12/4/2025 Ami
Since starting my full-time job, I’ve found myself moving further and further away from exercise. I kept thinking, “This really isn’t good,” but I just couldn’t seem to get myself moving. Then one day, as an early riser, I had the idea: Why not walk just one station on my way to work? I’ve always liked taking walks, and in Tokyo, the distance between stations isn’t too bad. So I began doing it about once a week.
That’s when I made a small but moving discovery.
On the way to work, there’s a railway crossing known for never opening. Once the bell starts ringing and the barriers come down, they rarely come back up anytime soon. Four sets of tracks stretch across the road, and just as one train passes by on the near track, another comes from the far side. When that one goes, another follows on the second track from the front—and so on, endlessly it seems. It’s not that I’m in a particular hurry, but I often find myself getting restless, wondering, “When will this ever open?”
Still, on days when I approach the crossing and it’s open without delay, I can’t help but think, “Today’s going to be a good day.”
One morning, the usual crossing bell began to ring, and the barriers came down. I stood waiting, watching the trains go by, when I noticed a small family across the street—a father, a mother, and a little boy who looked to be in early elementary school.
The boy clearly loved trains. He pointed excitedly at the passing cars and waved at them with delight. I thought to myself, This must be the perfect spot for him. I found his excitement charming and quietly smiled to myself.
After four trains had passed, a fifth one approached. As it neared, the boy waved again—and to my surprise, the train driver waved back. The boy jumped up and down with joy, absolutely beaming. Watching this made me feel happy too, as if some of that joy had brushed off on me.
When that train finally passed and the barriers lifted, it felt like my steps were a little lighter than usual. What’s normally a weary walk across the tracks felt different that day—warmer somehow.
It was just a small moment between a boy and a train driver, two strangers whose lives happened to meet for a second. But watching it lifted my spirits. And I imagine, in that moment, the boy may have found his dream—to become a train driver himself one day.
There are times when we feel rushed or vaguely uneasy, like we have to be doing something, but we’re not quite sure what. And sometimes, no matter how hard we try, things just don’t go the way we want them to.
In those moments, maybe it’s okay to pause for a bit—to gently look inward, and see where our heart is resting.
That quiet morning at the crossing reminded me of that.