Learning to enjoy the process

The draw to Japan

I wasn’t entirely sure why I wanted to go to Japan, I was just strangely drawn to it. Something in traditional Japense culture beckoned me across the ocean. Their commitment to excellence in all that they do intrigued me. I felt that this appreciation for doing the small things well is crumbling away in North American society or at the very least, I was losing it. My hope for this trip was to reawaken this mentality within me.

To be clear, I knew I wasn’t going to magically come back a master craftsman or a Buddhist Monk, rather, I just wanted to get a taste of the deep resolution held within the soul of these people. I thought the best place to look for it was in ceramics, sculpting, calligraphy, woodworking, monasteries, and of course, the architecture. While I did find that “mastery goodness” in these places, I still felt like something was lacking - But we’ll get to that later. For now, I’m going to take you on a little ride I like to call the Saul Super-Express bound for Tokyo.

Arrival

But before we begin boarding, I’d like to show you everything that I took on this 3-week long adventure. Take a look at the picture on the right, it’s just the way I like it; neat, orderly, and everything in its place. Pleasing right? Take that nice little idea, stomp on it, pick it up and throw it out the window as hard as you can. That was my first day.

I arrived in Japan with no data, no minutes, no texting, natta. Upon my arrival at the Narita International Airport after a 12 hour flight (on which I didn’t sleep), I signed onto the airport wifi to find an email from my hostel. Excited, I opened it to find a message that read:

Saul, we hope you are ok…
Since you did not arrive last night as per your booking if you don’t check in by 4 pm today we will have to cancel your reservation as per our policy.

It was 4:30 pm.

This was particularly bad because Tokyo was booked up for the New Year celebrations causing accommodation prices to skyrocket. My 5-day booking was in tatters because I (stupidly) didn’t account for the 16 hour time change ahead.

Before I could go anywhere, I needed to get a SIM card, decipher public transit and coordinate my route to the hostel before check-in closed at 9 pm (Talk about planning ahead). This gave me 4.5 hours to get my crap in order. This may seem like a lot of time, but to a stressed-out guy running on no sleep in a foreign land I can assure you it was not. Long story short, after a particularly stressful train ride I made it to the hostel in time and my booking was fine. Some might even say I nailed it. Most of us know that how you start the trip usually sets the tone for the rest of the trip. If this was how my first day went, well I was in for a bit of a rocky ride… Not to worry though, I can assure you it was only uphill from here.

Tokyo

The rest of my time in Tokyo was exceptional. I visited Shibuya crossing, the busiest crosswalk in the world, where about 2,500 people cross the street every time the light changes. I celebrated New Year’s the Japanese way, going to the temple to receive my fortune and make a wish for the new year. I also made mochi, a Japanese rice cake, which included pulverizing rice, water, and sugar with a wooden sledgehammer.

Most of my days were spent on the move, roaming the back streets. These meanderings were my favourite part of the trip. On average, I walked about 16 km a day. Every morning I would step out of my hostel and start walking in the general direction of my first destination. Breakfast and lunch would be found along the way. This way of traveling allowed me to get to know each city in a truly unique way. Wandering the back alleys and side streets led me into the quiet corners of the city which held unexpected treasures: Colourful, crooked, winding stairwells; worn out bamboo paths and washed out hiking trails; A herd of cycling young boys being yelled at by their coach from behind. It was here that I found what I was looking for in my trip.

In these quiet places, the lens through which I viewed the world began to readjust. I realized the best memories I held weren’t products of my design - They seemed to happen by themselves. Like getting lost deep within the arteries of a city and stumbling upon a massive shrub in a concrete jungle which guarded a robot cafe.

As my focus shifted, my plans did too. I spent more time in the present, appreciating what Japan decided to show me. Think back of that picture of my packed items laid out on the ground - right angles, proper spacing, symmetry. I realized that nature never has any hard 90º angles, often it follows soft, unexpected lines. This, in my mind is far more beautiful than the ordered, uniform lines I imposed on my environment. Nature sprinkled herself everywhere in these massive cities. Moss grew along the steep rock walls, vines circled the sides of buildings - and it wasn’t planned.

