Spring feels

Spring is here. The cherry blossoms have reached their peak and are now about to say goodbye. I wonder if I will experience the beauty of sakura somewhere again next year? Meanwhile, here's to new beginnings, rebirths, regeneration, new buds, new friends, flowers that bloom in their time, hearts that hope and love. Here's to spring. :)

Train

Last December, I went around Kyushu alone. I bought a one-way ticket to Nagasaki, then I figured I would work my way from Nagasaki back to Kobe on train using the seishun juhachi kippu. But I also know that I am uber lazy and that more than a day on the train may not be such a good idea. So I revised my plans. I'll be flying to Nagasaki, then I would be going to Kumamoto on a train using the juhachi kippu and to visit a high school friend.

Of course, when I made these plans, I did not factor in inclement weather, which caused my afternoon flight to Nagasaki to be delayed for one and a half hour. In Nagasaki, I revised my plans again and thought of going to Kumamoto by ferry via Shimabara Port. I really enjoyed the hour-long trip from Isahaya to Shimabara. The train I was on was very cute. I enjoyed the scenery and started writing on my journal, feeling like I am a legitimate traveler who does these things all the time. When I arrived in Shimabara, I found that they cancelled all ferry trips that day because it started snowing that morning. So I have to revise my plans again. I did not want to go to Kumamoto in the evening, because that would have defeated my purpose for using the juhachi kippu - which is to see the sights of Japanese countryside.

The next day, I went to the train station early, and braced myself for a five-hour train ride on local trains from Nagasaki to Kumamoto. It was still dark when we left Nagasaki station. I settled in my seat, comforted by the fact that there are toilets on the train and that I have some food and water and readings and I am with the person I love most in the world - me.

Truth be told, I kinda fell in love with myself again that day. I used to like long train rides when I was younger. I used to love talking with myself, writing my thoughts and emotions down, processing things, but at some point in my life, I abandoned these things in favor of sleeping, or mindlessly watching TV or taking care of other people too much that I forgot that I am my own person. During that train ride, all of my senses were alert. I do not know how to speak in Japanese, and internet signal was intermittent so I had to always check whether I am in the right direction, or whether the train is stopping for what seems like a very long time in various train stations just because it was supposed to do that. I had to rely on myself entirely. I know I may be playing this train ride up too much, but it felt that way for me -- like I was being reborn. I watched the sun rise and I was so moved by the beauty I wanted to cry. When I looked out the window, fields and trees and sprawling mountains filled my eyes and I cannot help but think that I will probably never pass this way again, but I am glad that I did. I was struggling to stay awake because I wanted to drink it all in, but at some point I slept on the train, and when I woke up, I was still there, I still have time to look out the window and think of nothing or of everything. I wanted the train ride to last.

At some point, I took out my notebook and pen and started scribbling things that have been lodged in my chest, causing all kinds of stress. I wrote and wrote and thought about how I have let myself become a writer who doesn't write, a photographer who doesn't take pictures, a dreamer who stopped dreaming because it was easier to indulge in a dreamless sleep. For many years, I enjoyed the "freedom" of not wanting anything, and not working to achieve anything, because I thought I already have what I want. But then I looked inside myself and realized it was me who stopped fanning the flames inside me. I am there, but not there. I stopped dreaming. I stopped learning. I stopped pushing myself because I was so scared of failing. I was scared of conquering fear and overcoming failure because that would mean returning to the person I really am, a person who wants many things. When I was younger people would say, you have your whole life ahead of you. Now that I am a bit older, does that mean that I skipped a chunk of that life ahead of me and that only a little is left?

Crazy, crazy beautiful train ride. I want to do it again. ###