You’re The Oneness Of The Land Wherever You Go

Travelling Solo has Strengthened My Inner Self

While browsing some old travel photos of Japan, I stumbled upon a picture of a giant, bronze Buddha statue, Daibutsu, sitting on large petals of lotus in the middle of an enormous hall.

The tall majestic wooden pillars support the great hall of Daibutsuden. The enormous size of the wooden architecture and the statue makes you feel like you’re thrown into another dimension, in the world where gigantic humans roam the land.

If I didn’t browse any photos to clean up the storage in my mobile, the picture you’ll see below might have never seen the light. The image hides the story that's actually greater than Daibutsu and Daibutsuden.

Travelling Solo

In late April 2019, I travelled solo to Japan. It was the time when Japan had a long holiday of the golden week. I was in absolute confusion, standing on one of the multilayer floors of Shinjuku Station in the middle of hundreds of commuters. I was trying to find a way to get to the shinkansen to Kyoto. You know what it feels like when you are in the middle of crowds, unfamiliarity often makes you feel insecure.

Suddenly I regretted my decision to travel solo to Japan for the first time. Without knowing the language, the public transport system, and I was in the wrong time of travelling where locals and international tourists crowded each corner of the station and any destination places. The constant moving crowds in my face were making me anxious that I dropped my Shinkansen ticket. I was lost, cursing my stupidity, my decision.

But then when I thought I gave it all in to see Nara that day and was on my way back to the ticketing office to book another trip to Kyoto, someone tapped my shoulder. ‘Hello. We called you many times, but you didn’t hear us. I believe this is yours,’ A lady with a glossy pink jacket said, landing me a smile and handing out a little green ticket. I was jolted with excitement and thanked her. ‘We are going to Nara and um … actually, we’re on the same train too,’ She explained while pointing out at a man and the two kids standing against the wall just around the corner of the steps. ‘Our platform is right there!’ She said.

On the way from Kyoto to Nara, the regrets of travelling solo had made me believe that it might have been the last time I did it, but soon when I got out of Nara station, the last cherry blossoms were dancing in the late spring air. The sun gently shone on my face like the touch of silk on the skin. The deers wandered free, begging for senbei, the rice crackers, from tourists. There was something about Nara that Spring was as picturesque as a Disney’s Bambi film from your childhood.

In the distance, I saw the family who found my ticket earlier as they were waving goodbye. ‘Have a lovely time in Japan!’ They said, and I could have never felt so welcome. As I saw the young family walking down further in the distance, I watched my fear and prejudice evaporate into the chilled, thin air of spring.

Under The Feet of Buddha

Nara is a small town with a population only 359, 666 as of 1 April 2019, played a significant role during Japan’s golden age of Buddhism. Nara hosts the spectacular eight temples, shrines, and ancient ruins. It isn’t hard to imagine how this town was once full of Buddhist scholars from different teachings of Buddhist schools coming to town. It was indeed the Oxford University of its era. Before entering Todaiji temple, the tall majestic Nandaimon gate will greet you, leading you to the main temple of Todaiji, Great Eastern Temple.

Here at last, inside the massive Todaiji temple, I was so small that I had to look all the way up to see the ceiling of the main hall. The giant bronze Buddha was sitting on a massive lotus pedestal. I imagined myself climbing up the lotus, touching the Buddha’s feet.

I was in torrents of regret for travelling solo. But I realised that being alone and silent most of the times gave me feasible space and time for myself in observing surrounding; people who walk on the street, Skeletal trees with falling cherry blossoms, the gentle warmth of the sun on my face, and the people I encounter.

Travelling solo strengthens your understanding of humanity, that after all, you’re not a visitor or a traveller, you are in fact a part of the earth we’re all living, and you’re the oneness of the land.

Berman, R writing for Bigthink website, in the 2016’s article ‘Why very smart people are happier alone’ writes about savanna theory of happiness. Norman P. Li and Satoshi Kanazawa from the Singapore Management University, Singapore and the London School of Economics and Political Science from the UK respectively developed a theory based on our ancestors’ need in the days when humankind lived on the savanna. Based on their theory, they argue that smart people are happier alone than when they are in the companies of others.

Brech A, writing for Stylist.Co.UK website, in her article ‘Solo travel: the mental health benefits of travelling the world alone’, she agrees that travelling solo has benefits of making new connections. She believes that you instinctively become more sociable, you develop a tendency to look outwards at those around you, and you become resilience and develop self-growth. I couldn’t agree more with her because, for the first time, I enjoyed travelling solo more than travelling with a company or in a group. Travelling solo to Japan has strengthened my inner self.

While on the other side of the realm, the annual Balinese ritual of Nyepi teaches them of self-reflection by retreating oneself in complete silence without any electricity, human and digital connections for twenty-four hours until the first sunlight. Nyepi is Bali’s religious public holiday.

As much as you find yourself in despise when organising accommodation, researching, budget plans, travel insurance, and more daily expense budget — all by yourself — travelling solo adapt you to be an organised person. The state of being alone and silence also give yourself moments to observe people and places and understand yourself better from both emotional and psychological viewpoints.

Passing Through The Buddha’s Nostril

I was standing on the cold, stone floor, watching a line of tourists trying to pass through a tiny passage on one wooden pillar. I wonder what it was about. Later I found out from the family that I met earlier, the little hole known as Buddha’s nostril believed by worshippers who could pass the gap shall be granted higher enlightenment for the next life — I nodded, though I wasn’t sure what it really meant?

In a strange place, when you travel solo, you have a better chance to meet new people. You immerse in their land beyond experiencing their culture and tradition. When you are welcome in their land, you can sense an affirmation of inclusion. You are the oneness of the land wherever you go. So why would you be a stranger?

On the way back to Kyoto, I learned that inclusion is what it takes to be human. It’s a part of humanity.