Familiar Novelty

I started out the day in the onsen, alone except for the sounds of a man on the other side of the divide, somehow showering at the same time, going outside and returning at the same time, and leaving at the same time.   Alone and able to play in the shallow pools of water without the judgment of another adult.  Walking on my hands, twisting and turning in the weightlessness of the water.   In the outdoor onsen I sat in the falling snow, looking out over the hills feeling the chill of the air as it touch the heat of the water, my body in between.  Two extremes from which one might wish to retreat and yet here they live together on my skin.  Something about Hokkaido makes me think often of this ability to live, to live so fully, in the midst of something adverse. 

And later today I went cross-country skiing for the first time and I experienced a winter zipline for the first time.  Two completely new things for me but for which my body had some previous point of reference.  Amazing to grow older.  The backdrop of novelty. 

At lunch we played an impromtu concert in the Australian-filled dining room of the Hanazono Ski resort.  And before dinner this evening we played a concert in front of windows looking out over a huge slope with skiers and snowboarders racing to the bottom.  Both times, the hosts and audiences were so appreciative, treating us to meals, thanking us. 

I'm finding something here that is so familiar.  An integration of people with music and experience.  And yet in this new place, something so completely new.  A new culture, a new way of being curious and adventurous and open to life.  And hoping to keep this trend moving in the coming year.  To keep touching in new and familiar ways.