What I think now, having not wanted to live an ordinary life

When I was young, I did not want to live an ordinary life was a feeling I had more strongly than anyone else.

I think I had a happy childhood, loved normally by my parents, but from the time I was in junior high school, I vaguely felt that I did not want to follow the standard path of graduating from school, getting a job, getting married, and raising children.

It is not that I was overconfident in my abilities or anything, but I wanted to live an exciting life different from others.

I can understand now that everyone has various stories and is living a one-of-a-kind life.
However, as a child who only knew the real world through TV and newspapers, I think I used to boast to my family and friends that
I wanted to become someone who could have some kind of influence on the world. The adults probably listened to me half-heartedly. They didn't say, "That's absolutely impossible," but accepted it as something endearing and supported me.

Since I was simple (or pure, to put it nicely) and easily influenced from childhood, I read "All the President's Men," which was written about the Watergate scandal, and admired the great influence of the American media.

I want to be a reporter. After graduating from graduate school in the United States, the dream I had in junior high school came true.

During my time as a reporter, I chased after things that might become news every day and jumped into the news. Because of that,

I sometimes fell under the illusion that I was at the center of the world. Since I was never involved in any incidents that shook society, it is not certain how much influence my articles had. It was a stimulating life, though.

As I mentioned before, I later changed jobs and am currently working at a general company.
It has been 35 years since those junior high school days when I talked about that dream.

Am I seeing the same scenery I had envisioned?Something is different.

I think it was the same when I was a reporter, but something is unfulfilled.
The feeling that "Something is missing..."

The puzzle pieces that should be completed are not filled in.

What are those pieces?
It is the answer to the desire to leave something behind in the world.
Now I am soaking in lukewarm water, not writing books, not writing songs. I am not doing business either.
I am content with the status quo and just watching time pass by.
The me from 35 years ago is not here.

Isn't this frustration the impatience of not doing anything?If I don't resolve these pent-up emotions, the remaining pieces will probably never be filled.

Even so, thanks to starting note in March, I am leaving my emotions in writing.

Writing books or composing songs is not impossible.

Even if none of them come true, if I work on something and live every day to the fullest, even if it is different from the picture I envisioned, the puzzle might be completed.

As I wrote in an article a few days ago, isn't a person's value determined by how much they can inspire others?

"You don't know what the meaning of a person's life was until right before they die"—that is the catchphrase of my mother, who is well over 80.

I feel these days that I should move my hands and head little by little to fill in the last piece.

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