I recently spent two weeks in Japan, travelling through the famed Golden Triangle of Tokyo, Osaka, and Kyoto as many first-timers tend to do. As expected, Japan was busy and crowded, buzzing with energy and people constantly on the move. It’s fast-paced in a way that feels familiar, the kind of city life that matches every Japan photo carousel you see on social media.
I fully expected to get caught up in that pace. Coming from Singapore, fast cities aren’t new to me. But something surprised me. Amid the neon lights, the crowds, and the constant movement, I felt calmer than I expected to. In between the main streets, I found pockets of alleyways where everything slowed down – narrow lanes, quiet corners, places that felt like they belonged to a different time altogether.
What struck me was how easily calm could exist alongside chaos. You didn’t need to escape the city entirely to find it. Sometimes, all it took was turning off the main road, waking up a little earlier than usual, or choosing to walk without rushing. In those moments, the noise softened. The city felt less demanding. I noticed small things – shutters opening, cafés quietly preparing for the day, footsteps echoing before the streets filled up.
“Japan taught me that peace can exist alongside chaos, if you know where to look.”
It made me realise how often we assume peace only exists when everything around us slows down. But Japan taught me otherwise. Calm doesn’t always come from changing your environment completely. Sometimes, it’s about how you move within it. About giving yourself permission to pause, even when the world around you keeps going.
The same feels true back home. Life doesn’t suddenly become quiet. Work doesn’t slow down. Responsibilities don’t disappear. But pockets of calm still exist ~ in a quiet morning before emails start, in a short walk without headphones, in moments where you put your phone down and let yourself just be.
My biggest takeaway from the trip wasn’t about travelling better or seeing more. It was about learning to find small pockets of time for myself, even in the busiest seasons. To stop waiting for life to slow down before I allow myself to breathe.
Maybe that’s what quiet really looks like ? Not the absence of noise, but the moments we choose for ourselves within it.
Ever slowing down,
Mira 🌿
The Slow Edit