Nothing Was Left＠mx002

Last year, I returned to Japan from Australia.
Somewhere in the middle of that transition, I decided to start recording my life.
The reason was simple.
I became ill and was taken to the hospital by ambulance.
For the first time, I realized how suddenly life can end.
After returning to Japan, I began sorting through old boxes and belongings.
Among them were hundreds of photographs collected over decades.
I couldn’t keep them all.
I kept only the photos of people close to me.
The rest had to be thrown away.
Many of the faces were no longer familiar.
Their names had been forgotten.
Their stories had disappeared.
Only the photographs remained.
That’s when I understood how easily a life can fade away.
Memories disappear.
Records disappear.
And eventually, people disappear too.
I have lived across several countries — Japan, Israel, Thailand, and Australia.
For my daughter, that story is even more complicated.
So I decided to leave a record.
A record of where I came from, how I lived, and where I stand today.
Here, I will record my travels, daily life, craftsmanship, and thoughts.

One year earlier.
In a small Australian town called Stokers Siding, I was trying to build a ramen shop.
After five years of running ramen pop-ups, I finally believed I was ready to open a place of my own.
I painted walls after work.
I built counters.
Little by little, the shop began to take shape.
Then everything changed.
Partway through the construction, I discovered that the property could not legally operate as a restaurant.
By then, I had already spent a great deal of time and money.
I had given up my previous home.
There was no way back.
What hurt most was that I never got to serve a single bowl of ramen.
Not one.
From that point on, something inside me slowly began to break.
Without realizing it, I fell into depression.
I stopped seeing people.
I spent more and more time alone.
Three days before my flight to Japan, another panic attack hit me.
Shortness of breath.
Ringing in my ears.
A feeling of complete despair.
I couldn’t sit still.
After ending the lease, I let go of almost everything I had built during more than twenty years overseas.
The place where I had experienced both hope and disappointment was finally behind me.
Nothing was left.
All I had were a few clothes and the jewelry tools and parts I had brought from Japan many years earlier.
That was the moment I truly realized I was going home.
I felt empty.
Anxious.
Lost.
I kept asking myself the same question.
“Can I really start over in Japan?”
To calm myself down, I opened YouTube.
It didn’t help.
Then a thought came to me.
Maybe I should write.
Maybe I should record what I was feeling before it disappeared.
Finding work in Japan would take time.
I knew that.
And I felt that if I did nothing, I might lose myself completely.
So I made a decision.
Alongside my journal, I would begin writing down my life.
At the time, I was fifty-six years old.
I had spent more than half my life outside Japan.
Perhaps it was time to put that life into words.

When I was twenty-three, I left Japan.
My destination was Mexico.
There were reasons I felt I had to leave.
But more than that, I wanted to see the world beyond Japan.
I wanted change.
In Mexico, I discovered jewelry making for the first time.
I knew nothing about it.
I learned by watching others and teaching myself.
Yet somehow, my hands understood.
Before long, it became part of who I was.
Later, I sold my work on the streets of Shibuya.
I opened a shop in Harajuku.
I met an Israeli woman and married her.
I lived in Thailand.
I traveled across Africa.
Eventually, I moved to Australia.
More than twenty years passed before I realized it.

I left the Gold Coast, stopped in Cairns, and finally arrived at Narita Airport.
It was my first return to Japan in seven years.
The season was late autumn.
The air was cool.
The trees were turning red and gold.
At last, I was back.
I felt relief.
But I also felt a sadness I could not explain.
Previous visits to Japan had always been temporary.
This time was different.
I was returning not as a visitor, but because a chapter of my life had come to an end.
I had always assumed I might return one day.
I just never imagined it would happen like this.
So here I am.
Back in Japan.
Looking back on a life spent gaining things and losing things at the same time.
And now, as one chapter closes, I find myself wanting to start again.
From the beginning.
From the place where everything started.
Mexico.

#SafariArchive #LifeArchive #Memoir #StartingOver #FamilyHistory #TravelMemories #LifeLessons #Craftsmanship #PersonalJourney #Memories