Dear you, my friends who read!
Introduction: A love letter in two directions
Some people travel to Japan for its famous anime and manga culture, for its heartfelt sceneries, or just a promise to their inner child: “I will come to Japan to fullfill my childhood dream”. For me, it started with love — an unexpected, tender, and utterly life-changing. I met a Japanese man in summer 2023, whose presence felt like sunrise—warm, familiar, and healing, even too intensed that he has triggered something deep within me. Through him, I’ve learned that love isn’t just romance; I uncovered a piece of myself that I never knew I had and that piece was missing for a long long time. As if I had always belonged to this land, as if every single moment had been leading me to go back to this land – my 2nd mother land beside Vietnam. Japan is where tradition intertwines with modernity. The decision to move here wasn’t made superficially. I was driven by a feeling I couldn’t never fully explain: that Japan was calling me home, urging me to embrace not only its beauty but the richness of history, the unique culture, Shinto and Shugendo, and also the love for this land I found within me. This journey would not just be about just the places; it would be about transformation, growth, and an exploration of the heart that travels through time and space.
Part I: A Soul’s memory and recognition of Japan
The 1st moment I set foot on Japanese soil, there came a strange but strong sense of déjà vu. I still recalled thay winter morning of 2018 when I came to Zojoji, the way incense lingered in the air in the main hall, the etiquette of silence in public places—none of it felt foreign. I wasn’t just discovering a new culture, I was reuniting with all of my former selves that had lived and died here through history. People often speak of “past lives” in metaphors. I know for sure that I do believe in literal reincarnation, I also believe in soul memory—and something in my soul recognized Japan deeply. Even the language, though difficult at first, felt like poetry that my heart already knew. There were places I had never been, but that felt like home. There were vivid scenes and dreams from the past that overwrote to to what I saw.
Part II: The first year
Life in Japan wasn’t always magical, wasn’t always rainbow and butterflies. I’ve been living here for almost a year and that first year tested me in ways I never expected. There were cultural misunderstandings, language barriers, isolation, loneliness moments. I have tried to start doing new things, and failed, it’s an endless loop of trying and failing, and how to adapt this new life. I got lost mqny times— on Tokyo’s train lines, at Ikebukuro and Shinjuku station, and I lost within myself. But I grew, slowly, day by day. There were mornings when I would step outside and even the smell of ginko trees or the smile of those little kids lived nearby, those make something inside me calm. I love to visit a local shrine and sit in silence to meditate or even listen to the voices of those spirits speaking around me, letting the sacred stillness remind me I wasn’t alone. There were little wins too: the first time I guided a foreigner to do “nirei – nihakushu – ichirei” (二礼、二拍手、ー礼), the first time someone called me “yujin” (a closed friend), and the day I finally understood that “gaman”—endurance with grace—is a strength, not a burden.
Part III: The love that led me here – The love that kept me going
The man who brought me here became my doorway to something greater. He is always the greatest love of my life – after God. I’m more into Shintoism and Shinto’s deities are who I workship. Through him, I learned to see Japan not only through a tourist’s eyes, but through a lover’s heart. He has taught me so much about the Japanese heart and bushidou through his desire and dedication to his work, from the small but lively alleys in Sangenjaya where people enjoy their time after work, to the quiet pride in being able to do things without words. But love—real love — unconditional love isn’t always simple. There were moments of doubt, pains and solitude. I had to learn not only how to love another person, but how to love myself uncertainty. Japan gave me both. It broke me, rebuilt me and made me who I am right now. I still have a lot to learn, I still have to be broken in order to be rebuilt into a better version, but I am who I am, and who I am is someone who never gives up. Who I am is someone who always win.
Conclusion: Just a beginning, not an end
Now, a year later, I can see this journey is more than just relocation or starting a new life in a foreign country. It’s a spiritual homecoming. I came to Japan because I fell in love, but what I found was far more than one person or one place. I found the pieces of myself I didn’t know were missing. This is just the beginning of so many good things that wait for me.
Letters from Hio 