2025 Japan: Food

 One of the things I tend to take regular pictures of in Japan is the meals.  Most of them are at the center we train at and are served buffet style.

Curry and Rice:  The curry is a bit spicy but manageable for me.

You will notice the soup and rice at almost every meal.

My guess is this is a breakfast.  We regularly had salad for breakfast, which is quite different for me.

Beer with the meal, so probably dinner.

As with last year we went to a traditional soba restaurant in Tokyo.

Udon, rice, and gyoza (and beer, of course).

Breakfast in our hotel.  They were all similar to this.  Japan has excellent baked goods.

During one of our days of training, we grabbed lunch from a mini-market.  They are quite upscale, especially compared to the average American one.

We took a morning trip to Asakusa and had lunch at a stand up sushi bar that had about 10 places to stand.

Udon:

Udon with tofu.

And dessert!  Coffee ice cream.

Breakfast the day we left - because you should always try something familiar when far away.

2025 Japan: Fuji And Vending Machine Outputs

Having finished our trip to Turkey,  I have a little catching up on other travel to do.

So, meanwhile over in Japan....

As you may recall, I have the opportunity once a year to train in Japan in Iaijutsu, the Japanese sword art that I have studied and practiced since 2009. I have gone from 2018-2020, then (sigh) The Plague, and restarted again in 2024.   Our training sessions are such that we perhaps have half a day to "sight see" (which is often taken up by going to Asakusa in Tokyo to the sword shop as well as shopping for supplies like tabi, setta, obi - things that we can get in the U.S. but are less expensive there).

Still, I try to chronicle what I can.

This is flying into Haneda airport, the first time we have done so (for those that may not know, Haneda is the older of the two airports that serve Tokyo.  The newer one, Narita, is approximately 1.5 hours by train from the center of Tokyo; Haneda is located on the edge of Tokyo Bay, about 20 minutes by train from the hotel we use when we stay in Tokyo.  

Fuji-san was very co-operative for photos; not so much the plane window.

One of the pleasures of Japan (at least for me) are the outputs of their delightful vending machines.  Items cost between 150 and 250 Yen (about 1-2 USD when we went).  It is the only way to get coffee before our early morning training, but they also have a selection of other things served hot and cold from the same machine including tea, milk tea, fruit juice, sports drinks, and other wonders.

Including, as I found when hitting the wrong buttons, corn soup.  Served hot, of course.  Not what I was expecting at all.

Coffee can come cold or hot, with milk or without milk.  Interestingly, most of it is sweetened.

A vending machine.  Red indicates hot drinks, blue indicates cold drinks.  Some play happy music when you make your purchase.

A different brand of coffee.  "Platinum", in case you were wondering, is probably not what platinum tastes like in reality - no metal taste evident.

This was a hot lemon drink.  Quite delightful.

An ice cream vending machine outside.  Even though it was cold, I had to try one.

"Sai-da" is the katakana.  "Soda"?   

It turned out to be an flavored ice sort of squeeze pop.  Kind of like cotton candy flavour.  I was disappointed; I really should have just gone with the ice cream.

This is a map in our hotel in Shinagawa, Tokyo.

That is our hotel! (Based on the size, you can place it on the map above.)

And this is the Nippon Budokan, where we performed our demonstration.

No pictures of vending machine drink outputs would be complete without a mug of Japanese Beer (Kirin, in this case).

Deny Yourself, Take Up Your Cross, And Follow Me

I received a great deal to think about during my Iaijutsu training last month in Japan - not just on my technique, but about Life.

Yes, about Life in general as well but specifically about my life.  No, I cannot talk about a lot of it (what happens in the dojo stays in the dojo).

The short version is that I tend to be far more focused on myself and my advancement (whatever that actually means) instead of adapting myself to, preserving, and furthering the art.

This in turn sent me down a whole series of considerations and pathways, mostly dealing with myself and my focus on me, the outcome of which was I listed a set of things I needed to change in my thinking:

1)  "I am the author of my life" versus "God is the author of my life."

2)  "I am the saviour of my life (via my own efforts)" versus "Christ is the saviour of my life".

