In 2026, my motto is simple: Go slow.
This may sound almost contradictory to who I’ve been for most of my life. I’ve always valued productivity, efficiency, and optimization. I like things to run smoothly. I like to be prepared. I like to make good use of time. Those qualities are still part of me — and honestly, I don’t want to lose them.
But living in Japan amplifies this mindset. Everything here runs on time. Trains and buses operate by the minute, and even a one-minute delay is formally announced. When you meet someone, you can calculate your arrival time almost perfectly, and being late isn’t excused by circumstances — it’s simply seen as careless. So I trained myself to arrive just one minute early: not late, but also not “wasting” time.
That habit stayed with me for years.
Recently, though, I started to question it. Not the productivity itself — I still love being efficient — but the constant tightness around time. The subtle tension of rushing. The feeling of always being on the edge of the schedule. I realized I don’t actually need to live that way anymore.
So this year, I decided to slow down.
If I take an earlier train, I don’t need to walk fast. I don’t need to watch the clock. I can arrive calmly, breathe more easily, and feel settled before I even begin whatever comes next. That small shift creates space — not just physical space, but mental space. And that’s what I feel I need most right now.
January is almost over. Some days, I did extremely well. Other days, I slipped right back into rushing. But that’s fine. This isn’t about being perfect. It’s about keeping this intention in mind throughout the year and noticing how it changes the way I feel.
At the end of 2026, I’d like to look back and see what slowing down made room for.