A Rainbow In The Dark

On Tuesday Eri took me around to a few new places. One was Rokkaku, a fantastic stationary store located just north of Shijo-dori. I was very impressed by the place, and will most likely have my meishi (business cards) printed up there. The second new place was a French patisserie just around the corner from Rokkaku. It is called Au Grenier D’or, and what a magnificent place it is! The entrance hall is very modest, with three tables for two neatly arranged to one side of it. However, the hallway leads into a very spectacular main room, with a large ornate couch to the right, and displays of desserts everywhere else. To the left was a large display of little individually wrapped cakes, including framboise, a delicious pine nut and butter crunch bar, and the classic madeleines, with a bowl of pieces of another nut infused cake to sample. Next to that was a table displaying more individually wrapped goodies, along with a bowl of sweetened almonds and a jar of jam to try. The main counter at the back is a huge display case of eye-catching desserts, including slices of raspberry linzer tart, a cake that was literally packed to bursting with a variety of nuts, and some delicate looking chocolate cakes. There were several other delectables, as well as a lot of empty platters, since it was around 5pm already. I was also drawn to the creative display of raw pistachio nuts, colorful veggies, huge chunks of chocolate, and dried fruits that were seamlessly woven through out the displays.

While we were walking across the Kamogawa, Eri pointed out a Rainbow to the north. We stopped to take it in, then noticed there were two more rainbows, one to either side of the first one. It was breath-taking. The light of the sky was cloudy, but the colors of the first rainbow were vibrant. We could make out every color individually, even as the edges seamlessly flowed into one another. I was inspired, and told Eri if I could speak fluent Japanese, I would weave the rainbow into my class theme that evening. She said she could translate an intro for me before class if I would like. 

As the universe would have it, we never did get the chance, and I arrived at the class about a half hour before it began. As I warmed up my body, I thought about that rainbow, and was determined to bring it into the class to the best of my ability. I couldn’t let such an auspicious sign be ignored. So I began class by asking if anyone had seen the rainbow, except I briefly misspoke, and said hiji (elbow) instead of niji (rainbow), which gave everyone a good laugh. I let them know there were three, then said that rainbows are signs of grace. Eri was in the front row, beaming her happiness and support at my Japanese improvisation. I continued with my scripted intro, giving a nod to the “Rainbow Connection” at one other point after we had closed our eyes and were harmonizing the breath. My theme was listening deeply. I taught my sequence, allowing the Shakti to guide my words so I could be receptive to the right place to bring in the rainbow again, and the opportunity blossomed with ease. I taught a partner version of virabhadrasana III, where everyone opened their arms in a ‘T’, and held on to one another, then closed their eyes. I asked them to feel one another’s presence and breath. After releasing back to tadasana, I asked them to observe that they were like the rainbow, each a unique “color”, seamlessly joining together to form a vibrant display. On the second side, I asked them to feel that rainbow, then feel that they were each not just an individual color, but the entire rainbow itself. It was the most free-flowing class I have taught since coming to Japan.

Fell On Black Days

First, a photo of my Sunday evening dinner.

Onigiri, flavored with the most divine ume (plum) flavored sesame seeds, with sheets of nori to wrap around each one, a miso of kabocha, mushrooms, tofu, and negi (green onion). Enjoyed with a simple green tea, and Brad Mehldau’s Art Of The Trio Vol. 3: Songs. Very simple and tasty.

Monday morning I had a fantastic meditation, and an insight into impermanence that will make a good lecture/workshop. I borrowed Eri’s bike to get to my morning Kyoto class. I taught about spanda, and was happy to have many questions after, which Kumiko and Melissa helped translate. First, Tokiko had a knee issue we addressed, then Asuka had a question about head placement and gaze in bakasana, and Mokoto asked for more insight into the nature of pulsation (myakudou). This was the most questions following a class I have had in Japan, and I was delighted to answer each one to the best of my ability.

I left class on a high. Outside the classroom, Momoe handed me a letter from Tim. It was not good. I decided I needed to read it outside, so I biked over to the Kamogawa to sit down at the riverbank. Tim had taken the time to meticulously and carefully address my unskillfulness in residing at his place. I felt the pit of my stomach drop, and my heart contract. What Tim had written about my time at his place was true. I had been so engulfed in teaching in another language, finding a place to live, and navigating the myriad challenges that arose along the way, that I had neglected many aspects of being a good guest. Though I had bought food, cooked several times, and thanked him continuously for his assistance, I had not overtly offered any restitution. I had planned to get him a gift once I got paid, and also to take him and his fiance, Maya, out for a nice dinner. However, I hadn’t made these intentions clear to him, and so he rightly supposed that I was not really showing my gratitude in full. It was inexcusable. I am in the process of making amends, and hope I can salvage our friendship.