3)  "I am the hero in the life of others" versus "I am a servant in the life of others".

If it is not apparent, I was confronted in a very meaningful way at that time.

Fast forward to two weeks ago, when I found myself in a different church than I had been attending for reasons I was not sure of, other than I needed to go there.  Upon entering the space, I wanted - really needed - to hear something from God.  It seemed a little presumptuous of me to say "God, reveal Yourself" as He is already there.  Instead, I fell back on a phrase that was used by the Desert Fathers of the 4th-6th centuries A.D. when they visited one a teacher or someone they considered holy:  "Give me a word".

Just like that, the words came back "Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me".

It is stunning enough when you finding something in God's word that speaks to you, personally, in that moment; it is even more so when you "hear" (I can use no other word, although there was no sound) something that is a definitive answer to a question that was asked.

As I drove home that day, I realized that set of words sounded familiar, and not just because I knew the passage where they came from.  Sure enough, there embedded in my notes from training and my deep reflections where the above statements had been written down, was the phrase "Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me".

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The verse is one that appears in the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke).  I quote the verse from Luke here, as it has the most clarity to me:

"Then He (Jesus) said to them all, 'If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow Me.  For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.  For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and is himself destroyed or lost?'" - Luke 9:  23-25, NKJV  (also in Matthew 16:28-17:9 and Mark 8:34-28)

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And so, I find myself wrestling with the concept of denying myself.

What does that fully mean?  I am struggling with this.  There are certainly very base level practices, practiced by ascetics and Christians throughout the ages:  levels of fasting and other physical practices meant to tame the body - and prayer, always prayer.  Giving in the form of charity, of course: C.S. Lewis noted that if our charities did not somehow pinch not just our luxuries but our basics, we likely are not charitable enough. And a litany of everyday practices meant to get our eyes off ourselves:  humbling of ourselves in the service of others, for example (humility was a matter of consideration this year for more than one reason, apparently).

Still, I struggle. Simple denial of something like food for fasting seems painfully basic and off the mark, for example - although I am pretty sure there is also a simple part of me that does not want to do even that.  But those sorts of physical restrictions, though likely beneficial, do not seem to be the core of what was asked of me.

Do I think something like what has become a fast of sorts from social media and indeed any media is part of it?  I do, although this seems of secondary or even tertiary import except that it pushes me towards having more time and silence in my life.

And so, I continue to fumble my way forward in the dark.

But this one thing I know:  Not once, but twice this year the very specific command "Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me" has come to the direct forefront of my conscious thought.  Surely this is for a reason.

The question is, how well am I doing that very thing.

A Year of Humility (XIII): The Robe Of Humility

 

Not much to add to this other than to ask the question:  If Christ could humble himself by becoming one of us, what right or excuse to I have to not humble myself?

Filler

 So, I had the grand, glorious post all planned for today.  Sadly events got away from me during the latter course of the week.

Spring has sort of sprung here in New Home 3.0. I am reliably informed by my coworkers that there is a version of "fake Spring", which lasts for a couple of days or a week and the plunge back into End of Winter 2.0.

But the trees are blooming and flowers are popping out all over, so all of the growing things think it is Spring, even if the weather itself is trying to lie to the humans.

Last Wednesday represents the last of the "pre-programmed" posts I had put in place.  It was a helpful effort; it is a little odd to get back into the habit of daily writing as such.  Good, but odd.  

My sister and brother-in-law The Outdoorsman are in town this weekend for a visit.  As it turns out, it was almost at the end of our stay in New Home 2.0 that they were able to come out.  We are a great deal closer; hopefully this will be the first of many visits.

Hard to believe that all of this beauty also portends the end of the first quarter of the year.  Three months have slipped past - I have no idea where they went.

Essentialism (XII): Essence Of The Essentialist, Explore: Escape

"Without great solitude no serious work is possible." - Pablo Picasso

As I read through books written by authors Cal Newport and Matthew Crawford, I am confronted by the suggestion by both that one of the most fleeting of things in modern society is the ability to pay attention, which is generally created by 1) Space; 2) Silence, and 3) A lack of the constant chatter that is the very fabric of our electronic and media modern world.

