Each time I leave Japan, I go to the Ueno park.
There’s almost no one there in the evening, especially in winter. So I just strolling around the pond or watching cats doing their business near the Ueno shrine. It’s cold there in such a late hour, though I think it’s good to feel cold sometimes. As it’s good to become alone from time to time.
When you’re with other people, it’s easy to lose the weight of the words you say, the importance of your deeds. You just talk about the ‘weather’ from day to day, and you’re fine with it.
But then you become alone and nothing can disturb you, you suddenly realise that lots of things everyone does (and you, in particular) is a waste. A very huge waste, you feel you can’t bear its weight anymore. Then you throw away all that waste, let your thoughts, both good and bad, go somewhere else. And beneath the garbage you see the pure silver shining brigthly. You smile, realising how the life is simple. You found yourself, again.
Now you say a word, and this word is not like what you say every day. Now the Word has a Meaning. You don’t say anything meaningless, or anything you don’t want to say, because you see no reason for saying that. You keep the silence.
Some people are afraid to become alone: that’s you, that’s the ‘dangerous’ world, and there’s nobody here to protect you from it. But it’s just not true. There’s no thing like ‘you’, and no thing like ‘world’. It is completely the same, and you feel no need in giving it a name because that’s not important.
The next day you forget all this, and you’re fine talking about the ‘weather’. What an irony!