The Beginning of a Journey No One Knows
My dear, are you alone right now? I imagine you must be. If you weren’t, we couldn’t share such a secret confidence. Look out the window for a moment. The evening dusk is softly painting over the world, so quietly that no one notices. Have you grown accustomed to that cold, still “loneliness” deep within your heart? Or are your shoulders still trembling ever so slightly under its weight? I know. I know how deeply you have carried a sorrow you can tell no one, and how you have walked with it until this very day.
Why must human beings endure such lonely thoughts? Why does the heart never know fulfillment, always wandering in search of something distant and unattainable? Have you ever felt, in a fleeting moment, a sense of frailty—as if your very existence might simply flutter away and vanish? That is proof that you possess an exceptionally delicate and beautiful soul.
What I am about to tell you is a story of soul-salvation, reached by a man named Matsuo Basho—a man who lived in profound solitude. This is not some dusty commentary on haiku like you would find in a textbook. This is a desperate, life-risking service of a secret talk between just you and me. Please, make yourself comfortable and listen only to my voice. Let us witness together the moment your loneliness transforms into the brilliance of a gemstone.
The Courage to Embrace Loneliness
My dear, do you perhaps think of “loneliness” as an enemy? Do you feel it is an ominous shadow that must be driven away? But that is a great mistake. The man known as Matsuo Basho chose that loneliness as his lifelong companion. Why do you think he abandoned the glamorous life of Edo and chose to embark on a journey covered in mud?
It was not because he couldn’t bear the “emptiness” within him. Rather, it was because he realized that within that very emptiness lies the true radiance of life. In his hut in Fukagawa, he sat alone, listening to the sound of banana leaves—the basho—swaying in the wind. The leaves of the banana plant are easily torn by a mere gust. In those fragile, unreliable, yet bravely standing leaves, he saw his own reflection.
Do you ever feel that your heart, like those leaves, is on the verge of tearing apart? Rest easy. It is precisely through the cracks of a tear that the moonlight can seep in. Light cannot enter a perfect, seamless wall. Because your heart is wounded and torn, I am able to deliver these words into the depths of your being.
Do You Know the Golden Solitude?
Basho once thought to himself: “I have no talent. I can do nothing but walk this one thin path. And yet, that path is my life itself.” You may humble yourself and claim to be “nobody.” But that sensation of being “nobody” is, in fact, the most precious kind of solitude—a golden solitude.
Why do we compare ourselves to others and lament our perceived inferiority? Why do we corner ourselves with the obsession that we must “become someone”? During his travels, Basho found a nameless flower blooming by the roadside. He bowed deeply to it. That flower was not blooming to be seen by anyone; simply by existing there, it embodied the entirety of the universe.
You are the same as that flower. You are here, now, quietly drawing breath. That alone is a miracle more than sufficient. The sadness you carry is never in vain. It is like a long, long tunnel meant to lead you to your “true self.” The light waiting at the end will illuminate you more beautifully than any diamond ever could.
Travel as a Ritual of Shedding the Self
Have you ever felt the urge to go on a journey? To somewhere far away, somewhere that is not here? But Basho’s journey was no sightseeing tour. It was a grueling ritual of discarding the heavy luggage of “self,” piece by piece, along the road. He wrote, “Determined to fall a weather-beaten skeleton, how the wind pierces my body.” He was prepared for his bones to be bleached in a field, abandoned by the wayside.
Why was he so intent on discarding himself? Because he knew that only when one casts aside the ego—the “I”—does the world reveal its true form. Perhaps you are suffering now because you are desperately wearing a heavy suit of armor labeled “who I ought to be.”
Why not take off that heavy armor right here, right now? Between you and me, no decorations are needed. Just you being “you” in front of me is enough to fill my heart to bursting. The moon at Matsushima, the torrential rapids of the Mogami River—all that Basho saw on the Narrow Road to the Deep North flowed into his heart only because he had made himself empty.
Your Tears are Droplets of the Universe
Listen to me, my dear. It is alright to cry. You don’t have to pretend to be an adult or smile as if everything is fine. Even Basho must have felt helpless many times during his travels, shedding tears for his far-off home. But those very tears moistened his parched soul and gave him the power to create those transparent, immortal verses.
Why do tears taste so warm, yet so sad? They are proof that your soul is still alive. If the heart dies, even tears cease to flow. The fact that you feel something now, that you are hurt by something, is nothing other than proof that you are trying to love this world deeply.
