Dear Friend,
One of the most terrifying drives of my life was only a few kilometers long, the short distance from my home on Yokota Air Base in Tokyo, Japan to the local shopping mall. It was the first time I ventured off-base in my new-to-me Japanese car, a gold Toyota FunCargo that felt about the size of the Hot Wheels my brothers and I played with when we were kids.
About a week before venturing out to the mall, I took the car on a spin around the parking lot next to my apartment building. Eventually, I drove around the base, making it safely to-and-from the Commissary for grocery runs. This might not seem like a big deal -- after all, I was 30 years old when we moved to Japan. The thing is, cars in Japan are outfitted with specs that are opposite U.S. cars. And also, drivers drive on the left side of the road.
There were a lot of reasons to stay on the base where I felt I had a bit of a safety bubble. I had heard a lot of stories about American drivers ripping the mirrors off of their cars on Japan's notoriously narrow roads, striking walls or even other vehicles. (I had also seen the evidence with several duct-taped mirrors in our parking lot.) In addition to narrow roads, there were the street signs I couldn’t read, the fact that I was sitting in what was usually the passenger seat to drive, and trying not to freak out every time I realized I was driving on the “wrong” side of the road. I knew of a couple military spouses who chose not to get their Japanese license and relied on others to drive them around for the 2-4 years they were stationed in Japan. That was not an appealing option. I knew if I wanted to live independently and leave my apartment building, I had to be brave and drive off base.
After a few successful Commissary runs, I found a new friend to tag along, strapped Josie into her car seat, said an extra prayer, and ventured out. I’m sure I was going way under the speed limit, inching too close to the edge of my lane, and braking unnecessarily. With sweaty palms and lots of adrenaline, we made it to the mall, and after lunch and exploring the shops, my friend helped me navigate back to the base.
I don’t remember how long it took, but eventually, just as I had done for more than 14 years in the U.S., I could drive on autopilot in Japan, not thinking about how strange it was to be on the left side of the road or wonder if the car would fit down an alley (we may have gotten stuck once, but it was in the minivan and my husband was driving). Something that once felt impossible became second nature. The thing that scared me ended up being the key to freedom as I explored a new country. Part of that freedom came by releasing the idea that driving on the opposite side of the road was wrong and embracing it simply as something different.
Even with confidence and practice, old habits creep in. Every now and then, I would flick on my windshield wipers instead of my turn signal, something we affectionately called the “Yokota Wave,” a sign that someone was a new driver on the base. Even more rare were the moments of panic; the sudden thought that I was going the wrong way or the urge to turn left instead of right. For those moments, I had a phrase to help me relax and focus: “Me in the middle.” No matter where I was driving, I, the driver, should always be in the middle of the road, right next to the dividing line. In the moments when old habits tried to sneak in and tell me I was doing something wrong, “Me in the middle” provided relief and encouragement that I did, in fact, know what I was doing.
Not long ago, the mere suggestion of riding her bike could bring my daughter to tears. Eventually, she felt ready to ride, but only with training wheels and with a foot heavy on the coaster brakes. With some coaxing, we got her to remove the training wheels. She let us hold on to the bike as she pedaled up and down the street. Finally, she got brave and took the plunge, pedaling and balancing completely on her own. Now she flies down the street, full of joy as her speed increases and she feels a breeze in her face. She races back up the slight hill to our house, where she turns and does another run.
Even if you are not living out your Tokyo Drift dreams like me or using wicked new bike skills like my daughter, perhaps there is something new going on in your life: becoming a parent for the first time or welcoming another child into your family, starting a new job or professional role. Maybe the pandemic forced you to try homeschooling your kids, working remotely, or both, and you’re figuring out what’s next. Maybe you used your extra time at home to try a new hobby (did anyone master sourdough or those pretty focaccia loaves?). Maybe what’s new for you is intentionally keeping your calendar empty or learning more about how to be antiracist.
Whatever it is, I encourage you to push through the hard parts. Take your spin in the proverbial parking lot, but don’t stay stuck there forever. Feel the scaries in your stomach but remember that the things that scare us might eventually be the things that make us feel most free.
Journal Prompts
When did you last do something new? How did it feel?
Is there something new you've been wanting to try? If so, can you make a plan now to finally give it a whirl?
Finish this sentence: I remember the first time I ______. See where that leads you.