On my last day in Japan, I ate a strudel based breakfast fit for a champion at the local konbini1. Next, I traveled by bullet train to Shinagawa and then made my way to the Narita Airport via JR train.
Riding the trains one last time, I began to think back on my trip. I compared my experience to the one I had 33 years ago and appreciated how special this place is to me. The temples and sacred sites, manmade and trinket-laden as they often were, still moved me in a deeply spiritual way. Something about the intention behind these places — the effort to create somewhere spiritual — was enough to trigger those feelings, as long as I gave myself the time and space to look for them.
I continued onto the airport and looked at souvenirs. I found myself able to clear my mind and enter a more peaceful state even while looking at new clothes or browsing at the Lego store. I loved the feeling I got as a lovely Japanese woman took care to hand me my receipt, looking me in the eyes and holding it carefully with two hands before placing it in mine. It’s a society built around taking care of one another and I don’t want to blow it out of proportion, but they’ve definitely got something worth emulating.
Eventually, it came time to clear security. I filled up my water bottle so I’d have enough water for the trip — I’ve always found the little cups of water the flight attendant provides insufficient and I didn’t plan on going thirsty this time. Security itself was so much less invasive than on trips to the States — another welcome relief and a reminder that international travel outside North America has its own advantages.
When I finally boarded, I found myself seated next to a nice couple from Calgary. I put my backpack in the overhead compartment. Before we took off, the fellow needed to get into his bag and suddenly I saw a waterfall pouring out of the overhead compartment.
A lot of water came pouring out. It was a literal waterfall on a plane.
I instantly knew what was happening. Sure enough, upon inspection of my bag, I confirmed that my water bottle had not been sealed properly and opened all over the bin and down on the floor. The two inches of water in my backpack began seeping out, creating an additional pool of water beneath my feet. The flight attendants brought some very tiny napkins which were basically useless, but I suppose — in the end — it’s not worth crying over spilt… water.
My chair wouldn’t recline and the space in front of my feet was soaked, and the flight home was long and painful. Getting into a meditative state isn’t as easy when your feet are wet and you’re uncomfortable, but it still helps.
I can’t wait to go back.
- Lawsons convenience store[↩]