Steps

I take the worn wolf-tail brush from my satchel and lay it down on the floor of the workroom. Mother would have wanted it to rest here now that these windows will no longer cast candlelight shadows in the night. They say the greatest journey begins with a single step. Yet this first step is a step away from where you are - a step away from who you are. Every journey transforms you, and I am not sure whether I am brave enough for this journey. All I know is that I will never be any stronger if I stay hidden away among these persimmon trees.

The bamboo grove is silent today. There is no wind to rustle the hollow woods. I take one final glance at the cottage where I grew up. All the memories that line the walls of this cottage will haunt me every time I smell the tart fragrance of persimmons. I sling the satchel over my shoulder and begin a journey to a destination I have not chosen yet. In my mind, I replay the scene over and over again - the woman at the market who held my hand ever so briefly. I do not understand why this sliver of time lingers in me with such ferocity. Nor can I say with any certainty how the night under the rain has changed me. All I know is that the desire to craft rain-shades has faded away since that night.

I follow the light of dawn, and it isn't until I reach the crossroads that I realize it should already be noon. And yet the gentle illumination of dawn still remains in the skies. I stare as far as I can in all directions of the crossroads, but I do not see anyone else. I choose the path the light seems to be hovering towards. I cannot tell how long it is I have been walking because this day that never quite began seems to be standing still. Perhaps I am dreaming, but how do I doubt this clarity I am suddenly feeling?

And then finally, after walking for perhaps a few days, I arrive on the shores of a small lake filled with lotus blossoms. There is a pavilion that seems to float in the middle of the waters, connected to the shore by a meandering series of ornate flat stone steps. I walk towards the pavilion and it is not until I reach the final step that I see her. She is holding her long black hair back with one slender hand while pouring tea with the other. She smiles at me. I am suddenly conscious of my own unshaven face and dusty clothes.

"You must have traveled very far. Come. Have a sip of tea." She pours some chrysanthemum tea in one of the empty ceramic cups as I sit down facing her. She unwraps a lotus leaf that has been steamed with sweetened rice inside. As I take a sip of the tea, this delicate union of fragrances that smells nothing like persimmons floods me with memories.

I see the reflection of the dawn on the lake, woven into the lotus blossoms themselves. And I suddenly realize that perhaps it was I who brought dawn in my footsteps. The waters of the lake seem to shiver for one brief moment, and then morning finally breaks forth from the skies.

"So tell me. Where are you traveling to?" The woman asks me. I take one final glance at the skies before answering,

"I think this is where I am meant to be." She smiles at me as she refills my cup with the fragrant tea.