WHEN I CAME HOME from my first visit to Japan in 2019, it was Christmas Eve and I was a shell of myself. That trip opened my eyes and heart, for I realized while traveling what I truly want to make of my life.

I want to be a full-time creator, exploring frontiers of meaning both out in the world and within myself. I crave an adventure of the heart and soul.

That vision of what I want and whom I long to be has guided me like my North Star ever since that first trip to Japan, where in a moment, everything changed.

My friends and I were sailing above Tokyo Bay; rain clouded the windows of the train; with the world around me dripping in silver, my mind smoldered with thoughts of potential.

I want to live here, I thought realistically for the first time.

I want to get out into the world permanently, and share how it makes me feel.

I returned home and could barely talk to my family because I felt so torn; I couldn’t explain what I’d experienced. I’d just had a taste of the adventure I crave, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around how to make that my life.

Where to start?

I didn’t know. But I kept questioning, writing, and looking for signs.

It’s been nearly four years, and the goal is the same.

Keep pushing into the unknown.

I’m home in Los Angeles for two weeks before heading back to Japan, where I’ll work until the end of the year as an English teacher. I’ve been living in Japan for over a year, and a page is turning.

I plan to move from Osaka to Tokyo to find a job as a writer, or at least a gig that inches me closer to my ideal life as a full-time storyteller and creator.

Last week, on my final day teaching at the school I worked (I’m gonna be a substitute for the next month when back in Japan), a mom and dad of two sisters I taught asked if I could take a picture with the girls.

Sure! I thought the pictures were for them to have.

But the dad took a Polaroid of us and then put the printed photos in letters that the girls wrote for me. The mom had tears in her eyes as they said goodbye for the last time.

I was at a loss for words; it was incredibly cute.

The gesture seemed so simple, yet they couldn’t imagine how much it meant to me.

This was once my dream, just being in Japan having experiences like this. This is what I so badly wanted, what I dreamt about for three years during Covid; now, it’s hard to believe this chapter is nearly over.

I hope you’re happy in Tokyo, said my school director the week before I left.

I paused, reflected and replied, I’m happy now. I meant it.

No, I don’t have my ideal job as a full-time creator or a writer for a magazine. I’d by lying if I said I don’t get frustrated, wondering if I’m doing enough or if I’m making the right decisions.

I, like everyone, go through highs and lows; I get down on myself and question if things will ever work out the way I imagine.

I fear I’m not good enough, strong enough, brave enough. I fear I’ll always have to work jobs I’m not one hundred percent psyched on while I pursue my passions on the side.

But I’m out here, I’m trying, and it’s my commitment to this journey which fills my life with joy, for it’s not crossing some finish line or reaching some endpoint which will finally make us happy.

If we can’t find joy in the pursuit, we won’t be happy once we make it.

It’s the striving towards a vision which gives our life purpose, the gradual steps towards a dream where some days you’ll go left, others you’ll fall back, and often it’ll feel you’re not taking any steps at all.

That’s okay. Growth is not always gonna be pretty, and it definitely won’t be linear like a bell curve up and to the right like we might imagine.

But what makes it worth the effort no matter how badly it hurts are the moments you can’t expect, those such as seeing that mother with tears in her eyes, grateful for something I gave her daughters that I didn’t even realize.

Maybe it was joy, for those little sisters made me smile daily.

Maybe it was a memory they’ll always cherish, like giving a high-five and some encouraging words when they passed their Eiken test.

Maybe, hell, I even taught them some English.

Little do they know they gave me something in return, a reason to continue, a story worth telling. It’s moments like this which fill my heart with love, and that’s all I truly need to carry on.

Life isn’t perfect. It never will be. Despite it all I’m happy now, navigating this sea of mystery with my heart as a compass.

I don’t know how things are ultimately going to work out, and of course that makes me scared.

Yet if we knew how things were going to go, what would be the point of trying? Of failing? Of embracing the unknown and taking chances?

Maybe nothing we have planned will happen in the way we envision.

But perhaps what comes next for both of us will be far different, and far better, than we can possibly imagine.

We never know how life will go, and ain’t that beautiful.

All we can do is to continue, and that’s so incredibly exciting.

Much, much love.