The Joke of Goals
Life always seems to mess with you. No goal? You’re restless. Have a goal? Still restless. It’s like standing at Naminoue Beach—whether the tide is coming in or going out, you’re getting splashed anyway.
Here’s the thing: people are basically walking batteries. We wake up charged, buzzing with energy. If we don’t release it, it leaks out sideways—into stress, doom-scrolling, or yelling at the microwave when your goya champuru is still cold in the middle. And if you dump all that energy into one massive obsession—“I’ll be rich this year,” “I’ll crush it on Instagram,” “I’ll be the best sanshin player in Okinawa”—it’s like trying to stuff the entire East China Sea through a straw. No wonder you feel stuck.
The Kid Problem We Never Outgrow
Look at kids. They want something, they scream, and boom—instant response. It’s like Amazon Prime, but with more tears. The problem? We grow up and keep expecting life to work that way. We see a big dream—start a shop, write a book, quit a job that drains us—and we want it now. But Okinawa has a different rhythm. Here, even the coral reefs are built slowly, piece by piece, wave after wave.
Old Wisdom on the Climb
That’s where the old wisdom comes in. Wang Yangming, a philosopher who influenced Ryukyu thought, once told his students while climbing a mountain: “The mountain may be ten thousand ren high, but you climb it one step at a time.” It’s the same lesson you get watching hikers struggle up Mount Yonaha—some people panic at the summit, freeze halfway, and forget the only way forward is one steady step.
Everyone Blooms in Their Own Season
It’s the same with life. You don’t compare your timing with your neighbor’s. The deigo flowers burst red in spring, but the sturdy pine stays green year-round. Your friend might buy an ocean-view house, another might launch their brand at the Chatan depot, while you’re still sketching ideas in a café. So what? Every bloom has its season. Shouting at the soil doesn’t make carrots grow faster, and stomping your feet won’t make Orion beer brew overnight.
The Cure Is Always Action
Here’s the part nobody likes: you can’t think your way out of anxiety. You act your way out. Overthinking is like sitting through a typhoon forecast for twelve hours straight—you’re spinning in circles, but nothing gets done. Action is the cure. Do something. Sweep your tatami. Fold laundry. Sketch that design. Send one email. Even small moves are like beating the taiko drum at Eisa—one beat at a time keeps the whole dance moving.
The Real Point of the Mountain
And that’s the real Okinawan truth: the mountain isn’t the enemy, and the summit isn’t the prize. The climb is where the magic happens. Shuri Castle was rebuilt stone by stone after fire and war. Festivals come alive not from one performance but from years of practice by local youth groups. Even the shoreline of Zanpa Cape was carved slowly by relentless waves. Everything worth anything here was built step by step.
The Treasure Is the Journey
So yeah, dream big. But live small—today, right now, this one step. Don’t obsess over the peak. Peaks are overrated anyway. The real treasure (nuchi du takara, as the elders say) is who you become on the way up.
One step at a time, my friends. Unless you’ve got a Shisa ready to carry you to the top, it’s the only way.