Craig Mod’s 300-Mile Japanese Pilgrimage Unveils Walking’s Power to Transform Grief into Forgiveness and Belonging
Things Become Other Things: Walking, Forgiveness, and Belonging in the Mountains of Japan
In Things Become Other Things, Craig Mod embarks on a 300-mile pilgrimage through Japan’s ancient Kumano Kodō routes—a journey that becomes as much about the interior landscape of memory, forgiveness, and identity as the physical terrain of mountains and vanishing villages. The book, published in 2025, offers a deeply personal meditation on how walking can transform grief, reveal belonging, and open the heart to forgiveness, all against the fragile beauty of rural Japan[1][2][4].
Walking as Transformation
At its core, Mod’s memoir is a testament to the power of walking—not just as a physical act but as a meditative, transformative process. He writes during the pandemic, when Japan’s borders were closed and the world was collectively paused. In this silence, each step becomes both a question and an answer: Who am I, and where do I belong? For Mod, walking is a “tool to change the very structure of his mind,” a way to bear witness to life’s quiet grace that only emerges “when you’re bored out of your skull and the miles left are long”[1][2].
The mountains and forests of the Kii Peninsula are not merely backdrops but living participants—lush with moss, alive with mountain crabs at dawn, echoing with the wisdom of whispering priests and the laughter of children who ask, “Just what the heck are you, anyway?”[1][2][4]. Mod’s prose, punctuated by his evocative black-and-white photography, invites readers to slow down, to notice, and to be changed by the journey itself[3].
Forgiveness: Making Space in the Heart
As Mod walks, memories of his childhood in a post-industrial American town and his experiences as an adoptee well up, especially the story of a friend lost too soon. The act of walking through the mountains becomes intertwined with an unexpected and profound encounter with forgiveness. In one striking moment, Mod describes being stopped in his tracks by the realization that his heart has expanded—suddenly finding space for forgiveness he didn’t know was possible:
“The space in my heart for forgiveness—the moment I felt that was like getting hit in the head with a basketball—a freakish pang, a dull ache in the skull. I almost fell into a bush… my heart had expanded in some immeasurable, beyond-physics way that hearts can expand, and in that expansion I had new space.”[4]
He discovers a Japanese word, yoyū (余裕), which perfectly encapsulates this feeling: the surplus, or abundance, that arises when one is surrounded by generosity. Yoyū is not just extra time or money—it’s spaciousness of spirit, patience, and, ultimately, love[4]. This concept becomes a refrain for Mod’s journey, suggesting that forgiveness and belonging require us to cultivate abundance within ourselves, even when the world feels stripped bare.
Belonging in the Mountains
Belonging, for Mod, emerges not from arriving at a destination but from being present to the world and its people. The rural villages he passes are shrinking, their ways of life threatened by depopulation, floods, and tsunamis[1][2][5]. Yet, in conversations with aging fishermen, innkeepers, and “kissa” café owners, Mod finds a sense of community and continuity[1][2][5]. Each encounter—whether with a boar, a bear, or a child—is a small act of recognition, a thread woven into the larger tapestry of belonging.
The walk also becomes a dialogue with nature’s fecundity and fragility. The mountains are both generous and indifferent, offering “moss lush enough to lie down on naked and wilt in reverence,” while also bearing scars from disaster and neglect[1][2][4]. This landscape of abundance and loss mirrors the emotional terrain of Mod’s walk: beauty persists, even as so much is disappearing.
Things Become Other Things
The title, Things Become Other Things, is both a literal and metaphorical truth. The old pilgrimage paths become avenues for new stories; grief becomes forgiveness; strangers become companions; landscapes scarred by loss become sanctuaries of abundance. Walking, Mod suggests, is the medium through which transformation happens—step by deliberate step.
Critics have celebrated the book for its vivid writing and its ability to illuminate “the slow, faceless violence that produced so many of us,” as well as for its “prayer for abundance against the backdrop of all that is taken away”[3][4]. Through Mod’s eyes, readers are invited to look more closely at their own surroundings and to wonder what might be possible if they, too, made space for transformation, forgiveness, and belonging.
In an era marked by separation and loss, Things Become Other Things is a nourishing trek—a call to walk, to forgive, and to belong, wherever you find yourself. It is a reminder that, with each step, we have the capacity to expand our hearts and let new things—and people—enter[3][4][5].
Original source: The Marginalian – Things Become Other Things: Walking, Forgiveness, and Belonging in the Mountains of Japan