Airports are strange places at the best of times but I have become used to their foibles. Limbo and transit suits me, acting as a sedative and soul transfusion. Freeing my mind to contemplate fresh realities and new stories. Life needs the grit of chance to aid digestion and flush out the dead cells. Without it the waveform would be little more than a ripple, and stagnation has always been my greatest fear.
I find myself sitting next to a young Japanese woman on the
flight. She is typically reserved and polite, but she has a bright smile and
eager warmth which personifies her country. I think of Naga just a few hours
away and long to be wrapped around him. My reverie is broken by the offer of a drink,
and I choose bourbon and coke, my long haul tipple of choice. Doreen fills my
thoughts, my face creases and tears well from my eyes. Luckily the cabin is
dark and no one notices; my new Japanese companion is already asleep behind the
obligatory mask. My mind is alive with the details of mum’s last few moments and
sleep evades me as the colours, sounds, beauty and horror of that black hole circle
my thoughts. The time of her passing comes and I record some details in my
notebook.
640 MPH32,999 feet
-56 C
4,285 miles from Tokyo
The transfer to my hotel is efficient and after 19 hours
of travel I fall asleep within minutes of resting my head on plump pillows. It
feels liberating and freeing to be in Tokyo again and Joni enters my mind as I
relax into dreamland.
I deal in dreamers
And telephone screamers
Lately I wonder what I do it for
If l had my way
I'd just walk through those doors
And wander
Down the Champs Elysees
Going cafe to cabaret
Thinking how I'll feel when I find
That very good friend of mine
And telephone screamers
Lately I wonder what I do it for
If l had my way
I'd just walk through those doors
And wander
Down the Champs Elysees
Going cafe to cabaret
Thinking how I'll feel when I find
That very good friend of mine
Naga arrives around 10PM and we are soon coiled around
each other. I have sex often, but the connection between us is unusual and the
feelings intense. There is chemistry taking place and the elements are brewing a
love affair. We lay together, fitting like jigsaw pieces amongst the crumpled
white sheets. Pheromones dance as talk turns to families and a gentle drift
into a spooning blissful sleep.
Tokyo is alive with blossom and petals drift across the
streets, dancing in the light as they fall to the ground. There is tranquillity
here amongst the buzzing efficiency and I feel at peace for the first time in
months. It feels like home and incredibly familiar, as if I’d lived another
life here. I am drawn to the temples and bathe in the lakes of spirituality
they bring forth in me. I feel Doreen strongly in these places and talk to her
often. At the Hanazona Shrine in Shinjuku I am transfixed by the stream of locals
visiting the temple during their lunch breaks. One after another they take a
turn, sometimes forming an orderly queue
Throw some coins
into the shrine
Hold the cord and shake
the bells, then bow low twiceStand upright and clap twice with hands held as if in prayer
Hold the second clap with your hands pressed together
Then bow again and say your prayer
Step back, clap once and bow
Walk away
I ask a man what the ritual means and he simply says ‘hope’ before bowing and rushing back to his work. I follow the ritual exactly and say my prayer for Doreen and walk away. I sense her presence so strongly it is almost physical and I know she is with me. It makes no sense at all but the rational side of my brain is shut down by the comfort which envelops me in this place. I sense her approval and know she is happy that I have found her here.
Please wait for me
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