This morning I wake up with the sun. It is a mystery to me how my internal clock always knows sunrise. Even on the other side of the globe, I’m up at the first hint of dawn. Last night we arrived in Tokyo after nineteen hours of travel. Unsurprisingly, the boys are still fast asleep. I should be, instead I am doing my best to quietly find my way around a strange new kitchen and somehow make coffee.

Despite not having a coffee maker and having cups the size of thimbles (I exaggerate, but not by much), I finally get enough instant coffee in my system to function. While I wait on my husband and my eldest child to awaken, I spend my time trying to figure out our public transportation options and to find a low key interesting destination that will ease our way into life in Tokyo.

Once my guys are awake and fed, we head to the bus stop at the end of the street. It looks like we can take bus 32 or 33 to the train station and save ourselves a long walk each day. I use Google Maps to navigate because I have no idea where I am going and the bus driver doesn’t speak English. The bus stop signs are in Japanese. The Google Translate camera isn’t great with the scrolling messages on the bus message boards, but Google Maps is showing our location in real time. Thankfully, occasionally we get a brief visual of the stops using the alphabet instead of Japanese characters. I can work with that. I chuckle because all the recorded bus messages are in Japanese, except for one that tells me to “please hold on tight” as if to say buckle up buttercup you are in Japan.

We exit the bus at the stop that Google suggests. We need to find Shinjuku Station (perhaps the largest train station in the world), but there is no station in sight. We follow a sign to an under ground complex. Still no station. We walk with the crowd, but are going the wrong way. Sweet baby Jesus, I need to find this station or my travel mates may not let me hear the end of it. Of course, they can always help navigate.

Eventually, my husband finds a sign and we find the station. We discover that Google Maps is often confused in multi story structures (especially if you are two or more layers underground). But perhaps we have cracked a code and solved the how to get to the station from the house issue. Next time we will ignore Google and ride one more stop to the main station.

Next we have to find the JR Yamanote train line. It turns out to be easier than I thought. We are only going two stops to Harijuku so we don’t care that the train car is crowded and that we have to stand. Our destination is the Meiji Jingu Temple park.

One look at the large park full of trees and the guys want to eat before we head into the sprawling temple complex. Apparently they have traveled with me before and see this as their last chance for sustenance before I hike them to death. We walk around the street in front of the train station, but the many choices make us even more confused. We look up menus online (because they are in English) and google the address. Then we walk in circles. Oh wait, the restaurant is likely underground….maybe we learned something this morning….maybe. Yes! We find the restaurant, but as we enter we are shooed outside before we can get in the door. I am confused and trying to decide where to go next when the hostess comes to get us. Apparently the restaurant is small and etiquette dictates you wait in a line outside until they ready your table. We apparently still have a lot to learn.

Full of noodles and happy to conquer the park, we head across the street. I am in love as soon as I see the first giant wooden Tori gate. I know the temple was built for the Meiji Emperor early in the last century but the gate feels ancient and timeless. Trees line the walk and I feel I have entered another world.

I convince my crew to visit the Empress Garden first. My husband recoils at the word garden, but my number one son is happy with the choice. I love sharing this place with him. He has been interested in Japan since he was a child. Perhaps he will enjoy some things my husband will not (sushi, tea houses, gardens…). It is nice when someone shares your enthusiasm. Of course they will bond over baseball, Godzilla, and the endless electronics stores that will come later I’m sure. Then I will be the reluctant follower. We balance.

The garden is serene with a traditional rest house. It is beautiful but understated. The lake is dry and the spring is not flowing. It is an unfortunate circumstance for the gardeners who are doing their best to work around the situation. I bet it is stunning when the water flows freely.

We walk on. The blue sky and the multi shades of green trees are a perfect setting. We stop at the purification fountain. There are directions in English. To enter the temple we must put our right hand under the fountain and take water to pour over our left hand. Then we must take water in our right hand and touch to our lips. Then we must bow at the Torii gate before crossing into the temple. I want to be respectful so I hope I do it correctly.

Inside there are multiple places to buy good luck charms and prayer cards. I take an offered peice of paper, write my request, and then place a prayer for peace in the world into the container to be added to the multitude of prayers said by the priests today. The world needs them and the Lord hears the cries of the needy.

Suddenly, the path is blocked. A crowd has gathered. I am not sure what is going on. We tiptoe to a see beyond the wall of people. My son, who is very tall, tells me that the monks are leading in a procession of baseball players. We find out it is the blessing of the team that marks the beginning of the season. People have turned out to witness the blessing and to offer their own prayers for good fortune. It is special to watch. I think about opening day at home in St. Louis. We just have Clydesdales. This is feels more serious.

Eventually the crowd thins. I am taken in by the simple beauty of the place. I am drawn to the “marriage” trees whose ropes and tassels symbolize the sacred. Couples and individuals pause to pray. So do I. It is as good a place as any to give thanks for my marriage and my partner of several decades. We aren’t perfect, but we are doing our best and I am thankful.

Just as we are leaving this beautiful space and I am thinking about marriage….how wonderful and how hard it can be….. A guard orders us to stand back behind a line. He pushes everyone back and then further back. We of course comply without knowing why. Within a minute, a traditional wedding procession takes shape. The bride is beautiful in her white kimono and large hat. The groom is smiling. They are covered by a large red umbrella, a symbol of shelter. The priests lead the procession into the temple. The guests follow. I hope they stop at the marriage tree and take a few seconds to understand the importance of roots and grounding. I hope they are as fortunate as we have been.

Japan is off to a great start. I am reminded that the conditions of life are not always convenient and can sometimes feel overwhelming. But if you choose wisely, you will find a partner to travel with who won’t really mind if you are up with the sun or sleeping in. They will co-navigate or at least understand that you are never really lost if you are together. They will laugh with you when the universe tells you to “hold on tight”. Pick the right travel partner and all of life is one crazy adventure after another. It has been a magical Meiji morning. I can’t wait to see what happens next.