In addition to this hard insight, Eri has received word from Yamaguchi-san of Choei (the apartment rental company) that he is trying to cancel my contract. This means I could get all of the money I put in back. “Could” is the operative word. I thought it was a done deal after our meeting, but it looks like I “could” be out 127,660 yen, which was all I had here until my first paycheck.

I am also dealing with Studio Yoggy in a very interesting turn of events. Japan is sometimes referred to as the “Gift Culture”. When someone does a favor for you, they expect a gift in return, acknowledging the favor. It is not good enough to show gratitude with words. There has to be a material object of some sort. I have not been following that protocol, and now have to convene a meeting of every member of the staff of Yoggy to try to explain my lack of knowledge and skill in this area. Once again, I was already planning on purchasing something for each of the four women who assisted me with the apartment hunt, but I have not been paid yet. I’m now wondering who else I may have overlooked.

Apartment. House money. Tim. Yoggy.

I suddenly realized that almost all of these issues arise from a particular form of mind animal, chained to a wall in the very far recesses of the cave of my consciousness. Its name is Scarcity. This is a mind animal I haven’t experienced in a long time. Here, though, it has been given ample room to grow. Between my lack of funds, borrowing of money from different sources, and all of my savings now held in the precarious hands of an institution that has proven, so far, to be untrustworthy, I really shouldn’t be surprised.

Thank the Goddess for Eri. She and I dialogued on the phone at length about what I need to do to show my intentions are good to the Yoggy staff. I spent two hours Monday composing letters of gratitude. Tomorrow, they will be translated into Japanese by Eri, then copied by hand by me. I hope to deliver them all by Wednesday.

After the letter writing, I decided to transcribe a bit of a Paul teleconference. The universe speaks in so many ways, and tonight, it was through Paul. At one point, Paul said, “No matter what time it is, there is always a grace period.” He was speaking in reference to our studies, and added, that “...there is time and grace and an abundance of possibility that ‘I can continue what I need to do’ even if there is a lag or a lapse...more abundance is there, more possibility is there”. It was just what I needed to hear. Those words helped me release the contraction of my heart. I know that I have made some mistakes, but there is always the possibility to make amends. There is always the possibility for things to shift out of a contractive state into an expansive state.

Eri called to say that she was a bit worried about me, and decided to return this evening instead of tomorrow. I made dinner for the two of us; salmon, left over miso and onigiri and was greatly comforted by her presence.

The Velocity Of Life

The last two weeks have flown by. I have been carried through them as if on wings that have caught a fast-moving jet stream. Last Thursday, the 6th, I moved into my first official Kyoto apartment. Unfortunately, the representative of the rental company, Ishimoto-san, misrepresented the space. It was supposed to be exactly like the unit I had been shown. However, it was different in a couple of ways, the most glaring of which is the lack of a second closet. To paraphrase Tim, in Japan it is not the size of the living space that matters, but the area of closet space it contains. Also, in Japan, it is common to not complain about these mistakes. I did. I wanted out of the contract, and all of my money refunded, including our moving costs, especially since Eri had sent things back to her family’s home in Yokohama in addition to sending things to the apartment.

A brief pause to explain the costs of renting in Japan. There are several fees:

- the rent (yachin)
- the deposit; as in the U.S., returned at the end of the contract, although in Japan there is a tendency to receive under half of this back with apartment rentals, even if it is left exactly in the same condition it was at the outset of the contract
- “gift money”; this is a fee paid to the company/owner of the unit, and is not refundable; depending on whether it is an apartment or house one is renting, the gift money can be anywhere from 50,000 to 250,000 yen ($500-$2500 U.S.); sometimes this fee is waived
- “smile pack”; usually only charged with apartments; this is a cleaning fee of 10,000 yen ($100)
- maintenance fee; for the monthly upkeep of the facility, added on to the rent, around 5500 yen ($55) per month
- key fee; 5000 yen ($50), and a second key is another 2500 yen ($25)
- intermediary fee; a one-time fee paid to the representative of the owner of the unit/house, based on a percentage of the rent
- fire insurance; 15,000 yen ($150) paid to an insurance company, usually good for two years, and transferrable to wherever one moves during that time

