I’m on the early morning Narita Express, heading to the airport. From there, I’m flying to Bali.
Outside, the weather is remarkably beautiful. No strong wind. The sky is clear. Not hot, not cold — just right.
What’s been happening these past month or two
The last month or two has brought wave after wave of change. A new environment. Shifting relationships. A reimagining of my life’s direction. A quiet reckoning with the question: how do I actually want to live?
My nerves had been wound tight
As my last day at work approached, I stopped being able to sleep. The day itself was full of noise and discomfort, and by the end I was completely drained. I must have been running on adrenaline — I barely slept for two days.
But yesterday, for the first time in a long while, I slept deeply.
Returning to a place where I feel safe
I think the two yoga classes made a real difference. The yoga studio with its view of the sea, my favorite Ashtanga teacher, that particular quality of stillness in the air — I felt my nervous system finally returning to somewhere it could rest.
The restlessness that had been with me for so long was, this morning, strangely quiet.
A morning with no waves
No ripples. Everything clear.
I don’t fully know what shifted. But maybe this is the calm that comes after surviving something big.
I feel grateful for today.
Watching myself this morning, I thought: it’s remarkable how much quieter a person’s nervous system becomes simply by changing their surroundings.
If this essay resonated with you,
you can support my writing here ☕
This essay is also available in Japanese and Spanish.
日本語版はこちら
Versión en español:
If you’d like to continue this journey, the next episode begins at Ngurah Rai Airport in Bali, where everything finally starts to feel real.
コメント