I was so overwhelmed by my own existential pain that, to this very day, I can recall little else about the trip back to Yokuska. O how I did long for a way out of the nightmare that haunted me, both day and night. O how I ached for the physical presence of Mary, as if she embodied the way out. In fact, I was hurting so badly, at one point, I wanted to stand up and scream. But I restrained myself until I reached Yokuska, where I could no longer contain the rage brewing within me.
Like a branch on a huge sycamore tree, did I extend a clenched fist into the dark night which overshadowed my soul. In a Herculean effort to free myself from the chains that fettered me to the earth, I cursed the day I was born. I cursed my parents for having pulled me down from the heavens into this wretched life. And I cursed God for having allowed this travesty to take place. I hated my parents not only for what they’d done, but also for the life they’d squandered away. I hated them. “I hate you,“ I finally screamed out into the night sky with a clenched fist.
Like the bursting of a long awaited thundershower upon parched earth, did I break down and cry. “Forgive them God,“ I sputtered in between sobs, “for they know not what they have done.“
As I caught sight of the ship, out of the corner of my eye, I flew into yet another rage. With a clenched fist, I reached out, only this time to condemn the crew of the ship. “I hate you,“ I screamed out in between fits of sobbing. “I hate all of you lousy bastards.“ But in my heart of hearts, I knew I didn’t hate them either, for they too knew not what they had done. Only I found it harder to forgive them since I, who was like them in so many ways, would ultimately have to forgive myself.
Sobbing uncontrollably, as I stumbled along, I beat my chest with clenched fists. “Ah,“ I screamed out. “I hate you. I hate this body. I hate this life.“
As this psychic storm brought relief to my desolateness, I found myself standing right smack dab in the middle of the shipyard, laughing, of all things, while I finished crying, for I had just grasped the true meaning of forgiveness. In releasing my hatred for my parents and the crew of the ship, I had simply released my own hatred of myself. In the past, I had failed to see that what I hated in them, I actually hated about myself, for I was treating myself in the same manner they were mistreating themselves and others, only in ways yet barely visible to me. And since none of us knew what we were really doing to ourselves or to each other, I had to forgive them for their trespasses if I was to find forgiveness for mine. In letting go of the hatred that’d clenched my fist, I freed forgiveness from not only my hand but heaven’s as well, for what is loosed on earth shall be loosed in heaven. More importantly, I freed myself from the chain of hatred, which binds us all to instinctively taking an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth in a heinous repetition of history from one generation to the next.
Like a drunken man who has come to his senses, did I slip onboard the ship, hardly noticed, and slither down the ladder to my sleeping quarters. Instead of lying down, I decided to stay up and write Mary a letter. Only this time, after recounting the events of my trip into Tokyo, including my encounter with Jun, I purposely left off telling her, as usual, how much I loved her. Thus did I deal with the other chain that bound me to the earth like the roots of a huge sycamore tree.