After much time spent by Eri on the phone that day, I finally asked her to set up a face to face meeting with Ishimoto-san’s boss, Yamaguchi-san. At this point, the only things Yamaguchi had promised Eri he would refund was our moving costs and the second month of rent I had paid up front. That left about 37,500 yen ($375) worth of extraneous costs still owed. It may seem like a small amount, but I had given them all of the money I had, with a small bit left over to carry me through until my first paycheck. I needed to impress upon Yamaguchi-san the urgency of my situation.
The nice thing about these companies is they are very cordial, so Eri and I were picked up in a company car, and driven to the office. We had a sit down meeting, with Ishimoto-san silently seated to the right and behind his boss. I let Eri and Yamaguchi-san dialogue a bit, adding in a small comment of my own here and there, for about 10 minutes. I needed for him to understand first-hand the experience I was having. Then I noticed the silver band on his left ring finger, a wedding band. I spoke in English directly to Yamaguchi-san, my eyes meeting his, as Eri translated. I said, “You’re married, yes?” He confirmed my guess. I then said, “Imagine you and your wife are in a foreign country, trying to find a place to live. You get a place, spend all of your savings on it, then find out you were lied to by the representative of this space. Wouldn’t you hope that someone would set things right?” His energy shifted. After another few minutes of dialogue, he said he would try his best to get all of the money refunded to us. This still was not good enough. I said, “Yamaguchi-san, I don’t want a maybe. I want your word, your promise, that you will personally make sure we get the full amount of money refunded.” I could see his mind turning that over. After a long pause, he gave us his word.
Since that day, Eri and I have been very busy. Eri has had to do all of the communication, so she has spent a lot of time on the phone, in continuous dialogue with several different realtors. Both of us have gone to see many spaces, in between my teaching and Eri’s preparation and successive interviewing for a new job in Kyoto. We also spent many hours at the Falafel Garden, a wonderful cafe near Demachi-Yanagi station, and the only place in Kyoto with free wi-fi.

The second floor of Falafel Garden, our home away from home.

Our favorite corner table.

On Tuesday, the 11th (auspicious number!) we were shown what will become our new home. In the northwest part of Kyoto, nestled into a very quiet neighborhood, a gentleman by the name of Takekawa-san (“bamboo river”), has built the most gorgeous little Japanese-style house. He did it as a labor of love, because of his love of the craft. The house, while traditional in design, has modern amenities and plenty of space. Throughout the inside of the house, he inserted non-traditional styles of wood, so there are different grains woven into the design that add a unique feel to it. When we first stepped inside, we were greeted by the strong smell of sweet cedar. We move in on the 1st of December.
On the 10th, Eri got a call back for a second interview for her new job opportunity. That night, we went out to celebrate at Frigo, a lovely Italian restaurant on Imadegawa. The food was amazing! Fantastic flavors, and lovely presentation. The space itself is cozy, and the couple running the place were warm and inviting. We began our meal with a bottle of Spumante, warm Italian bread with olive oil, peanuts in the shells, and gobou, a Japanese root vegetable. Eri informed me this is usually very fibrous. However, it seemed to have been marinated for a long time in olive oil and lemon, with light seasoning, which made it supple and tender. The chef had then added in sundried tomatoes. It was delicious! Eri had an entree of linguini with iwashi (sardines) minced into a wonderful cream sauce. I ordered a risotto with porcini mushrooms and kuri (chestnuts). Both dishes were divine. We ended our meal with a piece of chocolate cake, both moist and perfectly sweet. For the first time, I even indulged in a cup of espresso. Heavenly!

Cozy atmosphere...

...plus delectable food...

...equals two happy diners!

Friday evening I slept well, a good eight hours, but I was still a bit tired Saturday. I have been teaching about spanda, or pulsation. This is an intrinsic part of life that can be explored at depth and breadth, and still only scratch the surface of the surface of its connotations. I enjoy teaching about it, because another layer of understanding always opens in the process. On Friday morning, after class, the students and I had a short discussion, which became a great teaching for me too. They were still a little vague in their understanding. I talked of how Opening to Grace was allowing ourselves to see from the universal view, then we bring it back to individual effort (kojinno doryoku) with Muscular Energy as we engage with ourselves. Organic Energy is the individual offering (sasagemasu) back into the universal as we actively expand our presence into the great expanse of life. It’s the first time I have actually talked about it in that way. This is why I love questions!
Friday evening I had an interesting vision during meditation. I don’t normally get visuals, so it stood out. The image of a hedge garden arose in my mind’s eye, but it appeared as if I was looking through a smoky piece of glass. Then I recognized it as a mirror. I was gazing into a reflection in which I wasn’t seeing myself, but what was around and behind me. I had the distinct impression of a labyrinth, even though the hedges were all chest height, with several spacious sitting areas within their borders. The reflection then seemed to reflect back upon itself and form what appeared to be hedge gardens going on forever. Eri had left Friday morning to visit her family and friends in Yokohama, so I spoke with her later that evening about this experience. She told me that during her train ride that day she had passed through Shizoka, a province famous for their tea, just south of Yokohama, and she had seen a very similar looking garden as she passed through. To me, it’s just another indication of our connection. The universe speaks to us constantly, and since I have been here, I feel like it has been chatting incessantly, guiding me in the most exquisite ways.
Since Eri is away this weekend, I am attempting to cook some of the traditional Japanese dishes she has made for me. Saturday night I made yakisoba (fried noodles), using cabbage, ninjin (carrots), nasu (eggplant), and tamanegi (white onion). It’s simple to make. Veggies into an oiled and heated wok, and once cooked, add the yakisoba itself, along with the powdered mixture of sauce, stir it up, and in no time dinner is served. It is quite yummy, and nurturing. With my version I drank a wonderful genmai (brown rice) tea. A simple and satisfying meal.

