On travel

I travel to restore something - a sense of being my own master, perhaps (you're never your own master at home, time is at its most oppressive at home), or leisure in its purest form. My torii is my own green front door. That's where my sandō begins, that's where I start to abandon reason (and how painful that is) for intuition, and intellect for feeling, so that for a season, just a short season, I might see with the heart. 

from What Days Are For, by Robert Dessaix