I’m in Tokyo, posting way too late for a typical Sunday because it’s Monday here, and coming to Japan from the States, you literally lose a whole day.
I get to spend this next week with my son, and my brother and sister-in-law (who are living in Kobe this year). My brother’s reminders about cherry blossom season—that we’d probably hit it, would be lucky if we did—oriented me to go find them first thing this morning, Day 1 of our trip. I went to college in DC (GWU), so I know well the magic of cherry blossoms. The full force of their presence commands your attention, cluster-blooming as they do, like the finale of a fireworks show.
For those of us who engage in magic-hunting, or joy-seeking (as my partner likes to prompt me to do), it doesn’t get much better than cherry blossoms. They last just 10-14 days. Their brief but vibrant existence—effervescent eruptions at all angles from the branches that hold them, glory in full bloom, and gentle withering at the end—make them symbols of life and death, of impermanence, and remind us that life is fleeting.
James is erupting with adolescent effervescence; I am in full bloom. Today, I’m a witness. I simply want to capture us as we are, right now.
Love your spirit and your every word. Thank you for sharing!
I see evidence of catching joy. Shows on your faces! ❤️ So wonderful‼️
I am with you in spirit!