Anyway, back to picket fences and -- in my opinion -- Gale's best theory.  She says what people do is this:  We set up boundaries (white picket fences) for ourselves and then, sooner or later, often immediately, we step right over them.  So, a person might say something like this:

     --I'd never date one of my students.
    -- I wouldn't even consider getting a tattoo.
    -- You'll never see me wearing ________  (You fill in the blank.)
    --  I have no interest in visiting Asia.  
    -- You'd never catch me owning a _______  (Fill in the blank.)

And then, the next thing you know, that's exactly what they're doing.  They step right over that little picket fence and do just what they said they'd never do.  Now this can be done on the big, life-changing scale (for example, "I'd never marry a foreigner."), but it also applies to small actions in everyday life.

      So, this morning over breakfast, David and I had a grave  discussion about how I didn't need to go to the supermarkets at all today or tomorrow, not when we're going to be away for the weekend.  And not when the house is already so full of "supplies" there's room for no more.  Not when the fridge is already full of what this "big, beautiful woman" likes to call "luscious leftovers."  (A bit of wishful thinking there?) 

    Of course you can guess what I did less than two hours after that little chat.  Not one, not two, but three supermarkets had little visits from me this morning.  (I'm addicted.)

     And that is how I came to know that Ogawa-machi is waking up to springtime, embracing it, enjoying it, luxuriating in it. 


 It's because I just had to step over that little white picket fence!