Seasons of 07
Rewatching Spirited Away after years of not seeing the film as a kid rekindled a nostalgic spark of the past for me, almost igniting hidden memories from childhood. The introduction scene with Chihiro in the car driving away to a new town sucked me into a portal of my childhood which I had subliminally buried away after years of moving from place to place. The way she carelessly sprawled in the back seat sniffing her flowers, taking a walk into the woods with her parents, and the naturalesque scenes in the woods had unburrowed memories of my preadolescence. It had reminded me that I was once like Chihiro, carefree, clueless and a big crybaby who would rush mom and dad out of new and unfamiliar places quickly out of fear during spontaneous trips to unanticipated destinations, yet still being able to enjoy the trip in that fear. Despite being skittish, there was always a moment of calm that would wash over, reminding me that everything would be ok, no matter the destination.
During my childhood, I often played outside in my backyard, like many children. In the summer, the sun would shimmer through the leaves of the trees and glisten on the dewdrops of my mother's garden while the wind blew a refreshing breeze of air, gently nuzzling my hair and swaying the flowers around. Some days while I played in the tall green grass, the smell of salty fish would waft over to me while my dad smoked salmon in the shed. I would lay against a spruce tree in the tall grass and play with the weeds while drooling over the scent of fish. The smell of the salmon was smokey and briny, and sometimes you could almost taste it in the back of your throat, which left a buttery sensation. Occasionally I would stand with my dad in the shed, watching the salmon slowly cook. Sometimes we would chew on a piece while watching the smoke spiral in our direction, out through the door. Periodically I would zone out and stare at the rough wooden walls that were rough and jagged, imagining myself getting a splinter until my dad would interrupt my thought, asking if the smoked salmon was good, to which I always replied with a cheerful nod.
When winter came, the backyard turned into a glittery white and blue winter wonderland. The grass turned into a sparkly cushiony puff soft enough to sleep on if it weren't so cold. It was as if I had my own version of the North Pole in my backyard. The winter atmosphere smelt refreshingly crisp while I puffed out clouds of warm air while playing in the winter powder. When it snowed, I would sit outside in the velvety snow and watch the shimmery snowflakes fall into my hands while the cold gently pinched my nose. When my siblings played together, we built igloos and camels the size of a teen moose and took turns riding it as if it were real. We would have snowball fights, striking each other while watching the little white ball explode into powder when it made an impact. After hours of playing in the snow and watching daylight turn to dusk, we would return to the warmth of our home and eagerly take off our snow gear while watching what was once snow turn into dewdrops and puddles. After gathering around the TV to watch WWE and warming up from the warmth of our home, slowly defrosting our toes, we’d relish warm cups of hot chocolate enjoying the warmth of each other’s company.
After moving out of this home and venturing to new lifestyles quickly after, I grew fearful of the future and how to become “grown”. I would always wonder how I would move on to learn new skills to become “better” in life only to find myself going in circles in seasons of good and bad years. Like Sin, when things seemingly went well for a while life would always have another inconvenience waiting around the corner. There have been moments where I have had to sneak past frogs from being spotted on bridges, working my butt off in bathhouses to stay afloat, and trying to run away from no-face to avoid being eaten alive. Eventually, moments of smoked salmon and snow turned to distant memories being replaced with new frightening encounters. It almost felt as if I had forgotten who I was and where I had come from, nearly like forgetting my own name. Despite going through the challenges of facing monsters and venturing into strange places alone there is always a light to remind you who you are when you can't seem to remember on your own, the way Haku reminded Sin of her true identity.
Though lifes struggles are discouraging and seem everlasting there is still a beauty in it that comes with a reward whether it be being acknowledged for our work, simply discovering our own potential, or even having a story. Meeting new faces along the way can always encourage us to see our potential as individuals, reminding us of who we can become. Creating new relationships is just as important as honoring old ones in a sense that keeps us connected to our roots. Haku seems to balance Sin, reminding her of the past by using her original name in a world that only recognizes the rebranded version of her made by Yubaba. Meanwhile, the bathhouse forces her in a position to become a leader by taking immediate initiative by facing her challenges head-on. The push and pull Chihiro faces in her journey allows her to grow as a somebody by gaining new insight while also staying rooted by remembering her goal to free her parents and not getting overwhelmed in the moment. Maybe climbing crazy stairs and running away from monsters and facing our bosses is what helps us travel train tracks alone and make crazy decisions like choosing which pigs are our real parents. We may be born as Chihiro replaced by Sin but in the end we will always be Chihiro. Rewatching Spirited Away has reminded me that the concept of struggle will only be momentary with the help of those found along the way and the will to trudge through murky waters.
