Filled with a strange feeling 不思議 of “returning home” and life coming full circle, beginning and ending, birth and death, as I find myself staying near 熊野神社 the shrine in the Tokyo neighborhood where I was born. The first time I returned here many years ago, I felt that I had been here before. As my uncle showed me around, I already knew where the shrine was; I knew where the temple was. And while I had been here before, it was a long time ago and I was just a baby. Now, remarkably I am staying often in a guest house that just happens to be down the street from our old home. I'm not sure if it's a compelling life narrative, a good story that I've constructe--that I'm meant to die here, but when it first came to me, it felt real, like an intuition. It wasn't sad or morbid, but more of a peaceful feeling, as if it was meant to be--to arrive home at the end of all my travels.