Ode For Jack When I got to Kyoto, you honored me with a feast, and the Maiko, apprentice geisha, who danced for us in a way so that you could sense hundreds of years embedded in the display, ancientness present in the moment, the tears and joys of a civilization condensed into movement that was simple yet conveyed genuine vastness and wisdom. It was your world I found myself in those days, your Shambhala household of ordinary magic, which it undeniably was, vivid, splendid and yet mundane, as if every day could be heaven on earth. That’s what I saw and knew when I was there, the true meaning of being a warrior, not to conquer or control, simply to be open and brave enough to see things as they are and act accordingly with kindness knowing we are all together in this floating world we share for an ephemeral spark of time.