Sakamichi

It came to me by chance, truly unexpected. Like any other day, I was listening to music on YouTube, usually just background music from Ghibli. By chance, I noticed a recommendation from The First Take on the right side of the screen. I glanced at it and came across a beautiful, probably forgotten song: 陽のあたる坂道 (Hi No Ataru Sakamichi, Slope in the Sun). Out of nowhere, it just clicked.
When I heard it, feelings of sadness, happiness, hope, and regret suddenly came rushing over me. It might sound like an exaggeration, but that is exactly what happened at that moment: a sudden outpouring of emotion.
Over the past few years, I began seriously learning Japanese, to the point where I can now understand lyrics without using a dictionary. The lyrics and melody resonated inside me in a way I have rarely felt before. The song is an encouraging anthem about growing up, facing life's hardships, and holding onto cherished memories.
Back in my teenage days, I always tried to just go with the flow. The high school I attended and the diploma program I enrolled in were choices mostly made for me, either by my parents or simply by following what was popular at the time. Being guided by parents when facing a problem is normal. But that shift toward independence happened when I moved away to pursue my diploma. I had to face problems alone, challenges involving love, money, or a combination of both, that I couldn't share with anyone else.
In life, there will always be a slope (坂道, Sakamichi), a mountain of problems. In the past, we had our parents or friends to guide us and push us up that slope. However, there comes a time when we have to push ourselves forward. As we grow up, those slopes start to feel different. A problem from our teenage days feels much easier to solve today, mainly because we have accumulated experience with it. While our younger selves were experiencing things for the first time, as adults, we have likely faced many variations of the same issue.
Heartbreak, financial struggles, or a mountain of assignments all become our lifelong assets in the end. Once we manage to solve (or fail to solve) a problem, we overcome them, and the problem crystallizes into an asset. Those assets, in turn, help us navigate future slopes, whether that asset is food, a climbing rope, or maybe developed running skills.
The challenges on the slope are always changing. The incline at the beginning might only be 15 or 20 degrees, but it gradually increases to 70 or 80 degrees. How do we handle that? The answer isn't always to just keep walking. Sometimes you need to climb using your rope. Sometimes you need to run downhill and take cover because there’s a wild boar charging at you (looking at you, deadlines!). Other times, on calmer days, you can walk slowly and appreciate the scenery as it turns into a beautiful autumn.
As we mature into adults, our assets start to pile up. However, having a lot of assets doesn't mean the path becomes easy. Some assets may need to be discarded because they become a burden (yes, from an accounting perspective, an asset can turn into a liability). Assets will either help you or weigh you down. Who needs a skateboard when climbing uphill?
Maybe, adulthood is learning which assets to keep and use, and which ones to let go of. That is probably why our teenage problems look so small compared to what we face today: the slope itself becomes easier to navigate when you carry the right assets.
In the end, the slope is always present in life. Don't forget to bring your assets, your camera, your food, or the companions you meet along the way, to enjoy the view. Look back to see how far and high you have come, take a little break, and appreciate it before you keep climbing those 坂道 again.