A sizeable part of adulting — in my limited experience of it — is compromise. I actually think I’m putting it a little too nicely here. It’s actually giving up what you want for what others want.
I am in no way complaining, in case that’s what you think this is. Seeing my family happy makes me happy, and I’m completely content with that outcome.
I just mean that although I have been in charge of designing each day’s itinerary for the group, a majority of the items on the list are not things that I would do by choice.
Given that I’m staying in Japan much longer than most of the others, though, it only seems fair to let them make the most of their time here and for me to later do as I like.
Sometimes, this means spending more than I’d like to on things I don’t value as much. Other times, it’s giving up sleep because there’s just so much to do, or spending hours on trains and buses against your will, day in and day out.
Today, among other things, it was facing fears.
The plan was to complete the Hakone Loop — a trail along some of Hakone’s best sights, using multiple modes of transport.
After a couple more train rides than expected (we accidentally took off in the wrong direction first and lost an hour in recovery, but things like that are a new normal for us) and then a cable car, we found ourselves in line for a ropeway.
One thing you should know about me is that I’m terrified of heights.
Last year on vacation in Switzerland, my brother and parents missed out on taking a ropeway up a mountain in Lungern because I refused to go and my mom refused to go without me.
Back then, it was only a mountain peak that we missed. This time, the stakes were volcanic sulphur springs, a view of Mount Fuji and the rest of the Hakone Loop. I caved.
I survived too, as you can tell by the fact that I’m writing this very post.
The sulfur springs at Owakudani were great, and although it’s the first time in 130 years that it hasn’t snowed on Mt Fuji this late in the year, the faint silhouette of it that we saw amidst the clouds was a magnificent view.
We took another ropeway down from there and then it was time to step outside of my comfort zone in a different way.
I wouldn’t call it a phobia or anything but I simply don’t love the idea of being on a vessel at sea. Earlier this year I agreed to take the ferry to Belfast with a friend in England, instantly regretted it and was massively relieved when she realized she didn’t have time to actually go.
Lake Ashi was waiting for us though, and I didn’t want to create a scene. Before I knew it, I was on the Queen Ashinoko. Once the cruise began, I felt nothing but joy (and cold). It was only a matter of stepping on to the ship, and I’m glad that I did.
I thought I was doing it for my family, but I now realise that it did me more good than them.
People are rarely rational in the face of fear, so I won’t resolve to always confront my own (don’t look at me like that, *cough* rollercoasters *cough*).
I’m just glad that I did today, and I hope that I can at least remember this day the next time I am about to miss out on another unforgettable experience.
That being said, personal growth isn’t a straight road — it’s more like the meandering mountain roads we found ourselves stuck on during the long bus ride back. What should have been a smooth return turned into an exhausting crawl through traffic, complete with a loudly upset baby nearby. Fatigue was setting in, and I could feel myself slipping into that all-too-familiar frustration, ready to start assigning blame for things that, realistically, no one had control over.
But then, I caught myself. This wasn’t anyone’s fault. Sure, one of us had decided to take this bus instead of the express, but we didn’t know any better. Things don’t always happen in the easiest way possible, and getting worked up about it wouldn’t get us home any faster. So, I let it go. Progress isn’t always obvious, and it sure isn’t linear, but it sure is happening.