A Detailed Life

There was never a dull moment in our stay in Japan. Sometimes we would walk three kilometers, sometimes we would roam and surprise ourselves that we already reached the harbour, sometimes we’d eat at a yummy Udon restaurant, sometimes we’d eat our bento at the campus garden, sometimes I would take a 1.8 Kilometer walk with a friend along a highway while laughing hysterically through it.

Though we have a routine, there was nothing ordinary with how we spent our days. I distinctly remember the first time we were allowed by our professors to roam on our own, and how triumphant we felt after we reached the city harbor by accident that we had fine dining for dinner as a reward. I would always smile when I remember being on our way back from the Caterpillar factory. We were extremely tired from all the run-walk-jog, we were talking about something I can’t recall and we couldn’t stop laughing - we were laughing for about 10 minutes straight. There was also this one afternoon where I ate at a sushi conveyor belt restaurant and ordered every single thing I wanted to eat. I also remember the surreal feeling of having an artist draw me and the vulnerability it demanded. I was so taken aback when I saw the final product because it’s as if the artist saw through me.

These simple joys are what touches me most when looking back at my memories of Japan. It was easy to get lost in the hustle and bustle of the fast-paced life we led, but I always had to remind myself to hold on to the little things. The sporadic tickles of emotion, the slight bump on the road, the small gestures otherwise lost in this overwhelming spring of ventures. I realized that bliss isn’t a very hard thing to come by; it isn’t a treasure hunt or an extravagantly priced possession,as a matter of fact I would go as far as saying that it cannot be bought at all.

This is what I have to remind myself of even as I go back to the Philippines, especially when I try too hard searching for happiness: to always look closer for God is in the details.