Three Days

Monday
Eri returned home around 7pm. I had dinner waiting, in celebration of us. We have only been together for a little over a month, but so much has happened to us. Tonight, it is a night of honoring our love. As I cooked, I listened to Maxwell’s Urban Hang Suite and his MTV Unplugged to infuse my cooking and the apartment with even more of a celebratory vibration. I made a kabocha and porcini miso, salmon, rice, and combined two of my favorite veggie dishes together: carrots and ginger with broccoli, garlic and chestnuts. They turned out to perfectly compliment one another, and both Eri and I were delighted with the tastes. She had bought flowers on her way home, and then dug into her boxes to bring out a couple beautiful candleholders. A lovely finishing touch for the eye. As we sat down to eat, I put on Maxwell’s Embrya. All of our senses were honored! We had a simple green tea to accompany our meal. For dessert, Eri had bought us each a sesame dumpling filled with red bean paste.


The chef.


A touch of shri.


Side one of our apartment...


...and side two. Chiisai apaato, ne. (It sure is a small apartment.)

Eri surprised me after the meal with an early Christmas gift from her parents Jun and Kumi; a lovely alpaca scarf from Peru, of multiple shades of brown with a river of white running through it. I have learned from Eri that Japanese names are not always written in kanji (the pictographs adopted from the Chinese language). Sometimes they are purposefully written in hiragana, which are the phonetic symbols. A perfect example is her parents names. Her father’s name is written as 淳 (kanji), while her mother’s name is written as くみ (hiragana). Though I haven’t met her parents yet, from what I have learned of then so far, they seem to have inspired the thoughtfulness and caring that is so prevalent in their daughter. I am looking forward to meeting them this New Years.

Tuesday
The 25th. Payday! We slept late, and had a relaxing brunch. Eri had a meeting with her new boss at 4pm to discuss hours and salary. I had a rendezvous with Falafel Garden for more emailing. First, a stop at the local convenience store to get some much-needed cash. I was down to my last 40 yen (40¢!). Eri went with me to help me negotiate the ATM. I inserted my snappy new bank card into the machine, punched in a request for my balance, and waited excitedly for the result. Zero yen. Not exactly what I was expecting.
It was already 3pm, so the money should have been in there. *Sigh*. I am starting to place my expectations of Yoggy lower and lower. Luckily, Eri could lend me a little bit of yen to hold me over until (hopefully) I receive my money tomorrow.
I went to Falafel Garden, and contacted Sawako in NY to let her know of this latest snafu, and to send Eri’s parents a thank you email. I had a delightful surprise in the form of a conversation with my friend Noelle. She had moved from SF to Seattle a while ago, and we keep emailing sporadically, but haven’t had a proper conversation in a long time. She hit me up on my gmail chat, and we had a lovely e-conversation. I’m looking forward to her and her guy visiting sometime early next year.
After FG, I met Eri at Meidi-Ya, which is a market specializing in foreign pre-packaged foods, as well as local seafood and vegetables. We picked up a few things, then stopped by one of the stands in Nishiki, the open market that fills one long corridor of downtown Kyoto. Eri picked out pre-packaged dinners of a mix of sweet potatoes, carrots, porcini, tofu, chikuwa (whitefish compressed in a tube-like shape), negi, and a large packet of a sweet sauce, all packed in an aluminum foil dish to heat it up in. Then, we headed to what is now my favorite boulangerie, Au Grenier D’or. By then it was around 6pm, so most of what they had put out was gone. However, there were still some lovely treats left. Eri bought two slices of a pastachio infused cake, with a whipped filling of the tasty nuts, called sicille.
At the Kyoto studio, there was a folder from Tim awaiting me. In it were a couple pieces of mail and another letter from him. Eri had her bike with her, so after class we met up at the Fresco to get a few things. I arrived first, and decided to read Tim’s letter as I waited for her to arrive. What a wonderful gift! Tim expressed his gratitude for my letter to him, and not only was I forgiven for my mistakes, but he had some nice compliments to offer me as well. To quote his letter, we are now moving back into “the sunny uplands of friendship once again.” Hotto shita! (I am so relieved!) I am looking forward to seeing him again soon, and taking him and Maya out to dinner when they are available. I shared the news with Eri, and she was also greatly relieved. We had a wonderful meal together at home, and I enjoyed it even more because of the feeling of expansion and joy in my heart.

Wednesday
I checked the ATM before traveling to Shinsaibashi, but still no money in my account. There was, however, an email from Sawako. Apparently Yoggy has a different spelling for my last name in katakana (the other phonetic symbols used specifically for words adopted from other languages) than the bank. Egads. I then checked what the bank had, and they had a different spelling than I had given them. I have yet to experience first hand the efficient Japanese business model that supposedly is the backbone of this culture. In fact, it has been quite the opposite experience so far.
Once I arrived home from my Osaka class, Eri kindly contacted the LOHAS home office, and found out the check had been re-re-deposited, and this time it had gone through. Even though the accountant reassured Eri the money was in my account, I called the bank to check before I went to the ATM. Finally, my own money! What a delight it was to go to the ATM, and be able to withdraw what I needed. I paid Eri back, and made a transfer of funds to Tim too. Then I went to buy food for Eri and I for the first time in weeks with my own money. Food shopping never felt so empowering!

