Not Every Slip Is A Terrible Fall

This morning, I woke up on instinct. Looking down at the clock, panic surged through me—I had overslept by an hour. But instead of spiraling, I took a deep breath and tried to think clearly. The guests were headed to Hakone today, and thankfully, the route passed right by my apartment. After getting the driver’s information, I was relieved to see it was someone I had worked with before. I sent him a quick message:

Hello, I’ve overslept my alarm. If possible, can you pick up the guests and meet me at Odawara Station?

He replied positively, giving me a bit of relief and just enough time to get ready. After a quick shower, I was out the door and on my way. It looked like I’d make it in time.

Usually, when I’m on a Tokaido train, I’m headed deep into Tokyo. But traveling in the opposite direction—toward mountains, rice fields, and the sea—brought a strange sense of calm. One of the most beautiful trains I’ve ever taken was a simple local line from Kanagawa to Shizuoka. I hopped off just short of that, at Odawara, ready to meet the guests.

Table of Contents

A Cloudy Day in Hakone

Though I usually enjoy Hakone, the weather today was moody. Still, we managed to visit a shrine, a cozy café, and a nice skylounge. The unfortunate reality of being a tour guide is that the weather is beyond my control. There is a brilliant anime movie where a girl can control the weather, but that’s a side tangent we won’t hit today. Personally, I love driving up to the Anest Skylounge and gazing out over Lake Ashi toward Mount Fuji. Today, though, the only thing we saw was thick cloud cover. The guests, feeling disappointed, decided to leave Hakone early and head to Kyoto. After some last-minute adjustments, I was able to change their train tickets and get things sorted.

As I sat in the hotel lobby doing mental math to figure out when I might get home, the hotel director approached me.

“I’m taking some colleagues to Odawara Station. I can drive you there if you’d like.”

I was genuinely grateful.

The Back of an Alphard

I found myself in the back of a Toyota Alphard—a VIP luxury van usually reserved for CEOs, politicians, or crime bosses. As a financially struggling tour guide, I almost felt like I was contaminating the seat with broke energy.

While we waited for the manager’s associates, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia. The last time I rode in an Alphard was when I worked for a CEO in Gunma. If he went out drinking, my floor manager and I would sometimes have to pick him up after his late-night adventures. That feels like a lifetime ago. It’s funny how far I’ve come—and how little I sometimes feel I’ve moved.

The manager’s associates eventually arrived, and I gave a small self-introduction in Japanese. We chatted in a mix of Japanglish as we cruised down Hakone’s touge roads. One gentleman in a suit—probably in his forties or fifties—had a friendly demeanor and good energy. The others likely made more in a year than I have in the last eight. But I still held my own, shared some stories, and even laughed about working for a country yankii, as the Japanese say.

It was one of those unexpected moments that reminded me why I love this country.

Showing Up Everyday

On the way home, I stopped at my favorite Starbucks. Well, not my favorite—it’s just the most convenient. Honestly, that Bamiyan near my apartment might be my current favorite restaurant.

Starbucks does have one great thing going for it, though: big counter seats with lots of space. After ordering, I sat down and pulled out my sketchpad. I still dream of going to art school, so I’m trying to take my art more seriously.

Lately, I’ve been turning my train commutes into development time. When I’m not catching up on sleep, I’m reading or studying Japanese. One of the books I’ve been working through is Mamba Mentality: How I Play. . His relentless attention to detail and love for the game has reignited something in me—a willingness to try. A desire to close the gap between where I am and where my potential can take me.

Still Standing, Still Walking, Still Striving

My sister recently sent me a TikTok—yes, I know—where an artist talked about how everyone flirts with quitting. The difference lies in who keeps going when no one’s watching. Who keeps experimenting. Who keeps showing up.

We often think of Kobe’s mindset as pure competitiveness, but what really matters is the discipline to show up, even when the results are ugly. To keep making art, writing blogs, taking photos, recording videos—even when most of it is bad—until something clicks.

So I drew. I wanted to take the easy route and just sketch an anime girl so I could feel good about myself. Instead, I labored through a ¾ angle of a Nissan 180SX.

Online Classes and Development

I’ve been taking a class through LinkedIn Learning.One of the exercises involves upside-down drawing. I set myself a challenge: complete five of these before moving on. The idea is to stop seeing objects as symbols and start seeing them as shapes, lines, and proportions.

I started the 180SX upside-down, but halfway through, I got frustrated and flipped it. That decision showed in the final result—the car looks slightly too tall and kind of cute. I could lean into it stylistically, but right now, I’m working on technical skills. I left myself notes on what to improve. One thing Kobe taught me is to work on your weaknesses.

Mistakes aren’t failures—they’re feedback. to improve on. One of the things I got from Kobe is that you should work on your weaknesses. Making a mental note on the image itself is helpful for me because it allows me to turn my failures and shortcomings into strenghts.