Goodbye, Tokyo

At some point during my Mt. Hood pilgrimage, I decided the time had come to close the chapter on my time in Tokyo.

During my four years here, the city has given me so many thrilling adventures and beautiful memories. I’ll miss popping into tiny coffee houses in back alleys and having long, winding conversations with their proprietors about the way things used to be–before the Olympics, before the Internet, before Starbucks. I’ll miss my Saturday morning visits to the farmers market in Shibuya. I’ll miss visiting the sento bath on a cold winter night, then leaving a trail of steam behind me as my warm body cuts a path home through the blustery air. Mostly, I’ll miss getting the hell out on the weekends to hike and bike Japan’s gorgeous countryside and majestic mountains.

Among my friends and acquaintances, there are many who thrive in Tokyo and are unable to imagine themselves somewhere else. To them, my decision is a bit vexing. Why would I leave behind this city and all it has to offer?

For all its excitement, Tokyo was never a perfect fit for me. The city’s high cost-of-living translated to an unsustainable relationship with work. Longer hours at the office made it harder to maintain a life that aligns with my values, which emphasize our shared role in maintain the Earth’s health and a commitment to community and shared responsibility.

For a time, I blended into the city quite well. I loved the live houses, enjoyed the novelty of chancing upon any of the myriad niche events always taking place somewhere along my strolling path, and benefited from the 24-hour convenience stores that offer anything a person might need.

None of Tokyo’s novelties was enough to satisfy my need for purpose and connection. Its imposing skyscrapers–concrete and glass, a sea of gray stretching as far as the eye can see–were never nearly as impressive to me as a snowy mountain peak or a forest clearing. The bright city lights burning all hours of the night were a stark and constant reminder of how quickly we’re burning through our planet’s finite resources.

In October, I’ll put Tokyo behind me and settle into the Pacific Northwest. Mt. Hood and its wild blessings gave me the courage to undertake this new challenge, so I want to repay the region for its guidance by contributing to efforts to protect and preserve its abundant nature.

So, in the weeks that remain, I’ll say goodbye to Tokyo. I’ll share teary-eyed reminiscences with friends. I’ll walk through the parks and alleyways a few last times. Then, I’ll step onto a plane and start something new.