The childhood friend who told me 'don't quit your job' was the 'headwind' I needed to take flight.

Hello, I am Mamoru Memeto.
This time, I'd like to change things up a bit and talk about a friend.

Do you have a childhood friend?

In this season of new beginnings that is April, I would like to write about a childhood friend who continues to have a major influence on my life.

The only person who sees through my vanity and posturing

I met him back in elementary school.
We lived in the same neighborhood, but our relationship was limited to talking if we happened to see each other on the way home.

We didn't become truly close until junior high.
It started when we ended up at the same slightly unusual private tutoring school, where a teacher sat in the middle of desks arranged in a square, and middle and high school students studied different subjects together.

On the way to and from school, we often talked about our hobbies, school, and relationships.
Although we went to different high schools, we went to that tutoring school together twice a week for four years, from my second year of junior high to my third year of high school.

As an aside, for some reason he looks exactly like Daniel Radcliffe from the Harry Potter movies, and it's a fond memory of mine that when we went to the movie theater together, it caused a stir among the people around us (laughs).

After I left my hometown, we settled into the relationship of "typical childhood friends" who meet up occasionally when I visit home.

However, things are different when I'm with him. No matter how much I try to act cool, I get shut down with,
What are you talking about, Memeto? (laughs). As you become an adult, people who treat you like that disappear from your life, so I found it strangely comforting.

The unconscious lid that said, 'That's your limit'

There was one period when my relationship with him became distant.

It happened when I confided in him at the peak of my enthusiasm, saying, "I'm thinking of going to graduate school to get an MBA while I work."

"You can't go to graduate school while working. You only got into that company by luck, so just be satisfied with that."

I'm sure he didn't mean any harm.
He's the type who just says what's on his mind and forgets he even said it by the time you meet again.

But I was young, so I turned bright red and fought back, and then I cut off contact with him.

As a result, I went to graduate school out of sheer stubbornness.
I worked strictly until 7:00 PM on weekdays, then ran to catch the train for my 8:00 PM lecture. It would end around 10:00 PM, and I would finish my assignments in the 24-hour graduate student room until the last train.

Even my weekends, which should have been for rest, were packed with lectures from morning until evening, and I would head straight to a drinking party at night—looking back, it was an abnormal level of intensity.
I continued that life for two years.

Every time I felt like giving up, his face would come to mind.

"It makes me angry just thinking about it. I'll definitely graduate and prove him wrong."

Those unconscious words he let slip became the intense driving force that pushed me forward.

I now realize that the reason for that anger was because I felt like he had put a lid on my potential.

The words, "You're lucky, so just be satisfied with where you are now," were in direct opposition to the passion I felt at the time.
Perhaps that is exactly why it lit the fuse.

That is why it may have lit the fuse.

The day my heart melted after being confronted with society's 'correct' path

Since they had attended my wedding, we kept in touch through New Year's cards. Some time after I returned to my hometown, I received a message from him one day.

At that time, I was suffering from an illness and wasn't in a state to meet anyone, so I didn't make excuses and honestly replied, "I'm taking a career break for this reason."

Then, I learned that he had also been suffering from the same illness while we were out of touch, and he showed his concern by saying, "Are you okay? Let's go get something to eat."

After that, he made sure to contact me at least once a month.
About half a year passed, my health recovered a little, and we met again for the first time in a while.

When I told him, "After sorting through various things, I might retire early from the company and start my own business," he looked terribly lonely and said this.

"I see. I wish we had met sooner. I was going to tell you not to quit your job. Since you're at such a great company, I think you should endure, endure, and keep enduring."

…Ah, I knew he would say that (laughs).

Strangely, this time, I felt no anger at all.

Rather, my heart, which had been frozen due to my illness, began to melt,
and I felt something bubbling up inside me.

Why didn't I get angry this time?

When I was in graduate school, I was desperate to "go higher within the environment I was in," so I felt frustrated when that was flatly denied.

But this time, when I heard the words, "Enduring at a big company is the right answer," I realized that I had a clear intention within myself that I would "never go back there again."

The American entrepreneur who popularized the automobile,
Henry Ford, left behind these words:

"Airplanes take off against the wind, not with it."

His words, spoken without malice and out of genuine concern, ironically showed me the current position of my resolve more clearly than anything else could have.

The stronger the headwind, the more you know where you are heading.
Once your current position is set, all that's left is to decide how to fly.

From there, I began to move.

Since that reunion, I began to think concretely about how to fly after quitting the company.
And at the end of this March, I retired from the company I had worked at for many years and truly stepped off the beaten path.

This event also became the starting point for how the content of my note gradually shifted from introspection and stories to something else.

Rather than being gently pushed forward by pleasant words, being struck head-on and having a headwind blown at me helped define the intensity of the energy I needed to output.

When making big life decisions, it is a blessing to have someone who doesn't just gently push you from behind, but confronts you head-on. I am grateful for that.

I intend to continue cherishing my connection with him.

And I hope that the new encounters this April will become the 'connections' that show you the path you should take.