Part 2 - When Shinto Meets Shakespeare

I noticed that Hiroko Yoda’s animism had an uplifting energy, a hearty insistence upon the elevation of the spirit(s)… it showed up in the body, a kind of repeated upwards motion.

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Unfortunate from the perspective of following through, I no longer feel like discussing Daniel Hahn and his translator's imagination. If you're curious about what happens to Shakespearean stanzas when transformed into the relatively long words of Finnish, you can read his latest book.

[Draft Piece]

Friday, 1st May 2026 -

When you wake up before everybody else does, your coffee options are limited. Walking down the main drag of Katoomba, I found myself with nary a soul to peer at through the glass windows of the cafés... they were all shut. But thankfully, the woman stationed at the entrance to the train stop provided me with my first double shot of caffeine for the day, and guided me to a nearby hotel open at this hour. Here I lounged about on Victorian style furniture, sipped a flat white, and made conversation with the woman on the morning shift. 

We had just concluded that Katoomba was fabulous, when she inquired, "Have you been to Blackheath?"

I had never even heard of it, but now I was all ears. "No?"

In her high pitched voice, (for the culture in the Blue Mountains seems to be that the voices are higher for women, and lower for men… compared to Sydney, that is,) she shared that this village was awash with beautiful autumn foliage, and had a vibe of its own. It was just two train stops away. I made the impulsive decision to get onboard the train when peak hour was over, and see what I could find. 

But before that, it was time for a coffee, and I knew just the place. 

The Yellow Deli was just waking up at 7:30am-ish, but before I reached it I was approached by a couple of Jehovah's Witnesses, who turned out to be based in Blackheath itself. What a co-incidence! Or, perhaps, evidence of the small world of the Blue Mountains. They volunteered that Wentworth Street was the place to go for the sensational natural phenomenon, and added their home street was also lovely. I made notes. A plan was taking shape. 

Over my final double shot, I was gifted with a small map of Blackheath by the waiter I told about my plans. He seemed to be 

When Shinto Meets Shakespeare

I had the pleasure of attending two sessions of the Sydney Writers' Festival in the last five days.

The first session was an interview with Daniel Hahn, who wrote 'If this be magic: the unlikely art of Shakespeare in translation', and the second was a panel involving Hiroko Yoda, who wrote '8 million ways to happiness', Paul Callaghan, who wrote 'Leading from the dreaming' and Brigid Delaney, who wrote 'The seeker and the sage'.

The most resonant moment of the festival was listening to Paul talk about the Indigenous Australian concept of The Flow. Instead of being caught up in abstracted and ineffectual reasoning, such as deliberating over possible options for travel this year (if you're me), tuning into The Flow necessitates listening to your body and tuning in to your gut instinct. This was wisdom I could directly apply to my life: I was in dire need of someone telling me not to take my endless mental chatter so seriously and take a look at what is intuitively apparent. 

In 2026 I mused over potential travel experiences to the point of frustration. I was confused. I was annoyed. But I will begin afresh, with the question: "Where do I want to be right now?" Today I feel like being in my apartment in Sydney. There's no need for escape. I have everything I need. 

There might come a time when the answer to the question, "Where do I want to be today?" will change, and then, and only then, will I do something about it. 3.5 weeks ago, I felt like going to the Blue Mountains for a week or less, and I acted upon that wish, with great results. A short break, only 2 hours away, had sufficient restorative impact. 

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The pantheist ways of Japanese spirituality were conveyed by Hiroko Yoda, whose reawakening to Shinto following the unfortunate loss of her parents inspired her to be thankful for the life around her. According to the religion, everything that can be conceived of, whether it's the sun, a tree, or a toothache, has a spirit. She finds spiritual meaning throughout her day, in moments mundane or dramatic. I imagine Hiroko would say that even the consumption of lunch can be a source of wonder. It's about energy, or the presence of life force, in every bite. For her, the number of '8 million' (ways to happiness) is just an example of how it's possible to conceptualise of them: in reality the spirits (kami in Japanese) are infinite. 

There is another dimension to pantheism in Shinto, namely the mutually approving relationship between it and Japan's other dominant religion, Buddhism. Practitioners of the two regularly visit each other's temples or shrines to pray. The only belief you need to hold to pay your respects in a temple or shrine is respect for the host religion. The foundation of respect allows you to recognise the emotional resonance and philosophical relevance of another religion in your life. 

Now, I am not religious, but I do think there is a generosity there which non-Japanese can learn from. 

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[I think I'll discuss Daniel Hahn and his book in a Part 2.]