Yesterday was one of those beautifully layered days that only Japan seems able to create. I started the morning hiking with Tom Kobayashi, then met Kouji Miki at Engakuji for a long, thoughtful conversation about Zen, and ended the day with ohaka‑mairi at my husband’s family grave. Each person held a different piece of my Japan story, and somehow the entire day unfolded with a sense of gentle alignment.

Returning to Kita‑Kamakura, where my husband and I lived in my mother‑in‑law’s house before moving to San Francisco, felt bittersweet. Seeing the house again brought back early‑marriage memories, the quiet routines we built, and the feeling of being held by a place that shaped the beginning of our family life. It felt like revisiting an old chapter with gratitude rather than longing.

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In Japan the changing seasons are a big deal, and I really appreciate how I felt encouraged to slow down and enjoy nature while I lived there. I got into the habit of appreciating nature and whatever what was in bloom during my daily walks to and from the station.