I’M BACK IN JAPAN after a day of travel, eating sushi at a conveyor belt spot in Tokyo. I’m 29 and I got no clue why, but Tokyo is home. For now, this is where I return.

Life is strange.

Are we expected to nail it? To know who we are, what we love, who we love, what we’re good at, where we’re supposed to call home? Aren’t we all just hanging on?

I mean, I feel rather out of sorts all the time.

Who’s got it all together? I don’t.

Still, I think I’m happy. I’m sitting here on the other side of the world, and I got a beer, I got music in my ears, and I got me.

I come to this sushi spot about once a week — it’s really good. It’s familiar. I like it. Music makes me feel not so alone, or dumb for living this way. But I’m pretty happy, cause I got friends, and I got today.

We’re not supposed to have it all figured out. Just know that.

I took an impromptu trip back to the United States for my birthday at the end of August and ended up attending Burning Man, the first shining star in a constellation of experiences I can only describe as fate.

I wasn’t planning on going home or to Burning Man; it just happened. My time back home turned into a formative chapter of my journey, and what I believe will be the initial spark for a truly epic year.

I don’t have a plan. I don’t have a roadmap. I just have feelings — profound feelings that tell me I’m on my way.

After touching down in Tokyo, I sat on the train from the airport watching the world go by, shaking my head in disbelief. I can’t believe I’m at a point where I return to Japan and it feels like home. Because it is.

This was one a dream. Literally unthinkable. Now I’m here, and life goes on. We can do what we want in life. Just fucking do it.

Three years ago, during Covid, I wanted to move to Japan more than anything. It was my dream, but it didn’t feel possible. But I persisted, and Covid eventually lifted.

Now, I’ve lived in Japan for two years. I come back and I know the airport. I know the little quirks of getting through the gates, and it’s wild to me.

It’s not like I was passionate about being an English teacher. It was my ticket to Japan. Sometimes we’re afraid to make a change because we think the next step has to be perfect, or it has to be exactly what we want to do.

It doesn’t. It just has to be a next step, and that’s what teaching English was for me.

We don’t have to have our entire lives figured out. All we can do is take one step after another. So what step do we take? We listen to our inner voice.

Not when we’re tired or in a bad mood or hungry, but when we feel it’s our authentic self speaking to us. When we get the repeating messages telling us the same thing over and over — break from the mold, take a step in a different direction, follow the creativity that sets your soul on fire.

And maybe what our inner voice tells us to do doesn’t look like “success” on paper, but, speaking from experience, it’s the thing that will instill our lives with meaning, and it’s meaning that will sustain us through the inevitable ups and downs of life.

My inner voice says write.

Writing these stories doesn’t make me “successful.” They haven’t gotten thousands of likes, or claps, or gone viral.

I write these stories because I have to. They matter to me. I believe it’s doing what matters to us when we’re young that will lead to our success later on in life.

I’m not talking about monetary success or acclaim, although these things may come. I’m talking about an inspired, gratifying life.

Meaning comes from listening to that voice that tells us to stray, that tells us to sit a little longer, that tells us to speak up, that tells us to write.

A meaningful life is what I crave.

I’m analyzing my life at a conveyor sushi restaurant in Tokyo, and I’m pretty satisfied with that. There is no answer as to what we’re meant to be doing on this planet. That’s the beauty of it. I gotta believe we’re alive to feel love. That’s the romantic in me.

We’re on this earth to feel love and to feel it deeply. Why else? We’re animals. We’re here to feel this unexplainable emotion called love that we get to share with other people, that we get to feel through doing the things that light us up inside.

If there is no answer as to why we’re here, why not make it our life’s mission to live the question? Can the answer of why we’re on this rock be just to do work we don’t enjoy, to just get by? I won’t accept that. I can’t accept that.

That is the middle of the road experience I abhor.

I would much rather have the highest highs and the lowest lows from real human experience than a consistent, lukewarm existence. That’s what my life has been since college — highs and lows — but it’s been real. It’s been a challenge. It’s been an adventure.

When we take a shot on ourselves, there’s gonna be pain, just as much as satisfaction. Because life hurts. Life is fucking difficult. That’s why I still feel pain in my body. Because there’s still a lot that I’m dealing with and that I’m working through and that keeps me up at night.

But it’s worth it to be alive, to have these experiences, to hold people we love and to share in this indescribable journey.

Being human is worth the pain that we must endure.

Nobody is exempt. We’re all dealing. Have fierce self-compassion. Have fierce compassion for others. It’s the only way to heal — the only way to move with the light.

We’re so hard on ourselves, when we’re really doing our best with what we have right now. Be easy. Relax.

I was all over the place in the airport before heading to Japan. I was psyched to get back to my digs. Then I got hit with the sadness of saying goodbye to the people I love.

Darkness and light, I let it all in, and I got through it. This morning I was overwhelmed when I woke up. My stuff was everywhere, and I had this whole laundry list of things I had and wanted to do.

One step at a time.

First? Let’s go get a coffee at the local konbini (convenient store). I got outside and it felt cool.

Wow, what a beautiful day, I thought. It’s cooling off in Japan. Autumn’s here — my favorite season — and it feels glorious. The sky was perfectly blue, and I got a coffee at the konbini and had a cheerful outing.

Then I started unpacking. I called my friends and organized my room. Took care of some business. Did my laundry. Recorded a podcast. Wrote. One thing led to the next.

One step snowballs and before we know it we’re flowing. We’re not supposed to have it all figured out. But we can always take the next step.

This universe is guiding me in such deep and mysterious ways, all I can do is trust it and go. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m here. I’m finishing my book. I’m gonna start writing the next one. I want to be a full-time writer, getting paid to write these books, do my podcast, create shit, and inspire.

This is what I love, and I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

We’re all going through this human experience, and if we’re lucky, we get 80 plus years on this rock.

Isn’t that insane?

We could have been born 2,000 years ago in the Roman era, just struggling to survive. But we got 2024, the greatest time to be alive. We have our problems, of course.

We’ve been dropped into existence for a brief blip of time. We could do anything in life. It’s not easy, but we can do it. What will your brief blip of time on Earth consist of?

Life is exploration. It meanders, takes one step here that leads us there. Takes a step back that was really a step forward.

Who’s the great orchestrator of this beautiful game? It’s beyond all of us, and that’s the point. I think we’re here for love, baby. I really do.

I’m sitting here thinking deeply and slamming sushi, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m full of emotion, that’s for sure. I’m full of love.

Perhaps that means that this is exactly what I’m meant to be doing with my life.