Now, onto the hostels. I must admit staying in these places was a unique experience in and of itself. Being in a mixed dorm room with at least 5 other strangers carried its own sense of treasures, including a wide range of sounds and smells (Here, nature felt noticeably absent). It was in these spaces that I connected with other travelers from across the globe. I met all sorts of people: Mechanics to grad students to photographers and electricians. I heard and shared a great deal of stories as I got to know my newfound friends. It was an absolute joy. This all occurred in a space smaller than your bedroom. Community was forced upon you, and was it ever great! I slept on a single mattress, on the floor or in a bunk with my fellow roommates. I was perfectly content with a small locker for my things and my compact bed. It was all I needed. The funny thing was that I didn’t miss my master bedroom at all, quite the opposite actually. I didn’t need that much space. Most of the time, I bought things I didn’t even really want just to fill it up, so it wouldn’t seem so empty. That’s how much space I had.

Following this newfound appreciation of space I also began to realize how little I needed to enjoy myself during my travels. I had four essential items in my possession: my phone to navigate and take pictures, my wallet, my passport, and my rail-pass for travel. Everything other than those four items could get stolen or lost and I would be fine. This was a surprisingly nice thought. I quickly became aware that anything I purchased would be added to the weight on my shoulders for the remainder of the trip. At that moment I understood that most items you own bring a certain weight into your life, your phone and laptop that will become obsolete, your car demands maintenance, insurance, gas, etc. Carrying everything you own on your shoulders forces you to realize what you do and do not need.

Onto the next most important piece of business, fooooood. To put it in the words of my father, who joined me for the last week of my excursion: “the Japanese seem to like all the stuff that we tend to avoid.” Like tendons, stomach, and many more unrecognizable delicacies. While it took some getting used to, I started to appreciate all of the different textures the Japanese brought into their meals. I was attracted to the little Mom & Pop shops of which there was no shortage. Most restaurants could hold about 10-15 people and if it was full you would walk to the next one a few doors down. Most days I just pointed to the menu and hoped for the best. I kind of preferred it that way. I ate anything and everything. The diet there was very different, the food was light as you mostly ate seafood, rice, and vegetables. Tea was offered more than water and usually started your meal. The food wasn’t artificially sweetened either, it had more of a natural sweetness that felt more healthy.

I was told that “Fast and slow are always simultaneously present in Japan. Keep an eye out.” I did and I was amazed with what I saw. Putting a conscious effort into this thought wherever I went taught me an important lesson: take enjoyment in the process. Things went wrong all the time on my adventure, but instead of getting frustrated and anxious from the uncertainty that came forth, I learned to embrace it. I learned to view uncertainty as the most luscious, ripe fruit that you are about to bite into, and when you are finally ready to take that massive first bite, do it with full force, like a child, letting all of the delicious juice electrify your taste buds and flow down your cheeks.

I tried to follow this lesson whenever something didn’t go as planned. Like when I walked home after a wasted $30 taxi ride to an onsen (traditional Japanese bath) tucked away in a gorgeous mountain valley. I was rejected entry into the Onsen due to my tattoo. Upon this news, my phone promptly died, and I got lost for many long, dark hours. While it was a little stressful, I saw some amazing countryside, conversed with a mountain goat, saw the city lights at night from afar, and walked 25 km. At the end of it all, my 3” thick single-mattress never felt so good. The best moments on my trip were never planned, they just happened because I was ready and open to them. I wasn’t in a rush to be anywhere or do anything, I was just enjoying the process of being there.

Taking enjoyment in the process is a discipline and requires you to force yourself to slow down (something the Japanese do very well). It is extremely rewarding. I have attempted to bring this mentality back with me to Canada. I take my time in the mornings, going through my daily ritual with care, and in a way that I can enjoy it. I am also attempting to bring this joy into my daily duties both at home and at work, reframing my mindset to take delight in the process rather than just focusing on the end result.I can wholeheartedly say that this trip changed me. It slowed me down, smiled on me, and lit me on fire. I burn on a higher level of octane than ever before and oh does it feel good. Three weeks of my life packed in an average sized backpack forced me to realize how little I need to be happy. Living in hostels in single beds made me realize how little space I needed to be comfortable. Finding a sense of enjoyment in the process has brought me de-light in parts of my life that I never could have imagined.

Domo Arigato.

Saul