There is a Japanese proverb that fascinated me, which I chose as the title for this piece.
Kachō Fūgetsu (花鳥風月) comprises the kanji characters for flower (ka 花), bird (chō 鳥), wind (fū 風), and moon (getsu 月), collectively referred to as the "beauties of nature."
Japan offers breathtaking nature in each season, and one of my favorites is, of course, the one from spring—the cherry blossoms.
Back in Spring 2021, I decided to go to Tokyo alone, which is two hours away from my place, for the Hanami (花見), or "flower viewing," and to also take pictures and videos.
I checked its forecast and picked a weekend I'd go.
Along with my camera, tripod, and even a heavy gimbal, I traveled to get there.
Only that—I went a little earlier.
The cherry blossoms had not started blooming yet, leaving me with this shot.
The billowy pink and white blooms I imagined turned out to be this withering gloom.
Having to travel with all my heavy gear only to end up with that of course—I wasn't happy.
But despite feeling frustrated, I decided to go back the following weekend to catch its peak.
When I went back, finally, the cherry blossoms had reached full bloom.
giving me an even more creative clip idea—the vibrant shot, pieced together with the gloomy shot I had taken the previous week.
You see, who wouldn't fall in love with Japan?
When I decided to make an 'unthinkable' decision—which was to leave Japan and come home—that's when a drastic change in my life and in myself happened.
Almost everyone I know assumed it was going to Japan that broke me.
Little did they know, despite my challenges there—it was leaving it and coming home that did.
It was me who made the decision to quit and come home for various personal reasons.
I had plans, goals, and high hopes in doing so.
Unfortunately, the moment I set foot into my home country, things started going wrong.
I initially planned on not telling anyone about coming home as I wasn't sure if I would want to go out and meet people.
And it isn't that I wasn't looking forward to seeing my loved ones again.
It's just that if I would, I'd want to see them again as me that they're used to—the fine and happy me.
However, I eventually ended up letting them know anyway.
So, despite feeling unwell on the inside, with my high hopes and will, I still tried meeting friends and carrying out my plans.
But then, things kept going wrong and worse than they already were.
My plans went wrong just when they started, my circles suddenly had fallouts just when I got reunited with them, my mental health deteriorated just when I thought it would get well, I had repeated patterns from the past just when I thought I had already learned, and I struggled to find a safe space just when it was what I was hoping to find coming home the most.
Having to leave Japan only to come home to that, of course—I wasn't happy.
That's when I started regretting coming home.
Though I ended up leaving Japan, it's no secret that I did fall in love with it.
It wasn't that I wanted to leave, but that I needed to leave.
But no, it wasn't only the cherry blossoms or the breathtaking nature each season offers that left a piece of my heart there.
But it is the life I had there.
It is who I was when I was there.
Though I found my job challenging at first, I had come to surprisingly love it.
My initial plan was just to work there for a year, but as I started adapting and liking living and working there, I planned on staying longer.
Though there will always be difficult kids, they were the main reason I fell in love with my job.
In the adult world, being watchful is important.
To survive dealing or working with them, sharp judgment and discernment, "kūki wo yomu" (reading the room), and "honne tatemae" (public facade) are a must.
To survive, there are some games to play and unspoken rules to follow.
With kids, there are no such things as those.
My guards are down, my authentic self is free.
The only games to play are literal games and the rules to follow are mine.
I've always loved genuineness and authenticity, and as an adult, I can only safely find them in kids.
It's their innocence, purity, sweetness, carefree spirit, and raw emotions—giving such a breath of fresh air—that made my job not feel like a job.
Kids don't lie, so when they say they love you, they mean it—and, well, when they say you suck, acceptance is the key.
Fortunately, there were more who said "dai suki" (I love you) to me than "yada" (ew, no).
But it wasn't only kids in whom I had safely found genuineness.
There were also some genuine, kind-hearted adults I have formed connections with.
