I’m six weeks into building a life here in Tokyo and the thought rolling around my mind the most is: why haven’t I done this before.
I know. Things happen when they happen and timing is a magical and unpredictable force, but there is something about the cliffs edge of difficulty and excitement involved with establishing roots in a new culture, a new language, a new set of expectations and rules (my god so many rules) that weirdly makes me feel very much at home.
I have no idea how long my life will keep me here, how things will continue to unfold, but the feeling and the knowing remains: I am meant to be doing this.
I could write a book already on the hilarious things that have happened this past week alone. Handing my real estate agent thousands of dollars in cash at an ATM because as a new foreign resident I’m (only just) allowed to open a bank account, but not to make any purchases, or transfers. Then there was the alarm beneath my bathroom sink (really) that is designed to go off if there is a leak (there wasn’t one) and the only way to stop the thing from screaming bloody murder is to disassemble the entire bathroom unit, which I did, somehow, after five hours of this alarm drilling itself into the darkest corners of my brain, with a screwdriver the size of my pinky finger and an incredible amount of force.
Despite prioritising travel over just about everything else, up until last year, I have spent my entire life living in the country I was born. There’s a lot I could say about no longer living in Australia, the distance that has grown between us over the past year, but as Spring finally made it’s way to Tokyo this week, what’s currently at the top of my mind is the feeling that I finally get the whole seasons thing.
The last six weeks has been the longest stretch of cold I’ve ever experienced in my life (I can feel my friends in Denmark and London rolling their eyes). It is foreign to me, completely, to have not left the house for six weeks without a down puffer jacket and multiple layers of thermals, to wake up every morning freezing. It is wild, for me, to see a top of 10 degrees on the weather app and feel relief instead of pure dread.
March in Tokyo was unseasonably cold. It snowed not once, but twice, and the heralded arrival of the cherry blossoms has been delayed and delayed and delayed again, making headline after headline. People have been sitting for company hanami (cherry blossom viewing) parties, shivering, forcing smiles, skulling asahi super dry in limited edition pink cans without a single flower in sight.
So when Spring hit, on Friday precisely, as it happens with seasons in Japan, like some weather god drew a line in the sand and declared SWITCH, I wasn’t fully prepared for how euphoric I would feel.
I smiled like an idiot staring up at the sun walking in-between interior stores in Futako-Tamagawa. I tried to stop myself from skipping. I laughed at how naked I felt without a coat. I ordered fish and salad sandwich for lunch and when asked what drink I wanted I surprised myself by immediately replying cora (coke) without a second thought. It has been significantly more than a decade since I have ordered a coke with any kind of meal, I almost looked behind me to see if I would be caught.
I enjoyed and savoured every last drop.
Next week, I move into my permanent apartment here in Tokyo after a year of nomadic life. The moment the contact was signed (which, by the way, took two hours because each and every rule needs to be read out at least two or sometimes three times, just to be very, very sure you are not yakuza, friends with one or have any serious plans to play the piano).
I felt both heavy with fatigue, followed by a great and consuming wave of excitement that kept me awake far longer than my body wanted, shovelling sushi topped with pickled ginger into my mouth in the glow of my battered Macbook Pro, 34 tabs open, deciding between a sofa and a nest of floor pillows (you know which one I’m choosing) and four types of green drinking glasses that are, essentially, exactly the same.
There a lot to do and yet, I am not feeling a rise in my heart rate.
The more I come back to what needs to happen today, this morning, in the next hour or two, the easier it all feels. I often wonder how many problems I created for myself in the past, running, breathless, at full speed, focusing on how much needed to be done in total, rather than what could happen right now.
I wonder how many overgrown paths I took dashing around frantically looking for a shortcut, when all I had to do was learn how to walk slow.
As we slide into April, there is a lot going on.
Seasons are changing, eclipses are happening, mercury will be retrograding, the astrological new year has begun.
Interestingly, what I am hearing from almost every woman I know at the moment is something along the lines of I feel really, really powerful. I feel strong. There is a stirring, a waking up. No matter what hemisphere you’re in, there’s something in the air, and it’s a little spicy.
I cannot help but feel the stars are aligning for some kind of great change or great softening, maybe both, depending on what you want.
(If you’ve been feeling the same - or not at all - please share in the comments below).
And while I believe we should never have to resist our urge to skip instead of walk, to grin like a maniac, to feel alive with the potential of it all: I do feel there is something to this season which is asking us to honour all we desire and dream of by walking toward it with open arms and at the very same time to have the deep trust that it’s not going anywhere fast. There is no urgency. You’re not going to blink and miss it. There is no rush.
Just keep walking. One foot in front of the other. Resist the urge to look up. Pause but don’t stop.
April in The Daily Rest Studio is a big month.
March was soft and gooey, and in April, we slowly, and deliberately get shit done. Our focus is Grounded Action: a call to keep one foot in each world. To take active steps toward what needs to be done, but to wait for the sugar high, the peak of the euphoria and excitement to wear off first.
Alongside our monthly Full Moon & New Moon Rest Circles, we have two workshops this month I’m really excited about.
The first is a co-taught Soft Business workshop with Ash of Evolve Virtually (who is my incredible operations manager for TDR & Emmie Rae) about Failing Well. Not only is Ash brilliant - she also has years experience working with women in business and SO much to share in actually getting your work out there, pivoting, and having your business be a sustainable, successful thing!
Toward the end of the month is an extended Human Design Workshop (available for drop-in, too!) focused on actually living and experimenting with your Human Design (aka your strategy and authority) in everyday life. Making decisions, work, business, relationships, the lot. This is going to be a big one and helpful if you’re moving through some big stuff at the moment and want to know how to trust yourself even more.
A few notes:
〰️ A couple of spots for 1:1 Mentoring here. Recent topics coming up in sessions are: building an online platform / membership, starting a substack, saying no to make space for a bigger yes and how to manage the abundance when it comes.
〰️ Last week, my dear friend Birjiwan and I announced A Japanese Late Summer Dream, a retreat we’ve been breathing life into for almost two years. We have sold about 60% of spots so far and I do believe it will be full quite fast. If you’re interested or have any questions, please do reach out!
Echoing sentiments of feminine strength, and feeling ever inspired by your journey, Emmie. I feel that I am finally inching toward a burst of newness after a long season of healing and rest.
There are definitely some astrological fairies in the air whispering softly in our ears to get.shit.done
Love your Spring intoxication energy as I immerse myself in a bed of daisies for my own Inner Spring :D xx