Day 17: Meltdowns, Breakdowns, and Give Ups.
March 25, 2025
đ€ Morning Meltdown
Started the day in a rage. All of yesterdayâs chaos trickled into today, and now Iâm behind. I technically have just enough time to walk the distance I need todayâbut not enough to backtrack to Temple 32. At first I thought I could catch up quickly by checking off 32 buy car, Iâm stuck on a stupid peninsula where taxis wonât come get me. I tried calling one that was only seven minutes away, but they wouldnât cross the bridge. Out of range. So I had to walk 1 hour and 45 minutesâbackwardsâjust to get back on track.
I tried to be positive, but I was spiraling. Wrestling with that question: is this grumpy, reactive part of myself just who I am... or should I keep trying to fix it? Is it ok for me to not be a cheerful positive person? No answers yet.
The bridge I had to walk wasnât exactly pedestrian-friendly. A narrow, joke of a sidewalk. One bad gust and itâs over. Letâs go. At one point my sleeve got caught on the railing and I almost fell into 60 mph traffic. I cried tears of anger and frustration the whole way.
đ Temple 32 â My Age, My Chaos
Once I got across, I was close enough to civilization to finally get a taxi. Sweet lady picked me up, gave me fruity Mentos, and laughed at how bad my feet hurt. She told me theyâll hurt the whole time. Comforting.
Temple 32 ended up being one of my favorites. After all these mountain climbs where the view is just trees, this one finally delivered: full ocean panorama. Clear skies. I sat and meditated on what it means to be 32 years old and to be here. Everythingâs been messed up. Yesterday imploded. Today is dragging its broken body forward. Maybe thatâs life right nowâeverything a bit behind and a bit chaotic.
Jealousy. Regret. Shame. Fear. They all showed up for my 32nd temple. Cute of them.
đ„ Candle Meltdown at Temple 33
The lady at Temple 32âs office suggested I take the ferry to Temple 33. But I saw on the map it was a 20-minute drive and tried calling a cab. She warned me not to walk the bridge (lol, already did) âBridge VERY dangerous!â she said. No shit. The taxi guy who showed up was elderly and confused by my translation app. I tried not to be cranky. Eventually, he got it.
Temple 33 was... ominous. My lighter burned out completely. When I opened the box to place my candle, someone else's had just fizzled out. I decided to light mine in their spot. The second the candle hit the hot metal, it melted completelyâjust collapsed and fell through the grate. It felt symbolic. Like watching my day disintegrate in real time.
Ran into Paul. He still uses a paper map. Incredible. He didnât seem interested in me telling him how convenient the Henro app is, but it was nice to see him.
đ§ââïž Zombie Walking to Temple 35
Today was not fun. I seriously thought about quitting. I know thatâs part of "austerity," but it doesnât make it suck less.
Itâs getting hard to be friendly to people who stop me on the road. I know theyâre just trying to be kind, but Iâm sweaty and exhausted and trying not to die. I hate that I donât have the energy to be nice. I wish I were the kind of person who could smile and chat and be easygoing. But Iâm not. Not today.
Paul said itâs a short walk to 34. It wasn't. After 34, I hit a 7-Eleven and emotionally ate half the store. Strawberry cream sandwich. Cutlet sandwich (too fast to tell if it was pork or chicken). Sushi. Noodles. Teriyaki Pringles. Self-soothing through snacks.
Then came Temple 35, which required hiking straight up a concrete incline that felt like 90°. I could only use the tips of my toes. It was like climbing a ladder. Honestly? My rage helped. I used it as fuel.
đ© Breaking Down at Temple 36
By the time I got to Temple 36, it was nearly 5 p.m., and I hit my low point again. Options were:
Four-hour walk through a mountain (lol no),
Forty-five-minute walk to a bus that takes an hour,
Or just move in and live at Temple 36.
No taxis on the map. Too far out of range. And I was tired of begging monks to call one for me. Itâs embarrassing. Like they can see I didnât plan well enough or that Iâm weak. Itâs humiliating. And the fact that taxis have to come rescue me from the mountaintop feels even worse.
I got ready to begin my long public transport journey home. I was at the first temple, finishing my prayer, and trying to focus on anything good, when something nudged me to turn around.
A taxi. In the parking lot.
Not available, sadly. But the driver offered to call one for me. He was my hero. And this felt way better than having to ask the temple stamp monk. I finished my prayers, got my stamp, and 10 minutes I was on my way home.
Maybe Kobo Dashi is looking out for me.
