I woke up Friday morning, got my usual breakfast of peanut butter sandwich and a cup of milk, and sat at the computer to catch up with the news and email. What I saw made the bread and peanut butter taste stale. Images of massive destruction as the ocean rose up and swallowed the coast of Japan after a very large earthquake. This struck me deeply in a way I never would have suspected. See, I once lived in Japan. I speak the language, I count a few of the people there as friend. I even was married to a Japanese woman once, and my children are half Japanese. Luckily no one I knew was in any harm. Still it struck me. I have many memories of that land. I have eaten its food, lived on its earth, breathed its air, drank its waters, prayed at it's shrines. I have studied it's past, and present culture. It is thus that the events felt so personal to me. The loss of life and suffering is just beginning to be counted, but I feel it in my spirit. This is not the first, nor will it be the last time this sort of thing happens in Japan, but I know that the Japanese will stoically get to work, and rebuild. Shikata ga nai. I write this to all my Shinto "cousins", you are in my thoughts and prayers these days. May Ryujin's fury be ended and may the light of Amaterasu-O-Mi-Kami shine upon you once more.