The year started with a boy’s trip. Or as the Assuies we met called it: a Lad’s holiday. Conceived as a ski trip in Niseko, Lowell, Colin, Owen and I traveled to Japan. First a few days in Tokyo, then North to Hokkaido. They three had been a few years prior, but this would be my first time in Japan and while I couldn’t wait to ski, it was secondary to me. What I most looked forward to was simply spending time with my friends and experiencing the Japanese culture.

I met Lowell and Colin both freshman year of college eight years ago, not long after we were introduced to Owen. Following St. Mary’s we all lived in Oakland, but Lowell and Colin have since left the bay. Lowell first to Seattle and Colin a year or two ago. Owen is just across the water in San Francisco. We chat often — I’m guilty of perhaps not engaging enough — and gather together once or twice a year still. We last all met up in Seattle to celebrate Lowell. It had been too long.

The culture of Japan fascinates me. Less so the modern oddities. Although there is much to explore there. Rather the culture and history of pre-imperial Japan. To me, a layman, they seemed to keep whole that which Kierkegaard cleaved apart: the ethical and aesthetic. Particularly embodied by the idea of Ma. I’m sure to do an injustice in explaining, but it’s like a purposeful gap or void, its negative space. Empty space that gives balance or serves to highlight that which occupies. Or maybe simply a lull in the conversation of old friends, left unfilled to appreciate that moment.

One great example of Ma was the Nezu museum in Tokyo: both the museum itself and it’s art. On display was Ancient Japanese Calligraphy. Maybe the mystery of language added to the beauty of these simple scrolls, but they were so exquisite. An example follows.

Ma could also be the purposeful empty space between a tiered roof also pictured below from a temple we visited. Examples are simply everywhere, and even back home in California. My home cathedral Christ the Light exhibits it wonderfully. It was not just emptiness we experienced, but also fullness that only a city like Tokyo could offer. Perhaps best exemplified in Shibuya crossing; masses of people crossing and filling the street. Intersecting but momentarily, modern mono no aware.

Other adventures and experiences of and in Tokyo’s fullness included a crowded Sumo tournament, congested bars in both Omoide Yokocho and Golden-gai, dense dance floors at WARP, incensed filled temples and shrines that dot the city, and, of course, touristy animal cafes; where I finally achieved a personal dream of hanging with some very sweet (albeit slightly stinky) capybaras. And between all the trains and Ubers and walks crossing Tokyo frequent stops for snacks, meals, coffees, cocktails and a lot of whiskey highballs.

It had been nearly a year since us four were last able to all hang together, and we quickly fell into our old bits and banter, teasing one another over mannerisms and oddities. There’s something comforting about old friendships that require little maintenance but don’t seem to tarnish in time. And with our group it was easy to pair off for an activity, lay back to rest, or sneak off early in the morning. The plans were there, and all-plays encouraged, but the plans were flexible if one wanted to do something else. Tokyo offers much and with our limited time there were few moments of inactivity. Even breathers at the AirBNB in Shinjuku we filled with drinking games or impromptu snack reviews from the latest convenience store haul.

What I treasure about this group is our support of one another. We’re all four in similar, but diverging places in our careers and in our lives. Its been invaluable trading notes, sharing ideas, and rooting from the sidelines for each other. There’s naturally a competitive nature to it too. By the time we made it to Niseko, Owen insisted he was the fastest skier of our group. Even as we grew apart, literally geographically, but also personally — some of us engaged, some with mortgages, others not so — we were still able to gather in a place as foreign as Tokyo and be gaijins together.

Late into our last evening, after a full day of skiing and night of drinking, the conversation paused. It was nearing last call and tomorrow we had almost twenty seven hours of travel back to SFO from Niseko. I thought weariness was taking hold. And maybe a little anxiety about the travel to come. Soon the silence was filled with an accusation.

I had opted out of the last few boys trips, I had been disengaged in the group chat, and flippant during the travels. I was blindsided but not surprised. I was the interloper to the group. Busy with my work, busy with my interests and my wants: I had deprioritized these relationships. I thought nothing of it as it happened, insidiously slow that it did. In fact, I had thought that our coming together now after many months as proof of their durability. But were these relationships more impermanent than I thought?

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I loved the calligraphy exhibit; I can appreciate the pauses and holds of a tea ceremony. But relationships have no space for emptiness. My travel in Japan was delightful, yet I am an outsider to the island. There is much to do now that I’m home and idle hands are the devil’s workshop. After my to dos are done, I should use my free time to solve what I’m glad are not unspoken tensions. It need not be said we grow apart, but it need not be encouraged either. We should hold on to ephemeral while we can.

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For more pictures, check out Colin’s Flickr, he’s a phenomenal photographer.