In a land full of 'honne tatemae', I guess one of the ways to know if someone's being genuine is when, even though there's nothing they can gain from being friends with you, they would still want to.
And surprisingly, I found some people there who wanted to.
They'd tell me their life stories, invite me over to meet their families, cook me food, buy me presents, and take me to places.
Maybe it was because I was some harmless foreigner they felt carefree to be with, or, as they kept saying, they found the same energy in me I found in kids.
Being hard-launched into the real world as an inexperienced young adult, among the grown-ups there, well, as they say, I was such a "junsui" (pure), innocent kid.
And being one, it wasn't hard for me to just freely see the good, trust, and give love.
So, without any fear or reservations, I poured out my heart to people I grew fond of there—platonically, familially, and even romantically.
Just like a kid, with all my innocence and sincerity, I did pour out my love,
making such connections to be formed.
On top of it, I was able to also have the means to give back and provide for my loved ones the best I could, and to myself for my creative pursuits.
More than the cherry blossoms and the breathtaking nature each season offers, the thing I was able to find in Japan is what I have always aspired to find—a sense of fulfillment.
And along with a sense of fulfillment, ultimately—I found a sense of purpose.
So, when it was finally time to leave and everyone started saying goodbye, many of them shed a tear during the last moments, but I didn't.
I didn't cry at all.
But that's only because I had already spent enough time crying alone.
So, it was leaving Japan that broke me.
Then, it was coming home only for things to go wrong and worse that sent me into the deep, dark hole—also known as depression.
The transition felt like an abrupt crash from peak to rock bottom.
And in that rock bottom, every light in my eyes and love in my heart slowly started disappearing.
I was home but couldn't feel home.
I was physically present but socially and mentally wasn’t.
My friends' birthdays and weddings were passing by, yet I couldn't care less.
Months were passing and I still wasn't looking for a job, yet I also couldn't care less.
My goals remained unticked, yet I just couldn't care less.
Life went on for the rest, but mine remained stuck.
More than merely heartbroken—I was grieving.
I was grieving the life I had.
I was grieving the genuine connections that were formed.
I was grieving the self I felt I lost.
I was grieving her enthusiasm,
her passion in life,
her carefree attitude,
her innocence and childlike spirit,
and the love she used to not be afraid of pouring.
I was grieving all that she was before spiraling down into the deep dark hole.
The billowy pink and white blooms life once was, suddenly turned into a withering gloom.
Not wanting to be a burden I felt I already was, I had kept a lot of things to myself.
I no longer wanted to be the 'sad girl' of the groups, so I tried hard, putting up a facade.
As much as I couldn't care less about getting a job, I also didn't like not having one.
I wanted to be able to provide and pour out again, but I couldn't even bring myself out of bed.
I had sought comfort but in predators and some thorny flowers.
I actively sought "fixes", only to be taken advantage of and let down by people I thought I could rely on—even the ones that were supposedly ethical and professional.
The very thing that made life worth living then became disillusioning, and instead of developing a stronger faith—I ended up losing my grip on it.
I came home seeking rest, only to struggle to find any.
I thought I needed a break from a foreign land, not realizing it was going to be my home country I'd need it from more.
I returned for a safe space, only to be preyed upon by predators after predators and hurt by some thorny flowers—the ones who were either also broken, or bitter.
My heart was hurting, my head kept ruminating, my faith lost its grip, everything was overwhelming, and I had never felt so alone.
But even though some people abandoning me had hurt, still, that is something I know I can carry on with myself.
The only time I know I no longer can is once it's my own self who would.
And at that point, she did.
At that point, she also abandoned me.
It's one thing to be abandoned by some people, but to be abandoned by one's own self—that is such a dangerous thing.
People around you can show all the support you need, but at the end of the day, it will always be yourself.
And if oneself hates herself so much to ever want to help her, who would?
More than grieving—I hated myself.
That was it.
Out of all the rock bottoms, that was the deepest, darkest rock bottom,
waking up every morning asking, "Why did I have to have another one?".
