Vitality Stories

Growing In Tokyo – Day Three

All aboard

Steps Taken: 10,834
Day Three (Day One, Day Two)

Today was the day. The day to brave the Tokyo Metro, or subway, comprised of 9 lines, 184 stops, and with an annual ridership of ~3.217 billion in 2014.

3.217 billion! For the sake of comparison, New York City’s subway had a ridership of 1.751 billion in 2014. ~GULP~

Yet, after two full days of walking, our back and feet weren’t up to taking 20k steps on Day 3, so we found the nearest entrance to the Ginza Line which has been running beneath the streets of Tokyo since 1927. Our destination was the Senso-Ji Temple and Nakamise-dori shopping street in Asakusa, northeast Tokyo.

We decided to wait until 10:00 a.m. to avoid peak commuting times. As it turned out common sense, rather than bravery, was all that was required. The Tokyo Metro was a breeze.

Purchasing the correct fare for the ride was self-explanatory and only a lobotomy would have kept me from boarding the right train and departing at the right stop. Not only is there a digital display in English, it constantly updates to show you which station number you are at, which number you will get off at, which direction you are headed, and which car you are sitting in. Now you are here, station G6, and you are going there (G19) in thirteen stops, twelve, eleven, ten…and did I mention the last possible stop of the Ginza Line was our destination? Even if communication or the process wasn’t foolproof, we would have reached Asakusa.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So we sat down in spotless seats in an immaculate car with bright lights. Since passengers are not allowed to talk on cell phones, the journey was quiet and calm.  Every now and then I’d catch movement out of the corner of my eye but it was simply someone waking from a short nap or looking up from their smartphone—subway rides would be the only time I would see people looking at their smartphones and I’d constantly witness power naps (even in standing positions).

Two stops into our ride, an employee dashed in, plopped down a step stool, climbed up and  swapped colorful, cartoon-like advertisements hanging neatly from ceiling clips and then, just like that, he was gone. Uniformed guards on the platform, stationed before each sliding door, would yell in unison–what I guessed translated to a cautionary stand back for safety–while slowly waving their arms from knees to shoulder, shoulder to knees.

DING, DING, DING and the doors closed. All was in order.

 

Relax, we’ve got it covered

As I was beginning to notice with all things Tokyo, the Japanese have perfected the balance between process, communication, anticipation, intuition, infrastructure, and human behavior.

My first positive experience was when I arrived at the Narita International Airport where finding and getting on our bus to the hotel was effortless. The process was clear: buy a ticket at the counter outside of customs; follow the signs from “You Are Here” to curbside #11; hand your bus ticket to the attendant; stand in a line that runs parallel to—but six feet back from—the curb; slide your luggage to a space between yourself and the curb; get a baggage tag; march past the bags and get on the bus in the order of your line. Once your line empties, the line that has formed parallel to, and behind, you will step forward and take your place and they will push their luggage forward, and wait for the next bus. A seamless process. No one needed to ask questions. No one was cutting in line. No one was looking around as if to ask, “am I doing this right?” There wasn’t any nervous energy, just peace and calm. Almost robotic perfection. After a ten-hour flight and landing in a foreign country, I found myself smiling and taking long, even breaths. I’m a ‘process girl’ and there was no better way to welcome me to Tokyo.

Three days later stepping off of the subway and reaching my destination without a second thought, I wondered, Can I move here?

But first, my Japanese television debut.

 

Excuse me

 

“Excuse me. Are you American?” a young Japanese woman asks.

We had just crossed the street from the station and were marveling at the site before us–thousands of heads bobbed down Nakamise-dori shopping street with large bright red temples in its wake.

Maybe it was the surprise of where we were or maybe it was the novelty of being the only Caucasians, but we agreed to be interviewed for ZIP! Television and answer questions about our travel choices, such as, “Would you consider booking a traditional Japanese hotel if you returned?” (yes, we would)

Interview over, I took their picture just before an officer approached them to make sure they had the proper permits (they did). By the way, there is security everywhere in Tokyo and though you might think it would seem stifling, it was unobtrusive and reassuring–I promise you (by the end of this newsletter you won’t be surprised why). Once we were even assisted by a police officer who halted the sweeping of a road crew while we crossed the street.

After our two seconds of fame, we shopped our way through stands, picking up a lot a few tasty pastries here and there, and finally, we stood before the temple precinct in Asakusa with Senso-Ji.

 

Kaminari-mon (Thunder Gate) is easily recognized with a gigantic chochin (lantern). We found some shade (it was 80 degrees Farenheit) and watched as dozens of people stopped by the incense cauldrons to waft the smoke over their bodies, granting themselves health in the days to come.  Others approached walls of wood drawers where they shook metal canisters full of numbered sticks. They’d draw a stick, locate the corresponding numbered drawer and retrieve their paper fortune (omikuji), all for a donation of 100 yen.

 

We spent a few hours enjoying the gardens around the shrines and indulged in good old-fashioned people-watching. After a while, we returned to the subway and headed back to our hotel. We felt relaxed and happy and decided we would return the next day to further explore the shops, and walk to neighboring Ueno, which I’ll write about in a future letter.

 

What I learned

 

As we walked the short distance from the station to our hotel, I shared my observations of Tokyo and my inner peace. I’m a happy person but I was feeling lighter, calmer, and more present. Ted said, “You like order.”

Have you ever had someone tell you something about yourself that you hadn’t considered and immediately recognize the clarity and rightness of their feedback? That’s how I felt. I immediately recalled Lorraine Watson’s recent post, An Oath of Invisibility where she recognizes the word, her word, that “…emodies why we are here and shapes our lives.” I kind of assumed, when I read her newsletter, that my word was Process.

I obsess about processes. I can’t stop myself from noticing ways to improve them even when they have nothing to do with me and my advice is not solicited. Granted, I don’t go around and tell people how they can improve their business, but I WANT TO. Instead, I tell Ted—all the time—what businesses should be doing differently. He nods his head and reminds me, “They might not care if their business is inefficient.” Also, now’s a good time to tell you I was an executive assistant to C-Level executives for decades. I excelled at my job because I’m really good at anticipating needs, obstacles, and outcomes. I focused on process improvements within the business. My job was to help my manager meet his and the company’s goals. Assisting and results always came naturally to me.

But Ted had hit the nail on the head. My word isn’t Process. Process is simply my tool to reach or improve the outcome of ORDER. ORDER is my word. Just even typing ORDER makes me smile.  I anticipate needs, gaps, and outcomes. I find solutions and pinpoint process as a surefire roadmap for order.

Since that day, I’ve learned to embrace order and what it means to me. Doing so allows me to be flexible when I can’t have order, which is often given there are 7 billion people with free will. Mostly, it helps me recognize how and when I can leverage my penchant for order as a strength and in places that might seem unlikely such as in my creative life. Order? Creativity? Really? Yes.

For example, Dan Blank, We Grow Media, announced an 8-week mastermind program “that will focus your creative business for success in 2016.” I’d just returned from Japan when I saw his announcement. I enrolled and it’s been awesome. The course is helping me to make informed decisions about my creative and business choices in 2016. It’s only week 3 and I already sense order in my life. I don’t want to give away his steps, but I have to tell you, process wise, I have no changes to recommend!

 

As always, thank you for joining me today.

If you’re in the U.S., I wish you a very Happy Thanksgiving this Thursday. I hope you enjoy a day full of good company and good food. May you share happy memories of loved ones passed while building new memories with loved ones present. May you have a moment to yourself, and may you laugh through it all.