"Husband. The Day He Was Tested by Eighty-Eight Figures" #68 Special Edition = LO...VE...

To those who have wandered here,
this note is
the LONG Ver. of "Husband. The Day He Was Tested by Eighty-Eight Figures" #68.

The regular version can be enjoyed here. The long version is about five times the length of the regular version, allowing you to enjoy this atmosphere in a relaxed manner.

Chapter 1: Husband. Heading to the Pilgrimage
Chapter 2: Psychological Warfare with the Eighty-Eight Figures
Chapter 3: The Person Returning to the Mountain
Chapter 4: The True Nature of the Blessings

Now, please enjoy.

"I'm just going to do a little pilgrimage."

That's what my husband said as he headed to Mount Takao.
I thought it would be casual since it was a nearby pilgrimage, but what awaited him were two climbs and descents, and eighty-eight Daishi figures whose very numbering was enough to confuse anyone.

Chapter 1: Husband. Heading to the Pilgrimage

June 13th, a sunny day in the middle of the rainy season.

The gray clouds that had covered the sky until yesterday seemed to have gone on a business trip somewhere today. The blue sky stretched out from the morning, and the green of the trees, having soaked up plenty of rain, looked deeper than usual.

I can hang the laundry outside. During the rainy season, that alone makes me feel like I've gained a little something.

On such a morning, my husband was preparing to go out earlier than usual.
A hat, a towel, a drink, and shoes that looked easy to walk in. It was clearly some serious equipment.

"Mount Takao today?"
When I asked, my husband answered as if it were nothing.
"Yeah. I'm going on a pilgrimage."
A pilgrimage.
The image that came to my mind from that word was of someone wearing white robes and a sedge hat, holding a Kongo-zue staff, walking the roads of Shikoku.

At the very least, it is not a word that belongs on the schedule of someone who leaves the house in the morning and heads to a drinking party in the evening.
That day, my husband was scheduled to attend a farewell party for "Double-Cropping Future Girl Momoe-san."
Double-Cropping Future Girl. Just hearing the name, it sounds like an agricultural transformation heroine from the future, but of course, that's not it.
Momoe-san is someone who works in a mountain hut in the summer and lives in the lowlands in the winter.
My husband and his friends call that lifestyle of changing where they live depending on the season "double-cropping."
Summer is the mountain.
Winter is the lowlands.
Within the same year, there are two lives.
It's quite a fitting description.

Momoe-san had worked at the same mountain hut before. And this year, she decided to return to that mountain hut again.
Having experienced the harshness of the mountain once, she was heading to the same place again. A farewell party to see her off was to be held in the evening.
I think just drinking, eating, and saying "Good luck" would be enough to constitute a farewell party.

However, it seems that before the party, a task was issued to "do the Mount Takao 88 Daishi Pilgrimage."
A task before a party.
A task, even though it's not school or work.
And on top of that, a pilgrimage.
In my husband's circle of friends, it seems that even drinking parties require prior study.

Normally, one would conserve energy during the day in preparation for the evening banquet. If possible, take a nap, settle the state of one's stomach, and head to the meeting place with time to spare.
Isn't that how most people spend their time before a drinking party?

My husband and his friends are different.
They walk the mountain before the banquet and look for the eighty-eight Daishi figures.
It's a very healthy, and very grueling, appetizer.

According to my husband, the "Mount Takao 88 Daishi Pilgrimage" was created so that one could experience the Shikoku 88-temple pilgrimage within Mount Takao.
On Mount Takao, small stone statues wearing red hats and aprons are placed here and there along the mountain paths and around Yakuo-in Temple.
I have seen such stone statues on Mount Takao before.
But I didn't know that they were the eighty-eight Daishi figures and that each one had a meaning.

I had just vaguely noticed them as part of the scenery.
It seems my husband was the same.
"I had noticed there were stone statues with red hats," he said, while excitedly telling me about the origin he had learned for the first time.

During the Meiji era, a high-ranking priest from Yakuo-in Temple on Mount Takao actually went on a pilgrimage to the eighty-eight temples in Shikoku. At that time, he brought back soil from each location, enshrined it on Mount Takao, and placed a stone statue of Daishi on top of it.
By doing so, he created a place where one could obtain the same blessings as traveling to the real Shikoku by visiting the Daishi figures on Mount Takao.

Bringing back soil for eighty-eight locations.
First of all, that in itself is quite a lot of enthusiasm.
Nowadays, one would likely just take photos, record the location information, share the trip online, and be done with it, but he brought back the soil.
Moreover, he enshrined that soil on Mount Takao, placed stone statues, and shaped it into a pilgrimage route.

In an era when transportation was not as convenient as it is today, traveling around Shikoku and carrying the soil from that land all the way to Tokyo.
The idea is amazing, but the fact that it was actually carried out is even more so.
My husband seemed quite moved by that.
"It's amazing that someone would even think of that. And it's even more amazing that they actually did it."
He said that many times.

I certainly think so too.
The number of people who can go all the way to Shikoku is limited.
It requires time, money, and physical strength. If people have work or family obligations, there are those who cannot go on long journeys.
In that case, let's make it possible to receive those blessings in another place.
Let's open the path of prayer even to those who cannot travel far.
That might be a kind of distribution of happiness.

However, they don't make it completely easy.
If you go to Mount Takao, you don't automatically receive the blessings. You have to visit the eighty-eight figures of the Great Master on your own two feet.
Moreover, according to my husband, to visit them all, you have to climb up and down Mount Takao twice.
They made it possible to go on a pilgrimage nearby.
But they didn't make it simple.
Happiness is distributed.
However, they also demand a corresponding level of leg strength from the recipient.
It is a very solid system.

If it were a modern service, they would probably say things like, "Pilgrimage completed in as little as one day," "No waiting time if you act now," or "First-time limited offer: increased blessings."
This is the authentic style that has continued since the Meiji era.
Whether your legs hurt or you are drenched in sweat, they won't shorten the mountain path.
Before the blessings, there is properly placed sloping ground.
My husband originally seemed to have some interest in this pilgrimage.

When the challenge came up, he decided to participate without hesitation.
"Doesn't it sound interesting?"
My husband definitely said that before he left.
I thought to myself.
You usually say "it sounds interesting" before you start something.
That phrase, with a high probability, includes the meaning, "I haven't yet imagined specifically how difficult it will be."

It's the same with trips, events, or new hobbies.
It sounds interesting. It sounds fun. Let's try it.
At the entrance, he is always lighthearted.
And then, along the way, he realizes, "This is harder than I thought."

Even so, for some reason, he proceeds to the end, and after returning home, he says, "It was really great."
There is a pattern to my husband's actions.
This time, too, it will surely be the same.

I was thinking about such things while seeing off my husband's back as he went out under the blue sky.

Chapter 2: Psychological Warfare with the Eighty-Eight Figures