Time travel - backward and forward.

A few Sundays ago, during our opening hours, I briefly joined Emil's conversation with another customer at our analogue table. The conversation was about turning 30, and I hopped into their conversation candidly by saying, “Well, 30s were good, but really 40s are even better, and I honestly can’t wait to turn 50 in a few years.” The customer followed up with a question, “Was there any theme to your 30’s?” I paused, thought for a few seconds, and replied, “Can I get back to you about this later?” as another customer pulled me away to check out her items at the register.

I’ve been thinking about the question since that day, reflecting on the past few decades. My path has been unusual since I moved from Japan to the U.S. at 16, when I spoke very little English. It felt like it took me many years of my 20s just to figure out how to function here as a young adult, while exploring which career I was excited to pursue. Eventually, I settled on studying and receiving a degree in design. I remember so many days and nights spent trying to complete an enormous number of design assignments that felt impossible to finish. This was also when I began challenging the status quo of what was actually expected. It started with asking a question about one assignment at school, and I eventually ended up recalibrating and crafting an entire senior-year curriculum for myself so I could spend more time following my passion, which was always about “people”. I was fascinated by people’s thought process, using the products we were designing, rather than designing actual “things”. Now I recall all the memories from that time; so many people around me said I would NEVER find a job in design if I didn’t course-correct and follow the established curriculum. From my perspective, there were ALREADY so many alumni struggling to find jobs in design due to its competitiveness and the downspiraling economy at the time. I was like, “Why not pursue what fills my heart the most if the chance of finding a job is already slim? Following the same path as my classmates will not guarantee my future success in the industry. If I end up not finding a job in design, at least I know I spent these intense school years learning about something that truly interested me”. I kind of smile at my younger self, because not much of the attitude has changed. I never enjoyed taking external risks and still don’t, but I have always felt comfortable walking a metaphorical unpaved path.

Well. I found a job in design after graduation as a design and trend researcher. I worked at a couple of design consultancies under that job title, and also freelanced. But within a few years, I realized that I was after this amazing, shiny job at a design company to prove myself and others who questioned “if” I was going to be able to make it in this industry. When the realization hit right at the cusp of turning 30, I started asking myself, “Then what?”

My 30s took a big shift from a career-driven job to quitting it, and then creating Baum-kuchen in our garage from scratch, and I also became a parent. The decade was full of intentional moments and choices, and lifework that filled my heart as a mom to both my kids and Baum-kuchen. Maybe because I cleared some cobwebs of conditioned societal expectations about work and career, I started to see another layer of inner challenges that I couldn’t just shake off. Finally, I found a therapist I could work with at the dawn of turning 40, and she told me that I needed to work through Complex Grief Disorder, which I was experiencing from losing my little brother at a young age. I think back to those days, weeks, and months of difficult times in and out of the therapist's office. On the one hand, I am so grateful to have passed through that phase of my life, and on the other, I am in awe of the bravery of my younger self that showed up to those sessions. “Healing” sounds so ethereal, but wow. There was really nothing ethereal about it in my personal experience. On the contrary, it was such a messy, chaotic, and heart-ripping process. If I were to name my 30s, maybe I might call it “the brave beginning of a mending” for now.

The inner journey continued to take a deeper turn in my 40s. It’s like once I learned how to peel one layer that had been holding me back for so many years, keeping me stagnant, and experienced how good it felt to be a little closer to an authentic self, I couldn’t stop peeling more layers. But today, my inner journeying no longer feels dark and helpless; it feels curious and exciting. More and more, I find myself making decisions that align with my values, and I’m comfortable with my imperfect self and having really nothing more to prove to the world than just being who I am. My voice is true and authentic, and my smiles are genuine. Recently, I had a conversation with other parents about how our kids are growing up and the bittersweetness of sending them off to college soon. I went along with the narrative for a while, nodding in agreement, and I know I will definitely miss them once they are more independent and can pursue their own lives without us around all the time. But at the same time, I couldn’t help feeling the burst of excitement for what my next era in the 50s as an “empty nester” with Frido will hold. I’m grateful for our togetherness today as a family, and I am also incredibly excited for…, well…, for myself as I grow older. The image that comes to my mind is of these invisible wings on my back. I have enjoyed using my wings to keep our kiddoes safe and nurtured in the nest. When our family dynamics change in the near future, I look forward to spreading them wide again and soaring through the sky.

As I contemplated this story, I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t really name each decade with a bite-sized phrase. It seems that I am always on a great journey to get a little closer to my authentic self, no matter which era I am in.

But perhaps one insight I can share with the BK customer who asked about the theme for my 30s a few weekends ago is to be conscious of where and how we are informed. To make sure to create plenty of space to listen to an inner compass, and be brave to question what is considered “normal” in society.

That was one thing that has been very consistent and resonant in my 20s, 30s, 40s, and as I approach the dawn of the 50s.