On Standing at the Edge of Change

I was sitting on a beach on Miyako Island, one of Japan’s southern islands, watching an unforgettable sunset by myself. At the time, I had been thinking about a major life change : one that had gone back and forth between “let’s do it” and “don’t do it” for more than half a year.
As I watched the sun sink into the horizon, the pendulum finally stopped on one side: let’s do it.
That decision led me to apply for a graduate program in Environmental Sciences and to leave a job I had worked at for over twenty-four years.
Around that same time, my mother and a long-time friend were both dying from cancer. Being so close to loss made something painfully clear to me: life is shorter and more fragile than we like to believe. I didn’t want to postpone what mattered anymore. Two months later, they both passed away.
One of the biggest hurdles in applying to school was my age.
Was I too old to study something new?
Was it too late to go back to graduate school?
Would I look foolish even trying?
No one ever told me I was too old.
That voice came from inside.
I realized how often I had let age quietly dictate my choices: how easily I had talked myself out of possibilities before even testing them. Looking back, I can see how early I started doing that. Even in my thirties, I remember thinking certain doors were already closed. It feels almost unbelievable now — and yet, I know how convincing that belief can be when you’re living inside it.
What I see now is that the difference isn’t age itself, but how we listen to it. Some people hesitate in their thirties, convinced it’s already too late. Others step into something entirely new in their fifties or sixties, without apology. The boundary isn’t external. It’s internal.
I created this space to reflect on what it took for me to reach this point, not because I have answers, but because I know how heavy that hesitation can feel. If you’re standing at your own edge of change, questioning yourself, doubting your timing, or wondering whether it’s too late, I understand that feeling deeply.
This space is not about rushing forward or proving anything.
It’s about noticing when something inside you begins to shift and allowing yourself to listen.
This is where my own beginning continues.