Those Who Have and Those Who Don't

I really wanted to write "the haves and have nots" but in the spirit of keeping myself for being a plagiarizer, I'm going with something only slightly different.  In all seriousness, this is an important topic.  Allow me to explain.

Simply put, to this day, there is survivor guilt.  There is a sense of "not hurting enough" and "being spared" and "feeling bad about not feeling bad."  Is this a uniquely Japanese sentiment?  There is definitely a sense of obligatory responsibility.  Those who don't embrace it, and those who ignore it are considered rule-breakers.  Gaijins who "don't get it" don't get much done.

So, imagine this.  Your house is far away enough from the coast that it didn't experience any damage last March.  You know people, and you know people who know people who lost their homes, loved ones, jobs, and cars.  You, however, are fine.  As is your home.  And your car.  Your family members were all home on that day are are safe.  Your children go to school on higher ground and are to date, still safe.  You were all safe.  These are the people who have wondered for the past year, "why me?"  Rather, better phrased, "why not me?"

I cannot relate to this.  Pretending I can and do is insulting.  This is not my pain.  I am the outsider.  I am not from here.  What do I say then to those who feel guilt over surviving, living the same home, driving the same car, going to the same job site?

"If I don't go down towards the port, I don't see the devastation.  Technically, if I wanted to, I could live my life as if nothing has happened."  The person saying this looks up at me.  (I will not mention a name out of respect for their pain and guilt.)  I truly do not know what to say.

Up north, there is a clear sense of the differentiation between those who have lost, and those who have not.  Understandable, yes.  A whole new level of difficulty in community-relations, also yes.

I listen a lot these days.  Being one who "has" means I don't get to dispense advice nonchalantly.  My role for the foreseeable future is to listen more, and to speak less.  The former I can do.  The latter is a challenge.  Evidently, now is my time to be silent.  For that, I need the Serenity Prayer all over again.  "And the wisdom to know the difference."