Muddy Acceptance

Dear Family and Friends,

Whatever you think about Japan is true — and so is its opposite. In one situation something can be completely accepted, yet in another looked up with distain. People can be very generous with their thoughts and behavior, or viciously petty and small. I try to focus on the aspect that uplifts, using that as a guide. I am not always successful. But the positive dynamics of human relations here can be very helpful for me.

A good example was on a hike I went on last week. There were eight of us. We are all older, but “genki” enough to happily climb mountains. That day we arrived at our meeting place in appropriate gear. That is, except for one of the ladies. She came wearing sneakers. As soon as she saw the rest of us, she said, “I have not gone hiking in a long time, so I forgot what shoes I should wear.”

In Japan, saving face is of prime importance. Face is what people use to define themselves and to regulate their behavior. “What others think of me is who I am.” That is why shame is far more important than guilt. If guilt in a Western sense is part of Japanese psyche at all. 

Hatto San was part of our group, so there was a protective sense towards her. No one wanted her to lose face. So, immediately everyone started reassuring her. “Don’t worry. You will be fine. And besides, there are six strong men to help you up the mountain if you need it.”

What impressed me was that everyone lent her support. No one criticized her in any way. No one said, “You should not have worn those shoes” or “What a foolish thing to have done.” They simply assessed the situation and accepted it. “We will cope with what comes” was the unspoken agreement.

And sure enough, because of days of rain, the slope was not only very muddy, it was also covered in wet leaves. 

Plus, in some places the trail was so steep, the only way up it was by yanking on well-placed ropes. Even those of us with hiking boots had a hard time. But Hatto San was in real trouble. 

Again, no one complained or criticized her. Instead, the leader of the group put one climber in the front. Then he went to the back to be next to Hatto San. Without a word, another man joined him, allowing Hatto San to be sandwiched between them.

The other five of us went ahead at our own pace, periodically waiting for the struggling three to catch up. Sometimes we had to wait as much as fifteen or twenty minutes. 

Again, not a word of complaint. Instead, people talked about the flowers or mushrooms along the trail, 

about the beautiful mist, or briefly commenting on the incredible heat and humidity.

In the future, if they talk about today at all, they will probably laugh and said, “Wasn’t that a muddy hike? Poor Hatto San. It must have been so hard for her. But she got through it. We admire her fortitude.”

And indeed, somehow

, we all did make it safely back to the start of the trail. All of us were covered in mud. But we laughed about it. “We are heading to the Nikka Whisky factory from here. Won’t they be surprised to see such filthy people!”

They weren’t. They, too, just accepted it. 

Hatto San immediately headed to the Ladies’ room to freshen up. The men headed to the bar. 

And all of us agreed it was a perfect ending to a challenging, but very successful day.

Love, Anne