“Write Drunk. Edit Sober.”
Hemingway
I am sitting in a restaurant in Kyoto. I’d tell you the name, but I don’t speak Japanese.
After dinner with some Remote Year friends I stumbled upon the restaurant. My plan was to head home, sleep maybe, but I stopped and spied through the window. People were laughing and enjoying themselves. It was captivating. A waitress caught my eye through the window and opened the door.
“Do you have sake?” I asked.
“Yes, but no speak English. No English menus.”
Perfect. A local spot. I sat at the bar.
The interior was decorated with light wood. Deep house music played as I flipped through menu was filled with photos of the chef with vegetables. He must love organic.
I sipped my sake as a coziness rushed through me. Despite the language barrier, the locals welcomed me. At least we could all understand one thing — throwing back sake shots!
The sake hit, so all the thoughts followed. The past few months in Asia flashed before me and I contemplated how they have changed me. I’ve learned about other people. I’ve learned about myself. I feel independent and my soul feels alive.
I think life is searching for moments like these, experiences like my time abroad has shown me. We yearn for answers, so we explore and discover. When I was little, I remember asking God for the meaning of life. What’s the purpose? Why is there evil, why is there good? That sort of thing. I’m addicted to finding the answers, or maybe just the journey on the way.
Like most people who travel often, I’ve seen so much beauty and so much pain. It’s a rollercoaster, but life would be mundane without it. We wouldn’t appreciate the good. Days and years would go by excruciatingly slow. We would be safe, but there would be no suspense or excitement.
Everyday is a roulette table filled with joy, misery, luck, failure, romance, betrayal, adventure and work. For some people the options are more limited. They eat today or they don’t.
I have moments of clarity. I think I finally understand, but then something unexpected happens and I realize I will never fully know our purpose. Maybe none of us ever will.
So we distract ourselves. We hide ourselves. We put on faces and worry about our looks and other’s opinions. We spend too much time on things with no meaning. The clock is ticking and we still don’t know what we’re doing.
It’s scary and lonely. These thoughts can plunge into darkness quickly, but maybe they are necessary so we can learn the value in a moment, the beauty of an experience and how essential connection is.
Traveling has allowed me to see first hand the truth. We are all the same. We don’t speak the same languages, but we are all human. I could have no idea what someone is saying but I can still read their body language. You can tell when someone is in love or angry. You can communicate without any words. There are gestures and smiles, hugs and handshakes. If you look in someone’s eyes you can read their thoughts, and if you share a drink of sake, you’ve bonded. You’ve shared something together.
Love and alcohol keep us together — when both are used responsibly, of course.
We need escapes from our minds and inhibitions sometimes. We want to have a good time! Share a drink! Laugh together! People want to alter their conscious, whether it be alcohol, hallucinogenics, pharmaceutical drugs, etc. We are all searching, just like the search we have when we travel. We can bond over that yearning and remember how similar we all are. Life piles up and painful experiences weigh on us. We all understand the importance of a release.
At the bar in Kyoto, when the deep house music plays, it moves through me. Music is another part of our universal language. We hear it and we dance. Wherever you go, whatever you’re doing — driving in the car, getting ready for the day, at work, at a restaurant, club, even at the grocery store. Music makes us feel and move.
So it’s music, love and alcohol. Maybe they’re all part of the same thing.
I laugh with strangers over the music. Our energy is feeling a lot like love under the light buzz of sake. In the moment, we forget the past and the future. I close my eyes and take a mental picture. I will go back to this time, this place, these people, the sounds of their laughter to remind myself the value of the right now.
Right now, I’m sending out a big thanks to whoever created/invented Sake.
Life goes on!
