yesterday's logbook, I feel like a big cry-baby whiner. But today,
I feel much better--despite the fact that I have been unable to leave on
the day I intended to.
That's right. The launch has been
postponed. The countdown has been suspended, but NOT cancelled.
In other words, I won't be leaving today as planned, but tomorrow
Here are the basics of what happened:
- I made arrangements to sell most of
my stuff. The buyer didn't show on the 3rd as expected.
- I still had a lot of stuff to deal
with in my apartment, sorting what to take, etc.
- I had VERY little sleep the night of
- My apartment still needed cleaning,
which is tough to do well when it's dark.
So I found my start time getting later
and later, and realized that I wouldn't be reaching my first day's
walking goal, and finally I decided it's better to go off fully-cocked
and a day late.
are some feelings I have about this:
- Naturally, I'm embarrassed. A
lot of people were probably thinking about me today, worrying about
me walking in the rain. (The rain wouldn't have bothered me,
really. I was out in it for part of the day anyway.) But
I have to remember to use my common sense, and not let "what
other people think" influence me unduly. [I later learned
that a delegation of four former students came to my launch point at
6 a.m. to see me off! Now that's embarrassing.]
- I am relieved that I have time to do
this right, finishing my preparation properly, leaving behind some
things that I just didn't need, etc.
- I am grateful that my friend said I
could use his empty apartment in Nippori. The water, power,
and gas in mine have been turned off.
- I am sympathetic to other pilgrims.
I have often read in their accounts, "Another late start"
and I always wondered why. This is good for my practice of
compassion. [Oy, was that to become a familiar
- I am amused by the
"spiritual" implications of this. I couldn't get off
on my trek because I simply owned too much stuff. It
reminds me of Tracy Chapman singing about being buried with a
"mountain of things." When you're walking, when
everything you "own" is on your back, you really can't
take it with you!
- I am humbled to have to admit my
"failure" and to have to ask others for help, etc.
But this is one of the main points of the henro's (pilgrim's)
experience: to learn that failure isn't failure (and that success
isn't success) but simply that what happens, happens. Short of
violating the laws of space and time, there wasn't much I could do.
I am living the Japanese expression "Shoganai" roughly
translated: "it can't be helped," or "What can you
do?" It's a good lesson for me.
So what do you think about my
decision? What would you have done? I'd like to hear from
you. (Besides, it would prove that someone's reading this!)
So there's not much else to say.
I'm tidying up the details, and can push off properly early tomorrow
morning: Wednesday the 5th.