 

Tonight I will attempt a miso soup and onigiri, both of which Eri has taught me to make. Ganbatte!

Purnatva

I have been swept into a fantastic whirlwind of activity and non-activity over the last six days, all of which have kept me, for the most part, away from my computer. This is unusual for me, and has been a tremendous gift. I have simultaneously experienced the moment to moment immediacy of life in all its surface level reality, while being paradoxically drawn into the depths of my heart.

Purnatva is a sanskrit word meaning “perfect fullness”. It is the experience of feeling perfectly contented with existence, of receiving what is exactly needed, no more or less, in any given moment. This is the way we are meant to live. To quote Gandhi, “There will always be enough for people’s needs, but never enough for people’s greeds.”

Wednesday

I met downtown with a new friend, Eri, to attend the Jidai Matsuri, or Festival of Eras. This is held annually in Kyoto on October 22nd, and commemorates the transfer of the capital to Kyoto in 794, the 1100 years it remained the capital (until being moved to Tokyo in 1868), and the completion of the Heian Jingu-jinja where the procession ends. Basically, there is a long parade of people garbed in the costumes representative of the 1100 years that Kyoto was the capital of Japan.

Eri had been at Kiyomizu, where she was working as a volunteer to assist a couple of local artists that are showing pieces there right now. During high tourist activity, the temple hosts local artists so they can get some exposure. We met around 12:30pm, and Eri was ready for lunch. I recommended the onigiri stand (of course), and we sat at the temple while she ate. We got so absorbed in our conversation we missed the parade. Neither of us had any plans for the rest of the day, so we went to Starbucks for a hot drink and something sweet. We spent over three hours talking. The conversation flowed effortlessly, in a sweet pulsation, the rhythm of our words mixing with the jazz flowing from the cafe’s speakers.

We had dinner together too, at Tim’s house, and a lovely walk in the rain afterwards to a nearby park.

A wonderful day of time unwinding in a slow, sinuous dance.

Thursday

I spent the morning and afternoon with Eri, and we visited Pan Do Ra Di, a bakery near Tim, owned and operated by a monk who makes this amazing bread called shichikoku (“seven grains”), and a fantastic little fig and walnut cake. We bought plenty of both, then returned to Tim’s just in time to catch him in between classes. I had bought him a slice of the fig cake. He exclaimed, “That’s perfect. I was craving something sweet.” Eri and I had lunch, and then she went home.

I used the rest of the afternoon to catch up on some much neglected studying, then prepared dinner for Tim and I in the evening. I love salmon, and had bought two large pieces at the Kyoto Coop. I made the rest of the box of red quinoa I had sent over from SF (Thanks, Meredith!), and stir-fried broccoli, porcini mushrooms, garlic, eggplant, and cashews to complete the feast. Tim is the constant at the center of my life in Kyoto. Without his gracious sharing of his home, knowledge of the area, and language expertise I can imagine it would not be as easeful a relocation as it has been.

Friday

The first day of my “work week”. I was looking forward to going to Shinsaibashi this day, because Jordan Bloom, an Anusara teacher from South Africa presently based in Maryland, would be there. He is teaching throughout Japan for a month, and this was his first weekend. Jordan is a thoughtful, observant being, who has a genuine love for teaching. He is enthusiastic, and wants to give the students the most he can each time he sees them.

