People forget, sooner or later, what actually matters. That it is really very simple, and that both the light and the dark of this world are teaching you something that matters, in a life.
“The Peking to Paris Motor Challenge! 14,000 km, a first for a Japanese woman” — I found the largest goal of my life, and I am driving towards it.
The road towards something I have never done before comes with money worries, illness, prejudice against my own values, and moments close to being crushed under the walls of reality.
Even so, what keeps me from breaking, from giving up, is the warm support and words I receive from people.
Today too, a conversation with an old friend reminded me of something that matters.
The first thing my friend said, straight out, was: “Your life is worth an incredible amount, isn’t it — born ill as a child, laid out like a fish on the chopping board, and now a race driver running the whole world. What matters isn’t the result — it’s living the whole thing, wholeheartedly, with everything you’ve got.”
… That’s right. My life is worth something.
From a fish on the chopping board to driving the world
I was born with a malformation of the internal organs, spent my early childhood in hospital, and once I was out in the world I was told I had no common sense, that I was unfit for society — and I lived wondering what could possibly be fun about a life like that. Exactly a fish on the chopping board.
But wanting to live as myself, I broke my own shell open, one action, one challenge at a time.
Turning the impossible into the possible sometimes needed thinking and acting wildly different from other people. There has been plenty of prejudice, plenty of not being understood, along that road.
But I keep remembering the one thing that matters most in this life.
People were born to be happy
What you do is not what matters. What genuinely matters is enjoying being alive.
A life is fine lived a little carelessly
There are words like sloppy or careless, and plenty of people probably hear them as negative — irresponsible, giving up.
But I think of them positively instead — “a good degree”, “moderate” — in other words, the right balance.
When you eat something delicious, do you always think hard about every step of the cooking and every ingredient? Enjoying the meal, and the memory of having eaten it, matters far more.
Logic and careful thinking matter too, but I feel this more instinctive way of thinking is what actually lets me enjoy a meal.
Enjoy the light and the dark both
People carry all sorts of values, and light and dark both exist inside relationships between people. Which is why people get hurt by other people’s words, and hearts ache when we cannot accept each other.
Sweet, sweet oshiruko is delicious, isn’t it? And when you want to make it taste even sweeter and better, you would think to add more sugar — but the actual secret ingredient is the opposite of sugar: salt.
Thinking of it as two things that seem to clash while actually helping each other, I came to feel that I can enjoy both the people who support me and the people who do not, and move forward thinking freely, as myself.
When a critical comment comes in, I have taken to deciding, on my own authority, “ah, this person is cheering me on incredibly hard”, and laughing about it (laughs).
Not treating the result as everything
There will surely be plenty more difficulty on the road to this rally. What matters is enjoying it, so the goal may simply be standing on the start line and reaching the finish safely — but I mean to go forward laughing carelessly, and seriously, both at once.
Enjoy the whole thing, wholeheartedly, with everything you have!
I once got a comment on my race reports: “how can you keep smiling when it’s this hard?”
It is true my heart has been genuinely worn ragged at times, I remember that clearly — but I think what was always there was enjoying everything, not chasing the result.
The scenery I actually saw, seen with my own living eyes, stays with me. And that is enough.