Post 16: Happy in Hokkaido

Alone, we enter this world.  Alone, we leave it.

Solitude, at it’s very root, is intrinsic to the human condition.

When one is alone, there are fewer distractions.  One can breathe.

My trip is constantly shaped by my self-chosen solitude.  I have the freedom to explore, to meet new people, to try new activities.

Over and over, I’ve found myself atop a mountain, marveling at the beauty of this world, or on a windswept beach, watching the sun light up a spectacular horizon, or in a vast nighttime cityscape, blinking at the light-strewn tapestry of ten thousand different lives.

I’ve had the humbling fortune to glimpse so many beautiful places in our vast world.

However, I’ve noticed a problem.

No matter how high the mountain, or dazzling the sunset, or vast the city, I’ve found that something is missing when experienced alone.  I want to get lost in the moment, to surrender to the beauty around me, but something, way in the back of the brain, nags.

The moment somehow doesn’t feel complete.

I’ve realized, these moments of beauty, of nature, these moments of life, feel more complete when you share them.

And what’s more, they feel most complete when you share them with someone you love.