Raise Me

March 14, 2008

Welcome, new visitor! My name is Ari, the man behind Aries9. Here I share my thoughts on music and life, so you can get to know me and my music. Thanks for visiting!

Everyone knows a good drama queen or two. Trouble always seems to follow them.

I knew a few people who stay stuck in jobs and situations they don’t want, bemoaning and complaining how terrible life is, all the while making no effort to change.

I was one of them.

Today, I often stop and am amazed by the successes that surround me. I am a success on multiple levels.

Professionally, I have a terrific job, I am working for an employer I can believe in and my contributions are well-valued, plus I just plain enjoy the work I do.

Relationship-wise, I am enjoying a lasting relationship with my wife and I get along well with all my family members. I am a bit thin on non-family friends at the moment, having just moved to a new city and all, but I have several long-time close friends whom I adore.

Financially, we are in a better place than ever before — we have money in the bank and each month we have some more to put in. We still need to be rather frugal but we’re not uncomfortable. And most importantly we’re debt-free.

And personally, I am pursuing this music I’m passionate about and I have an album, a summation of my efforts, that is certainly good enough to be proud of, if not perfect. And I’m only going to get better.

Stopping and listing up these successes, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed with joy and gratitude. It’s only recently, just the last 2-3 years, that I’ve felt that things were starting to turn around. Before that, I would have said that life was plain hard. I wouldn’t have called myself a success.

So, how did I turn my life around?

I can’t say that I did it, actually.

You see, 4 years ago my daughter was born.

Witnessing her birth was one experience I recall vividly. I won’t go into details, but at the very moment of her birth, the first glance I took made me go “wow, she’s a solid one.”

She wasn’t a huge baby, but she was certainly not small. She just had a sense of robustness from the beginning. Up to that point, I had worried about what would happen if I dropped a baby — but after that I never worried. That’s because I trusted her. I trusted her existence. I thought that if I dropped her she would be fine. She was not that fragile.

My daughter hasn’t been easy for us to raise, but she is definitely a “bundle of joy.” There were many moments where it seemed impossible to feel happy or joyful, yet my baby somehow seemed to have the capacity to be just that. She came equipped with one deep bucket of happiness, and she’s always been an exuberant sharer. For the first year of her life, my wife and I each worked part-time and took turns caring for her, so I got to be in the presence of her joy a lot.

I really think it did wonders to my outlook on life. Little by little, life started turning, and we got rid of things we didn’t need, the things that were hurting us. Most importantly, today I have better control over my feelings and actions than I ever have. I have learned that this control is the source of my confidence — even though I can’t control life, I can control what I do about it. Well, easier said than done, but I’ve improved immensely.

But this didn’t happen because I felt more responsible, like I needed to be an example or something. I do think that, but it wasn’t the motivation for my life’s changes. I simply felt happier, and I just made better decisions and felt more optimistic then.

To this day, I fundamentally have faith in my kids. They are happy, healthy and whole kids, well-equipped to deal with whatever life throws at them. I’m sure there will be many scary moments or close-calls, but I really trust that they will be all right. I’m not worried about them one bit.

What gets me, though, is that having seen what a joy-producing machine a child is, I’m enraged and dismayed by forces of evil that rob little kids these very things they are born with. It’s not just parents’ fault, though we have big parts. It seems some sectors of the society are built to prey on them, to take advantage of them, to suck the life out of them. Poorly equipped parents are abandoned to bear these awesome responsibilities, and in turn they inflict terrible, painful damages on their kids. It just pains me that my bundle of joy can become so distressed to the point of taking her own life only after 16 years of living. Yet, that’s what happens in Japan, that’s what happens everywhere.

My kids are raising me. With their help I finally became a grown-up. So, with this joy that was handed to me, I’m trying to do something worthwhile.

And I want to tell everyone this. If you’re not happy, if you’re not a success, if you wonder if any of these great things will happen to you — know that it can. The fact that it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean that it won’t happen tomorrow. You don’t know anything about the future. To assume that it’ll go just like yesterday is to close yourself up from the wide-open sea of possibilities.

If I ever did anything right, it was that I simply received what was given to me. I didn’t deny it or twist it with cynicism and sarcasm. A bundle of joy was sent my way, I saw it as such and I accepted it. I just soaked it up, just as I do other people’s pains and sorrows, and made it my own. It wasn’t hard or difficult.

It was one of the best things that happened to me in my life. I hope it happens to you. To everyone.

Filed under: Ari, Reflections |