Shibuya again

Here I sit in Shibuya not far from where I went at the beginning of this trip. I have crossed that crossing amongst the masses myriad times. I have yet to be robbed.

The main thing I misplaced was hostel keys. This is unsurprising.

I packed the wrong things. I was awkward at times. I have been tired, as ever reminded that my body is not as it once was and that it’s limits are always there awaiting me, reminding me that I am finite and fragile.

I worry about how I am going to travel in the future, but overall I feel good. As good as I can possibly hope for.

That anxiety and fear is gone. I am safe, this is nice, I am enjoying it. I settle into things.

I also have nothing much to steal. Enough to buy a 7/11 dinner and transit fare to the airport.

The main thing to worry about now is my flight. I check the time over and over in the hope that the triplicate events in my phone (generated by some sort of email thing not me) are in fact real and right, that I am not as ever messing up and getting the details wrong. Something to work on. Trusting myself, trusting that things will work out, that I can be safe and okay.

I am content. I am here in this moment. Savouring what remains.