When departing on a journey, it’s customary for farewells to follow. The same was true on the day I took my first steps toward Heavenly Sword Mountain.
It was a day when the morning sunlight was unusually warm.
Feeling anew that we were crossing the boundary of seasons, I finished my final preparations. In truth, it wasn’t something that could even be called ‘preparations.’ Most of the luggage was to be sent separately, so the only item I needed to carry was a simple backpack.
Beyond that, the necessary items would be something like a sword and a hand axe?
With that, the preparations were more than sufficient. A body that had reached the level of ‘Master’ was closer to a ‘concept’ than ‘matter,’ exempting it from all activities required for sustaining life. Therefore, food, water, and even clothing weren’t essentials for me.
In the worst case, even if I were thrown naked into a snowy field, survival wouldn’t be an issue.
More important than that was a separate matter. It was the ‘farewell greetings’ to share with those I wouldn’t see for a while.
The more precious connections one has, the more poignant the moments of parting become.
Even if it was a temporary separation, the regretful feelings were unavoidable. Wasn’t the woman right in front of me, straightening my collar, the same?
The gaze…