Goodbye, Mount Fuji! — Thank You for Disappointing Me
How nature has taught me one of life’s most valuable lessons
I didn’t get my perfect shot.
It’s my last day at Heda. Tonight I’ll ride the seven-hour bus journey from Numazu to Osaka, and from there, I’ll travel back home to the Philippines.
After seeing a photo of Mt. Fuji taken on top of a hill, a colossal figure that seems out of reach and yet very engulfing, I knew I have to see it in person. So, it launched this journey of the unknown and self-discovery as I decided to take my first solo international trip to Japan.
In search of a quiet place
I was not in the mood to see Japan’s famous bustling cities, and so I skipped Tokyo, Osaka, Kyoto, and the likes. Instead, I chose the quiet town of Heda, Shizuoka to spend time knowing Japan and myself.
As the famous travel writer Pico Iyer said, “In an age of speed, I began to think, nothing could be more invigorating than going slow. In an age of distraction, nothing can feel more luxurious than paying attention. And in an age of constant movement, nothing is more urgent than sitting still.”
Heda, with its solemn harbor, tucked away inside an almost closed cove is an epitome of a calm meditation to the secrets of life.
The Suruga Bay that widens outside Heda port is the deepest bay in Japan. Its amazing biodiversity is famous as the main fishing ground for the spider crabs, named after their long legs, up to a leg span of 3 to 4 meters. Scattered in the port are restaurants serving the crabs as a delicacy.
Heda’s main attraction, Mihama Misaki Park, is a narrow long accumulation of sand and gravel in the form of a “spit”. The landform has some resemblance with a long beak of a bird, created when gravel and fine sand get washed in by the waves and accumulate in the quiet spit.
Walking around the park is like going back in time as some of the trees found there are over 100 years old. Facing the bay and overlooking Mt. Fuji is a lighthouse perched on a wide collection of rocks. It holds out the waves from reaching the inner part of the cape, and on the other side is a beach.
It was almost the end of autumn and nobody was swimming, although I saw a lot of locals along with their rods fishing in silence.
The great Mt. Fuji
I was staying at Tagore Harbor Hostel, located further inside the peninsula.
Almost every day before the sun went down, I would ride a bike to sit by the harbor, watch the sunset at Mt. Fuji, and admire the striking symmetry that made it a well-known symbol of Japan.
I would see the sky turn into different shades of orange and yellow before the stars had sprinkled themselves on a black cosmic canvas. I would feel the wind get colder and colder at every passing minute.
Many a time, I tried to take photos hoping to capture Mt. Fuji at its grandest — no clouds, clear silhouette, and popping colors created by the time of the day.
Unfortunately, Mt. Fuji disappointed me as at all times — either the clouds are covering parts of it, or by the time they pass, it is too dark already, and I’ve lost all the colors.
It’s my last day, and even until now, I still couldn’t get my perfect shot.
Since I really couldn’t do anything to move the damn clouds, I decided to just sit down and marvel at Mt. Fuji, allow it to envelope me with its enchanting mystery and calming serenity.
Not long, I found myself talking to it. I thanked it for bringing me here to Japan and allowing me to experience all the wonders I had during my stay.
Then, as if it knew I was going to leave soon, it answered me in the most mystical way, leaving me with a parting gift.
The lesson Mt. Fuji taught me
No matter the circumstances, Mt. Fuji will be great because it is Mt. Fuji. Its quality only changed depending on the perception of whoever’s looking at it. Behind those clouds, it remains the same– it is majestic and beautiful no matter what other people see. Thus, it taught me a great lesson.
Sometimes we had to disappoint people as no one can please everyone, and the effect is devastating on the way we see ourselves.
We think we lack something, and we start to doubt who we are. But the truth is, just because people think we are not beautiful enough, strong enough, thin enough, or clever enough, it doesn’t mean we’re less than who we are.
We are not their expectations, and it is not our duty to fulfill them. Because in the end, behind our imperfections, we are who we are, who we think we are, no matter what other people say.
To conclude
Nature is full of life, and if we open our hearts to its wonders, we can find its secrets waiting for us to discover. These secrets are treasures — a lot more valuable than any material thing in the world. It allows us to live our lives in full and with meaning.
I guess an imperfect shot isn’t that bad after all.
Thank you for reading.
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