In a previous post, I wrote about a bucket list I’d created to honor Stephen and experience some of the adventures he did not get to do.
As a reminder, here it is:
Steve’s Bucket List
Go to Kyoto, Japan.- Fly in a powered paraglider.
- Take salsa dance classes.
- Go to a Hollywood red carpet premiere.
- Go to Galaxy’s Edge with his best man, Anthony.
Swim with whale sharks.
I’m excited to share that I can cross another major adventure off the bucket list; I recently went with my sister to Kyoto, Japan!
Unlike most of the tourists who were there to dress up in kimonos for a day and take selfies under cherry blossoms, I had much deeper spiritual intentions behind my trip. This wasn’t really a vacation as much as it was a pilgrimage. It was a journey to experience a beautiful country that my husband adored and never had the chance to visit. It was an opportunity to try to see the aspects of Japanese culture that he loved through his eyes. I was on a mission to scatter his ashes in a very special garden.
Stephen admired and practiced a plethora of Japanese spiritual and artistic traditions, many of which I’ve mentioned in other parts of my blog. He created a karesansui (dry rock) garden in our backyard in Florida, where he would frequently sit and meditate. He was a master at shinrin-yoku, popularly known as “forest bathing.” He enjoyed the art forms of ikebana (flower arranging) and kintsugi (repairing broken pottery with gold lacquer), and at times he had a compulsive desire to purchase bonsai trees when he was at the plant nursery. He frequently practiced tea ceremony as a form of contemplation; he even repurposed what was a covering for a wheelbarrow into a delightfully wabi-sabi tea hut.*
*As an aside, I am very proud that I can remember all the Japanese words for these practices! I had heard of none of them prior to meeting Stephen.
Stephen and I had planned a trip to Kyoto that tragically never came to be due to his passing. But I vividly recall that his #1 priority was going to the private residence of the famous karesansui designer, Mirei Shigemori. Stephen had several books filled with photos of dry rock gardens, and the one in the courtyard of Mirei Shigemori’s home was his absolute favorite.
When the cab driver dropped my sister and me off at the Shigemori residence, we arrived a few minutes before our scheduled time, and the doors to the courtyard were closed. I waited in eager anticipation, unsure of what I would feel when I finally laid eyes on this garden Stephen so deeply admired. When the groundskeeper propped open the doors a few minutes later, and I recognized the abundance of blue-gray rocks from the book, I immediately felt a huge rush of Stephen’s spirit whooshing out those doors.
It was a beautifully unique combination of emotions that I felt in that space: sadness, joy, relief, awe, peace, completion. (And a touch of mischief as I found an unassuming spot to scatter a very small bit of Stephen’s ashes amidst the rocks when no one was looking.) I’d made it. I’d finally arrived in this sacred space. And I’d brought a small bit of Stephen with me. I will never forget that moment. It will be one of the core memories of my life. Every time I think back to it, my eyes tear up recalling the beauty and serenity of the garden.
I lingered there as long as I could, spending a tender moment standing in the threshold, breathing in the fresh air and savoring the sunshine basking on my face. And as I reluctantly stepped away and continued on my journey through Japan, I gradually came to a profound realization.
I wasn’t here simply to honor Stephen’s love of Japan. I was here because I loved Japan.
I love sitting under a cherry tree as its blossoms gently fall around me. I love the fresh mountain air. I love the clean streets and incredible sense of safety amidst the hustle and bustle of Japanese train stations. I love meditating in a Japanese garden. I love the spiritual energy of Buddhist temples. I love My Neighbor Totoro. I love watching adorable Japanese children feeding wild rabbits on Okunoshima Island. I love watering my bonsai trees at home. I love practicing kintsugi when I break a dish. I love this country and culture not only because it connects me to Stephen; I love it because it is a culture with a lot of wisdom and beauty that I came to appreciate over my years with Stephen. I am grateful to Steve for introducing me to so many awe-inspiring facets of Japanese culture, and I am incredibly blessed to have had the chance to visit.
I felt myself blossoming during my Japanese pilgrimage. I reconnected with a part of myself that I felt more strongly when Stephen was alive, and that I want to hold onto now that I’m back home.
I want to bathe more in forests.
I want to sip tea more slowly.
I want to fully savor the beauty that lies in simplicity and imperfection.
I want to rush less and linger more.
