The tsunami was 40 feet high when it rose out of the sea and swept away the area of Yuiage.

The disaster plan in place was that people go to the school building, which they did. The wave inundated the school and all within perished.

Nothing is left of the neighborhoods, the lives and the dreams of the people who lived here except cement foundations and shards of broken pottery.

We cannot begin to understand the loss.

There is no way to express the depth of feeling the Tohoku (N E Japan) portion of this journey has engendered.

"HEALING WITH CHI" was the intention: to help bring about a more light heart, share methods for relaxation and to hopefully dispell some of the physical/ mental and emotional pain, fear and grief that still grips those who experienced the triple disaster.

I first spent time in Sendai with the dear family of my friend Shingo who passed away two years ago. There was an opportunity to offer some hands-on energy work for his sister in law, Masako-san, who had slipped and fallen the day before, and emotional release work with his sister, Nobuko-san who was still grieving his death. She was able to shed tears she had been holding back and to make commitment to enjoy herself as much as possible from now--as he most certainly had wanted for her.

I will write in more depth later about this reunion.

KAWAII means "cute" "adorable" "charming" in Japanese. An entire genre of couture emerged with it as the theme.

People watching on Omotesando St., these two young women stood out. Every detail of dress was perfect, including make-up and hair.

We both agreed that it seemed like a day since we'd sat together at a cafe. It had been three years.

As it rained gently outside on Aoyama Dori, I enjoyed the company of a special soul as we shared our hearts along with smoked salmon sandwiches and a pasta with octopus in a tasty red sauce.

Essentially, we noted how keenly aware we are of the impermanence, the mutability, ("mujou" in Japanese) of life and the preciousness of each day--each moment. He walks two hours each day at dusk, a particularly poignant time of day when the inevitability of change is clearly apparent. Day slips into night.

Both of us feel on the threshold of something new and free. Of the future, though, we cannot know.

I reminded him of a quote of Steinbeck that he repeated to me three years ago: "Who knows?...or should?"

The Japanese often work long hours, robbing them of enough sleep. It is not unusual to see people--even young women and men--sleeping on their extended commutes.

Cell phone calls are prohibited on subways, but many are texting or playing games on their phones.

If one photograph is worth a thousand words, here are three the require no words at all! Photographed yesterday in trendy HARAJUKU