Afterimage 52: Travel as Breath
Seeing the Delta, Lives Before and After the Pandemic
no 52
Being present is the unique gift of being alive. This newsletter is an exploration of small ways to cultivate more presence.
Welcome to installment 52 of Afterimage!
I’m back from summer travels.
When something from the past week stays with me, I go back and see it in my mind’s eye— I fact-check it, seeing things as they were, and observe how my body responded at the moment. I call this the Afterimage.
After I have a good look at the Afterimage, I invite my mind to ponder it. That’s the Afterthought.
Here's what I saw, heard, or sensed that’s stayed with me over the past few weeks.
Let’s begin.
Afterimage: Travel as Breath
Boarding my flight, I realized I’d forgotten how much Japan compresses me. The longer I stay, the smaller I am. Stepping out of Japan expands me.
I used to leave twice a year, once at a minimum. Travel is like breathing. Step out of the country to inhale and expand my world; come back to exhale, contract, and gather myself.
The pandemic put a hold on a lot of things. I noticed most of it was external and physical. What I hadn’t expected was for it to extend into my thoughts and my sense of desire. I stopped myself from thinking about where I want to be, where I want to go and instead, focused on where I am, and what I want right now.
I made friends with limitations. It was a creative exercise of sorts, not necessarily a bad thing.
The vastness here in the Japanese countryside made me forget for a brief moment that Japan is a cocoon. Stay too long in a cocoon though, the butterfly in me dies.
Exhale: Going inward, reflection in Japan
By mid-July, I felt like I had everything I wanted from a great summer.
While my daughter spent two weeks with her best friend, I caught up with mine over smoky highballs and izakaya food on work, love, loss, and building something that’s yours. In Kyoto, I witnessed my daughter in her last annual ritual at the temple. It made me see how much she’s grown over the past ten ceremonies.
After a few days of unrelenting heat (magnified by our kimonos), we headed for the beach. Shimoda gave me sun, ice cream, and aloe for sunburnt skin. Over the years, it’s welcomed me as a lovers’ getaway. As a solo retreat. This year, this beach was a stunning backdrop to celebrate a friend’s birthday, a long-overdue catchup, and time to reflect on the different kinds of love that visit me in my life.
After Shimoda, my daughter told me she had a great summer, as if it were over. Little did we know that another part of my summer was just beginning.
Inhale: Outward, Across the Pacific
We traveled across the Pacific. There, I saw friends and how they’ve landed on the other side of the pandemic. First stop: LA.
During our time apart, my sister-friend Lena launched LWN: her clothing line.
LWN, currently in its terrible twos, is giving her a good dose of the highs and lows of (brand) recognition and (product)fulfillment.
I see why she’s out of stock. I poked around the studio and tried on coats and jackets, trousers for fall: easy pieces that made me look and feel put together. And comfortable. I need that in my work as a coach.
The tops feel good. The trousers look good. The jackets are easy, effortless. And deceptive: there’s ingenuity behind the simplicity. There’s decades of engineering and functionality experience in each piece, from her time at Hussein Chalayan, Alexander McQueen and Puma.
Working at home, I have a new level of expectation when it comes to comfort. And I still like to look good. Everything I tried on struck the perfect balance between looking good, feeling good, and ease. A part of me still thinks in the gender binary: “This is what it must feel like to get dressed for work. As a man.”
:::
When I’m in Los Feliz, we work hard, then eat hard. Lena’s my food sherpa extraordinaire. I always get a little taste of the best in town at any given moment. This time they were:
A pistachio latte in Los Feliz
A walk at the Observatory followed by bagels. (I read a while ago California is now the bagel capital of the US. I didn’t believe it until the morning I ate here.)
Tacos preceded by a visit to four stories of deadstock fabric
And cold noodles in KTown before heading to a shop opening in West Hollywood
Both my belly and heart are happy and full when we’re together.
:::
I had breakfast across the country, on the Upper West Side. A big sister is now making the documentaries she’s always wanted to make, living in the neighborhood she loves, and enjoying what it means to be a woman crossing the threshold into her sixties. We feasted on a resplendent spread from Zabar’s on the East River.
I took the 1 Train to the West Village and reconnected over lunch with K and G over Georgian food. They marveled at how H (my daughter) has grown. I reveled at the mushroom-shaped khinkali dumplings and mkhali spreads, and how close we remain despite how infrequently we meet.
Full from a whole day of food and catching up on years of conversation, we made our way to MoMA to see Georgia O’Keefe.
:::
The beginning of the trip brought me reconnection. The end of my trip brought me new experiences with new people and places.
I saw Barbie in Santa Monica. I left the parking lot near the AMC Santa Monica and turned onto the corner of Wilshire and Ocean Avenue, where Barbie exits and the film ends.
Then, I swam for the first time in LA. At the beach, I got to duck waves with people I work with. I got to hug them IRL. They’re people I’ve come to care about— and had only known on Zoom until this visit.
:::
At LAX T3, H turned to me and said “It’s cool to see you in America. I get you better. I see where you’re coming from. It’s cool to see you with old and new friends. They love you.”
I welcomed her words, an apt summary. I inhaled the love.
After-thought: The Delta
Dream vacations used to mean exotic destinations. Beautiful vistas. Exquisite accommodations.
But now? It’s about people. Connection. Seeing and being seen.
The pandemic was long. Seeing the changes in my friends’ lives made me wonder what my life might look like to them, after this long four-year gap. Meeting new friends made me consider possibilities I hadn’t considered before.
I’m too close to the trees to really see the delta in my life, the difference between pre and post-pandemic life?
What does that look like? I’m taking time this week to reflect.
::::
What’s yours?
What’s your delta, pre and post-pandemic? There’s the obvious. Then, there are the themes. The larger picture. The thing.
How has this unprecedented pause in time changed the trajectory of your life? Let me know: your thoughts fuel mine.