Hinoe-uma

Happy New Year! So, yeah... here I am, trying to write my first blog post of the year. I mean, it’s not like anyone is really reading this or anything, but I’m going to keep on using this space to just... jot down my daily thoughts and whatever’s been on my mind.

So, what have I been thinking about lately? Let me see... let me try to remember. Oh, actually, since last year, my apartment building has been under construction—the exterior work, you know? And for two whole months at the end of the year, they had the whole place covered up. You know how they do it? With the scaffolding and that mesh screen or whatever, so you can't see out. Yeah, exactly that. It stayed like that for two months.

And, well... those two months were honestly pretty dark. And on top of that, right at the start of October, I came down with this massive fever. It felt like the flu, I think. My throat didn't hurt, so it probably wasn't "that" virus, but yeah, I caught the flu, which is rare for me. Since I started freelancing, I’ve literally never taken a day off for a cold—my only real strength was how healthy I was! But that fever in October... it was rough, let me tell you. I didn't even go to the hospital; I just tough it out and healed on my own. I had no choice but to handle it myself, really. So, there was that.

And then, just when I thought that was over, the construction started, and it was just... darkness. But right around that time, the "veil" over the building was finally stripped away, and I could finally open my windows and get back to normal. See, the only good thing about this room is the sunlight—it gets so much light. I’ve got big windows on the east, west, and south sides, so it’s actually a bit too bright. Because of that, I wake up early and go to bed early... I’m basically living like a plant.

Anyway, when they were setting up the scaffolding, some of my gardening tools on the south balcony got... well, it’s not like the workers broke them, but they moved them. Or rather, they were moved without me knowing. And when I went to put them back in their original spot, the case thingy ended up getting damaged. I thought, "Okay, I’ve gotta toss this," so I finally threw it out at the end of the year. And that cleared up some space! And because of that, I started looking at the western sky more—which I don’t usually do.

Since the south side was all cleared up, and I’m in Tokyo, if I stand with my face to the south, the western sky is on my right and the east is on my left. To the left is where Edo Castle and the Imperial Palace are, and to the right is the direction of the mountains—where Mt. Fuji is. I’ve always thought the view of the western sky was pretty good. You know, like, "Oh, there are mountains way out there."

But the view to the east is usually better, so I was always looking that way. But since the south balcony was cleared, I got a bit curious about the west. And I thought... "Wait, maybe, just maybe, I can see Mt. Fuji from here." Just a tiny bit, I thought.

One cloudy day, I had this feeling: "If it clears up, I might see it." And sure enough, when the sun came out, there it was. It’s tiny, really small, but since it’s winter, I could see Fuji all dressed in white snow. When I say "see it," I just mean I could see a little bit of the triangle shape. But even so, I was so happy! I know if I went somewhere with a better view or got closer, the scenery would be spectacular, but just being able to see it from my place... that made me so happy.

And I guess everyone thinks the same way—they all want to see Fuji. There’s this house nearby with a little... what do you call it? Like a tiny penthouse or a shed on the roof? Not a water tank, but one of those little structures you see on top of apartments. It’s built exactly in the line of sight of the peak of Mt. Fuji. It feels like they built it specifically to aim for that view. If that wasn't there, I’d be able to see the whole thing perfectly from my room, but because of it, I can only see a tiny bit. I know it sounds like I'm complaining—like, 'If that wasn't there, I could see the whole thing!'—but that's not it at all. Still—I was so happy to see even that little bit.

Since it’s the New Year, at the end of December, I put a small kadomatsu (pine decoration) at my entrance. I put it there to welcome the gods, you know? Just as a way of welcoming them with a pure heart. I placed it right there by the entrance on the south side. And then I realized... if I face south, Fuji is on my right and the Imperial Palace is on my left. My place is literally on the straight line connecting the two. It’s like a path.

Then, just a bit ago, I looked at the wooden base of the pine decoration, and a piece of it was missing—like someone had taken a bite out of a baumkuchen. Sure, wood can crack or split naturally as it dries. The inside holds moisture while the outside dries fast, so the tension makes it snap. I get that. But it’s not a big decoration, and for a little piece of wood to split like that... the timing was just too perfect. I can’t help but think it was a sign from the gods as they passed through. Like they were saying, "We’re here!"

Japan is full of these invisible flows of energy, or ki and ryuumyaku. There’s that belief that gods reside in the mountains, and Mt. Fuji is a sacred mountain with incredibly strong energy. So, on that path from Fuji toward Edo Castle... I’m sure they passed right through here, and that was the sign. It actually made my heart flutter a little. It didn't feel negative at all; it was a really lovely impression.

Starting the New Year like this feels so good. The building's exterior is finally clean and finished, too. It feels like all sorts of energies have started flowing again, and it’s just... good. So, that’s how I want to take on this year. This year is the "Fire Horse" (Hinoe-uma), a year of immense power. I want to borrow some of that energy and just run right through the year.

Let's do our best together.