
Airports are good places for training and trying to hold on to that still centre. Indeed you have little choice. I have never enjoyed the departure process, and the thought of the future Airbus 380 with
two decks fills me with dread. As Singapore Airlines takes delivery later this year, it is possible that I will put this foreboding to the test. Everything about airports seems designed to induce stress, an extreme version of a consumer culture distilled into a small space, devoid of anything calming and natural. Amsterdam's Schiphol has a meditation centre, and I'm sure many would welcome similar quiet oases, no talking, no mobile phones, peaceful lighting, calm. A friend used to find obscure stair wells in distant parts of the airport, and sit on the steps, but these days you are as likely to be cautioned or worse. So, I will make my own calmness.
It has been a graceful ending to the week, most things
"resolved" (fine word). What isn't can wait. Bag packed, checked-in on-line, laptop backed-up, keys disbursed, taxi ordered.
Many small things have helped this journey, most unremarked. That includes several blogs whose authors have a lightness of touch I have yet to achieve.
"Teaching without teaching". I thank you all.
If there are mountains, I look at mountains;
On rainy days I listen to the rain.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
Tomorrow too will be good.
Tonight too is good.
Yama areba yama o miru
ame no hi ame o kiku
haru natsu aki fuyu
ashita mo yoroshi
yūbe mo yoroshi
From "Mountain Tasting" Haiku by Santoka Taneda, translated by John Stevens, Weatherhill