In music, one doesn’t make the end of a composition the point of the composition. – Alan Watts
This evening, I met up with R in Ginza to belatedly celebrate his birthday. For those of you who don’t know or remember, R is my fellow American and incredibly awesome housemate from Borderless House. He’s a friend in whose company life becomes “more”: more special, calmer, brighter, and just all-around better.
He led the way to the restaurant in Ginza, Isola Blu, a comfortable, yet spartan in decor, three-floor, Italian restaurant on a quiet side street. We arrived before the dinner rush (if they have a dinner rush), and for almost two hours had almost the entire second floor to ourselves.
We ordered a Margherita pizza, a rich gnocchi, warm bread, and glasses of wine. The creaminess of the cheese sauce on the gnocchi created such feelings of rapture in R that he closed his eyes after almost every bite.
Over coffee, we continued to catch up. (It’s been a long time, since we’ve each seen other.) While on the subject of getting the most out of our everyday lives, R introduced me to Alan Watts, a British philosopher (who has been blowing my mind from dinner until now. Three hours later, I’m still listening to his lectures on YouTube.) Before R and I parted, he reiterated that life’s a dance and encouraged my urge to wander Tokyo by bike.
Though a tad muggy, a slight breeze blew, so with Alan Watts in my ears, and a quiet mind, I danced across bridges and down alleyways. What a wonderful night.
We thought of life by analogy with a journey, with a pilgrimage, which had a serious purpose at the end, and the thing was to get to that end– success or whatever it is, or maybe heaven, after you’re dead. But, we missed the point the whole way along. It was a musical thing, and you were supposed to sing or to dance, while the music was being played. – Alan Watts
Take care (and dance),