In the heart of Tokyo lies a quiet space uninterrupted by the hustle of Harajuku and the fast paced life that Tokyoites step too. A space where old man pause, take off their hats, and bow in reverence to the once great Emperor Meiji.
Large wooden Tori (Gates) separate the profane from the scared space of Meiji Jingu Shrine. I have been several times, and I often bring guests to this space to experience some of the traditional Japanese culture.
My friend and I reasoned on a variety of topics as we wandered the garden. Pausing here and there to reflect on the beauty of the garden. Manicured spaces that would lead the eye around from bush to tree, to the pond in the middle of the garden.
Slices of reflections accumulations of all that came before and all that is to come. The water shone back into myself. The clear bubbling spring was a moment in which I could allow that water that sprung from the deep earth to enter into my consciousness. Standing on a few perfectly placed flat stones peering over and into the spring, I was one with my surroundings.
Reflecting, reflected, reflections, moments in a progression of our lives.