the chaos looks acceptable
I had a great day yesterday. It all started when I woke up around noontime. The sun was shining and the wind the was light and breezy. I live in a small room in Setagaya-ku, Tokyo. It’s a largely residential neighborhood, with lot’s of greenery and famous for it’s many Buddhist temples. I went downstairs and took a long shower, looking out at passing people through the barred bathroom window. I went upstairs and dressed in jeans and my minty T-shirt, and went out to meet my friend for lunch. I walked to the station through sunshine, taking a scenic path past a cemetery and through a tulip-filled park. I donned my earbuds and listened to Lemon Jelly all the way to Chitose station.
I caught a local train, which usually means I could get a seat. The local trains in Tokyo are not as crowded as the expresses, especially on a lazy Thursday afternoon. But today I only stood in the corner by the door. I could comfortably look out the door’s window. The train was filled with the usual denizens of that time of day. There were grandmas and mom’s with little kids. Japanese kids are mysterious creatures. They are unusually quiet, and I rarely hear babies crying in Japan. They have dark deep eyes and round bulbous cheeks. Sometimes they make me laugh and other times I fear them.
As the train coasted through Karasuyama on it’s way to Shinjuku I stared out the window while the music hummed into my ears. With the right track and a certain kind of day to match the mood, simply watching things go by while riding the train can be really something. But you have to pay attention. I live that little part of my life in my own tiny dream. Everything is just right, and the whole universe feels in order. Or rather, the chaos looks acceptable and for that moment I join in it without resistance.
I took the Keio New Line through Shinjuku to Ichigaya, and switched trains. I was meeting my friend in Korakuen. In Ichigaya, I took the stairs out of the underground into the most splendid sunny station. Just across the tracks there is a pond (I think it’s the remnant of a river) with a nice fish farm and wharf for hobbyists. The opposite bank is lined with cherry trees. Not a month ago they were in full bloom. Pink petals carpeted the ground like cherry snow. But now the trees were lush green. My train arrived promptly and I took it two stations over to Suidobashi. Along the way I spotted fisherman covertly casting their lines on the banks of the pond, outside the protected area of the wharf. To my knowledge this is illegal. It was a pleasure to see them. They felt the need to go outside the boundaries normality, even if just a little bit. I haven’t been fishing in years…
I’ll finish this soon.
