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For some time now, I’ve been caught in this strange place where it feels like I’m thinking too much — about everything. This overthinking has creeped up on me over the last few years and it’s started to feel like I’ve changed as a person.
The other night my wife and I were looking through old videos and pictures of when we ran our coffee shop in Tokyo and I almost didn’t recognise the guy I was looking at. Even though it was me just 5 years ago.
One thing that I have found myself struggling with recently is simply allowing joy to happen without forcing it. In those videos we watched, one thing was certain; I wasn’t thinking about being happy in those moments; it was truly effortless. The videos and pictures we captured back then were full of dancing, laughing, singing, smiling—just living. One video was of me dancing around the kitchen to some music whilst washing up after a busy day in the cafe. It’s a silly and embarrassing video that won’t see the light of day, and it made me smile. But fast forward 5 years and I find it all too easy to become stuck in my own head, overanalysing every thought and feeling. Apparently in aid of trying to live a more examined life. The irony? This examination has left me feeling heavy, disconnected, and longing for a version of myself that didn’t carry this weight.
When I moved back to the UK I downloaded Sam Harris’ app Waking Up and started listening to it often. Guided meditations and conversations about living in the moment and learning to control the mind have been a main source of entertainment for the last four years. Now that it’s time to renew my subscription I paused and thought about my relationship with the app and whether it’s helping or hindering (oh god, yet more thinking!).
By using the app, I wanted to “wake up” and try to understand life and the human condition better, but what I’ve found is an ironic discomfort—a deeper awareness that has come to feel more like a burden than a gift as I struggle with overanalysing and overthinking everything. Marcus Aurelius wrote in his Meditations, “You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realise this, and you will find strength.” But I’m still waiting for that strength to arrive. Like a package from Amazon. Any day now… Maybe I should have paid for Prime?
“Just stop thinking!” I hear you all screaming. But sometimes it feels impossible to get out of my own way. It’s like my anxious mind has taken over and is too busy and active that I struggle to remember how to just be.
And I miss that. I miss how easy it used to feel. I miss not needing to think about how to let go and stop being so tense. I miss being able to experience joy without effort. Why does it feel like happiness is something I have to plan for now? Something to slot into my calendar when I have a free moment in between my meditation practice, journalling, reading more and going to the gym. Oh, and don’t forget to walk 10,000 steps a day and call your parents and friends often so you don’t feel lonely. And put in the hours and dedication to learn that new hobby. And get decent sleep during all this… And definitely don’t ever get stressed or you’ll knock more hours off your lifespan than if you just smoked a few cigarettes a day!
I think this is something many of us face at some point in life. We grow up, we become self-aware, and suddenly the lightness we used to feel is replaced by a weight we don’t quite understand.
I’ve been sitting with these thoughts and questions (can you tell it hasn’t helped?!) and I have come face to face with the idea that possibly life just moves in phases. Maybe that carefree version of me hasn’t been lost—maybe it’s just quietened under a few too many layers of responsibilities and a bit too much heavy handed self-awareness. Perhaps I’ve just lost touch with it temporarily. Marcus Aurelius also said, “The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts.” And I realise that lately I’ve let negative thoughts colour my soul a bit too much, forgetting that I was the one with the power to change it all along.
Perhaps letting go doesn’t have to be some monumental task. Maybe it’s about paying more attention to the small, unthinking moments of joy that still exist—the sunlight on my face in the morning, the sound of rain on the side of the boat, a song that makes me sway without realising. Mary Oliver’s poetry reminds me of that, too, especially in her gorgeous Wild Geese: “You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.”
I’m trying to remember that. To trust that joy doesn’t have to be perfect or Instagram-worthy and that I don’t need to overthink and ‘Pomodoro technique’ my way back to happiness. Maybe it’s about surrendering to the tides of life and letting joy find me again, in its own time. Working on moving into the next phase of life, in Kyoto, where overthinking is not the name of the game.
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I don’t have this all figured out yet. I’m still in the thick of it, still trying to quiet my mind. But if any of this resonates with you—if you’ve felt this weight too—I’d love to hear about it. Do you feel this too? Have you found a way to quiet your thoughts or reconnect with joy? I’d love to hear your story.
SJF 🍃