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Reflection: What a Japanese Hiking Guide Taught Me About Being a Doula
- Mel Haley
- 20 hours ago
- 6 min read
Last month I went to Japan to visit a college friend living in Tokyo, and she decided that we ought to take a 10 hour hike to see a 3,000 year old tree. Turns out, our hiking guide Nobu-san had a lot to teach me.
We traveled to Yakushima, a small island off the Southern coast of Japan, known for its intense rainfall, turtle hatching site, and the forest that inspired Princess Mononoke. There are unique conditions that allow cedar trees to grow slowly, and 1,000 year old trees are common enough to earn their own special name: Yakusugi. And of course, if you want to see the oldest ones you must earn it by hiking for hours in the forest. Very Japanese.
When I first agreed to it, I didn't think much about it. A hike to a really old tree? Sounds cool, I'm in. I've hiked before. They said its 8-10 hours but that is probably for the slowest hiker.
Then, my partner and I stumbled across the packing list right before we left: rain jacket, portable toilet, salt candy (for hydration), and the ability to carry all the water you need for the day. I started to wonder if we signed up for more than we bargained for. And even as I write this I'm smiling because isn't that how people often approach birth? At first a nonchalance, a confidence. Then, as the event approaches, reality and pragmatism set in.
My friend, Cat, reached out and said that she felt like we should hire a guide. I had enough sense not to argue. We arrived at our hotel, settled in, and then set out to secure portable toilets (?) and salt candy. We were told we would be picked up at 3:55am the following morning. I suppose that as a doula, I should not be so averse to a 3am wake up since it happens all the time. But I was AVERSE. I also started to worry a little bit. Could I actually do this? How long was it in miles? What would happen if I couldn't make it the whole way? What did I really need to pack? Did I have enough? Again, some interesting parallels with birth.
We managed to get our butts outside by 3:57am (my partner was outside at 3:50, and anyone that knows them will be unsurprised). Our guide, Nobu, loaded us into his van for the 1 hour drive to the trailhead. He was unassuming and chatted a little. We were some of the first people to the hut and he encouraged us to sit and eat our bento breakfast. I was still queasy from the drive but did as I was told.
I was carrying 4 disposable toilets. Nobu asked if we had crampons. We did not. He asked if we had headlamps. Also no... His look told me he didn't have much faith in us based on our preparation, and he turned abruptly back to his car. Bless that man because the first 2.5 hours was on icy wooden railroad tracks, and the next 2.5 hours was up snow-covered rock and wooden stairs. We literally would not have been able to stay on course and upright without his gear (Neither of which was on the packing list, btw).
We had planned games and activities to keep ourselves busy, but we ended up walking in focused silence. It felt like everyone else came ready for how serious this hike was except for us. Nobu would tell us when to rest. When to stop for water. You could drink the water straight from the springs! At the first spring, he insisted we dump out the water we carried in to replace it with the fresh water (and then he repeated this each time we got deeper into the woods to the next spring).
We noticed that Nobu was also tamping down snow to make it easier to follow him. All the other tour guides greeted him with respect and admiration. We found out he has been a guide for 30 years. We started to realize that he was a respected elder on the trail, and that maybe we (the most unprepared) had lucked out and gotten this amazing guide.
And then Nobu did the first thing that made me realize he was our Yakusugi doula: about a half an hour before lunch he insisted that we take a layer off. I wasn't in a position to argue with this man who was keeping me alive, so I did. We sat down to lunch and immediately got cold from being still and covered in sweat - but we had our extra layer to put back on! He also pulled a thermos of warm water out of his giant pack, along with 4 mugs and some instant miso. It was the best soup I've ever had in my life.
The lunch stop just helped us notice how tired we were, and we were loathe to get back on the trail. Nobu was ready. "I made some homemade bread with salt from the sea that I harvested myself. I will make coffee and bread for you on the way back." Oh, ok. Turns out I can get up and walk if you promise me a delicious treat. At every water break we whispered, is this the time when we get the bread? We knew we couldn't ask Nobu, and we trusted him at this point to know exactly when we should stop. The dream of the bread kept me going!
Finally, several hours later, we pulled over. Not to the side of the trail, but through the woods to a sunny spot by a rushing turquoise river. We sat as Nobu, who had done the exact same hike while carrying a huge pack AND doing trail maintenance, scooped water from the river to make coffee. He had a whole boiling system, a whipped peanut butter / butter combo, and of course, THE BREAD. Raisin. Heavenly. My partner wondered out loud, "What else do you think he has in that pack?"
We walked over 18 miles that day - my second highest mile count ever. For the record, I walked as fast as I could all day and it took us over 11 hours. It was the hardest I've worked for the longest amount of time straight in my life. Understandably, It took me a couple days to recover, but once I did, I realized that Nobu had taught me countless lessons about being a doula:
Stay ready: Your clients might show up missing important gear (or knowledge) and it is your job to anticipate the gaps. Use your hard-earned knowledge about the path to inform the moves you make, like the little foil pads Nobu kept at the top of his pack so we could sit along the way without getting wet or cold.
Hold the pace: When the sun rose, we stopped to admire it. Nobu let us, but not for long. We understood later that he wanted us back out of the woods before dark, and I have no doubt that he was keeping a careful eye on the time so we didn't rest too much too early. [Note: in birth the pace is different, and I want to you to rest to the max early on in labor.]
Offer milestones: Throughout the hike, Nobu was always telling us what our next stop would be, and it helped to have smaller goals inside of the bigger goal.
Eyes on the prize: I cannot overstate how helpful the promise of bread near the end was; and it had an added bonus of being a beautiful moment to rest and integrate. I ended up feeling really proud of myself as we exited the trail. Nobu helped me stay focused on the end and made me feel so cared for in the process.
Document: Nobu noticed we were the kind of hikers who like to "make a picture" and every time he saw us try to sneak a selfie, he would pull over and take a group photo of us.
Be firm: There were moments where I really didn't want to do what Nobu was saying (like get back up and keep walking), but I never argued. In part because he had a quiet confidence about him, but also because I trusted him. His being firm helped me trust him. In teaching (my past life) we called this "warm demanding." He insisted because he knew we could. And we did!
This experience got me really thinking about how expertise is earned over 16-20 years, something we don't acknowledge as much in American culture where people side-hustle and bop around and have short attention spans by default (thanks, capitalism). Sometimes I feel like a very experienced doula in part because turn-over is high and so many doulas are not quite as full time as me: 7 years and over 130 births in, I feel like I've earned a place. Nobu had me reflecting on how I've build a really strong foundation and now I get to spend my time fine-tuning. Being subtle and precise. Noticing. His humility and attention to detail was inspiring. He helped me feel really excited for the next 10 years of this work!
