Later

Back at my apartment from my walk in the park, I begin to Thích Nhất Hạnh my movements, performing every action–the pouring of water, the consumption of food, the taking off and putting on of clothes, and so on–with the greatest of care, deliberate slowness, sensing, after dropping my iPhone when removing it from my pants pocket, an absolute need to focus as completely as possible on the Now …

… passing through Ikebukuro Station, I find myself walking in the direction of a lone man in business garb (slacks, suit jacket, button shirt, tie) standing in front of an otherwise deserted bank of ticket machines as he rails, raves, screams full out at no one or everyone or phantoms (is he saying something about gaijins–foreigners?)
I note but don’t accede to an impulse to smirk as I start moving away at an angle, manage to feel some empathy, compassion for his suffering …