Travel Is An Act Of Humility

Nothing Makes Me Feel Better - Calmer, Clearer And Happier - Than Being In One Place, Absorbed In A Book, A Conversation, A Piece Of Music. It's Actually Something Deeper Than Mere Happiness: It's Joy, Which The Monk David Steindl-rast Describes As 'that Kind Of Happiness That Doesn't Depend On What Happens.

Movement Is Only As Good As The Sense Of Stillness That You Can Bring To It To Put It Into Perspective.

I Loved The Quiet Places In Kyoto, The Places That Held The World Within A Windless Moment. Inside The Temples, Nature Held Her Breath. All Longing Was Put To Sleep In The Stillness, And All Was Distilled Into A Clean Simplicity. The Smell Of Woodsmoke, The Drift Of Incense; A Procession Of Monks In Black-and-gold Robes, One Of Them Giggling In A Voice Yet Unbroken; A Touch Of Autumn In The Air, A Sense Of Gathering Rain.

In A World Full Of Shifting Borders, Everything Is Happening All At Once In Every Possible Direction.

For If Every True Love Affair Can Feel Like A Journey To A Foreign Country, Where You Can’t Quite Speak The Language, And You Don’t Know Where You’re Going, And You’re Pulled Ever Deeper Into The Inviting Darkness, Every Trip To A Foreign Country Can Be A Love Affair, Where You’re Left Puzzling Over Who You Are And Whom You’ve Fallen In Love With.