Chapter 1: Embracing Mindfulness on the Morning Commute

In the heart of Tokyo, early mornings at Takadanobaba Station present a unique opportunity for mindfulness amidst the rush. "It’s crucial to practice in an environment where you feel at ease and free from interruptions," says Jon Kabat-Zinn. While this notion is appealing, the reality of fitting meditation into a hectic schedule seems daunting. My mornings begin before dawn, when the sky resembles grilled seaweed, and the neighborhood is still silent, save for the occasional caw of the garbage crows.

Instead of succumbing to the temptation of checking emails or scrolling through social media, I incorporate yoga, Qigong, or Tai Chi into my morning routine. A few gentle stretches, like "puppy dog" forward bends, gradually lead me to a full sunrise salutation—each pose serves as another tick on my To Do list.

As I walk to the station at 5:50 a.m., I consciously set aside thoughts of the day ahead or the weekend that just passed. I focus on my breath: inhale for four counts, hold for two, exhale for six, and hold again. I repeat this cycle, allowing my awareness to expand and embrace the sensations of my body—the rhythm of my feet on the ground, my knees and back loosening despite the morning chill.

I take in the sights of my semi-rural Tokyo neighborhood awakening: bags of burnable trash neatly arranged under blue or yellow nets; dog walkers and joggers illuminated by safety lights; birds flitting among the trees at the Montessori school; and the variable weather conditions that define the seasons. The 6 a.m. gong from a nearby Buddhist temple serves as a reminder of the community around me.

Upon arriving at the station, it feels like stepping into a beacon of light amidst the pre-dawn darkness. The first train from the city makes a brief stop, and moments later, I notice a mix of commuters—a shift worker, a club-goer, and a hostess in knee-high boots passing by.

But I remind myself: focus on the breath. Stay present.

On the platform, a line of passengers waits for the 6:08 train—salarymen in suits and construction workers in loose-fitting pants stand in anticipation. I used to endure a 20-minute express ride into the city; now, I prefer the local train, seeking a seat whenever possible.

As the train rolls through the suburbs, the grey sun rises over the uniform houses and crowded apartment buildings. Inside the carriage, passengers exhibit a spectrum of moods—some lost in thought, others asleep, all enveloped in a silence punctuated occasionally by an awkward sound.

I begin with breath meditation, transitioning into a body scan. As we approach Shimo Igusa station, I find myself fighting the urge to wiggle my toes, a small rebellion against the stillness. By the time we reach Takadanobaba, my focus shifts to the persistent ache in my lower back—will I again experience the back spasms that often plague me? How long can I maintain my fitness to conquer Japan’s steep mountain trails, or endure hours in a cramped airplane seat on my annual trip back to Canada?

My thoughts drift again.

"Breathe," I tell myself.

At Takadanobaba, one of the busiest train stations globally, I join the throng of commuters transferring to the Yamanote Circle line, which connects several key areas of Tokyo, including Shinjuku, Shibuya, and Tokyo Station.

In the past, I would feel irked by my fellow travelers—rushing through the bustling station, briefcases and umbrellas flailing, careening up and down stairs, and forcing their way into already crowded trains. I often wondered how they could be so inconsiderate, as I dodged yet another oncoming commuter.

Recently, however, I have made an effort to cultivate loving-kindness not just for myself but for others too. I’ve begun to empathize with these hurried individuals—imagine losing your dignity in the chaos, racing to meet a tight connection, only to find yourself crammed into yet another overcrowded train. Still, I admit, I remain short with those glued to their smartphones, blocking pathways and escalators.

Passing through Shinjuku, the world’s busiest station, I hear Kabat-Zinn’s voice urging me to remain present.

At Shibuya, the second-busiest station…

By the time I reach Ebisu, ranking as the 53rd busiest station globally, the collective energy of my 2.5 million fellow commuters fills me with a sense of connection.

This video, "My Everyday Train Commute in Tokyo // ASMR," captures the soothing sounds of daily commuting in Tokyo, immersing viewers in the tranquil yet bustling atmosphere.

The video titled "Commuting to Work in Tokyo" offers a glimpse into the vibrant yet chaotic world of Tokyo's morning rush, highlighting the unique experiences of daily commuters.

Chapter 2: Finding Calm Amidst the Chaos

As I navigate through this intricate tapestry of movement and energy, I remind myself that every breath is an opportunity to ground myself in the present moment.