In ancient Kyoto, a devout Shinto scholar 
lived a simple life,

but he was often distracted 
from his prayers by the bustling city.

He felt that his neighbors 
were polluting his soul,

and he sought to perform 
some kind of personal harae—

a purification ritual that would cleanse
his body and his mind.

He decided to travel 
to the revered Hie Shrine.

The trip was an arduous climb 
that took all day.

But he was glad for the solitude 
it afforded him,

and the peace he felt upon returning
home was profound.

The scholar was determined to maintain
this clarity for as long as possible,

and resolved to make this pilgrimage
another 99 times.

He would walk the path alone, ignoring 
any distractions in his quest for balance,

and never straying from his purpose.

The man was true to his word, 
and as days stretched into weeks,

he walked through driving rain 
and searing sun.

Over time, his devotion revealed
the invisible world of spirits

which exists alongside our own.

He began to sense the kami, 
which animated the rocks underfoot,

the breeze that cooled him,
and the animals grazing in the fields.

Still he spoke to no one, spirit or human.

He was determined to avoid contact 
with those who had strayed

from the path 
and become polluted with kegare.

This taboo of defilement hung over 
the sick and deceased,

as well as those who defiled the land 
or committed violent crimes.

Of all of the threats to the scholar’s 
quest for spiritual purity,

kegare was by far the greatest.

After paying his respects 
for the 80th time,

he set out for home once more.

But as darkness fell, he heard 
strained sobs in the night air.

The scholar tried to push forward 
and ignore the moans.

But the desperate cries overwhelmed him.

Grimacing, he left his path 
to follow the sound to its source.

He soon came to a cramped cottage, 
with a woman crumpled outside.

Filled with pity, the scholar implored 
the woman to share her sorrow.

She explained 
that her mother had just died—

but no one would help her with the burial.

At that news, his heart sank.

Touching the body would defile his spirit,

draining his life force and leaving
him forsaken by the kami.

But as he listened to her cries,
his sympathy soared.

And so, they buried 
the old woman together,

to ensure her safe passage
into the spirit world.

The burial was complete, but the taboo 
of death weighed heavily on the scholar.

How could he have been so foolish,

to shirk his most important rule 
and corrupt his divine journey?

After a tormented night,

he resolved to go back 
to the shrine to cleanse himself.

To his surprise, the usually quiet temple
was filled with people,

all gathering around a medium 
who communicated directly with the kami.

The man hid himself, not daring approach
in case anyone glimpse his polluted soul.

But the medium had other ways of seeing,
and called him forward from the crowd.

Ready to be forsaken, the scholar 
approached the holy woman.

But the medium merely smiled.

She took his impure hand in hers,

and whispered a blessing 
only he could hear—

thanking him for his kindness.

In that moment, the scholar discovered 
a great spiritual secret:

contamination and corruption 
are two very different things.

Filled with insight, the scholar 
set himself back on his journey.

But this time, he stopped 
to help those he met.

He began to see the beauty 
of the spirit world everywhere he went,

even in the city 
he'd previously shunned.

Others cautioned that he risked kegare—

but he never told them 
why he so freely mingled

with the sick and disadvantaged.

For he knew that people could 
only truly understand harae

through a journey of their own.