Practicing the art of publishing and relentless Optimism against the INEVITABLE flow of time and my own self consciousness by not taking it too seriously.

New York.

Dear Bourdain 5: Running

Dear Bourdain 5: Running

Dear Bourdain,

Like you said, move as Far and Wide as you can.

I’m 1 week into being abroad. Almost enough to fall into a rut. To see the specter peek from its shadowy cowl under the bright lights of Susukino and between every prayer clap at the Shinto shrines.

I had spent the entire week in the Stay Sapporo [Not to be confused with its sister hostel a few blocks away The Stay Sapporo Nagomi]. The staff was welcoming and friendly. We were in a closed season, which is the week or so before Golden Week, the large tourist pull in the beginning of May/end of April.

Avoid Golden Week, make the trip 1-2 weeks after May 1st to avoid the price hikes, crowded tourist lines, and still have all of the Japanese attractions open for season.

I made fast friends with a odd collection of travelers in the passing. Canadians, Australian ex-pats [there were several], Malay, Moroccan, Tunisian, Taiwanese, and of course, Japanese.

The highlights included biking adventures of Sapporo’s parks and riverways, the outstanding blue sky beneath the Ceremonial Tower in Napporo’s Forest park, two separate sushi meals that could only be described as exquisite, and truly communing with the gods of Japan, in every prayer and with every animal, particularly the Hokkaido Shrines. [Wait. Is this actually Eat, Pray, Love?]

I could only be so blessed.

And yet. The last two days of my journal includes:

[Calm and anxious that everything I do is just confined to this planet. But at least I’m in Japan]    
[I feel stuck in Sapporo. Why is that?]

It was bad.

But at least I’m in Japan!

Haha. Ha…. No. It was just the shadow of a doubt. I caught it in my daily rituals. But it reminded me two important things.

One, running doesn’t solve the problems.

And two, moving around does alleviate the symptoms.

See, because each time the specter crept up, I would simply get out.

By walking around, I was able to combat the depression that plagued me. Because in large part, I am in a different country. With time and space to do whatever, where ever.

Abroad, I found different faces to the depression and anxiety. I want to, “do the best thing” with my time. I want to “maximize” my efficiency. I’m afraid of being disappointed.

Whatever. I could make a billion excuses before I got my ass out of my bed and into the day.

But even further, I could find myself “running through the motions.” Even in Japan!

Just motions.

Yet, and maybe because I’m here, maybe because I’m abroad. The motions help. They start the pedals of the circle that lead me to, not solving anything, but at least still going somewhere. Even if life is a hamster wheel, the truth is we just love running.

It’s easier when I’m abroad because every minute, something new and interesting is happening. But the love is in the little things. In the individual moments like seeing the flash of a fox on Hokkaido University campus, or praying at yet another shrine, but this time with a bell to ring and a GoPro to film, or accepting that every carasu is just laughing at me, because shhhh the birds don’t know that this is all temporary, but ravens are cursed with knowledge.

Quick story before concluding:

I ended up, yesterday, biking nearly 15 miles chasing the magic I thought I had lost.

Spoiler: I didn’t find it.

I had run [literally. It was my morning jog] into a group of pro-wrestlers doing a competition/show in Hotel Enima in Shin-Sapporo. I had an excellent bike ride there, completely randomly finding the main biking path that cut through the city; a sort of super highway of runners, bikers, and families with children.

The event was a crushing 40 US dollars. My negotiating for a 12-and-under price failed. Upon which I tiredly/doggedly made my way to the Traditional Hokkaido village, another 5kms away. It was a bit of a bust, as it was small and fairly sterile outdoor museum, as well as costing 10$.

I wander into an open park. Under the bright blue sky and all its clouds, next to a large Centennial Tower statue that pierced the sky, I smoked a cigarette, feeling the literally earth spinning underneath me. 15 miles from my hostel. Hours spent finding no new or fun experiences; not even a pretty girl to boot. Still in Japan though…

Truly. Truly truly. We are nothing. Ants on fungi logs. Stardust, somehow aware that we are stardust.

You make your own experiences on this planet. Every single moment is entirely in your control, from this exact present, onwards to however many goddamn years you have left.

It is an exhausting, exhilarating, tremendous, and ultimately, fruitless privilege. And I have not the foggiest idea if my path is correct.

But hey!

At least I’m in Japan.

At least I can yet draw breath.

That my legs are strong enough to carry my life on my back.

My heart is strong enough to stay open

Even to myself.

And especially you.

Much love,

Winston

H4

H3: Japanese Grocery Stores