It is this concept that McKeown picks up on in the Exploring portion of Essentialism, specifically "Escape".  The subtitle of this section is "The Perks of Being Unavailable".

He starts this chapter with the example of a founder/CEO of marketing company, Conversations, which once a month has a meeting where all employees come together - media free.  No phones, no e-mail, no agenda.  They simply think and talk.  At the time of writing, it occurred regularly on the first Monday of every month and was known by their clients as "Do-Not-Call-Monday".

There are two purposes to this meeting.  The first is to give employees the ability to figure and review what is truly essential.  The founder also uses it as a litmus test for time spent by employees on the non-essential: "If someone can't make the meeting because too much is going on, that tells me we are either doing something inefficiently or we need to hire more people."

We need space, posits McKeown, in order to discern the vital few from the trivial many.  In a world filled with constant inputs clamoring for our attention, that space needs to be consciously designated and designed.  Seldom will it just "happen".

What does the Essentialist do with this space?  They explore their options.

Exploration does not take place in a vacuum of course.  We need a place to explore, something that is set up in a way to allow us to think deeply alone or in discussion with individuals and small groups as needed.  For some, this can be consciously designed spaces that are set up in a way to facilitate (or force) conversation like specially designed rooms or areas that encourage thought and small groups or spaces like "quiet rooms" where the absence of noise is emphasized.

We need space to explore and to concentrate on our exploration.  This is not so much a physical space (although it can be) as much as it is a mental space where we set aside distractions for the matter at hand. McKeown points to the example of Sir Isaac Newton, who spent almost two years in complete isolation writing what we know as the laws of gravitation and motion.  When asked how it he did it, he replied "By thinking on it continually" - "In other words, Newton created space for concentration, and this uninterrupted space allowed him to explore the essential elements of the universe."

When, asks McKeown, was the last time you took five minutes out of your day to just sit and think?  Not compose an e-mail or make a list of things needing to be done or replaying a conversation in your mind, but "...(set) aside distraction-free time in a distraction-free space to do absolutely nothing but think?"  Not only that, he suggests - but as we get busier and things move faster, the more it becomes crucial for us to build thinking time into our schedules and the spaces to focus on them.

Part of that, suggests McKeown, is simply changing our perspective from our schedule controlling us to us controlling our schedule.

Finally, says McKeown, we need space to read.

Without reading - be it books, articles, journals and attendant thinking and pondering (or some version of listening to the same, given the technological world in which we live), we not only lose out on relevant information to our particular situation and lives, we lose the ability to "broaden our perspective" and see themes of life beyond our own narrow windows.  His only recommendation is "...to select something was written before our hyperconnected era and yet seems timeless.  Such writings can challenge our assumptions about what really matters."

(Of note, McKeown says he prefers inspirational literature such as Zen, The Reason of Unknown; The Wisdom of Confucius; the Torah; the Bible; Tao, to Know and Not Be Knowing; The Meaning of the Glorious Koran:  An Explanatory Translation; As a Man Thinketh; The Essential Gandhi; Walden, or Life in the Woods; the Book of Mormon; The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius; and the Upanishads.  It is quite a list).

His final admonition:  "Whether you can invest two hours a day, two weeks a year, or even five minutes every morning, it is important to make space to escape in your busy life."

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Application:

I outed myself a bit by indicating that this is something I am already thinking about based on books that I have recently read or are reading. This idea of making "space" was a bit more focused on "making space to do things", but the principle is the same.

A lot of it for me is wrapped up in a lack of inputs, which can lead to silence, which is what I need to think.  In my case, that looks a lot like working on shutting down how often I check my phone for everything, what I follow on the InterWeb (it is rapidly dwindling), reducing social media as we have spoken on before, and learning to do activities without having background noise (usually a Tube of You video) going on in the background.  

In terms of space, it is having a place to "work", which is the extra bedroom that J the Rabbit generously shares with us.  It is also re-starting post-vacation the habits of morning walks in my local neighborhood and middle of the day walks at work.

