Trip Notes: Blue, Far, Wide Sky
"If I had my life to live over." A line from a poem left by the British poet Nadine Stair. “If I had my life to live over.” In that poem, she writes—unexpectedly—“I would have done more foolish things.” Doing foolish things. At first glance, it seems irrational, meaningless. But when one truly faces death, the final moment when we leave this Earth, perhaps humans are the kind of creatures who feel exactly that.
Invited by a friend, I traveled to Maastricht, a city in the southern Netherlands. I went there to see a festival held in the area. I had visited this somewhat remote city before—this landlocked island, this appendix-like corner of the Netherlands. Back then, in the flow of the journey, I crossed the border to Belgium by bicycle with people I had met for the first time. We ended up watching a night carnival in a small village. It might have been a foolish thing to do in one sense, and in another sense, it might have been one of the wonderful life experiences. Either way, I felt there might be a mysterious connection between myself and this city.
As we approached the festival grounds, a deep bass that echoed into the depths of my chest reached me. Passing through the gate and wandering around the wide venue, I saw crowds of people dancing and singing to the music, creating a commotion so obvious and so loud. Even though today felt a little chilly, there were a fair number of shirtless people near the stages. With a drink in hand, arms around each other’s shoulders, dancing—they looked like well-groomed pirates.
People who had clearly taken some kind of drug were mostly gathered at the front of the stage. They wore the atmosphere of this moment being the best moment of their lives, smiling like children on the first day of summer vacation. In Europe, a region that is harsh to live in in some ways, I realized that drugs and festivals were holding hands. Taking drugs, dancing to overwhelming music, expressing themselves, laughing together. As if releasing their everyday stress, or as if they had been working all this time for this very moment. There were also many elderly people in the crowd. They hugged each other with smiles, as if reuniting after a long time. It was proof that this culture has continued for many years.
It was a sight I never see in Japan. A cultural background I had never thought much about. It felt senseless to judge it as good or bad based only on my own immature and biased standards. I simply absorbed the fact that this culture has continued in this land, from long ago right up to the present. In Japan, it would probably be something like our festivals. And finding myself from a distant island nation standing in the middle of this foreign culture felt like a small umeboshi that had suddenly wandered into a Western-style buffet.
When a popular artist descended onto the stage, the voltage of the crowd rose by one gear—no, by two gears. At that moment, I was holding a small crystal of pure MDMA in my left hand. Among drugs, there are many that one should never touch. Those must be avoided by researching and understanding them well. But it is also true that there are substances which, when not misused, can help open one’s heart. Alcohol, ganja, or even coffee and sugar might belong to that category. Pure MDMA was one of the latter. It is something used in a medical context as a treatment for PTSD. I had tried MDMA only once before. I remembered it as something mellow and different from ganja or alcohol. I took a tiny amount, given by someone I trusted, and in a “when in Rome” kind of way, I ate it at the side of the venue. I washed away its distinct bitterness with water, and returned to the frenzy.
Earlier, I had also smoked ganja. The floating sensation was layered with that mellow effect. The heated pulse of the venue. The people dancing as if they were old friends. They looked so joyful, so childlike, and I felt affection for them. Even in front of the roaring speakers, I fell into a feeling of being somewhere safe, quiet, and gentle. I remembered feeling something similar long ago in Guatemala when I climbed a mountain taller than Mt. Fuji. It felt like staring at a clear lake at dawn, the surface without a single ripple—like being the lake itself…
For a long, long time, humanity has continued to fight. Sadly, even now somewhere a war is burning. Some suffer, some die on the streets. But here, now, in this moment, peace itself exists. When everyone resonates with one good vibration, we transcend all boundaries—nationality, language, religion, age, authority. We become one. I felt that humanity could get along more. That things might change for the better. A feeling like a prayer, like a conviction, coursed through my whole body. I nodded alone many times, as if affirming it. When the live set ended, I realized how exhausted I was. The festival was still going on, but my friend and I left the venue quickly and walked toward a quiet park. It felt like the most natural thing to do.
I took off my shoes and socks and lay on the grass. How gentle, how soft, how fresh the sensation was. A world seen from the perspective of small creatures, a world that can only be seen when my face becomes parallel to the ground. The tiny white flowers blooming no bigger than a fingernail were brave and magnificent. The scent of soil and living green. In the silence, insects and birds were singing together with the wind. The wind was neither warm nor cold, and wrapped my body like a luxurious blanket. I felt as if I could grasp the wind between my fingers. The sky was blue, and far, and wide. The distant trees were dancing together in a fluffy, friendly way.
Without saying anything, the sun shone warmth and light down on the world from high above. Without saying anything, the air came into my body with each breath in, and with each breath out it softly left me. Nature was always there just as it was, asking for nothing in return, offering everything freely. This body was the same as nature, beating and pulsing and keeping me alive without asking for anything. All of that seems so ordinary, but it is never ordinary. I felt gratitude and emotion for that simple truth. How blessed, how precious this world is, this everyday life is.
I want to cherish this beautiful nature,
I want to cherish this Earth.
Humanity still has hope.
We can surely become better...
Coming back once again to this city—this landlocked island, this appendix of the Netherlands, this remote place—I felt there must truly be a mysterious connection here. And until the moment when I leave this Earth, what can I do for this planet and humanity? What do I want to do? Why was I born? Surely there must be something. It might be art, or it might be something else. I don’t need the answer right away. But since I have felt this sensation, I want to keep exploring and acting in my own way. The tiny white flower blooming before me, no bigger than a fingernail, neither stared at me nor spoke to me, but simply stayed quietly by my side. I kept looking up at the sky—blue, and far, and wide. In the distance a few seagulls were crying sharply. One of them seemed to say, “Maybe life is irrational, meaningless, and maybe it’s okay to do more foolish things.”
P.S.
This content is solely a personal experience and reflection, and it is not intended to encourage or promote illegal activity.
