A band of color, the essence of a man. All it is to be, to know. Distillation of the conscious. This is not enlightenment. To abandon the flesh, to seek only consciousness and being, this can not be. Man was made mortal, man was made flesh. The kami themselves were flesh, the kami themselves took lovers, knew shame, knew glory, knew sobriety, knew drink. Were they not enlightened?
Each day finds the world expanded. Honor is a code by which men can live, but at what price? Will the rabbit teach the sparrow to fly? Can the snake teach the rabbit to run? A strange thing, to bind one to a code so closely yet to never examine it. I have discussed this, the future, the past, with my mentors. The best of them have only smiled, as if to say the very question was a delight.
Is this why the enlightened remove themselves from the world? Or is there some other reason, some darker thing. I see two great weights on the scale, I stand in the balance. One so burdened with honor the chains may drown the soul; the other so lacking he may float away on the breeze as the cherry blossom petal. Somewhere there is the answer.
On the horizon a great storm gathering. The Togashi know of such things, the dark gatherings of clouds. Yet to speak the name Kolat is to give them form. I will speak with Kage, I must meditate on this. I fear we are in the heart of some greater force that pushes on us with unseen hands.