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Elena's avatar

I don't know that I agree with the everyday Misogi in the comments, I think it misses the point. Sure, it's great to challenge our comforts when we decide to face something head-on instead of ignoring it, but that's not really what a Misogi is. I've done a couple Misogi and they are exciting and difficult and scary. Mine were hiking rim to rim last year with friends and then doing it alone this year after a really bad hike last time. Both times I trained hard, I thought I knew what I needed and I was excited and nervous. And both times I was so physically drained by the end, I was wondering why I'd done it when NOT doing it would have been easy. In those miles and hours you learn so much about yourself, and sometimes those thoughts are appreciation for what you CAN do, and others there are reflections on what's not going right and how that discomfort feels. Both hikes changed me in very different ways. On the first one, I thought I was going to die and the second, I was so tired but thinking about what I'd do the next time.

I read recently that a lot of the effects of stress in our body has to do with our perception of stress. When we believe stress to be bad for overall health, our health deteriorates. But not all stress is bad, especially when we use it to drive ourselves forward. I wonder how much of this is cause and effect and what's just correlation. Surely, the person that takes stress in stride have similar perceptions of other things in life and may not get so quickly derailed.

Irina Strobl's avatar

Misogi yes, and I'm saying this to myself as much as anyone. Most of us are already surrounded by hard things we've been carefully stepping around. The conversation we keep rehearsing in our heads but never have. The boundaries we don't set because the moment isn't right. The decision we push to later, when conditions are better. They won't be. We can't change everything at once. But picking the one thing you've been avoiding the longest and going after it: that's an everyday Misogi.

Julie Rains's avatar

A week or so ago, my husband, son, and I did several days of hiking in Slovenia. I signed up for moderate hiking (via a local company) but found myself with strenuous and challenging. This included a section that nearly violated the Misogi rule and a personal one of mine (don't let anyone die): a narrow passageway on a scree field with undesirable exposure. As I analyzed the point in question, I asked my husband "how do I do this?" and he told me to watch my son as he made his way across. I followed precisely what my son did and then prayed my husband would also pass safely. After the fact, my husband remembers this incident very differently from me, which could be an element of being traumatized or at least being put under pressure.

At some point in the trip, I realized that this "vacation" was this year's Misogi. I've done hard things before but the benefit this time, I can see now is the reflection. For me, this year, it was realizing that technique can be taught, studied, and learned, even for things that I previously believed were undefinable or unlearnable. A couple of years ago, I took one bouldering class and have since applied just a few lessons to hiking in ways I didn't imagine were possible, also employed on this trip. Then, watching my son maneuver taught me another skill.

There's probably more to mine from this experience. Thanks for the prompt and encouragement to reflect.

Kathleen Abela's avatar

I agree with the other comment. The everyday Misogi is the real key to growth. Picking one big hard thing to do can, of course, be an opportunity to grow, but it can also just feed vanity or other less desirable traits. It's a both/and.

Harrison Sheplan's avatar

I’m doing a 5k on July 4th for a misogi. Nothing official. Just going to my local track and running 12.5 loops. I’m setting a goal for myself that I may hit. If I do or don’t it doesn’t really matter. It’s the time and effort that I’m putting in now to make it happen that will stay with me, and make the biggest impact. Success or failure really isn’t the point. I feel like I gain more in the training and planning phase anyways.

Louis Cianca's avatar

How do you know what qualifies as a Misogi and how do you determine what your 50/50 point is? If you don't complete the Misogi, are the lessons learned as helpful (or helpful at all) as they would be if you completed it?

Dawn Smith's avatar

Brendan, above, had the 50/50 question too. I shared my experience with a failed misogi under his comment. I learned a lot and it’s made me more focused and helped me pinpoint some weaknesses I’m working on shoring up before my next attempt.

Mark's avatar

I think what is missing from the idea of a Misogi potentially being a form of trauma is the unknown, or unexpected. I think someone has to experience something totally unexpected for it to really change them. If the pain, suffering, uncertainty, anxiety, etc. felt during a Misogi could have been predicted, I’m not sure it should really be considered trauma.

Brendan Donoghue's avatar

Question - for I guess Michael or anyone else that has done this. I don't need the specific details of your misogi - but if the goal is 50/50 chance of completion, where have you netted out on success versus failure? Perhaps an interesting review would be to look specifically at the "failed" misogis and whether success is necessary for growth or learning.

Dawn Smith's avatar

I had a failed Misogi. For me, it was making the attempt before I was 100% sure I could do it. While I wanted to complete it, I knew in the recesses of my mind that there was a chance of failure, mainly do to physical preparation, not any mental reservation. During the attempt, I learned what I needed to do to up my chances of success next time, and I’ve been working towards shoring up my weak spots that prevented completion. Funny enough, with this new prep, I feel like I’m going to need to up the challenge again to make it 50/50. So, instead of five intervals, I’ll need to challenge myself with 7-8. For context, my misogi is completing multiple “there and back” intervals on a very technical and challenging section of trail in my area with my 20lb ruck on.