We are human be-ings.
Our most recent trip reminded me of the quiet life I built back home.
It was my second time in Japan, and I still haven’t fallen in love with it like so many people do.
Between both visits, I’ve been to eight different cities and have yet to experience a place that leaves me yearning to go back.
Kyoto was hyped up to be a quaint city, and that wasn’t the case at all. It was awfully crowded and a majority of the time, all I could see was the back of someone else’s head.
Japan’s public transit is incredible and it was our sole mode of transport every time. That plus walking 15,000 steps daily meant frequent encounters with strangers every single day.
So far, only Otaru and Nagasaki have presented slow living lifestyles. I found most of the places we visited to be overstimulating—the bright lights, sheer number of people, and hyperconsumerism.
Since JT is Japanese, we’ll be returning to Japan for years to come and my goal is to visit smaller cities.
While there were certain aspects of the trips that I enjoyed, I felt overwhelmed and mentally exhausted by all of the noise.
Needless to say, this trip made me particularly miss home. Whenever I had some quiet time, I reveled in being with my own thoughts.
That’s when I realized how much my lifestyle has changed in the past ~2 years.
I have built a life of solitude, and it is glorious.
I grew up in a house of five children, and later roomed with six college housemates. In my mid 20’s, I lived for six years with my sister and her partner.
I never really got to experience being by myself inside a home.
I worked in-office and transitioned to a hybrid WFH schedule the last three years of my professional life, which meant my house became a home office during the day.
It wasn’t until JT and I moved in together did I finally have time to truly be by myself—while he’s at the office and I’m without the confines of a work schedule.
I am free.
For 18 years of our lives, we are trained in school to become workers.
Our mornings were always spoken for as we headed to school and in adulthood, it became heading into the office for work.
We are constantly kept busy by doing what society deems is normal.
Our days are filled with noise, and if you’re lucky without kids running around the house, you’re permitted to have two quiet mornings a week to yourself.
When you’re forced to consistently be preoccupied, you lack the wherewithal to challenge what’s always been done.
If you slow down and question our society’s modus operandi, you might learn that you desire to engineer a life that you want to have.
I love getting to travel for new experiences, but boy did I miss my slow breakfast mornings at my dining table.
This Japan trip made me realize there is nothing I would trade for the peace and quiet inside my home.
Being alone allows me to decenter from the world, listen, and get stronger in the silence. There is nothing I have to do or own to impress anyone around me.
I am lucky to have time to be by myself and sort out my feelings, and it is the best luxury that money could buy.
I hope that by sharing my story, it gives you the courage to experience one of the most freeing things in life—living a life that is authentic to you.