#75 Diary of Opening the Notebook Library Annex 10: A Letter from Myself One Year Ago, and a Visit from a Notebook Collector
Friday, June 27, 2025
It's hot. Commuting by bicycle is tough.
I wear a shade hat I bought at Workman and sunglasses, which makes me look like I don't want to see anyone, but it can't be helped.
After finishing my morning work at the school, I returned home to take a shower. When I checked the mailbox, a letter I had written to myself a year ago at "Jiyucho" had arrived! Suppressing my excitement, I put the envelope in my backpack, got back on my bike, and headed to the annex.
I turned on the air conditioner at the annex and opened the envelope from "Jiyucho" while waiting for the room to cool down.
That's right, a year ago I was worried about my declining eyesight and was considering whether or not to undergo surgery to implant multifocal intraocular lenses. Now, I can see both near and far, and I live a life without needing glasses. I had to take out a loan and cancel my insurance to pay for the high cost, but considering the rest of my life, I think it was a good purchase.
What surprised me most was that the concept of running a notebook library was already in my mind a year ago. It wasn't on my 2025 to-do list, so I felt like I had started thinking about it some time after the year began. But actually, I had been thinking about it since a year ago.
It must have been at the level of a fantasy back then, but a year later, the property has been decided, and I am moving forward concretely toward the opening. I didn't think about it every day after writing it down, and I had completely forgotten about it, but maybe something was triggered the moment I wrote it.
The experience at "Jiyucho" was so enriching that I gave it as a birthday present to my daughter last year.
When you secure time and a place to face yourself, miracles like this happen sometimes. That's why writing things down and leaving them behind is interesting.
In the evening, Mr. Shirado, a notebook collector, came to preview the annex. He had business in Zushi, so he stopped by on his way back.
First, I had him look at my prized stacking shelves.
Then, I asked for his frank opinion on things like how he felt about the distance from the station (is it close? far?), whether the space felt like a place where one could relax, and if the number of seats was appropriate.
You can reach the annex by walking straight along the tracks from Shonandai Station, but he commented that because it's not a busy street, there's no extra information coming in, which makes it feel like you can prepare your mind. Is that how a first-time visitor feels about the path I walk every day without thinking?
It was fresh and very grateful to receive feedback from a perspective I didn't have.
