Thanksgiving Reflections: Grateful for the Journey

Thanksgiving is next week, and I keep thinking about Japan. I know I'll be talking about this trip for a while, but some experiences leave a mark that way.

There were things I noticed that stuck with me in ways I didn't expect. Small children riding the subway alone, walking to school in the early morning dark. No one thought twice about it. The trust built into everyday life there was something I'd never witnessed before. It made me reconsider what safety can look like when a whole society decides to protect it.

The contradictions fascinated me too. Japan is both the quietest and loudest place I've ever been. A temple garden where you can hear your own breath. Then you turn a corner in Shibuya and you're swallowed by neon, voices, music bleeding from storefronts, visual chaos that somehow works. Minimalist tea ceremonies in the morning, maximalist arcades at night. Traditional wooden architecture next to buildings covered in anime characters and flashing lights. It all coexists without apology.

The hospitality was ceremonial in the best way. Every interaction felt intentional. The way someone handed you change with both hands. The small bow when you entered a shop. It wasn't performative, it was just how things were done, and it made you feel seen. And yes, the washlets. I'm not above admitting that I'm grateful for heated toilet seats and the realization that we've been doing bathrooms wrong this whole time.

I'm grateful for the food. Not just the precision of it or the freshness, but the way every meal felt like someone cared about what they were making. A bowl of ramen at a tiny counter. Sushi that tasted like the ocean. Matcha so good it reset my understanding of what matcha could be.

Travel has this way of staying with you long after you've unpacked. It's not just the photos or the souvenirs. It's the surprise of discovering that the world works differently somewhere else, and that difference expands something in you. The gift of time slowing down. The calm that comes from being a beginner again, fumbling through a language, reading a map wrong, asking for help.

As Thanksgiving gets closer, I keep coming back to this: gratitude for places and people that feel like home, for a world that's endlessly beautiful to explore, for experiences that transform. I'm thankful for the chance to step outside my routine and see what else is possible. For moments that remind you to pay attention. For all of it.

I'm thankful for the journey. And I'm thankful I get to keep revisiting it, even from home. The holidays mean different things to different people. Wherever this season finds you, I hope you discover your own moments of calm and joy. Happy Thanksgiving to those celebrating. And to everyone else, may you find your own ichigo ichie - those beautiful moments worth holding close.