CAKE | 16 — Decisions were made

Most of the time I feel like my life is way too strenuous. I cannot help but think that things shouldn't be so hard. There should be more ease. Like the feeling when a heavy door opens effortlessly. Or when a train I need to take arrives just as I am stepping onto the platform. Instead again and again I pull at doors that say push and arrive panting at the station only to realize that the train has been cancelled. I despair of the world. And yet I don't surrender. For whatever reason I keep on giving my best. Doing things I suppose I simply have to do. Doing what feels right. Sometimes I do these things slowly. Barely even palpable to myself. It's only in sudden moments of quiet introspection that I realize I am moving forward but they are usually over before I can even formulate a question. 

This one thing began with a photo of a mountain range. No, actually it originated with a short hike I had not planned. Whatever the forest effused that day, it stuck with me and I wanted more. Come to think of it, it began even earlier. On a gray day in December and in a moment of utter desperation. I was disillusioned with my job and marriage, pining to get as far away from home as possible, when on a whim I finally booked that flight to a country I have longed to visit but for a plethora of reasons never had. And with one click I made a decision without any knowledge of where it would lead me – or how I would even get around there. But that's not a story I can tell today; I have not been able to connect all the plot lines just yet. It's still a work in progress and the trip resulting from that one photo is only one of its chapters. And so for the following months, long after that one incalculable click I began taking the steps necessary to walk the distance of 15k and hike up a mountain in the middle of nowhere to go and see for myself. All the while not having a clear grasp of how to do it. I just knew that I wanted to, though to this day I can't even say why.
First I bought a pair of hiking boots. Brown leather ones with red laces and enough ankle support so to withstand some rough terrain. I invested in a decent rain jacket with a deep hood because I didn't dare to underestimate Japan's rainy season. I found an amazing GPS app that let me download individual maps onto my cell phone and would track the distance, the elevation and my speed. And just to be safe I purchased a map in Japanese with every trail in the area. I got an insulated water bottle and hiking sticks. And then I packed my bags. Nevertheless upon departure I still didn't know whether I was actually going to do it. It seemed totally probable that I would return with unworn boots in my suitcase. After all I was travelling alone; nobody needed to know that I had backed out. Despite my meticulous plans, it all seemed intangible. So nebulous. There were so many reasons speaking against it. It could rain or be too cloudy. I only had a short window of days I could do it on. I could miss just one of the various train and bus connections from Tokyo to the village and start out too late, still walking in the forest after sunset. I could trip and hurt myself with no help near. I could ruin the rest of my vacation with a broken ankle or leg. I could get attacked by a bear or stung by an Asian hornet. Or be assaulted by a man (though that is unfortunately always a possibility anywhere). I could miss the last train out. I could get stuck on the mountain at night. Or end up in a tiny village with the stores closed and not a single hotel room near. Nobody knew where exactly I was. I could get lost. I could surprise myself. 

Most of the decisions we make have clear results or a foreseeable effect – the consequential as much as the inconsequential ones. What to wear or to study, whom to marry, what book to read or where to go for tacos, where to apply for a job and when to have that baby. Some decisions we refuse to make. Some of them we make out of spite. Some are made for us – knowingly or not. Try not to make those by the way, no matter how big or small they may be. One way or another making decisions for others will always end in pain and regret. Ultimately you will be resented for taking away somebody's agency. The best decisions derive from aspirations – no matter how vague. We make them and we don't know what they will bring about. They bear a potential that is impossible to grasp at the very beginning. Just a flicker of an idea. A distant hope, really. With no clear path to follow. Those are precious. And their first step is the most difficult to take. After all there's zero visibility. You don’t know what’s coming. But once you make that decision the universe does actually conspire to make it happen. And no, it is not easy. Nothing worth anything is. It is confounding, exasperating, seemingly futile, it is hard. You don't know where you're going. But you keep on walking. And somehow you end up opening the right door. It might creak slightly and the handle might be a bit loose but it grants you a magnificent view. One step at a time you will have arrived at the place you wanted to see all along. Amazed at yourself and everything that had to happen in order to lead you here. You dared to stick with it – against all reason. Some said it couldn't be done. A few even laughed at you. Some scoffed at the idea and thought it wasn't for you. Turns out it was. It just took you a while to get here. For the road had unexpected twists.

I arrived home with a muddy pair of boots that summer. That hike turned out to be one of the most invigorating experiences I have ever had. A memory so intense I still feed on it, especially these days. It was arduous and it was perfect. I don't know yet what this trip will ultimately guide me towards. What it will have fueled in the end. But all that pushing and pulling and gasping for air, all the pain will have been worth it. I hope.