...

I remember the phone call vividly, as if it took place last night. I was sitting on the tatami floor of my tiny apartment in Musashino-shi, speaking to my father about my plans to stay in Tokyo for a while longer. I had just finished my bachelor's degree in cultural anthropology, had just accepted a summer job working on a small archaelogical dig not far from where I lived, and was in a long term relationship that I was hoping would go somewhere.

There was silence on the other end of the line, and I knew my father was not pleased. When he finally spoke, he said, "What is your task in life?" in a tone so full of disappointment that it felt like a stab to my heart. My giving him the news in such a nonchalant way probably contributed to his reaction, and as I write this now I am realizing that what I said must have also hurt him deeply. I don't remember much of the conversation that followed, but it was along the lines of his sharing his concern that I was wasting my time choosing to fool around instead of coming home to make more of myself for the greater good of society.

I knew that he would be disappointed, but was totally unprepared for his reaction. I remember that I began sobbing as soon as I heard the tone of his voice. I, his only daughter, had disappointed him deeply...and that was all that I heard.

The next voice I remember hearing was that of my mother, calming me down until I finally stopped crying. Much later I found out that she had grabbed the phone away from him and asked him if he had known what his task in life was at the age of 22. He probably did. After all, by the age of 14 he was already fighting in Indonesia's fight for independence...and had already experienced directly both losing friends to war.

Fast forward to the present. I just finished watching Lions for Lambs, recommended by a friend who said it inspired him. It's been an hour since I finished watching the movie, and I keep on having to remind myself to breathe...something that only happens when my entire being is deeply affected by something. It's as if everything stops, and I pause, so lost in thought that my breathing slows down till I find myself having to consciously remind myself, "Breathe!"

In many ways, the dialogue that takes place between Robert Redford and one of his students reminds me of that phone call conversation between me and Bapak so many years past... about making responsible choices; choices about living beyond satisfying one's own needs, so that one's life has an impact beyond the self. In my case, I ended up staying in Tokyo for three more years after that phone conversation. Until I finally realized that I was staying for all the wrong reasons. Reasons that - at the time - seemed perfectly logical, but greatly driven by purely selfish reasons...wanting to stay so I wouldn't lose what I had in my personal life.

During the years that followed, I drifted from one job to another, finally returning home to take on a job that I wasn't passionate about, then going on to graduate school ... of which I wasn't particularly passionate about either. I found myself becoming a cog in a wheels that could have happily continued to function without me.

In 2002, the year Bapak passed away, one of our last conversations referred to the work that I was then doing...creating spaces for people to interact honestly with each other, as human beings. "What you are doing," he said, "is something that is very much needed." Inspirit was in its early stages of forming itself, under a different name, but with the same conviction that the only way for change to happen was if people began talking to each other from the heart, with honor and respect for each other as the human beings they truly are.

Our very existence has been to create those spaces for human interaction that are inspiring, creative, and meaningful. And we have been rewarded many fold in many ways by those who have inspired us in return, pushed us to unleash our creativity, and finally reflect on how individually as well as collectively we have learned and grown through each process.

For now, this is my task in life. And I embrace it with all my heart and soul.