The Japanese Bride

"Der yer want dis one to go too, Mia?" Consuela asks as she carries the Mac computer out from the storage closet.

"Yep," I say and point to the pile of other stuff that I'm going to sell.

"I iz dunno about dis Craigslist," Consuela mumbles as she bends over to place the computer on the floor near the pile of purses, shoes, and housewares.

"I know," I say to her. After all, wasn't there a Craigslist killer? I'm actually looking forward to getting rid of some of this stuff...it's just sitting here; in my apartment -- and I desperately could use the cash.

Consuela walks back into the bedroom to forage for some more goodies, and I stare stoically at the screen trying to figure out how I'm going to stretch what little money I have left to me.

I'm officially an almost-starving artist.

Sigh.

Consuela comes back out with some trinkets, and memorabilia from my travels. When I think about how I would sneak some of them past border guards -- and how I one day dreamed of having a mansion with a living room adorned with the stuff; it saddens me that I'm going to be selling it. But, if this all works out -- I'll be able to travel again. I'll be able to go back and buy more treasures.

For now, I need to stay in the problem-solving mode of my brain. I need cash -- and I can't sit and look at pretty things any longer because they aren't paying the bills.

I walk over to Consuela who is sorting through my treasures and pick up one that I really love.

"This one," I say to her, "This one -- I need to keep." It's a Japanese wooden doll. The villagers presented it to me the day I left Japan; as a way of saying 'thank you for coming' and, 'we really hope you actually find someone who will marry you soon'. It's a wooden bride; and although at 24, marriage was the last thing on my mind, I see it now as an object filled with good intentions. So, I want to keep it -- even if it means going without my vitamins this month. No one else will love it and appreciate it the same way that I do.

"What iz her, Mia?" Consuela asks and places it on the coffee table away from the other merchandise.

"It's a Japanese bride," I say -- and laugh.

I wonder how horrified they would be now -- 7 or so years later, to find out that I am still not married? At the time I politely took the gift, and as I got into the van to head to the airport I rolled my eyes...because to them, I only mattered as an individual if someone married me. They couldn't place me as a single, liberated woman. I was strange to them.

When I was 24 it annoyed me. But now, I look back on it in a different way. Now I think they were worried about me being on my own and wanted to know that someone would be there for me. So now, I love the doll -- because it symbolizes their affection for me; not their judgement.

Funny how the same token or action can have two different perspectives depending on your state of mind...

"Whatz her name, Mia?" Consuela asks as she pulls down some board games to add to the pile on the floor. I guess she saw me drifting into space, and staring at the doll. The doll doesn't have a name -- because up until this very moment I haven't named her; I didn't appreciate her as much as I realize I do right now.

"I don't know..." I say and pick the doll back up again. Her wooden face stares back at me; only slightly dented from some sharp object in my suitcase, no doubt.

"What should we name her?" I say to Consuela, who walks over and picks up the doll in her chubby little hands.

"Iz yer doll Mia, yer should give da name, ok?" says Consuela as she hands the doll to me and then walks over to the kitchen to pull out appliances and plates that I no longer need.

I can't believe in the midst of a life-crisis, I'm actually taking a moment to name a wooden doll that I can't part with.

What should I name her?

What does she symbolize?

When I first got her, I was insulted. Now, I am flattered. There's a duality to this doll that represents me, my thought life, and how I see the world...

Does everything have that effect? Is everything painted a certain way depending on how you feel about it? Can people morph in front of you just like the doll has for me over the course of time?

And if people change...is it really that they've changed? Or my perspective on them has changed?

I walk back to my desk and grab a coffee. My thoughts are getting too convoluted; and I need to get back to work.

Consuela comes out from the kitchen with an array of unused kitchen utensils and accessories -- that I once thought were so important and couldn't live without; and now, they are of no consequence.

My brain flexes and I think I feel a headache coming on. My thoughts are spinning. I'm starting to see that everything I think I know is only a reflection of my state of mind; of my interpretation of the situation -- of my perspective.

"So, what yer iz name her, Mia?" Consuela asks as she dumps some more stuff on the floor.

"Reika," I say and turn back to my desk.

"Whatz it mean?" Consuela asks as she pulls some books down from the shelf.

"It doesn't mean anything," I say, "I just think she looks like a Reika."

And with that, I sit back at my laptop and continue to write.