What do other people wish for?

Millions of miles away, I found out...

Nov 01, 2024

Hello! I write about grief, of all kinds, from the traditional grief of losing someone you love, to the grief of our daily lives, drifting from friends, drifting from the person we thought we might be…

I interview people, open up the space for others to share their stories and I sometimes just try to ponder on my thoughts and try to untangle them.

I hope you’ll enjoy being here.

The hopes of strangers…

The wishes clattered with each passing, gentle wind. They were gathered, all around the base of a wise old tree, watched over by his branches. They weren’t all specific wishes, some were simply hopeful, vague in their requests, while others were thankful and reflective.

They were all written on wood and hung on the hook surrounding the base of the tree, direct from the minds of millions, from all over the world, who passed through each year.

I was at the Meiji Jingu shrine, situated right in the centre of Tokyo, although it really did not feel that way. Surrounded by towering forest, the air had a mysterious freshness to it, and the atmosphere had taken my jet-lagged, irritated breath and slowed it. I did not want to talk, or rush, or do any of the things my perpetually buzzing brain usually wanted to do. I wanted to read each wooden plaque, carefully, and I wanted to consider the person behind the handwriting, the life that had led them here.

The wishes are what’s known as Ema – small, wooden plaques in which Shinto and Buddhist worshippers write prayers or wishes, to hang up at shrines for the kami (spirits or Gods) to receive them. Those that I read will not, necessarily, have been written by the religious but instead tourists, but this fact, I don’t think, makes them any the less meaningful.

“Most people just wish for the same thing, don’t they?” my husband mused. “Good health, happiness…” He was right. There was a similar thread that ran through each plaque but I did not view this as the ema being generic, or boring. Perhaps, what with the public nature of the ema and the wishes being available for anyone to read, what was written on them could signify a degree of self-consciousness – people were writing what they felt they should write, rather than what they really wanted. But… were you to be able to mind-read the private wishes recited in minds, each time a penny is thrown into a well, I think, you’d also uncover similar patterns and desires.

When I was 19, I worked in a pub that was, largely, staffed by indie men who worked very, very hard at letting me know that their tastes were individual, not a part of the mainstream and therefore better than anything I liked. I, being young and desperate to be picked, tried oh-so-hard to prove to them that I also wasn’t into mainstream culture and was “not like other girls.” I wanted to be seen as ‘quirky’ and ‘different’ but, mostly, underneath it all, I wanted to be seen. As did those boys. As does… everyone. I thought by trying to carve out an entirely unique persona I’d set myself apart from everyone else, when, really, what I was doing was the most universally shared experience of all: I was wishing to be loved.

A few days after the shrine, I was naked, in a hot, milky bath surrounded by strangers. I was in an onsen, a public bathing space, which are traditional to Japan, and swimsuits are not permitted. Everyone is stripped bare of their armour, and, I think, this is what makes the experience so uniting and special. We can see each other in our entirety, our vulnerability is truly on show. Underneath it all, we are all soft, and we all – whether they are visible or not – carry the scars of our daily lives.

The onsens showed me the raw truth of others’ bodies, while the emu showed me the raw truth of others’ minds. We all hope, we all love and we all wish for our days to be smooth, and without pain. Of course, that is simply not possible. No God is that powerful. But I think there’s so much comfort to be drawn from, alongside celebrating individuality, also celebrating what unites us. We can then go about our days, knowing that each stranger we pass is soft, and raw and wanting, in the exact same way we are soft, and raw and wanting.

Everyone has a wish that clatters in the wind.

Anyway, here were some of the plaques that moved me, or that I found utterly charming. It’s made the post a little too long for some email platforms but you can view on the app, or on the Substack website. But, if you don’t get to it, I’ll leave you with one wish which I think we should all carry into our days…

I wish to love myself more than yesterday.

Thank you so much for reading. If you liked this post, please do consider becoming a paid subscriber or simply just share with friends! And let me know… what do you wish for?