“Sumimasen (Excuse me),” Cole bows his head apologetically and began to walk silently through the temple toward the entrance hall where he and his fellow residents would greet guests of all sorts.

Cole has been a resident of the temple for the last year, studying and practicing the art of silence. Over a year ago, he was nearly convinced to take his own life after his panic attacks had become so frequent that it was intruding on his daily work at the hospital. The tip of the iceberg was his girlfriend, Stella, who kept threatening to take away his possessions if he didn’t do what she wanted.

Cole had just about enough. No one care about me, he thought bitterly as he was standing on the ledge of the hospital roof, looking down. He didn’t want to take his own life, he realized that there was so much more to live for, but how could he live when he kept having these panic attacks?

He needed peace, he knew, and immediately knew where he would go. Of all the people, he heard of this place in Japan from his brother, Robert, who frequently travel to Japan on business trips. “There’s this trip where people go practice the art of silence.”

That very night, with only the backpack he carried to work, Cole boarded a plane bounded for Tokyo. From there, he continued to the temple with buses and trains. He didn’t understand Japanese but when he reached the temple nearly a week ago, with one look at him, he was accepted as a resident.

Now, Cole enters the entrance hall. Among the groups of elderly guests removing their shoes is the one person he’s been dreading to see – his girlfriend. “What are you doing here?” He asks in a low tone as she saunters up to him.

“Taking you home.”

“Why? I’m happy here.” Cole replies, running his hand through his bald head. When he became resident, he had his head shaved, as a form of allegiance. Before then, he had a thick head of blond locks, which he now misses. His girlfriend stands there, staring at him, “I’m sorry you’ve come all this way but you’ve wasted your time, I’m not coming home. My journey isn’t done here.”

“Cole, you must come home,” she pleads, “I’ve come to take you home, whatever it takes, even if I have to drug you and drag your sorry ass across Japan onto a plane.”

A smile spreads across Cole’s face, “Good luck with that.”

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