Hi, my name is Tomomi.

A passport kerfuffle turned this into an unplanned, extra week in Tokyo. It meant a couple of missed lunches and drinks in Paris and one 3am call but once I got over the feeling of being stranded, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I enjoyed a few more in-person coffees, museum visits, a bike ride and more time with my family. As a special bonus, the oranthaamus flowers (flagrant olive tree) started to bloom. This is my favorite scent in the world. Because I always visit in the summer and winter seasons, it’s been six? years since I was in the same city when they bloom for a few weeks in the autumn. What a gorgeous surprise!

The coaching training is chugging along and I’m learning so much. My mentor says to forget about “arriving” anywhere, that I’m already there, wherever that is, doing the work and that’s what it’ll continue to be. Yes, and I’m still expecting to feel some sort of “I’ve got this” at some point. Until I’m hit over the head with the next dimension of learning, of course… All in all, I find myself really enjoying the work of coaching. For a moment in time, the only responsibility I have in the world is to be present for the person in front of me. There is liberation in that. And while my skills for 1-1 coaching is in its infancy, what I’ve already learned so far is already paying dividends in all kinds of work conversations.

When you don’t have an aircon: Take a nap when it gets too hot, after eating a big slice of watermelon.

When you want to give people something nice to wander in: Plant sunflowers, lots and lots of sunflowers, and some arrows to invite walking.

Make accessible little things that make a big difference, with no questions asked: ice pillows, bug repellent, crocs at all of the doors.

For dark hallways, nooks and crannies: lights that turn on and off automatically, with the right lightbulb chosen for each space

Bring nature inside: tiny vases in corners and bookshelves where the eye might rest

I’m now in Tokyo under a government mandated quarantine that’s deployed consumer technology to scale tracking and surveillance of individuals who fly into Japan. It’s an app-based check-in system, with random notifications and video calls throughout the day. I’m almost through the two week period and then I will continue socially distancing without being managed by an app.

My coaching training is in full swing. I have practice clients booked for the next two months, with whom I’ll meet weekly. I’ve found that as I started having open-hearted conversations with real people, my trepidation started to melt away. People have thoughts to sort out, decisions to make, and well, help is helpful. And I’m blessed with a strong support system through the program and energizing partnerships with some of my cohort peers, so things are in a good place.

I dream of the mountains, and being able to walk out barefoot onto dewey grass.

My newsletter took over the space reserved as my writing outlet, pushing out my weeknotes. I’m taking back that space, after ten weeks of disarray and a realization that what I thought was an established habit needs watchful protection.

Since the last weeknote, I’ve moved apartments, started a new company (kind of), joined another (kind of) and started on a training program for coaching. I’ve had a couple of projects start and a couple wind down. I’ve also had an uptick in non-digital social interaction, with France loosening up on Covid measures. Things are moving.

The friction of the physical world that must be dealt with to get myself to a certain location at a certain time in a certain state of mind and physical presentation is immense. I’m quite at home in semi-hermit mode, turning up for long and buzzing hours of online exchange and turning off with a simple click of the “hang up” button. I thrive in hyper-active asynchronous mode, being able to catch or pass the ball at any moment that feels most alive.

Reflecting on the past few weeks, I see that the increased hubbub of the external world has brought about a re-appreciation of the solitude and comfort of home. I’m reading a wider variety of books, and dreaming of escaping the busy city.

Writing these Weeknotes for about nine months made it easier to start my newsletter. But I sent out two Postcards in three weeks and it took up all of my capacity for writing! That was unexpected. But I hadn’t really thought about it, and it does make sense in hindsight. They are both forms of public journalling at the end of the day.

I want to give a 3-4 week cadence for Postcards a fair shot. At the same time, The Weeknotes have their own purpose, which is very dear to me. I’ll go with the flow and trust that I’ll keep writing here, even if it’s not every week.

This week I wrapped up the Advanced Facilitation class, which feels less like an close but an opening of potential futures. As a sign of gratitude and a promise to the universe to walk through these doors that are now open, I started a personal newsletter.

I’m calling it postcard-as-newsletter. Or is it newsletter-as-postcard? It’s meant to be read by people who know me in some capacity, with a mix of “here’s what I’m up to” and “here’s what I’m finding interesting” from various explorations. No custom welcome message or even a logo BUT it’s all set up, embedded on my website, announced on Twitter…and all that makes it real. A thing. I’m looking forward to the writing process and hope to get some replies, too.

This all goes against the growing trend of paid subscriptions. I’m sure I’m not alone in having wondered in the past few months if I should be on Substack. Not to make money per se but to claim that piece of digital real estate and look like a person that other people subscribed to.

As I hacked away at the CSS on my site to make the sign-up widget look a little bit nicer, I came up with the postcard metaphor. And as I wrote a few tweets, I realized that all I want is a less haphazhard way to get clearer signals out to my growing circles of loose ties that are overlapping less and less. Ah, clarity feels good.

I’m looking forward to writing the first one.

The week has zipped past and honestly I don’t remember much about it. Solid progress on all project fronts, with a new one kicking off next week. Next week is the last week of our Advanced Facilitation course and I’ve managed to spend time mapping where I want to be playing in the cohort-based learning field. Accumulating experience as a student and teacher takes a lot of time - there are no short cuts - and I’m thankful for all of the experiences I now have under my belt.

The weekend was relaxing; I didn’t manage to go road biking but did go for drinks twice and see a friend for lunch. I have a fully stocked refrigerator (not easy with 6pm curfews!) and two appointments for exercise - a strong way to usher in a new week.

Not much “In like a lion”-ness happening this March, rather a vague sense of malaise that’s unbecoming of the shy rays of sunlight. It’s almost the ten year anniversary of the Great Eastern Japan earthquakes and Fukushima disaster.

When we think of going on a retreat, we tend to think of it as time away - a reprieve from the humdrum of daily activities to rest and re-connect with whatever is important in our belief system, in the hopes of coming back rejuvenated. In our modern world, it carries a flavor of self-indulgence, something that only certain individuals can afford to prioritize at the expense of other people or things that might be deemed more worthy.

But consider the military context, from which perhaps the spiritual initiatives originally drew from, where a retreat is the withdrawl from enemy forces “as a result of their superior power or after a defeat”. In other words, it means to remove yourself from the situation because the game will be over otherwise. A strategic retreat makes possible the option to come back and fight another day, with better chances.

From that perspective, a retreat starts to look like the responsible and obvious move to make, in many more situations than we currently allow ourselves. I’ve been playing with new narratives for “investing in self” and this is my latest iteration.

Addendum: A great addition to this line of thinking from Marion, who points out that upon retreating, it’s important to be as careful as we can about what we take with us. If we take a hostage (or remaining work and other concerns) along with us, it needs to be watched over and cared for!

I’ve signed on for two exciting projects - one which is a quasi-coaching assignment and another to join an experimental academic research initiative. Both are wondrous offshoots from my core work of design and research. My role is to hold space and provide structure for group processes to flourish x injecting an outsiders’ perspective. It’s not a facilitator role, and it’s also not exactly “group therapy” as a friend remarked… I’m not sure what it is exactly but both inquiries seem to have come from a similar need. A gap that two completely different friends saw and thought, huh I should call Tomomi. I’m making a note to myself to ask them to walk me through this logic.

My hay fever kicked in over the weekend and I am declaring that it’s spring! It’s time to crawl out of the cave and frolic.