At Home, Elsewhere

learning how to be at home

My Neighbourhood Katano

This morning, I woke up with a lot of thoughts. When one stage of your life is ending and another is beginning, the cogs in your head turn out of sync. Every now and then there is a jam, the mind gets confused and stops. Normally during the day I can keep myself together, but during the night it’s a different story. To be honest with you, I have only had a few good nights of sleep in Japan. I wake up and I forget where I am, sometimes I forget who I am. My confidence swings like a pendulum. One day, I know who I am, the next day I feel the need to be someone else. This morning, I reflected a lot on my journey. For a long time, I had wanted to start a travel blog, to share videos, to share stories, and to be like those people that I see online. If I’m completely honest, I see them and their popularity, their success, their amazing lives, and it makes me chase something that is not me. Something outside of me.

Chasing dreams can be fun, but I’ve learned in my travels this year that it depends upon your direction of travel. If you’re always seeking things outside, then you’ll want to mimic what you see around you and you may not be satisfied if you feel you don’t make the grade. It’s a risky game to play, because there are no two lives in the world that are the same. If you’re seeking to travel further inside yourself, then the deeper you go, the more you’ll find. It will be scary, and uncomfortable sometimes, but you’ll always be living your own story. Sharing my thoughts online has made me more conscious of my image to others… and the truth is that I have not lived up to the lives of others that I watch and admire. Of course I haven’t. Those around me who have visited strange and exotic places, had rare experiences that only the daring few can have. No, this is not me. While other travellers may replicate shot after shot of scenic beauty, search out hidden gems and create awe inspiring art… I just write about my every day thoughts on the road. My life is not that fantastic, and sometimes I’m a little ashamed to show it.

It makes me cringe that I even worry about this. I don’t consider myself a superficial person, yet it is the superficial that bothers me these days. But it’s the same as if your worries were a wall… in order to climb over it, you must touch the wall and look over it with a certain intimacy. Search through its cracks to find places where you can get a good grip, before you jump over and move onto the next thing in life. So after a long morning of contemplation, I decide that I can’t start climbing if I just sit in my room and do nothing. I get up and do what I always do – go to a new café, to see a new view, meet new people. I couldn’t have made a better decision. This morning’s walk was truly beautiful.

It’s strange, that I have been to many touristic cities during my current trip to Japan but nothing has been more beautiful than my own neighbourhood in Katano City. It’s not touristic at all, and I am often the only foreigner walking around. Maybe that’s why people stare at me and say hello on the street. My walk took me through an small, local shrine. Quiet, neutral, with no flashy colours… it sat there peacefully, not demanding any attention. It led me out onto a path with a view of the city. Kilometres of rice fields spread out just below the road, the farmers out with their big hats, tending to their crops. In the distance were the tall buildings of the city, the highway tunnel made a thick white line like the body of a giant aeroplane hovering over the city. I could see cars racing across, little colourful dots moving across the painting that was before me. To my left, the train tracks stamped itself upon the scene, bleeding bronze and black at the edges. A train slowly rolled past.

It was stunning, I had to take a moment to let it sink in. Soon, I would be leaving here. My worries about image seemed far away – it doesn’t matter what I have to show, I knew in this moment that I was fulfilled, even if I couldn’t convey that feeling to anyone. As I moved on, I walked past a dense bamboo forest and up a steep hill to a little train station. Around the train stations in the countryside of Japan is where the action is, all the izakaya, the cafes, the convenience stores form little clusters of activity. I soon found my café, and it was so lovely I couldn’t believe that a place like this existed within the suburban streets of a town in Japan.

As if it came straight out of a Ghibli film. A little black fireplace in the corner, tables made out of large cuts of tree trunks, small blue cushions on wooden benches with straw woven through its centre. Even the walls are cladded with thick branches, a small garden with a shrine waited, hiding in a corner. There was a little counter where the owner sells local honey, a seating area, and some benches surrounding an open kitchen. It looks as if you are sitting at the kitchen counter of a home. My description is not doing this place justice, but I try anyway. I order a café au lait and honey toast, and the most fluffiest bread, soaked and dripping with golden syrup is served to me by a kind lady.

As I eat my toast, I watch her keeping busy around the store. She laughs with others, and walks around seemingly without a care as to whether people come in or not. But if they do, she always greets them with a smile. Yes, I remember that it’s the simple, understated things in life that I learn from the most. Without being rude, I can say that I’ve enjoyed todays experience more than seeing the intricate and renowned temples of Kyoto and Nara. I am glad that I dared to pass up another touristic site today, in exchange for a simple meal. I ask myself, maybe it’s possible that I can have the same attitude in my life as the lady who runs this cafe. She’ll never know how much she impacted me today. I guess we never know… we never know just how much happiness we spread when we decide to simply be ourselves.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *