Every morning, Kenzo has a routine of asking me about the temperature so he can decide what to wear. He's become quite adept at understanding the concept and uses this information to select his clothes for the day. Meanwhile, I have my own laid-back approach, preferring to gauge the weather by simply opening the window and letting my senses pass judgment on it. However, I've come to realize that relying solely on this method isn't always accurate, especially considering how rapidly the weather can change throughout the day here in Sendai. Especially now that we’re officially in monsoon season.
Today, as Kenzo asked me once again about the temperature, I obliged by checking my trusty weather app. It informed me that the high temperature for the day would be 23°C, accompanied by clouds and a chance of rain, which we can now safely assume means it’s gonna be humid too. Observing the forecast, Kenzo was already planning to wear a long-sleeved shirt and his jacket. However, I couldn't help but think he might end up hot and sweaty if he stuck with that choice.
Knowing Kenzo's fussy nature when it comes to such matters, I gently advised him against his initial outfit decision. I explained that despite his desire for warmth, the combination of high humidity and potential rain might make him uncomfortable in his chosen attire. It was a small battle of preferences between us, but in the end, he reluctantly agreed to opt for a lighter, more suitable outfit.
This is nearly a daily ritual, and sometimes it ends it tears. Kenzo’s, that is.
Later, after a hectic and desk-bound afternoon, I found myself craving a breath of fresh air (when am I not?) and a change of scenery. It was one of those moments again when I realized I had been too consumed by work, barely leaving my desk throughout the day. Determined to rectify this, I decided to take a much-needed late afternoon walk. I find that I paint myself into this corner more and more regularly these days, and I need to knock it off.
As I walked up a hilly side street, I was greeted by the beauty of a field blanketed in a riot of colorful flowers. I pass by this spot almost every day, but today It was a picturesque sight, seemingly untouched by the chaos of the day. Captivated by its allure, I paused to capture the moment, taking a quick photo that I thought might serve as a reminder of the tranquility I had found amidst the bustling demands of life.
After my walk, I returned home to join Eri and the boys for a delicious dinner. The picture I took of our joyful gathering captures the essence of that moment—a moment of shared happiness and contentment, where we set aside the stresses of the day and simply enjoyed each other's company. For some reason Eri picks random days to go all and create a king’s feast. Chu-toro sashimi, octopus and avocado salad, green pepper and sweet potato tempura.
Looking back on the day, I realized how these two pictures encapsulated the contrasting experiences I had. The field of flowers represented a much-needed escape, a chance to disconnect from the demands of my job and reconnect with the natural beauty all around me in my neighborhood. In contrast, the image of our dinner showcased the warmth and love shared within the walls of our home, a reminder that even amidst the chaos, there are always moments of solace and togetherness. I tend to take that for granted sometimes.
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
- Maya Angelou
I think there’s a delicate dance between finding personal moments of peace and embracing the joyous connections we have with our loved ones. It's these moments that make the journey worthwhile, and I'm reminded once again of the beauty that lies within the everyday.
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