When I arrived at Shinsaibashi, the training was still in session. I practiced in the second studio for over an hour, and it was a pure delight to play in the flow of the breath, alternately surfing the waves and diving into the depths with my awareness. A practice that brought forth an equal measure of joy and insight.
I finished just before Jordan. When he emerged from the room, and we saw one another it was big smiles and hugs. We chatted only briefly, but began to figure out a good night for he, Tim, and I to get together. Chiho was translating for him, and the first thing she said to me was, “Have you eaten?” She had made up a bento (boxed lunch) for herself, but hadn’t eaten it. She graciously offered me her food, so I once again didn’t need to go out for a bite.
I walked over to Nanba-jinja. It was closed, but I sat on the steps facing a smaller, less travelled street, and happily ate the yummy little sandwiches she had made.
I had another fun class, then a relaxing train ride to Eri’s.

Saturday

A day of indulging the simple joys of Eri’s presence and leisurely meals.
Eri made a delightful late breakfast of miso with tofu, daikon, and negi, and an omelette filled with chopped carrots, mushrooms and soy. There was also a bowl of diced tomatoes drizzled in olive oil, pepper and salt to add to the omelette, and a lovely green tea.
I then set off for Shinsaibashi, and had a wonderful time teaching. After class, I met Eri to go to an Indian restaurant she frequents, called Indoryouri Gulbabu (Indo is Japanese for India, and ryouri means “cooking”). I am assuming that Gulbabu is the name of the attentive gentleman who kept checking in on us. Eri and I both had the vegetarian dinner. Each meal arrived laid out on a large metal platter. There were two curries, vegetable and garbanzo bean, along with saag paneer and a simple salad with a yogurt dressing, each in their own metal ramekin. Along with this was a small bowl of sweet yogurt flavored with goat cheese, a pakora, and a crispy super thin chip (I can’t recall what it is called). On a ceramic plate was a huge piece of naan and a small side of saffron rice. Included in the meal was a mango lassi. Everything was perfectly flavorful, and we spent over two hours enjoying our meal and conversing. We didn’t get back to Eri’s until around 11:30pm, and I slept well.

Sunday

Eri left the apartment before me this morning, and had left a delicious little blueberry and cream cheese bread for my breakfast. I was out of the apartment soon after her for my usual Sunday of class in Kyoto, onigiri, then off to Shinsaibashi. It was raining out, so I borrowed an umbrella from her, and thought, “When I move into my place I should have an extra umbrella or two for guests.”
After my Shinsaibashi class, Jordan invited me to go out with him and the staff for dinner, but I wanted to go back to Tim’s to see him and Maya, and try to get to bed a bit earlier than I had for the past four nights.
On the train ride back from Osaka, a sarariiman sat next to me. “Salary Man” is the name for the typical Japanese businessman, usually dressed in a dark suit, pants and shoes, white shirt, and tie (color optional). One of the requisites for these beleaguered businessmen is to go out almost every evening with their coworkers to drink and bond. The result is that many of these men have a strong smell of stale beer and cigarettes emanating from their person on their way home. My first reaction was, “Egads, how unlucky.” After being drawn into that small thought pattern for a few minutes, I chastised myself for being so small. I was reading a book, and he too had pulled out a book. I looked sideways at him a little more closely, and saw he was slightly smiling too. The thought occurred that, had we shared the same language, we might even engage in a conversation about the authors we enjoyed. This allowed me to relinquish my narrowness, and the smell that had seemed so overpowering at first receded. As we travelled, I noticed he kept nodding off then nap-jerking back awake when the train stopped at a station. Finally, at one stop, he opened his eyes, squinted and looked around, then jumped up with the utmost urgency, and made a mad dash for the door to cross the platform to the other side into a waiting local train. My train set off, and it was then I noticed he had left his umbrella. 

My guests will thank him.
I arrived at Tim’s, and he had once again put aside dinner for me. It was a nice Indian curry with copious amounts of veggies and rice. Simply lovely.

Monday

At the end of my morning Kyoto class, while the students were in savasana, I was playing a name game with myself. I tried to recall each person's name as I moved my attention from mat to mat. As I did this I realized most of the class were students who come steadily, often twice a week. I was filled with an immense wave of gratitude for their dedication to the practice, and acceptance of me as their teacher.

I met Eri at her place around 6pm. Both of us were in need of a good dinner, so we went to the KC to buy some groceries. Eri enjoys cooking, and spent nine months in Italy, where she cooked every day. We had a four course meal, beginning with a carrot soup she had made the night before. It was a clear broth base with large chunks of carrots, diced potatoes, and tomatoes, spiced with salt, pepper, and curry powder. It was heavenly! She also made a tomato sauce containing black olives and maiitake mushrooms, for our pasta course. After that we each had a small slice of cod, pan-fried with curry powder. The last course was a salad of butter lettuce, walnuts, raisins, and gorgonzola cheese, with a dressing of grape seed oil, lemon, salt, and pepper. Oishikatta!

