It’s 2025 and I have never been this free in my life. Freedom has been on my mind a lot throughout my life. When I was younger I used to think freedom was a universal good thing, but after the last few years (the last decade, really) I’ve come to see that reality is, as usual, a bit more nuanced. Ultimate freedom, for all the good that it would do, would also mean that you are not tied to anything. I miss being tied to my parents, my home country, and to the life I used to lead back in Japan. I still strongly enjoy the freedoms that I have, but now that I’m older, I also appreciate my ties, my bonds, a lot more.
In the past I’ve not been the best at acknowleding the ties that I have (had). As the saying goes, you only know what you have, when it’s gone. The sense of gone-ness has featured a lot in my life lately, and I’m still learning where to place that. People die. I’ve lost connection with the people and places that used to matter to me. My health is not getting any better. Getting old fucking sucks. Such is life. During the shit times, those negatives are all I can see.
But recently something happened that made me see my life in a whole new, much more positive, light: I started on weight loss medication. I’ve not been on it for that long yet, and I’ve had some miserable moments during the first two months I was on it, but two weeks ago I experienced something of an epiphany. For the first time in literally ten years, I didn’t have to worry about any stomach issues. I didn’t have to worry about what I ate, or how it would make me feel afterwards. It felt fantastic.
And with that came flooding back my excitement for life. I suddenly realized that, all the things that I do for fun, I didn’t really do for fun any more. I just did them because they were “things I did”. Sure, I derived some level of satisfcation from it, but it suddenly felt insigificant compared to how I felt at that moment. I realized that I could do things again and enjoy them as much as I used to. I realized that, no, it’s not just all downhill from here as I get older. Some things can get better. Some things will get better.
It reminded me of one time, when I was in my mid-twenties, sitting on a hard airport floor in Switzerland somewhere, because my flight was delayed for several hours. It sounds miserable, but at the time I felt absolutely fantastic. I was at the top of my physical game and my freedom game at the time, and I would’ve felt great anywhere. That is the feeling of excitement, of being comfortable with myself, that I have found again. It’s not always there (yet), I definitely still have plenty of moments where I’m my old numb self again. But the spark is there. Thanks to this feeling I have a reminder of what it feels like to enjoy life again. I am motivated.
The same week during which I had my epiphany, I booked a week off, bought a plane ticket to Japan, and packed up my bicycle for travel. I’m going cycling in Japan on my own bike, for the first time in ten years. It won’t be a mega serious cyling trip since I’ve only got one week and I intend to stay in Kanagawa, but it feels like the start of something new. Over the past ten years I’ve thought a lot about finally “finishing” cycling in Japan, by doing the last quarter of the coastline between Tokyo and the northernmost point of Hokkaido. And all those years I had been silently dreading that trip, because it’s the least hospitable cycling one could do in Japan, and I knew it would be a serious challenge for me given my physical state. So I swore it off. After my parents died, I asked myself how much I actually valued that trip versus the hardship it would give me, and I realized that it just wouldn’t do anything for me. It wouldn’t mean anything. And I stand by that. But now, with my newfound excitement and, hopefully, future physical fitness, I can also see a world where a trip like that is not a massive hardship for me, and I can definitely see myself deriving excitement and satisfcation from an epic cycling trip like that. Even if I never end up doing it, I have regained the freedom to do it if I feel like it. And that feels fantastic.
I’m writing this from an airport lounge at Heathrow. Life has been kind to me in that way. No more cold floor tiles in Swiss airports. I’ve got some sunny days ahead of me, no fixed schedule, no worries on my mind, and a newfound physical fitness. If you asked me even two years ago that I’d be where I am now, I could not have imagined it. But here I am. New adventure, here I come.