Finding Tranquility in a Typhoon on Ishigaki Island

Sometimes when I am feeling particularly stressed out, I plan a trip to get out of Tokyo. Often times just having something to look forward to is enough to get me through a slump, but just in case it isn’t, I also have a trip!

I had one such trip planned for the end of September to Ishigaki Island in Okinawa.

To be honest, I had never even considered visiting Ishigaki Island. I had already been to mainland Okinawa once, and felt satisfied that I had experienced what Okinawa has to offer. What I really wanted to do was join a yoga retreat.

I am really into yoga these days and wanted to join a retreat to focus on my practice and improve my skills. I randomly searched yoga retreats on google and found one on a small island off of Ishigaki that was the right timing and price for me. It was only a 3 day retreat, but I decided to go for the week. Lazing on a beach, snorkeling and scuba diving after the retreat seemed like just what I needed!

Two days before I was due to fly to Ishigaki Island typhoon 24 formed off of the coast of Okinawa. I knew when I booked the trip that it would still be typhoon season, but I was hoping that I would be lucky enough to sneak down and back without incident. No such luck. I contacted the teacher of the retreat and she confirmed that it would still go ahead, so I boarded the plane as scheduled and made the long journey to Kuroshima Island.

Kuroshima Island is a small island about 30 minutes from Ishigaki by ferry. It is not particularly famous or well-known in Japan. In fact, more cows than people live there.

At first I felt extremely uncomfortable. The environment is so completely different to Tokyo that I felt like a fish out of water, unable to even comprehend let alone adapt to my new surroundings. When we arrived at the guest house we would stay, the other guests were sitting at the entrance reading comic books. After dinner they started drinking on the porch. I soon realised that this is the kind of island that you come to and do nothing. There is nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to meet. The entire island is only 100 square kilometers.

The first yoga session was also difficult for me. The location was spectacular. We practiced on the third floor rooftop of a nearby guest house. It is the tallest building on the island. We practiced under the light of the almost full moon and star-filled sky. The darkness was a welcome sight. The light pollution of Tokyo still astounds me. On a cloudy night, the lights of the city reflect off of the clouds and it is almost as bright as day.

What was difficult was the pace. Compared to my regular lessons, it felt like we were moving through the lesson at a snail’s pace. The poses were simple and few. We spent more time just sitting and soaking up our surroundings. I found it incredibly hard to just sit there and enjoy the moment. My mind was racing from thought to thought, counting the seconds we sat in silence, stuck in Tokyo mode.

The next morning was much better. We woke up before sunrise and went to the roof of our guesthouse. The roof was surrounded by lush greenery, swaying in a gentle breeze. It was invigorating; soaking up the rays of the early morning sun, stretching out the soreness from the previous day’s travel, and slowly waking up from the haze of sleepy. My internal speed seemed to have gone down a gear as well, allowing me to enjoy the extra quiet time a little more.

We had lunch at a local café, where the owner broke the news that the ferry would most likely be cancelled the next day because of high seas and that we had best get off the island today or we might be stuck here for four days. As much as I was starting to grow fond of the island, being stuck here for four days may have caused me to miss my flight back to Tokyo.   

Usually typhoons move quite quickly, coming and going within two days or so, but it seemed like typhoon 24 was intent on hanging around. I guess it also wanted to enjoy Okinawa. So my 2 nights 3 days yoga retreat turned into a 1 night 1.5 days retreat, as we rushed to catch the last ferry back to Ishigaki.

Ishigaki it turns out is completely different from mainland Okinawa. While mainland Okinawa is interesting, many parts of it are city-like or touristy. Ishigaki Island on the other hand enjoys much fewer tourists and is still relatively untamed. The people seem more laid-back and friendly too. The four main forms of entertainment are the beach, marine sports, island hopping, and the food, three of which I was not able to enjoy while I was there.

At first I was really disappointed. My yoga retreat was cut short. My plans to surf, snorkel, and sunbathe were ruined. And, the slowest moving super-typhoon ever was heading straight towards me. The weather forecast predicted high seas, rain and strong winds all week. What was I supposed to do all week?

I considered my options. Maybe I could change my flight and fly back to Tokyo before the typhoon hit, cutting my losses? I looked up the flights. They were outrageously expensive. Last minute ticket purchases are definitely how airlines make their money. I guess I was staying put. Maybe there was a beach on the other side of the island that is more protected so I could still go swimming? I asked the owner of the guest house I was staying. Afraid not.

So I did the only thing I could think to do. I accepted it. I accepted that the weather was going to be crappy all week, and that I may not even be able to leave the guest house, let alone spend my time lazing on a beach. And do you know what? I had the most amazing week! When I arrived back in Tokyo at the end of it, I felt a kind of peace and happiness that I don’t remember ever feeling before. Or at least not in a very long time.

I guess you must be wondering what I did all week? It’s not what you’d expect. I still can’t really believe it myself.

I slept late every morning.

I meditated every day for at least 30 minutes.

I prepared and cooked meals with the other travellers at the guest house.

I had deep and meaningful conversations with complete strangers.

I read an entire book.

I learned how to play a few cords on the sanshin, a three stringed traditional instrument.

In between rain showers, I did a little sightseeing, but most of my time was spent doing the above-mentioned things, or nothing at all.

I don’t like to use the word spiritual, because it tends to evoke images of religion, but mentally refreshing just doesn’t seem adequate to describe the feeling. Snorkeling, scuba diving and doing yoga all week would have been very mentally refreshing. This was different. It was like a tiny candle that had been burning inside of me suddenly became a sun.

There is one person in particular who guided me along the way, a fellow guest at the guest house I was staying. He works as a barista at a monastery in Hong Kong. He was the one who encouraged me to meditate every day, and even led me through a guided meditation on my second day.

We had some really thought-provoking conversations. The one that still resonates with me now even as I am writing this more than a month later is that we are born peaceful and balanced. Finding peace and balance in your life sometimes seems like some foreign object impossible to obtain no matter how hard you try. But actually, being peaceful and balanced is our natural state. I find this idea really comforting. That if I peel away all the things that are bothering or worrying me, let them all go, then I will return to my default state. Of course that’s easier said than done, but it made the goal seem just a little closer.

He gave me so much great advice about meditation and being positive, I really want to share all of it here, but I am afraid it would turn into a short novel. Perhaps I will write a separate post about meditation, once I am a little more familiar with the topic myself. I am still just a beginner.

Coming back to Tokyo, it didn’t take long for my internal speed to pick up once again. If I continued walking along the street in Tokyo at island pace, I would probably get mowed down by the crowd. I’m used to it now, but the transition back made me wonder. If peacefulness is truly something that is inside me, does that mean that it is possible to maintain the same feeling of peacefulness that I experienced on Ishigaki, or is the environment around us an inescapable influencer? I have tried to maintain the feeling as much as I can, continuing my practice of meditation and steering negative thoughts into more positive ones, but I find it to be much more difficult here. Maybe it’s the light pollution making it difficult to see my own sun. Maybe it is the constant buzz of noise around me making it difficult to concentrate on my breathing. Maybe there is just something magical and powerful about Ishigaki that refreshes the soul.  

It truly is a beautiful island and a wonderful place to visit. I think it might even make my top 5 places to visit in Japan. I will leave you with these pictures that I took so that you can see for yourself.