Through the Looking Glass

Almost two months have passed since I have been in Japan and time has begun to march on just as it would in any typical daily routine. Days pass as I repeat the same sequence of events: waking up, showering, going to work, teaching, sitting in traffic, eating dinner, and light reading or a movie before bed. On one flip of the coin I am moving through the universal experience; setting up and knocking down the familiar. Of course, every coin has its tails, and as Alice discovered, every mirror has its reflection.

Appeasing my daily routine, I browsed through facebook this morning.
A friend of mine and a brilliant writer posted an exert from Lewis Carroll, more specifically, from Alice in Wonderland. His post reminded me of my favorite Lewis Carroll piece: the "Jabberwocky". The "Jabberwocky" always appealed to me because of its curious structure and definition, and also Carroll's unparalleled use of portmanteau. Many of us are aware of portmanteau linguistics today, but through cheesy and annoying advertising that places words like "Chillaxin" into the English lexicon. Carroll, however, had an innovative way of placing two words together to mean one thing, and referred to this approach as the balance of two words at the same time. This method was sheer perfection for a story like Alice's, which was the demonstration of what happens when worlds collide, or more importantly, when we realize that the end of the line is actually the beginning.

What interests me about Alice and her journey in Through the Looking Glass is the premise that she never really left reality, that reality (based on the idea that reality is relative) and actuality simply merged, which gave her the illusion that she traversed into a world of nonsense. When looked at through the usage of portmanteau, words like "mimsy" seem irrational, but when you understand that it is the merger of "flimsy" and "miserable" and the word is placed appropriately in a sentence, it makes perfect sense.

The merger of words leads into the merger of perceptions, and alike the merger of worlds.

For me, Japan is my parallel universe. I, like Alice, stepped through the looking glass. As I float through the monotony of modern living, I am surrounded by my reality of familiar themes. I go shopping in a supermarket and cook my own meals. I live in an apartment on the third floor and arduously carry groceries up the stairs. I drive a car and take weekend trips. I go to work and teach students. My life, is paralleledby another existence though; by the actuality of my surroundings. Hence, two worlds collide.
I always looked at the mirror wondering what it was like on the other side. The reflection that stared back wasn't quite me, how could it be? It looked like I did, but different, it moved its lips like mine, but the reply was incomprehensible. In that difference was another world filled with possibilities. A world that I have never known. I decided that by just simply glaring at my reflection everyday I would never truly know. I must get to the other side. I must go through the looking glass.
As I began to cross over I thought to myself that many people believe that there is only two sides to the looking glass, but a mirror is like a menagerie; it is contains endless reflections when presented with itself.
When I stepped through the glass time stood still, it remained daylight during the times when it should not be day. I crossed over the farthest point on the earth in a short matter of time.
I arrived on the other side to discover that I had lost a whole day.
At first glance everything resembled the image that I left. But of course, I am on the other side of the glass, just by mere principal things cannot be the same. People look like people, but they are different. It is clear that I am not from this side of the mirror. When they talk they use words but the words do not have meaning to me and it sounds like pure nonsense. Grocery stores look like grocery stores but are filled with items that I cannot identify. I have an apartment that is devoid of central heating and requires me to manually light a pilot for the stove, faucet, and shower. Trips take twice as long as I have a maze of riddled language and directions to conquer. Students realize that I am from the other side of the glass and struggle to find ways to relate to me. There is a gamut of emotion that is felt when one steps through the looking glass. Much like Alice, I feel so many different emotions everyday, and some days you are so busy trying to figure out what a momerath is, that you cant feel anything at all. Quite frankly, at times, it makes me want to stab myself with a spork.
For Alice, she was desperately looking for answers to make sense of the nonsense that she found. But in reality, she went through the looking glass to make sense of the nonsense she already knew. She discovers that the whole time she is struggling against the nonsense from the latter side of the glass, that she simply is working back to square one. What she doesn't know is that her journey was actually an assessment of which nonsense is more sensible in her own reality. The epiphany is that the parallel universe exists within ourselves, the reflection can only exist within the mirror. As you shift the position of the mirror you absorb more or less light, more or less reflections. What I am looking for is what position will refract all points of light. How can I repair the disconnect between the nonsense. How can I be all dimensions at all times?
I think this was the juxtaposition between Carroll and portmanteau linguistics. The reason the word can be balanced is because it is one of the same, yet, completely different. Carroll managed to bridge each facet of the mirror, for him, there was no going through the looking glass, because it existed everywhere. For Alice, she just needed to figure that out. In some way, Japan has turned the mirror for me, shown light on another dimension. It appears to be made of nonsense, of cultural difference, but I believe that is the illusion and I am here to find my distinction in a thousand points of light.