In the Language of the Flowers

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✾ Cherry Blossom ✾

Ren taught me once about something called mono no aware, which he in turn learned about from his mother. Once I finally understood it, I came to like its meaning. 

The pathos of things, he explained. A sensitivity to the transience of the world, answered by feelings of both sadness and appreciation. Life, in essence, is bittersweet. Ren told me that this concept is more easily felt in Japan because of the seasons there. An ever-shifting world provides a keen awareness of the passing of time, which is not something all of us can understand. 

But we've all become aware of transience at some point in our lives. The grim reminder of one's first silver hair. The refreshing first blossoms of another spring. Feeling the shape of a brand new word on our tongues. 

I thought of a line from Virgil's famous Aeneid. There are many translations of the original Latin, but in my favorite, the Trojan hero Aeneas says something like, "The world is a world of tears, and the burdens of mortality touch the heart." 

Did Virgil not write of mono no aware? If so, there's certainly something universal about its flavor of impermanence. It might just be the human condition. 

This is what I thought about as I sat there. I don't know how long I sat, but I wasn't startled by her voice when it finally came.

"Oh. Why is everyone always asking me about them? It's always them, them, them..." 

A light turned on. There was a shining silver table in the center of the room, the sort you always see suspects sitting behind in crime TV shows' interrogation rooms. I wasn't sure where the light was coming from, but there was a large camera rig pointed at the table. 

Sallie twiddled her thumbs, bouncing her legs beneath the table and staring into the camera lens. "You guys really are persistent about it," she said, glancing away. 

"We're not persistent. We just want to know." This person's voice was familiar, but I knew I'd never be able to place it. I remember feeling like he was just too different from me. He stood behind the camera, shrouded in darkness.

"Well, I'll tell you, then. And I'm being generous, you know. I don't usually talk to people. They talk to me," she said. 

"What can you tell us?" 

"I can tell you that they are alarmingly enamored. And I do mean to say that sometimes it alarms me."

"Why does it alarm you?" 

She shook her head. "Sometimes..." She crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. Her face fell out of the light. "Sometimes it just feels like they need each other too much." 

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes." 

When she leaned back into the light, she wasn't Sallie anymore. 

"And how about you? Do you think they're 'alarmingly enamored'?"

"Oh, I don't think so," Ai said. "They're definitely in love, but I think that's a good thing. Don't you?" 

"This isn't about me," he said calmly. "We want to know what you think." 

"What I think?" she exclaimed. "Well, who am I to judge? I've never been in love. I chose comfort." 

"You don't think those things can coexist?" 

She frowned. It made her look her age. "Isn't this about them?" 

But he ignored her. "As a person who's never been in love, what advice do you have for them?" 

She leaned forward, pulling her fur coat tightly around her small body. "I don't know that I have any advice, necessarily. But I think they should keep doing what they're doing."