Dearest Rachel –
I’m sure you remember how, whenever we would travel, we would bring home certain souvenirs that were meant to be used or consumed – usually food products, but occasionally something else. We were fully aware of their purpose, and in many cases, that we only had a limited time in which they would be enjoyable, but at the same time, we couldn’t bear to do anything to them and permanently alter them – or worse, effectively use them out of existence. So they would sit on our shelves, growing stale and unusable without us ever taking the opportunity to actually enjoy them.
Now, I’m not mentioning this to blame you for that attitude toward such items – clearly, I am and always was as guilty of this behavior as you ever were. While Ellen promptly took home her collection of KitKats and wrote up a complete ranking of her favorite (butter cookie and matcha) and least favorite (milk tea and – much to her surprise – chocolate orange) flavors, I haven’t touched any but the first couple that I opened the night I had the girls over to try them out. And don’t get me started on the Pocky; that stuff is still in the bag I brought them home in from Narita airport. Come to think of it, I may still even have a couple of wheels of Gouda from Schiphol back in Amsterdam, as well, along with a box of Basler läckerli from that abortive trip. So, yeah… I still have issues with consuming souvenirs, myself. This is just to give you a reference as to the difficulty I’ve had in getting around to this.
In fairness, it isn’t as if I needed to do something with this item before it went bad or anything; for once, I’m dealing with something other than a foodstuff. So with that being said, I could just as easily leave it untouched forever. But what’s the point of that?
At this point, I suspect you might be wondering why I even bothered with this; there’s no more point to this than any good luck charm (which is to say, absolutely none). Indeed, I’m pretty sure that Daniel rather disapproves of the whole thing, likening it to presenting a request to an idol. I certainly can see where he’s coming from with that assessment; the whole “promising enlightenment” quid pro quo sounds rather like the sort of bargain that the children of Israel would make with the Canaanite gods they adopted back in the Old Testament.
At the same time, is it any different from certain Christians who believe in a “name it and claim it” sort of belief regarding their requests to God Himself? Sometimes, we have to actually ask for what we want, as opposed to pining silently for it – not, as you might point out to me, that I’ve been particularly silent about this desire. I do find myself hesitant to do so, as He has not promised that we will get what we want in this life (on the contrary, He has said that “in this world, [we] will have trouble”; if we have an easy life, it might well suggest that we can’t be trusted to endure that trouble). Still, there’s something to be said for putting these requests down in writing, so that we know what we’ve asked for, and will recognize it if and when we receive it.
So why, you might ask, am I ‘putting it down’ on the back of a cheap representation of some Buddhist monk of some fifteen centuries ago? A fair question, and one that I don’t know if I can answer satisfactorily, to be honest. The best response I can give for now – and I realize it sounds strange – is that, with her being given a Japanese name, it seems appropriate for now to memorialize the request on a Japanese souvenir that exists for just such a purpose. I don’t see it so much as a form of worship – which is what would bother Daniel about it – as just a reminder (as if I needed one) of what I’m hoping for.
Besides…
Can’t that be sufficient?
In any event, until I can fill in that other eye, keep one of yours upon me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 