Some things that make me feel alive: climbing things, observing tiny worlds, realizing I know nothing about time and space. Halfway between Osaka and Hokkaido, life on the road is a thrilling challenge of being and trusting synchronicity.
Too tired to think, my mind knows the truth: The parts that form and crease with time will fit just right and you will find that you know just what to do and when you flex you will move in just the right way.
Tojinbo is a revealing of rock columns stabbing out between the ocean and Japan in Fukui prefecture. The angle they stab out at is so consistent and odd that I keep losing my balance while climbing and jumping; seeking the horizon to realize that I am in fact standing vertically and not falling. I enjoy exploring my relative physical capabilities in this way.
In the rainy season there is an almost constant curtain of beautiful clouds moving across the sky. The mushrooms and flowers bloom in their regular hydration. And the snails glide all over the place. On Sado Island, in a park that is a high up barrier between the Sea of Japan and the town of Ogi, there was one particular snail with particularly long ocular appendages that caught my attention. Cameras these days can show us the most amazing things, of worlds that we will never know, that our eyes cannot see. We can observe them in real time and record their majesty to behold again and again.
Being in the right place at the right time is a spectrum. As I feel the flow, in sync with the world, from rest stop to train station to on ramp to ferry terminal, I see what’s important in the present moment. I see what I am capable of doing, I know what I must do and do it. Everything clicks.
I wonder simultaneously, what if I were not here now, would I be flowing somewhere else? Where in the world do I need to learn these lessons and have these experiences. On the other side of the planet from where I was born, what a better place to feel how far from and close to any experience I could ever have as a human on planet earth.