It has been a full six days, so perfect in every way.

Three Days

Another full weekend. As I begin to truly settle into the rhythm of the Kansai area, my days here become more and more extraordinary.

Friday

While riding the Hankyuu to Osaka, a woman sat beside me. She was exceptionally thin, and carrying a straight black cane. She wore a beige kangol style cap, and matching dress jacket and pants. Her hair was short, jet black, and contoured to her skull. From her left ear dangled two turquoise earrings, and behind them were two silver studs. A pair of black, thick-framed sunglasses with bottle green lenses completed her ensemble. Her energy was quiet and elegant.

About three stops after she sat down, she asked me, doko ni ikimasu ka ("Where are you going?"). I responded, Umeda ni ikimasu ("I am going to Umeda."). She made a "hmm" sound, and grew quiet. I turned back to continue studying my class script, but felt an internal nudge to continue the conversation. I asked her where she was going. She answered, "Juso", which is the stop right before mine. She then asked where I was going again, but I inferred that this time she meant what particular place. So I told her Studio Yoggy. She exclaimed, "Yoyogi?!" It is only now that I realize she probably thought I had said Yoyogi Park, which is in Tokyo and would have meant I was going the wrong way. I then said it was a yoga studio, but she still seemed not to understand, so I said, watashi wa yoga no sensei desu ("I am a yoga teacher."). She made an "ahh" sound, then grew quiet again. I returned to my script. She then rummaged through her oversized handbag, and pulled out a large snack pack of potato sticks. She tapped me on the shoulder, and when I turned to face her she indicated that I should take the snack pack. 

Now, as strange as this exchange may seem, just moments before she sat down I had been contemplating what else I could purchase for lunch. I had brought a few things with me, and at the forefront of my contemplation was that I didn't want to spend much money.

I thanked her for her gracious offer. She replied very quickly, so I didn't quite catch all of what she said. However, she made a gesture with her right hand like she was clearing tears from her eye, then laughed, and I could have sworn I heard her say naku, which is the word for "to cry".

Right then we arrived at Juso. I thanked her again, and she said, in English, "See you later," as she departed the train.

I paused, to really take in what had transpired, and I felt a wave of spirit arise in my heart, and felt as if I wanted to cry! It was a deep gratitude for the amazing connectivity of the universe. One could say that potato sticks seem rather trite, but it was a gift given, and to not fully appreciate it would be to ignore the magic inherent in that moment.

I arrived at Uehonmachi, practiced a bit with an emphasis on my right psoas, which had been particularly vocal the past few days - not painful, just very communicative in its need to be stretched well. I began class with my theme, then we chanted. As we did the third round of the Anusara invocation I felt that wave again, cascading powerfully up and out of my heart. I was overcome by bliss. Laughter bubbled up inside of me so much so I could barely chant the last time through.

Then, at the end of class, when the students were in shavasana, I felt my right psoas relax and expand a bit, and there was a very subtle release deep within the musculature. It felt wonderful.

After my class at Uehonmachi, Akiho, one of the staff, had a message for me from Tomoko: LOHAS had stepped in as the guarantor for my apartment, thus sealing the deal. I now have a place to live, and will move in on the 6th of November.

The rest of the day was business as usual.

And the potato sticks were yummy. 

Saturday

I woke up an hour and a half late for what was to be my last Saturday morning class at Uehonmachi. However, I still arrived 20 minutes early, thanks to a limited express train. In between my classes I went to a little takoyaki (spheres of batter, filled with diced or whole baby octopus, then topped with a sauce and mayo) place in Shinsaibashi. On Friday, Miho had directed me to a river that runs through Shinsaibashi as a quiet place to sit. The sitting area was closed, but not a half a block away was the takoyaki stand. Friday evening, Eri also contributed to my Saturday lunch by giving me a map she had printed out of the area around Yoggy. On it she circled three parks, and then marked where Yoggy and Namba-jinja were in relation to them. Another great gift. 