When Worlds Collide

Eri left for Yokohama Friday, so she could pack up what she wants to send to our new home. I left that day for Uehonmachi via a Limited Express train, which usually takes about 45 minutes to reach Umeda. This morning, however, it kept stopping on bridges for anywhere from 5-7 minutes. It was over an hour before we pulled into Umeda, and during that time I realized I had forgotten the other two gifts I needed to drop off at Yoggy Osaka. When I finally arrived at the Uehonmachi studio, I found I had forgotten my shorts. An interesting start to the day. However, later that afternoon, I received a call from Eri with fantastic news. Yamaguchi-san from Choei had called her to say I would be receiving all of the money I had paid them, every last yen, by the end of the month. Yatta! (Yippee!)

I spent most of my afternoon at Shinsaibashi on the internet, sending emails to friends and trying to finalize my travel plans. After all was said and done I am still a long way off.

Saturday I had a meeting with Tomoko at 2:30pm. Miho came to translate. It was an interesting conversation. Apparently, Yoggy is worried about a few things. One is that I have asked students to sometimes translate for me during class to clarify specific alignment points, or extrapolate on the tantric philosophy. The staff, never having this occur in the class before, are supposedly anxious about what could possibly happen because of this. Their concern is that the students are paying customers, and this is an abuse of their payment. I asked if any students had complained. No. I asked if any of the people who had translated for me had complained. No. Another issue is that my class numbers have dropped since my initial first two weeks*. I made the point that of course the first two weeks many would try my classes, but that not all would be interested. They feel that my use of people as translators may have had an affect on this, because it is the only variable recently introduced. 

So, I have agreed not to ask anyone to interpret for me in class anymore. I feel that here at Yoggy it is all about me making concessions. There is no reciprocity. I am not asking to be given anything. All I would like to see is that some effort is made in trying to understand me for who I am. I was brought into Yoggy because of what I, as a unique individual, can bring to the students. Tomoko tells me though, that LOHAS wants everyone here to be the same in classes. I am the only male teacher for these three studios, and the only foreigner. I am going to be different. This is not better or worse, it just is. I have no problem with trying to make concessions that seem fairly reasonable, but if no one wants to step towards me, I am not being respected as a fellow being, let alone as a teacher who has come to Japan to offer all that I have to the students here.

There are so many things I could go on about, but I came to a decision today to actively walk the middle path between wanting to completely integrate into this culture and completely ignoring its emotional infrastructure. When I initially came here, I really wanted to do the former, but I now see that that is an impossibility. I am not, nor will I ever be Japanese. This is not better or worse, it just is. I need to be seen for who I am. I will try to honor some of the parameters set here, but I will not become a cookie-cutter teacher just to keep everyone happy. I would really like to come to an amicable middle ground with the Yoggy staff, and hope this can happen. 

As I said to Miho, if two different cultures in a yoga studio can’t meet each other half way, then what hope is there for the world to do this as a whole?

*I decided to check this out for myself, since I keep a running tab of class attendance for my own information. Looking at the numbers, there has not been a steady decrease. There have been classes that have dipped from the previous one, classes that have risen in attendance, and classes that stayed exactly the same. There were also two weekends in a row that my classes at Shinsaibashi were consigned to the smaller studio, which meant an automatic drop in attendance, because I can only fit 10-11 people. I will bring this up at the meeting I am hoping to have soon with the entire Yoggy staff.

A Hazy Shade Of Winter

Wednesday was the first truly freezing day in Kyoto. It reminded me of winter in Pennsylvania; crisp air, strong gusts of wind, and low temperatures. Today, Eri helped me run a bunch of crucial errands. We first went to the Sakyo-ku ward office to get my gaikokujin tourokushou (foreigner registration certification). This was needed for our next stop, Shinsei Bank, to open an account. I need to send the bank info to LOHAS by the 21st so I actually get a paycheck deposited on the 25th. I then wrote up two of my thank you’s for the four women who assisted me in finding an apartment, and delivered the notes and small gifts to Yoggy in Kyoto. After that, it was a trip to Tim’s to drop off an apology letter. Then I met Eri after her belly dance lesson at Flying Karasuma. Home for dinner and a much deserved rest.

Thursday was another very cold day, and more errands, but we didn’t get out of the apartment until around 2pm. Thursdays are one of two days in which I can sleep in, so I took full advantage of it. After a lovely breakfast, we headed to Kyoto station to purchase shinkansen (bullet train) tickets for our journey to Eri’s parent’s cabin this coming New Year’s. After that it was off to Falafel Garden for some emails. I am still finalizing my flight plans for my return to California this January, and because we haven’t any internet at our place, it is a slow process. After completing that work, it was off to meet Eri’s friend Keiko at a cultural festival being held at one of Kyoto’s prestigious universities. It was outdoors, and very cold. After sampling some food there, we decided to head indoors at an izakaya. Izakayas are places that serve small dishes, which allows one to sample a few things. We began with hot sake, then had kaki (oyster) soup, which had two varieties of mushrooms and mizuna (a yummy salad green) in it. Next came umaki, which is a dashimaki (Japanese-style omelette in a roll) filled with unagi (eel). The eel was a fantastic addition to one of my favorite Japanese dishes. After, as Eri and I were waiting for the bus, I still felt hungry, and Eri produced our half-eaten bag of purple sweet potato fries from her bag. Perfect emergency snack! I find I have been eating more here. I think a lot of what I eat gets burned up in my attempts to comprehend and speak Japanese.

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.