About These Posts

Each day I add a new journal entry to my social media feeds. Here, I take that day’s entry and expand it through the lens of my Good Life Creed, which you can read about in my book Going Alone (available for free on this website). These dissections aim to connect ordinary reflections with the enduring objectives and principles of the Creed.

Journal Entry (10/10/25)

Every day I look out the back door at the garden I failed to tend. It waits quietly beyond the bamboo—four tidy beds of dark, healthy soil where eggplant, green pepper, and sweet potatoes somehow managed to grow despite my neglect. Another plant is there too, though I can’t remember what it is. A whole spring and summer have passed, with only a few reluctant harvests gathered out of duty rather than care—like checking in on a friend you’ve already begun to drift away from.

When Yumiko and I planned our return to Japan, I dreamed of having a bit of land to garden. We even toured real farms, imagining mornings spent in the sun, hands deep in the soil. And when we bought this home, the dream finally came true. I was sure—absolutely sure—that I’d spend my days outside tending the earth. But I didn’t. The garden became like a lovely toy received at Christmas—admired, played with for a time, and then quietly forgotten on the floor.

I’m not saying I’ll never return to it. Maybe I will. But neglecting this year’s garden has revealed something important—that sometimes self-discovery arrives not through effort, but through the quiet honesty of what we leave undone. I may not be a match for my own dream. And that’s alright. Some dreams are only planted, and never harvested.

Dissection

This reflection speaks to the soft acceptance that follows self-recognition—the moment when we see our limits clearly and stop pretending they don’t exist.

#Reason — The admission of neglect comes without excuses or self-deception. It’s a rational act of seeing what is, not what was intended.

#Limits — The author acknowledges that his desire to garden was more fantasy than calling. Recognizing such boundaries is not failure but honesty—a key mark of maturity.

#Balance — The closing acceptance (“that’s alright”) reflects composure and peace. It’s the emotional equilibrium that comes when ideals and reality are allowed to coexist without conflict.

Takeaway

There’s grace in accepting what doesn’t come naturally. Sometimes the most honest work is not the garden we plant, but the understanding that follows its quiet neglect.