It’s hard to believe it’s already been a year since I completed the 48-day, 750-mile Shikoku pilgrimage that quietly marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life. At the time, I didn’t fully realize what that experience would come to mean. Now, looking back, I see it not just as an incredible physical journey, but as something much deeper.
The Day We Finished
April 22, 2024.
That date is etched in my memory. It was the final day of our 48-day journey around the island of Shikoku. After walking over 750 miles and visiting all 88 temples, we had finally reached the end of the pilgrimage.
But the feeling wasn’t what I expected.
There was no big celebration or dramatic moment. No cheering crowds or finishing medals. Just a quiet sense of peace, relief, and disbelief. We had done it. We had walked the Shikoku pilgrimage—step by step, temple by temple—through wind, rain, sunshine, and doubt.
I remember standing still for a moment, unsure what to feel. Part of me was proud. Part of me was tired. And part of me didn’t want it to end.
Even now, I can still picture the sky that day and how the trail felt under my feet. What seemed like an ending at the time was actually something else—though I didn’t know it yet.
What Shikoku Means to Me Now
Now, I realize Shikoku wasn’t just about the miles or the temples—it was about how I showed up every day, even when I didn’t feel like it.
It was about walking through uncertainty, discomfort, and sometimes loneliness, and doing it anyway.
Looking back, the beauty of Shikoku wasn’t only in the scenery or the tradition. It was in the rhythm of waking up, packing up, and trusting the path ahead—no matter how tired I was. That rhythm has stuck with me.
The pilgrimage gave me space I didn’t know I needed. Space to think, to feel, and sometimes just to be. And that space made room for something new to quietly begin.
A Quiet Beginning to Something Bigger
When I first started the Shikoku pilgrimage, I thought of it as a challenge—something to complete and check off my list. What I didn’t expect was how quietly it would reshape my outlook.
It didn’t happen all at once. There was no big realization or “aha” moment at the end. Instead, something inside me started to shift quietly. After walking for 48 days, life suddenly felt different. Slower. Simpler. And more open.
That openness made me start questioning what I wanted next. Not just in travel, but in life. The months that followed felt like a reset, even though I didn’t plan it that way.
Shikoku helped me let go of things I’d been holding onto—old routines, expectations, even certain fears.
Looking back now, I can see it clearly. The pilgrimage didn’t just take me around an island—it gently pointed me in a new direction.
Life Since Shikoku: Walking Forward
The pace and presence I found on the Shikoku trail still shape my days.
I move through life more mindfully now, making room for quiet moments. I say no without guilt and leave more space between commitments. I’m no longer trying to fill every hour—I’m learning to let things unfold.
There’s also a quiet confidence that comes from finishing something so physically and mentally demanding. I don’t think about the 750 miles every day, but I carry the strength it gave me.
It reminds me that I can keep going, even when I don’t know what’s around the corner.
The Lasting Gift of Shikoku
The Shikoku pilgrimage may be behind me, but its presence in my life hasn’t faded. It still shapes how I move through the world—more aware, more present, and more willing to pause.
I didn’t know it then, but that experience would leave a lasting mark. Not just in my memory, but in how I live. It’s no longer just a place I visited. Shikoku has become a part of me.
That’s why I hope to return someday—not to retrace every mile, but to visit the places that stayed with me the most. The temples, the trails, and the quiet corners that made me feel something I still can’t quite explain.
Going back would be a quiet way of honoring the chapter that began on those trails. Not to finish anything. Just to return, with gratitude, to where something meaningful began.