But as deep and dark as it was down there, there's some irony that eventually happened.
As depressing as it was in that deep, dark hole, I eventually found comfort and rest.
When you go against the current of any body of water, you'd feel pressure and find yourself barely moving at all.
But when you stop going against it and start going with it instead, it may not be where you first wanted to go, but at least—it'll take you somewhere.
So, I decided to stop going against myself and resorting to distractions and escapes.
And when I did, it began taking me somewhere.
It took me to a dark place where all my demons are.
Each demon had nasty things to say and disturbing memories to remind me of.
But each of what they say and remind me of stems from something.
So, I began asking where they’re all coming from.
I listened.
I jotted it all down.
Then, I connected the dots.
Inner work.
Everything led me to inner work.
There's another Japanese proverb I became fascinated with—Onkochishin (温故知新).
It means "you can’t expect to move forward without understanding the past."
More than just not repeating the past, the goal is to also understand it and learn from it.
I had attempted several therapies before 2023 but failed to find a mental health professional I was compatible with, except for the first one I found in Japan, where both my therapist and I chose to discontinue for a reason.
During all the other attempts, I was prescribed medications that initially worked, but eventually made me too impulsive and restless, leading to some self-sabotaging decisions, particularly at the beginning of 2023.
As a result, I stopped taking those medications and altogether discontinued therapy attempts.
It was then that my mental health journey took a whole new direction.
"These demons keep taunting me anyway, so why not confront them?"
And so, I did.
I did the work by myself.
At my own pace, I began taking my time reflecting in retrospection—recalling and reviewing my life's past events and situations, especially the traumatic events from childhood that serve as the root cause of everything I've ever become.
This led to another reflection, which is in introspection—examining how I think, react, decide, and cope; identifying my triggers and patterns, my strengths and weaknesses, my potentials and tendencies; exploring my dreams and fears, my deepest pain and bottled-up issues; understanding what I like and don't like; and discerning who I am and who I am not.
As well as in extrospection—considering the people in my life, discerning who to keep and who to cut, determining how to show love and appreciation to those I'm keeping, and finding forgiveness and wishing those I'm walking away from well, after all.
Listening intently to what each of my inner demons said, suddenly, they started cooling down, and felt like, slowly, they began leaving.
Onore ni katsu (己に勝つ)
My student made this calligraphy and gave it to me on my last class with her.
It means 'conquer yourself.'
When I made the decision to confront my demons by putting an end to the self-sabotage, starting to delve deep, recognizing my patterns, and acknowledging my deepest wounds, that's when I began to eventually make friends with my demons and little by little, conquer myself.
When one experiences traumas too great to handle, especially at a very young age, what the brain does is it pushes traumatic memories out of the conscious mind or basically makes one forget, as a protection or defense mechanism called repression.
While the brain does one a favor by saving one from feeling the pain through repression, it doesn't necessarily mean that the pain is gone.
The pain is still there—lurking beneath the surface, bottled up and waiting for the time to resurface.
And as the pain overflows, it would start exploding and manifesting into different forms of dysfunctionality unless they are all brought to light and gently released.
All the deep pain my brain repressed has started to resurface.
They began to overflow, flooding in various shapes and forms, both creeping in slowly and crushing me hard, all at once, on top of my current circumstances, which are all interconnected to one another, ultimately sending me to the deep dark hole.
The recurring patterns in dysfunctional attachment styles and self-sabotaging tendencies, both before and after returning home, which led to a profound grief over the lost purpose, connections, and sense of self, spiraled into self-neglect and loathing, all stemming from something deeper beneath the surface—every unresolved internal issue rooted in childhood, both triggered by and manifested in the happenings now as an adult, that was only brought to light and gently released through the intentional inner work I mustered the courage to begin myself.
I had a pretty rough childhood—dark, even—and every terrible thing that led me to do that inner work was an awful process that broke me down. But gradually, through the support I received from the genuine ones, the time I took, and the God I believe is with me throughout, my heart eventually began to feel lighter, my mind started to clear, and the weight was lifted off my shoulders.
