The Unbelievable

I see it on television, and I trust what I see is not CGI, nor old footage edited to look current, but real images of a very tangible catastrophe.

But I am having great difficulty believing in what I am seeing.

For reasons I can't fully fathom, I was able to accept the 2004 Indonesian quake and tsunami as fact in a way I can't yet with Japan's horror. The same ease of acceptance was true with Haiti's nightmare. 'Connecting' with the cruel reality of those earlier disasters and empathizing with the victims came quickly, but I am struggling to believe this new one.

Maybe it's that Japan is so connected with my daily life: my wife drives her Toyota; I ride my Kawasaki; we spool up the Sony Blu-Ray for entertainment. Perhaps I'll strum my made-in-Japan Fender Telecaster, or dust off the Yamaha upright that's been lonely since the kids abandoned their lessons.

Maybe I'll tune in to the motorcycle races to see if Suzuki has anything competitive this year. Or perhaps I'll look again at the Japanese art my wife's cousin creates so well after years of study in Japan.

Japan and things Japanese permeate our lives. We are They, and They are Us. A culture apart yet entwined irrevocably. Their disaster is ours in a way that feels surreal.

But perhaps when I can bear to examine it closely, I'll find the reason I fear to absorb this reality is that I don't want to feel the anguish of empathy. What has happened in Japan is so real I want it not to be real. How else could I pull up behind a Honda in traffic and not cry?