Is it toothpaste?

Point of reference: as the photo of my backyard shows, I live in a neighborhood that's heavily wooded. And because it's adjacent to a 5500-acre state park I routinely have deer wandering through my yard, hawks and other raptors overhead, and cute little tree frogs in the summer. (As I'm writing this a couple of deer are bounding across my front yard.) Nights on my back deck are dark and quiet except for the flicker of fireflies and the songs of crickets.

Since returning several friends have commented in one way or another on my delight at what was mostly an urban experience in Asia, with all the hustle-bustle and the social interaction that entails.

That seems at odds perhaps with my daily lifestyle and my affection for Ryokan's poetry, and his living alone:

It's not that I do not wish
To associate with men,
But living alone I have the better Way.
A lonely four-mat hut
All day no-one in sight.

One of my friends called me shortly after I returned and made such an observation. My response? Hmm. Another, when I commented on missing the daily interaction with people on trains and in subways and the random unexpected conversations, responded with a portion of the Taoteching, an ancient Chinese text by Lao Tse:

When people see some things as beautiful,
other things become ugly
When people see some things as good,
other things become bad
Being and non-being create each other
Difficult and easy support each other
Long and short define each other
High and low depend on each other
Before and after follow each other

Hmm. Can't argue with that. Still another sent me a link to a Forbes.com list of the ten best US cities for singles:

http://realestate.msn.com/Rentals/Articleforbes.aspx?cp-documentid=694846&GT1...

Why sent? Raleigh-Durham is number six on the list, and if it's good for singles it must also be good for socializing and for meeting people in general. Hmm.

Others said I need a change and that China is the place. Or that Japan is the place. Or New York? Ugh.

A change may or may not be called for, but part of the pleasure of Asia was that it was an urban experience of a different sort. How so? While some things there were familiar (7-11 and Starbucks), it was a chance to experience an exotic culture and meet interesting people in a relatively risk-free manner.

And then there was the toothpaste, I hoped. By the time I got to Nagaoka, the last stop on my trip in Japan, I had run out. So I found a little grocery store and an aisle with what were obviously toothbrushes and then fat plastic tubes of what I assumed was toothpaste. The puzzle-like qualities of just "getting by" meant I wasn't on auto-pilot ... the risk of brushing my teeth with denture cream seemed well worth it.