So, I had a lovely little lunch in the park closest to the takoyaki stand. It has a huge playground on one side, around which were clustered Moms and Dads, with their children clambering about on slides, jungle gyms, swings, and other playground apparatuses. On the opposite side of the park are two large, flat, sandy spaces. I sat in the hub, just between these two sides, where I could view the park in its entirety. I was treated to several delightful and interesting spectacles. The first was a group of six children, about 8-10 years old, playing a game of tag where one child kept yelling out ohayou gozaimasu ("good morning!"). One of the sandy areas was completely devoid of vegetation. In this one stood four elders - three women and one man -playing a Japanese game that resembled croquet. There was an easel set up with a large scoreboard, and they all played with an intense focus. In the second square were about 15-20 teens, all Japanese, except for one African guy. They had used white tape to outline a "runway" and "stage". At the stage end sat seven or eight of the women, and at the opposite end of the runway, under a very modest tree, stood all six guys and about five girls. They had a small boom box churning out techno beats, and the guys and girls on the runway end were taking turns strutting down their makeshift catwalk.

After lunch, I taught my class, then headed home. 

Maya was up for a visit, and I was delightfully surprised to find she and Tim had prepared a wonderful dinner. Maya's auntie had mailed a large box of organic veggies from Daisen to Tim's home. It was a delicious dinner of kamaboko (a roll of tasty white fish compressed into a cylinder around a scrumptious potato), mushrooms sauteed in a garlic paste Tim's friend Rebecca had made, a delightful little salad of carrots and shungiku (chrysanthemum leaves), green peppers, some tiny little potatoes that looked like black olives, and a lovely little onion soup.

A perfect ending to a great day.

Sunday

 

After teaching my morning class in Kyoto, I went to the onigiri stand for lunch. After making my purchase, I walked into the small temple area behind the stand, and sat on the wide stone wall of the chouzuya. I had the whole space to myself for a leisurely lunch. After eating, I just sat in the quietude of the enclosed area. A gentle breeze came up, ruffling the large purple banner hanging over the entrance of the temple. The leaves on the trees rustled, and in that moment I was filled with the simple joy of being. No thoughts of classes or studies, of places to go or places I have been. Just being.

At Shinsaibashi, I made my first purchase for my apartment from the local hyakkin, or 100 yen store. I bought a pair of beautiful matcha bowls for only 210 yen each! They are green, with white striping, and had caught my eye the day before.

Back at the studio, Miyuco had stopped by, and I had an impromptu Japanese lesson with her. Miyuco is one of the teachers at Yoggy. Her training primarily consists of Baptiste yoga. She teaches both "relaxation" and "energy" classes. I asked her about the very un-Japanese "co" in her name, and she said she had it changed because the 'c' is softer looking than the 'k'. She taught me several valuable Japanese phrases, including dekitara ("If you can") and douji ni ("At the same time"). She was very helpful, and I hope we do it again soon.

After my evening class, I arrived home to yet another fantastic Tim and Maya meal. They had eaten earlier, but had saved a generous serving for me. As soon as I came in the door, they began putting it together. By the time I had unpacked my backpack, there was a delicious meal awaiting me at the kitchen table. The main course was a pastry stuffed with veggies in a sauce,complemented by penne pasta, peas, some more of those unique little olive-potatoes, and a wonderful pickle salad of persimmon, wakame, and cucumber from Maya.

I absolutely LOVE Tim and Maya. Maya is reading the Oscar Wilde play, The Importance of Being Earnest. Later that evening, she was asking Tim to clarify a part of the dialogue for her. Watching the two of them converse and laugh together filled my heart with such love and joy. They are one of the most harmonious couples I have ever known, and it is a gift to be around them.

Another blessed weekend of magic and delight.

A Day In Kobe

Yesterday, I visited my friend Yoko in her hometown of Kobe. With her detailed directions in hand, and a few notes from Tim, I set off just before 10am. The trains here are of three types: local, semi-express, and limited express, with the limited being the fastest. I caught a semi-express Hankyuu train, which wound up being quite slow. This worked in my favor, as I had more study time. I managed to put to memory the rest of my script for this next week of classes, so it was time well spent.

I arrived at Myodani station about 40 minutes past our twelve noon meeting time, but Yoko was waiting patiently, and she greeted me with a smile and a big hug. We walked about 15 minutes to her parent’s house, where her mother awaited us. On the way I learned some more Osaka-ben (bochi bochi, which means “so-so”), and a little bit about her husband. He is a multi-talented jazz musician who plays four different instruments, including alto saxophone and piano.

