Omoiyari is one of those deliciously inscrutable Japanese words. Roughly translated it means putting others first, but the nuances spread out so far and wide that it would be easier to describe the eyes of your beloved in words than to tease out the many implications of the word omoiyari.

Omoiyari

Omoiyari wears two faces,
though difficult to see sometimes,
the first surrounded by a grace
that beckons us to join her there.

Her second face is rarely seen,
it hides behind her sister's mask,
and there can only wait, deceived
until the first face moves aside.

The riddle of the second face interested me. Others have ventured that the second face was the inverse of the first face. That is, the second face means putting oneself, rather than other first.

Some have suggested that the phrase, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you," is very omoiyari-like. But it is really the opposite. "Do unto others...," is a very ego-centric idea. It suggests one use onself as the standard for how one should treat others. That is not at all what Omoiyari advises people do.

My sense is quite different. If the meaning of the second face is to put oneself first, we would have to conclude that selfishness is the norm which is then deceived by the first face, 'selflessness'. That is hardly what my poem intends. To me, the inverse of 'putting others first' is letting others put me first, when circumstances might warrant. That is quite a different proposition.

What started me thinking about the matter was reflecting on those who actually put others first (despite what we read in the newspapers), in hundreds of small ways every day. Those are people with a genuine inclination to be givers for whom generosity of heart and action is their natural state, but very difficult when it comes to their being the recipients of omoiyari.

I thought about this in light of my own experience with caregiving (certainly one place omoiyari is often expressed.) It seemed to me it is often difficult for people who tend to wear the first face of omoiyari to allow others to attend to their needs.

We often interpret that refusal as an expression of our independent spirit, our freedom, our taking responsibility and so forth. It is tied up with very American and Western ideas about freedom and individuality. I sometimes attribute this trait in myself to my fiercely self-protective need to preserve my autonomy.

But that attitude wears a false face. Permitting others to put oneself first, when warranted, is precisely the state upon which those who have the knack of omoiyari also depend. Otherwise the generosity of omoiyari could not be received. How could one practice omoiyari if everyone only thought of others first?

Such is often the case when we try to help our parents do a task that is very difficult for them, but easy for us to do. They put up a front of wanting to be independent and to do things for themselves but, the deceit of the first face of omoiyari is that they are really not wanting to "burden" us with their needs, not even when it would give us great joy to help them.

It's a tricky business, this false-face thing. It is equally true that people have both a need and a right to be self-directing and to refuse help when it intrudes on their desire to accomplish tasks own their own. This is also true with caregiving. One must be sensitive to the distinction between omoiyari and giving others the space to be independent and do things for themselves. A very tricky balancing task sometimes.