Longing

Today, I wish I were in Kyoto.  The day here is gray and cold, and a solid sort of rain has been dripping off my roof all day.  On FaceBook today, Ito En, the company who bottles and imports the green tea I love so much, posted a small blurb about the annual new year tea ceremony held at one of the great temples in Kyoto, and as I stared out my winter window at the drizzle here, I wanted to be there so much it was a pain in my heart. 

A friend of mine lived a year in Kyoto, went to school there.  He took a map of the city, and during that time, he made it his goal to visit every temple and shrine and cross them off his map as he went.  I can think of far worse ways to spend a year.  I would be happy just sitting in a tea shop on the Philosopher's Path and then strolling up to Kiyomizudera every day in a leisurely and habitual meandering. 

I miss Japan.  I miss the gray-tiled roofs.  I miss the bicycles and the smell of diesel.  I miss the t-shirts with their dubious English slogans.  I miss the sound of the crossing signal that was two blocks away from my little apartment.  I miss mikan and proper sencha and donburi bowls and pottery everywhere and the joy of a people who incorporate the practical and the beautiful into the useful everyday.

Part of me also knows that some of what I am longing for is just otherness.  That "not-here-ness" that other cultures, other parts of the world have always makes my soul happy.  I love seeing the grand diversities and the things we all hold common at the heart of this little sphere we call home.  In truth, I know there are ways other than going back to Japan to sate this need.  I could probably satisfy part of my desire if I could just get out of this place for awhile. 

And yet, as I look around my house at all the things I brought home with me, all the precious bits and pieces of that life, I want to stretch my wings and fly away to those impossibly ancient streets with nothing but a heavy coat, an empty notebook and my red pencil, a copy of Basho, and a pocket full of yen.  I'm sure somewhere, there's a seat waiting for me by a sunny window or looking out at a cloudless, starry sky.