I go to meet my past self from that day

~Listening to a certain song reminded me of my childhood~

Budou Spark's lighthearted song and lyrics that remind me of what is precious.

As I listened to it,
an old drawer deep in my heart opened softly.

When I was a child,
I was a kid who loved drawing manga and writing stories.

I didn't have many toys,
and I didn't have a game console.

The TV was always showing baseball games.

If I tried to change the channel to watch anime, I would get scolded. lol

Perhaps that is why.

Time spent gazing blankly at the sky

White paper and a notebook

If I had a pencil,
that was all I needed.

The time I spent drawing manga and writing stories was the happiest time of all.

But every time my parents found me, what would rain down on me was,

Study!

Those words.

Maybe that's just a typical Showa-era thing.

My parents and relatives all lived in an atmosphere where studying was the most important thing.

Following the crowd, in the same direction
Even while feeling a sense of discomfort,
into that atmosphere,
and into the flow of society,
I too was gradually swallowed up.

Busy days.
Dizzying days.

Before I knew it, the stories I loved so much had been quietly tucked away into the back of my desk drawer.

──And then, several decades passed.

Around the time I started to cherish my time alone, I encountered the warm world of note.

As I read many works,

“Everyone starts out writing with a nervous heart.”

The moment I was able to think that,

“I will try writing again, too.”

Such a feeling welled up within me naturally.

Before I knew it, I had reached an age where I began to be conscious of my sixties.

Even so, when I am writing stories like this,

I feel grateful as time passes by in the blink of an eye, surprisingly quickly.

Gentle time.
Kind and warm people.
Threads being spun in a relaxed way.

Receiving advice from professionals I would never have met in my daily life,
worlds I didn't know,
different ways of thinking and perspectives,
encountering music,
and feeling my interest piqued by the beauty of those worldviews.

Through my work, my own perspective and wonderful connections have expanded as well.

Such days still feel like a dream to me even now.

That is why I tell my children,
“We should be grateful every day.”
That is what I tell them.

Polishing my work over and over again,
and writing new stories little by little.

My pace is slow,
but that is also the way I walk, true to who I am now.

Each time I grow older,

the way I see the world has changed little by little.

Things that looked so big when I was a child,

Now, I see the scenery differently.

The story I tucked away in my desk drawer that day.

After decades have passed,
I am now writing the continuation of it.

There is surely no such thing
as a dream that is too late.

The time spent writing itself
is the most precious time for me.

When I look back suddenly,
the little me from that day was there.

The me from back then,
who loved stories so much.

That child looked at the current me,
and said with a beaming smile,

"I'm so glad you're able to write again!"

I couldn't help but smile too.

It's not that I want to go back to the past.

Right now, in this moment.

The fact that I am able to write stories like this.

That alone fills me with gratitude.

The many threads that have been spun.

And the threads I will spin from here on.


Right here, right now,
with love and gratitude.

Thank you so much for reading.

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