One day, Japan

Some places don’t just pass through your life.
They recalibrate you.

Japan wasn’t just somewhere you visited.
It was where your body felt lighter.
Where your days felt intentional.
Where being alive didn’t feel like something you had to justify.

Coming back is strange.
You try to call it a trip.
You tell yourself it was temporary.
But your nervous system remembers it as home.

And now the hardest part isn’t that it ended.
It’s living a life that keeps asking you to forget how alive you once felt.

If you’ve been there, you know.
If you miss it, you’re not alone.

What stayed with you the most after Japan?

— @dannnbae

Japan is that place for me.
I’ve only come to love it more, the more I go back.
Saying it was a trip feels like betrayal.
My nervous system literally remembers it as home.

One day, I will go back. Solo. No family. No fixed itinerary. No classes. No fuss.

One day, I will just stroll leisurely along the Kamo river in Kyoto, during sakura season.
One day, I will chance upon a traditional neighbourhood store with delicious wagashi.
One day, I will marvel yet again at how quiet and calm the streets of Japan are.
One day, I will slurp ramen loudly and passionately at a hole-in-the-wall shop.
One day, I will linger and wander in Lawson’s and Family Mart, looking for things to buy.
One day, I will meditate on tatami mat living room of my Airbnb in Japan.
One day, I will cycle around quiet streets in my hood, on my way to grocery shopping.
One day, I will sit by the window of a Shinkansen bullet train, and just watch.
One day, I will be in awe of the level of craftsmanship the locals put into their crafts.
One day, I will go to Japan and not leave… for a long time.

One day, I will.