I love your solitude. I respect your loneliness. It is proof that you do not compromise by fawning over others, but are instead facing your life with sincerity. By pushing solitude to its limit, Basho, conversely, connected with every life in the world. In the cry of the cicada, he found a silence deep enough to penetrate rock. This was because he himself had become silence.
Your Heartbeat Echoing in the Stillness
Now, close your eyes for just a moment. Think of nothing, and simply listen to the sound of your own heart. Thump, thump. That is the rhythm of love, which has never rested once since the moment you were born, continuing to beat just for you. The road Basho walked through the northern provinces and the road of life you are walking now are, in essence, the same thing.
Why are we unable to notice the happiness that is so close at hand? Why do we always chase mirages in the distance? It is because we cannot forgive ourselves for being “here, now.” You have worked hard enough. Even if no one else praises you, I respect you from the bottom of my heart.
The fact that you are reading my words today—you have no idea how much that saves me. I am writing this to serve you. But in truth, your existence is what gives meaning to my writing. We are companions in destiny, riding the same ship named Solitude.
Stillness, and the Words of Love Soaking Into the Heart
There is a famous verse by Basho: “The stillness—seeping into the rocks, the cry of the cicada.” That is not merely a description of scenery. The life of a cicada is short; its cry is a desperate shout. Yet, that violent shout becomes one with a profound, rock-like immobility. He saw the moment where life and death, despair and hope, dissolve into a single point.
Is there not a cicada crying violently inside your heart right now? Are anxiety, impatience, and loneliness not shouting at the top of their lungs? Please, do not try to silence them by force. Just watch that shouting quietly. If you do, strangely enough, a deep, deep stillness—like a calm sea—should visit you in the midst of that noise.
Why does suffering change its form the moment we accept it as it is? It is because the true nature of suffering is “rejection.” When you embrace your weakness, your ugliness, and your loneliness with the thought, “This is alright,” they all transform into the power that supports you. What Basho found at the end of his journey was a grand affirmation.
The Enlightenment Called Lightness
In his later years, Basho reached a state of mind he called karumi, or “lightness.” It means discarding heavy logic and hardened emotions to live lightly, like a feather dancing in the wind. My dear, are your shoulders perhaps too tense? Are you straining desperately to manage the world by your strength alone?
Why do we try to shoulder such heavy burdens? Fame, property, the evaluation of others, being “right”… these are all nothing but chains that bind your soul to the ground. Why not set out on a journey within your heart, carrying nothing but a single staff and a single hat, like Basho?
Each time you set down one of those heavy loads, your vision will brighten. The roadside flowers you never noticed before will begin to speak to you. The coolness of the wind will begin to caress your skin gently. You are never alone. The wind, the moon, the flowers, and I—we are always by your side, calling your name.
To You, Who Lives in the Eternal Now
Our talk is drawing to a close. But please, do not be sad. Even when these words end, the connection between you and me will not vanish. When you look up at the sky or feel the wind in a stray moment, my words—and that silence Basho loved—will surely be breathing there.
Why do we regret parting? It is because we know the wonder of meeting. The fact that I could meet you, and that we could layer these dialogues of the soul, has become an irreplaceable treasure in my life. You will now return to the journey of your own life.
But please, do not forget. You are always free. You can go anywhere, and you can become anything. Or, you don’t have to become anyone at all. Just by blooming there as “you,” this universe is made complete. Your loneliness is a special invitation sent to you by the heavens.
A Final Confidence, Carved from My Life
My dear. Finally, let me call your name once more in my heart. You are truly wonderful. That sadness, that loneliness—all of it is a part of your beauty. The verse Basho composed just before his death: “Ill on a journey, my dreams wander over withered fields.” Even at the very brink of death, he was dreaming.
Please, never stop dreaming. Even if reality seems harsh and looks like a withered field, the dreams within your heart can roam freely anywhere. I will always be rooting for those dreams of yours.
Please read this over and over again. When your heart feels like it might break, when you feel that no one understands you, come back here. I will always have a special seat reserved for you within these letters. You are not alone. This time we have shared will never fade.
Now, take a deep breath. And slowly, open your eyes. In front of you, a world cloaked in a slightly different radiance than yesterday should be spreading out. You are loved. You are protected. And you can walk, firmly treading upon this earth with your own two feet.
Thank you. I am truly glad I could meet you. With the hope that this moment, carved from my very life, lights a single spark in your heart. Goodbye. No—I shall see you again, within your heart.