This Is My Path, and All I Must Do Is Walk It
We don’t need to know why we are who we are, we just gotta be who we are, or we’ll forever remain disharmonious.
Two months ago, after the two-and-a-half-hour bullet train from Osaka, I’d moved to Tokyo. It was evening. I unpacked, then I went to explore my new neighborhood, Nakano. I stumbled upon a Buddhist shrine. The smell of burning incense drifted on the warm spring breeze. I pass through the shrine nearly every day to pay my respects.
It’s one of the most beautiful I’ve been to — not grand or extravagant, but a humble neighborhood shrine. When passing through, I ask the statues for wisdom. They look like travelers. I asked for their guidance when I passed them today.
I’m sitting on a step in the shrine beside some pale blue hydrangeas, their color like a clear sky. It’s an early June morning. The air is soft and subtly fragrant.
I’ve spent the morning walking, thinking about life, pondering the words of my supernatural aid, who’s guided me on my spiritual odyssey.
