In late November 2023, I had the pleasure of seeing one of my favorite musical artists, Kishi Bashi, and his new documentary film Omoiyari — a Japanese word that loosely translates to empathy and compassion.
In the film, Kishi Bashi explores the history of the Japanese internment camps in the U.S. during World War II. As he learns about the cultural oppression and forced assimilation that the internees experienced, he explores his own identity issues as a second-generation Japanese American and his past efforts to assimilate and self-suppress his Japanese cultural background in order to fit in.
I was surprised to learn that he had experienced identity issues. When I first discovered his music back in 2012 with his debut album 151a, I felt that his music was an antidote to my identity issues. Hearing his songs, all of my being lit up, “This is me!” His music was (and still is) a unique and complex mix of English and Japanese words, poetic, romantic, sad, joyful, and a surprising and rich kaleidoscope of sounds. It was difficult to label or put in a box. But it was beautiful and perfect as it was. His performance style was also one of a kind and unapologetic. I didn’t care about whether he was Japanese or American — I thought his identity was just him, the entire package of who he was. It made me feel good about my own uniqueness and complexity.
I’ve since affirmed over time that the ultimate antidote to identity issues isn’t about figuring out a way to label yourself or to find a way to fit in. The ultimate antidote is self-acceptance.
But the path to self-acceptance isn’t easy. I wish I could say that Kishi Bashi’s music resolved my identity issues, but it was a stepping stone in my journey. Self-acceptance comes with acknowledging the pains of the past when you weren’t accepted, deep healing, and understanding. Self-acceptance usually doesn’t come intellectually. Deep healing occurs on an emotional/energetic level, which is what makes it so challenging.
Omoiyari was ultimately about fostering empathy and compassion for the socially oppressed so we can attain greater social justice. I often find that TCKs are naturally very empathic. It’s easy for many of us to feel compassion for others who are suffering.
The question is, if you can feel empathy and compassion for someone else, can you also extend that same empathy and compassion towards yourself for whatever you may be experiencing now or have experienced in the past?
If you see someone who is feeling sad, scared, or angry because they were judged or rejected, would you give them kindness?
What if that someone were you?
Healing starts with allowing yourself to be kind to yourself. May we all allow ourselves to have omoiyari towards ourselves.