Seeking Our Song In a World So Full of Noise
Liberated by the breath of the mountains in Okutama, Japan
It’s a rainy Saturday, and I decide to go about two hours north of Tokyo into the hills of Okutama. Rain falls softly beyond the roof of the station as I stand on the platform, waiting for the train.
I don’t know what the day will contain, but I have coffee in a paper cup warming my hands, a fire in my heart and an adventure in store. I can see a path forward in my life, and it’s following this feeling. This realization makes me wonderfully content.
Life is confusing these days. We’re struggling to hear the music in a world so full of noise. When I stop and listen to the sound of rain, I hear my song.
It’s the beat, the breath, the pulse of whatever reignites the heart of the child who has perhaps lost their way. I’ll chase that ancient melody to the ends of the earth.
The hours pass quickly. People board and alight from the train until few remain. The air is fresh in the mountains, blowing in through the open door at each stop. Notes of autumn speckle the viridescent hills. Saturated clouds drift across the rugged landscape, through which a steely blue river runs.
I pass a stone statue in a garden sprouting with shamrock green clovers. The…
