I found myself in the middle of a Japanese forest in Nara with no plan and the usual path up Mount Wakakusa was closed for the winter season. I had all but resigned myself to accept I may not get to the top.
I suddenly had a few hours left before I would head back to Kyoto and relax after a full day of walking and taking pictures. While looking at the map, I found I was not too far from a place called Kasugayama Primeval Forest. I picked a direction and started walking in hopes I would find something interesting along the way.
The path wound up a hill that felt steep but was well manicured. It was empty of people or tourists and was wide enough for a vehicle. On either side of the road was a dense Japanese forest that overtook the small streams that cascaded down the greenery that covered the hills. Rest stops provided a much-needed respite to catch my breath and enjoy the peace. I would sit on a bench, alone and in thought while I listened to the water flow past me.
I had lost all sense of direction at this point and I was wandering up a tough hill lost in thought. I had only a vague point on the map that I was shooting for and a goal that I would snag an incredible photo.
The quiet of the air was often interrupted by the birds chattering in the trees. My train of thought interrupted by a herd of deer looking to pawn some food off me. I passed them quietly and softly said “I’m sorry, but I shouldn’t feed you granola bar.”
I was far from the tourist path, and there were no stalls selling cookies for the deer to eat up here.
When I finally reached the end of the path I was walking, I realized I had come much further than I anticipated. I had gone in the right direction but had been so lost in thought that I had not realized I was only a few metres from the top of Mount Wakakusa.
I was greeted by a welcome sign of washrooms and vending machines filled with soda and cold coffee.
I found a path and followed it to the top of the mountain.
There was a herd of deer harassing a young family that dared to bring a picnic. The deer hovered around them waiting for any scrap of food. After a deer had managed to snatch some chips off the family, they packed everything up and tried to shoo them away.
It was them who started to run instead.
I focused once again on my task and looked for my shot. I trudged up to the top of the mountain and found a lookout.
Although the sun was beginning to disappear in a storm, it still peaked out from the clouds sending rays of light shooting down to the ground. The wind had picked up as well and was trying to prompt me to leave. I was pelted by rain but could sense my goal was near.
I could taste that photo, but I did not want to miss my moment.
I kept shooting and, in the end, I probably shot near 200 photos from the top of that mountain.
My walk back was a somber tone. I thought I would be happy, ecstatic that I had achieved everything I wanted to do that day. At the back of my head I could feel a nagging itch that God needed me to pray.
I felt a deep sense that I was there for a reason, but it still eluded me.
As I tread over a now familiar path I kept praying and I ignored the scenery around me. The birdsong, the waterfalls, and the leaves rustling in the calm woods. It all fell away.
While I walked, I had a fundamental realization that became overpowering. It was suddenly apparent that I was here on this hill because God needed me to calm the thoughts rattling around in my head and focus. I was there because I needed to walk a tough path up a mountain that I did not know I was climbing. A literal act that became a metaphor.
I reached my goal by faith alone and I trusted that the direction I headed was the right one. I may have had a vague sense of the destination, but I never would have dreamed that the destination would be enlightening.
A deep feeling of regret and lost time filled me. I could sense there was someone who I needed to forgive, someone who had hurt me.
A month before I left for Japan, I experienced being triggered for the first time. At the time I could not explain why my body reacted the way it did, but I was shaking uncontrollably and on the verge of tears. Anger was boiling deep inside my heart that I could not control, and all my patience had flown out the window.
While reflecting a few days later, I realized that it was the manipulation I felt in the moment that was the likely culprit of my visceral reaction to that conversation.
I will not go into detail about who hurt me and why because the only pertinent information is I suffered years of manipulation, negativity, and disrespect. Over the years that followed I dragged myself out of the dredges of that despair and found a new sense of identity and purpose, separate from the person who seemed content to put me down.
My time walking down Mount Wakakusa was the moment of peace I needed to understand that I tried to do all that healing alone, separate from God. It was not until my darkest moments in that journey that I went to God for help.
I will tell you now, that in my experience, I cannot achieve true forgiveness outside of God.
I spent numerous years of my life hating the person that hurt me because I felt that if I forgave them, I would forget what they did to me and fall into that trap once again. I felt that I would suddenly be forced to be friends again. Trapped in a perpetual cycle of emotional violence that I would have trouble escaping.
The truth is that God talked to me in those woods, and that this mixture of travel, time, and thought was the reason I needed to be in Japan.
Forgiveness is only the first step and I had refused to cross that boundry. I had not soaked in the truth that I was beginning to feel over the course of my travels. Life is too short and too beautiful to let it pass me by in a cloud of hate.
People will make mistakes, and people will let you down, and it is okay.
I will make mistakes and let people down, and it is okay.
I will make mistakes and I will let myself down, and it is okay.
I felt at that moment that I had a choice to make, continue to hate and fuel those feelings, or I could let it all go and begin to heal. If I chose the latter option, I felt that I needed to say it out loud and announce it to the world that I forgive them, and I did.
There is no better place to forgive than a secluded Japanese forest on an incredible day of discovery. So, I looked at the swaying canopy of the trees and said out loud ‘I forgive them for what they did to me.’
It was then I crouched down onto the stone pebbles of the pathway and sobbed like a small child. It was the most visceral and immediate reaction I have ever had while praying.
I remained that way for a few moments to regain my composure and began to walk again, praying ‘thank you’ out loud.
However, I could not help but feel that forgiveness was only the first step. My fear that I would fall into that trap again was easily mitigated. I could walk this path with God and know that I would not be alone.
The last truth that came to me was that forgiveness just means that past indiscretions are wiped clean from your heart. The future is still mine to shape and that means boundaries and emotional awareness will be key going forward.
God helped me over the last few years to build an emotional awareness that I find valuable. It is a key marker that I can now acknowledge when my anxiety rises, and if I have a problem I need confront. Through prayer, walks lost in thought, and talking to my friends I can then pinpoint what I am feeling and attempt to negotiate any truths that arise.
Holding on to hate only serves to help the perpetrator maintain control over me and I need to let go and free myself from that burden.
I will forgive and establish boundaries through faith.
The best part is I came to this realization in a secluded Japanese Forest that will forever remain special to me.