For many years I’ve dreamt of getting really close to Mount Fuji. Not so close as to touch it but close.
You know that PC desktop wallpaper with the fields of purple flowers, azure sky kissing Mount Fuji’s snowy peak? I wanted to stand among those flowers, feeling Fuji’s full magnitude pulsing gently before me. Some years ago, when I first traveled to Japan, I may have passed Fuji by bullet train but I can’t quite recall.
When I returned to Japan about 3 weeks ago, thoughts of realizing my dream surfaced. But…somehow I haven’t gone. Something is telling me to leave Mount Fuji where it is. Perhaps I’m worried that actually being there might not live up to the image I’ve created. Like the disappointment of meeting one of your heros. I felt this last weekend when recreating Scarlett Johansson’s walk across the Shibuya Scramble Crossing – it was much better when she did it.
Maybe I’m also not feeling the need to go to Mount Fuji because she’s doing such a good job of coming to me. Like my room in the Tokyo apartment I’m staying at, the walls are decorated with Mount Fuji postcards, fans and framed pictures. And at the public bathhouse a couple of days ago, where a huge photo of the beloved volcano covered nearly an entire wall in the hot tub room. And most recently, when I spotted a pair of silk Fuji boxer shorts in a clothing store – seriously considering breaking my 2 pairs of underwear rule to get those.
I know what you’re thinking, I’m just rationalizing being too lazy to get on a train and go and see Mount Fuji for myself. Very possibly. But for now, I’m relishing our relationship as it is, one of sweet anticipation and respectful distance. So for now, Fuji can wait.