Her parent’s house is quite nice, and her mother, Haruko, greeted me warmly. She and Yoko laid out a fantastic array of delicious food, including rice, green & red leaf lettuce, sprouts, cucumbers, celery, shiso (a Japanese herb related to the mint leaf, grown by Haruko), some tempura potato slices, nori (both Japanese and Korean, which is slightly saltier in taste and smaller in size), corn, avocado, tuna with mayo, six types of fish including maguro (blue fin tuna), ika (squid), and shake (salmon), and a wonderful miso soup containing several varieties of kinoko (mushrooms), negi (small onions), and tofu. They showed me how to build little tasty combinations using the nori and lettuce as a wrap to enfold whatever you wanted to put together. There was also a lovely ryokucha (green tea). As Yoko poured the tea, she told me that the last few drops, called the “tears”, held the most robust flavor, so it was essential to make sure they were added to each cup. We had a leisurely feast, and the conversation was delightful. After eating, Haruko showed me photos from her recent vacation she, her husband, and Yoko’s younger sister took to Switzerland. As I perused the photos, Haruko whisked up some matcha, served with some little Japanese sugar confections and Swiss chocolate. A perfect ending to our meal.

The lovely hostesses...

...and our spectacular feast!

Yoko and I then went to her and her husband’s apartment. Her space is very warm and inviting. We sat out on her balcony, high above the city, with a wonderful view of the surrounding area. As we sipped chamomile tea, we chatted about life, teaching, and yoga (which are really all the same). She has many different plants arrayed on her balcony, inspired by a favorite book of hers, Tasha’s Garden. Tasha Tudor is a children’s book author and gardening aficionado who lives on a 250-acre plot of land in Vermont. The book is full of amazing photographs of Tasha making her way around her extraordinarily verdant land, as well as close-ups of many of the wonderful flowers, trees, and other plants she has cultivated. Yoko told me she views the book before sleeping, because it brings her sweet dreams and good rest. She wanted to try to capture some of that beauty and serenity in her space by creating a modest garden of her own. I believe she has succeeded. I felt very restive and relaxed in her space.

There are a handful of people I have met over the past three years who I have had an instant heart connection with. It is something that is intrinsic, that has no bearing on any outer experience of the other person. It is a divine recognition of a familiar and kindred spirit that fills me with love and respect for that being instantaneously. Yoko is one of these people. Her name means "child who brings light and sunshine to others", and I believe it fits her perfectly.

As the twilight dissolved into a deep blue-black, I felt the elasticity of time, as if the day had both crept along and passed in the blink of an eye.

 
We parted at the station with another big hug, and a standing offer from her to return again for another visit. I am looking forward to it.

Temple, Town, & Tourists

A day off well spent exploring a bit of Kyoto, and taking many photos. With map in hand, courtesy of Tim, I set off for a nice four hour journey through three different locations.

First stop, Kiyomizu-dera, one of the more popular temples in Kyoto. 

Entrance Gate

Bell

Pagoda

Kiyomizu-dera

This gentleman is the gatekeeper of the "Womb of Zuiga-Bosatsu", which is the basement of Zuiga Hall. For a donation of 100 yen, you get to enter the Womb. First, you descend the stairs and pass through a doorway into pitch darkness; the belief is that in the complete darkness there is no space for your attachment. Using a thick string of Buddhist beads carved into a waist-high bannister to your left as a guide, you then walk the basement path. The path turns a few times, until finally you stand before a very large and squat stone, lit by a soft yellow-orange light. Carved upon its surface is the Sanskrit character hara, "which is known as a motherly Buddha" who will supposedly grant any wishes you have if they are sincere. At this point, you then make a wish using prayer, then walk around the stone to exit out and up from the Womb. The literature adds that "...you will purify yourself and feel the rebirth with the virtue of Zuiga Bosatsu". It was definitely a meditative experience. 

 

Prayers...

...of mice and men.

There was a rather plain building just before this one. Inside was an exhibition from a local photographer, Kai Fusayoshi. I chatted with him briefly, and bought a postcard of one of his images. He owns a cafe and a bar in Kyoto, and gave me a map to both.

Dragon chouzuya

Leaves beginning to turn.

Beautifully carved stones...

...and stone figures.

A Buddhist ceremony was taking place in this building. The chanting, drumming, and bells were lovely.

Cemetary city

simple elegance

Note the tree stump among the towering markers.

After that, a nice little stroll to Sannenzaka, a part of Kyoto that is an architectural preservation area. Many of the buildings still retain their original facade design.

Remember the photographer I mentioned above? This prop was used in one of his photographs. Interesting coincidence.

Entering Sennenzaka

There were many women wearing kimonos, but this was the only fully made up geisha I saw walking about. The costumes are very beautiful.

 

Jinja?

simple but elegant

There are a lot of great shops, especially for specialty foods, and many of them give out free samples.

These berries covered the entire wall of one small shop.

The last stop of this little hike was Yasaka-jinja. 

Un Shishi

Entrance Gate

lanterns abound

Torii

The End Path