Comfort and rest suddenly came aiding like a friend.
Isolation started gradually turning into solitude.
The rotting eventually began making way for a rebirth.
It felt like there was something about to sprout.
No longer putting any pressure and only going with the flow, little by little, I found myself starting to make baby steps.
Gradually, I started wanting to take care of myself,
discovering new interests that spark my heart,
collecting and creating playlists or folders of things I love like I used to,
feeling something profound from good music and movies once again,
being able to sleep and wake up with a serene mind even without any medications,
finally feeling inspired instead of getting triggered by positive quotes,
feeling excitement over creating plans once again,
getting my heart for writing and spark for documenting back,
not only being present but also genuinely enjoying spending time with friends,
looking forward to and enjoying being part of their birthdays, weddings and such,
thinking of ways to show my loved ones the appreciation and love I have for them,
and graduating from 'the honeymoon' or euphoric stage of blind optimism into a more realistic and grounded relationship with Him.
My state of mind started gradually shifting, and I finally began seeing all the silver linings.
Behind the facade I tried so hard to put up, I recognized the ones who could see through.
I got to see my realest people—the ones who loved me when I was the fine and happy Jah and the ones who still did when I became the sad girl Jah.
I got to see that even having to stop playing a helpful role, I now see that, in their own ways, in the best ways they know how, the family I have loves me all the same and would provide what they can to see me well again.
Despite keeping things to myself as much as I could, I got to see how much support genuine people in my life are willing to give.
Despite my doubts and even some ill feelings deeply rooted in pain this season, I eventually got to see a glimpse of truth in His Word.
Finally, a seed begins sprouting, the grass begins flourishing, and—despite the ongoing challenges—I am now truly living and pouring out love once again.
Through the patterns I had repeated and the fallouts that happened, I got a better grasp of classifying different kinds of branches in my life and figured out how to do the pruning.
I have now started removing or setting boundaries with all that's unhealthy for my garden—the parasites who prey on and harm delicate flowers at their vulnerable states, the flowers who have grown unhealthy over time, the ones who are no longer meant to stay in my garden, and the root cause of all my tangled roots inside.
And, of course, the ones who have sowed good seeds—now reaping each of their own special spots in my garden.
No matter how unpleasant the entire process is, all this pruning gives me a clear sign of one thing—my inner work worked.
It made me see how far I've come—that I’m finally learning how to pour out love without draining my own well.
Now, every light in my eyes and love in my heart has started coming back.
The deep dark hole I spiraled down into provided a clean slate from where I started going nowhere but up.
The hate I had towards myself pushed me to change myself for the better.
It was definitely the least I wanted but the new start I needed.
The withering gloom life once was has now turned once again into billowy pink and white blooms—waking up in the morning and saying, "Now I see, Father, why I had to have another one."
In going to Japan, I found a sense of purpose.
In having the courage to leave it and come home, I have found both myself I once lost and the new self I have become.
When I came home, gradually, internally—I have also reached full bloom the same way the cherry blossoms did that spring of 2021,
giving me an even better version of myself—the healing and learning me, combined with the kid-at-heart I’ve always been—who has only learned to be both guarded and grounded.
You see, after all, who wouldn't fall in love with coming home?
More than 'beauties of nature', kachō fūgetsu is also about seeing the beauty surrounding you in each season and understanding that those things, including yourself, are beautiful in different ways at different seasons of life 🌸🕊️🍃🌙
There's a reason Jesus commands us to love your neighbor as yourself.
Because, just as the saying goes, "You can't pour from an empty cup," you won't be able to give love to others if you don't even love yourself in the first place.
So, learn about yourself through each season—including and especially the past.
Make friends with your demons.
Conquer yourself.
And the love will follow.
including the ones who didn't get included in these screenshots and pictures, thank you.
all the love,
Jah
Mine is the grip that won't let go,
Jesus