Reading.  It should be no surprise that I am big fan of this, and there is something to reading in the morning that gets things off to a good start.  I regularly read the Bible (doing the "Bible in a year" plan).  In terms of other readings, I tend to choose things that break into short sections that are make for good organized readings in a week or two weeks.  Books that I have repeatedly read in this fashion have included The Art of War by Sun Tzu, A Book of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi, An Iron Will by Orison Swett Marden, and  The Little Platinum Book of Cha-Ching! by Jeffery Gitomer.  I have also tried longer texts, like the works of Epictetus, but having to make a break is the middle of the section make it difficult for me to pick up the next day.

I have also started making sure I find time in the evening (now usually before bed) to do the same exercise.  In this case it is reading and taking notes on the book, something I have not really done in almost 25 years.  I am finding this helps to round out my day.

I do not know I am quite to where I need to be in getting the full value out of these activities, but I am on my way.

The Collapse CLXXXV: Proposal

 24 October 20XX+1

My Dear Lucilius:

Today I was invited to a meeting.

I suppose once upon a time that statement would have been completely unremarkable; work used to be nothing but meetings, a gathering of individuals for purposes that were undoubtedly important in the moment but 99% of the time without import in the long run. Now, of course, a meeting is an entirely different thing, an exchange of time in lieu of other activities like preparing for Winter or finding food or fuel or worrying about what is to come.

The meeting was in the old post office – you will recall it; it was the hub of activities this Summer, and now (after the fire at the RV Park/bar) remains likely the most recognizable building in town, except for the Old Storefront turned church turned meeting room turned courtroom, which for obvious reasons is likely not a great location for such things. The invite had come from Young Xerxes; it was a fairly generic ask to “talk about some things”.

In the world in which we now live, there are no “things” that are without import.

When I arrived there in the mid-afternoon – our daily sunlight continues to draw itself inwards – I found around ten to fifteen men and women there: some faces I recognized, like my all to recent bailiffs and one or two souls from the expedition to McAdams who nodded acquaintance, as well as some that I hardly recognized more than “I had seen them in town” once upon a time – even years ago when all was well, it was still a small town and one tended to have some kind of nodding acquaintance with almost everyone.

It probably does not need noting, but everyone was armed. This seems to be the way, now.

A set of folding chairs had been dug out from somewhere – the courtroom, someone’s chairs for poker or pinochle? - and we eased into them with all the care that anyone does for a Chair of Unknown Provenance. One of the bailiffs spoke – not Young Xerxes, which honestly surprised me.

We will need to give him a name – Brasidas will work.

Brasidas’ speech was short and to the point. What was gathered here was not just individuals, but individuals representing households – a majority of the households, if numbers said anything at all. They were concerned among themselves, not just because of the events of the last month but because of the fact that a second Winter was coming with unknown impacts – by “impacts”, he meant bandits, he clearly stated – in the Spring. Unlike any of the other areas around them, there was no move to either enter an alliance or even protect the town as whole – still a series of individuals, rent by potentially competing interests as the recent court trial and fire indicated.

For these people represented here, he said, there was no option of picking up to go to another town or an outlying settlement. This was their home, their only home – and they had no plans to become refugees.

They were willing to make a go of it, he said, but they needed someone acceptable to all and of sufficient authority – he actually used the word gravitas, which made the Classicist in me chuckle - to put together a plan and in effect “lead” the settlement. I had marched out to fight the Locust and navigated the court case; would I be willing to do the same thing for Birch?

I sighed, and looked at the faces looking back at me. Some of them I knew, all of them were thinner than they were two years ago. There was lack of sleep and worry on all of them, a touch of anger for all that had apparently not been done on some. And laying behind all of them, the shouting of a courtroom with fingers pointed and a building burned to ash from rage as likely as accidental and a cold Winter with an unknown Spring to come.

“I will do what I can” I responded.

Sometimes, Lucilius, we seek the hour out. Sometimes in spite of all we do, it finds us.

Your Obedient Servant, Seneca