Finding stillness of heart

My morning amble takes me from Nanjen-ji to Tetsugaku-no-michi (the Path of Philosophy).

I sidestep into a small craft shop and marvel at some handmade tops and jewellery while having a glass of cold water with the jovial craftsgirl herself. Many of the houses along the tourist trail sell handmade products from their doorstep. The fact that these souvenirs are unique, make them precious.

Tetsugaku-no-michi is a walking trail that follows a tree-lined canal. Along the way Japanese artists are painting the dragonflies, drooping leaves and tiled rooftops in the distance. Moms stroll here with their prams, while lovers make romantic memories which would probably be even more so in Spring, under the cherry blossoms.

Eventually I reach the sign for Honen-in temple (established in 1680) and walk through the bamboo groves to the thatched gate - which is supposed to be especially beautiful in autumn, when the maple leaves start glowing. I’m not really sure whether it’s the amount of steep stairs or the sight that took my breath away.

Just around the corner from Honen-in is Gingaku-ji Zen temple (established in 1482), one of Kyoto's 17 UNESCO World Heritage sites and a perfect crescendo to my stroll.

Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa spent his whole life building Ginkaku-ji, formally known as Higashiyama den. It is designed to capture the beauty in each season. The path through the raked and shaped sand, bonsai, ponds and villas is draped in crisp green today.

This is a place of peace and balance. I stay for a while and try to absorb as much of it as possible, until my heart becomes very still.

Seeking out some Zen

My flight from Dubai to Osaka was a nightmare, since I was in close proximity to a very hateful person. That’s the thing about aeroplanes: you can’t go anywhere and you can’t choose who you’re in there with.

Hence I decide to spend my morning in Kyoto exploring the Zen gardens and temples in Northern Higashiya. Fresh air has the ability to put me on a high, probably since I am spending so much time in planes.

After sorting out my shoe problem, I head for the old railway tracks outside Keage train station. The maple trees are a shiny green and provide some shelter from the sun.

From here I follow a windy path past the peaceful rock garden at Konchi-in temple (founded around 1400). The garden was created by master landscape designer Kobori Enshu and features a lotus pond with colourful carp that is highlighted by the clear light of this day. I follow the path to the main road and enter Nanzen-ji, an old retirement villa which Emperor Kameyama dedicated as a Zen temple in 1291.

Nanzen-ji covers a huge piece of land with all its gardens, sub-temples and shrines. I have an inside tip from one of the nicer people on the plane to follow a walking trail into the mountain beyond the Sosui aqueduct. So I leave the tourists behind and head into the woods. Ah, nature seems to absorb negativity and fill me with positive energy the same way it turns carbon dioxide into oxygen.

I reach a shrine built around a waterfall, which is what my source recommended as a magical site. Indeed the cherry red bridge, the praying Buddhists and the powerful waterfall weaves a spell that removes the dark cloud from over my head.

Encountering true kindness in Kyoto

All the travelling must be messing with my head because by the time I get to Kyoto I only have my Ugg boots and a pair of high heels in my suitcase. So much for walking around in the soupy heat…

I spot a pair of reflexology slippers at a 100 Yen shop and promptly decide that it would be heavenly to go and discover the temples and Zen gardens while having a walking foot massage.

Well, woe is me. Two hours into my day the pressure points are getting dangerously sensitive and the sun is burning down by now so going barefoot is not an option. I approach two daintily dressed Japanese ladies and use hand gestures to ask for a shoe shop in the area. Their facial expressions don’t look very encouraging. They stop a man on his bicycle to get a second opinion. He seems more positive and gestures for me to get on his bicycle.

I pass the ladies a questioning look, ‘can I trust him?’. ‘Go on,’ they beckon with bright smiles. Just a few days ago I was writing about kindness and here it is again – a helping hand when my feet need it most.

Soon I am riding a stranger’s bicycle through the little back streets of northern Higashiya in Kyoto, while he is running ahead of me in the steadily increasing heat. After about ten minutes we reach a small alley where I buy simple clogs for 1000 Yen (about $9). Not the most comfortable walking shoes, but so much better than any other option I can think of.

“Arigato,” I keep saying to the bicycle man with the dishevelled hair and the missing front tooth, "thank you".

He makes sure that I know how to find my way back to where I started and when I look again he is gone. A true act of kindness asks for nothing in return.

I walk out into the sunshine and beam my thanks out into the sky. ‘Arigato, arigato, arigato’, for my shoes, my feet and the ability to walk around this spiritual place.