keep clam! (only my washingtonian constituents will understand that intentional mis-spelling)

I mosied out of Wakakusa two days ago with my dirty old green messenger bag slung over my shoulder. It was heavy with books a little black vine climbing out the side pouch, crawling up my shoulder, and connected to the headphones singing in my ears.
It was a hot and humid day, so I pulled back my hair , put on a light-weight cotton t-shirt, and disguised my wild blue eyes behind the cheap, plastic shades I bought on vacation two years ago.
Plopping myself down on my bicycle, I was geared up with nothing more than good tunes (thanks again, Angie) and ambition (thanks again, my creator).
I had two goals today. One; finish off some of that Nihongo homework that has been threatening to overwhelm me. Two; prove myself capable of developing a sense of direction. Three hours of aimless peddling around Hyogo accomplished the second task - and the paradise I found in my travels was the ideal setting for accomplishing the first.
I just rode - no rhyme or reason to the random corners I turned or streets I explored. Using a few key geographic features "keep the mountains on the right... stay between this river and that river... remember how many railroads you cross..."
I explored the inner regions of Nishinomiya. I offered my security as a sacrifice and was consumed by the monster-city that surrounds me. I crawled inside the belly of the beast that had been terrorizing me with fear.
I had to go it alone; I had to loose myself, without allowing myself the fear of being "lost." Consequentially, I learned that "not knowing where you are, or where you are going" is completely different that being "lost." I knew where I was at all times. Well, at least in the very "Our Town" fashion: Nishinomiya, Hyogo, Kansai, Japan, Northern Hemisphere, Planet Earth, The Milky Way, The Eye of (God? Buddha? Allah? Alanis Morisette? Insert your own interpretation here, I wouldn't even try to select one for you...) But I digress.
I intentionally left my camera at home for this trip. I just didn't feel like squinting through a camera lens today. Instead I wanted the feeling of having my eyes wide open. I saw some beautiful sights too. I have always loved lists of streaming consciousness: A preadolescent schoolgirl walking alone, wearing a powder blue uniform far too large for her - An extremely crowded Buddhist cemetery, the kanji marked towers parallel images of the domino-like apartments and sky-scrapers that formerly housed the cemetery occupants- An old man wearing a grey hat, with deep, dark, sun-stained skin, smiling a toothless grin at a cheery foreigner he probably didn't expect to see in this neighborhood - A startled woman under a bridge (I turned suddenly) whose caked-upon-make-up-face was running from the tears in her eyes - An old mural on the side of a dusty elementary school, big chunks of paint chipped away...
As I traveled I called upon years of experience from the bayhouse. I found the ocean using only my instincts of smell and touch. The stench of kelp in the sun, and the forceful ocean breeze are the same anywhere in the world - and following them will inevitably lead one to sparkling waters and children playing in sand.
Peddling hard against the ocean breeze, peeling back the layers of skyscrapers that curtained my stage, I found what I hadn't realized I was looking for. A grassy little spot of shade below palm leaves beside the glittering Nishinomiya Ocean shore was my resting place.
I don't know the name of the park I found, the water I sat beside, or the streets that took me to and from. But I do know this: We are where we are, because we choose to be there. And this destination is mine, because of the path I haphazardly chose. I could not predict the hills nor valleys that lie in my way, but I made the conscious decision to ride through them. Is there a greener pasture, a more beautiful ocean? A bluer sky? Who knows, I'm happy with any ocean I find for myself.
Reinvigorated by my trip, I cracked the books and studied for hours. I fed my mind with the rich flavor of my foreign language. I ravaged the books and didn't stop until my mind hiccupped, and told me it was full. So I folded the books shut, lay back, and thank the world for... everything.
On my bicycle again, I found my way back to Koshien where smiling, genuine friends were waiting for me. My sun-kissed face smiled back, and I joyously drank every last drop of a silly, yet celebratory evening.