A Life as a Videographer｜Part 1

“I didn’t know what I really wanted to do” — How an ordinary person like me ended up going to Canada

– Prologue: When Discomfort First Appeared –

There was a time when I genuinely didn’t know what I wanted to do.

Some of you reading this may have also experienced that phase of vague unease, where something feels off but you just can’t figure out what it is.

This is the first post in a five-part series where I reflect on that past version of myself and how I began to change.

This part focuses on the beginning, when I first started feeling out of sync with my own life.

1. Growing Distant from a Job I Thought I Loved

In my early twenties, after working for a year or two, I spent my evenings drinking and singing karaoke with colleagues after work.

Those were supposed to be fun times, but somewhere deep down, I found myself lost in thought.

"What is this feeling? Everyone looks like they’re enjoying themselves, but something doesn’t feel right for me..."

I couldn’t identify the discomfort at the time.

My first job in customer service had felt like a calling.

Seeing customers smile made me happy—I truly believed I was working for that joy.

But as my days got busier, I had less and less time for customer interaction.

And even when I did, I wasn’t enjoying it anymore.

"If this continues, I might end up hating customer service itself."

With that thought, I decided to quit.

But even after moving into sales, I left within a few months.

"Something still doesn’t feel right..."

Even then, I hadn’t figured out what that feeling was.

2. Choosing Stability Didn’t Fill the Void

Later, I returned to my hometown and found a stable job in the public sector.

The workplace relationships were good. I could enjoy my tasks well enough.

But inside, I kept asking myself:

"Am I really putting my heart into this?"

To be honest, the center of my life was snowboarding.

Ever since I picked it up at age 20, I spent every winter weekend at the slopes and summers at jump facilities.

“Work during the week, ride on the weekend”—that was my rhythm.

3. Why Did Snowboarding Grip Me So Deeply?

Looking back, I realize snowboarding gave me something nothing else could.

That exhilarating sense of cutting through the wind on snow, as if escaping reality.

The joy of feeling myself improve bit by bit.

And more than anything, the way I could fully immerse myself in the present moment.

When I was riding, I wasn’t overthinking. I wasn’t doubting.

I was just alive.

Snowboarding was how I truly felt alive.

4. Growing Questions and an Answerless Search

But by my late twenties, a series of questions began to rise:

"Am I really okay with this?"

"Is it right to spend most of my life just working for the weekends?"

"Am I actually devoted to what I’m doing?"

Eventually, I uncovered the truth behind the discomfort I’d been carrying:

"I don’t know what I truly want to do."

And worse:

"I don’t even know how to find it."

"Where do I start? Where should I look?"

Even when I rushed, the answer never came.

5. The Regret I Couldn't Express Moved My Future

But still, the days kept passing.

With a quiet sense of doubt—

“Is this really enough?”

—I worked through the weeks and spent my weekends snowboarding.

Then one day, I saw something on social media:

"A famous snowboarder I admired was coming to a ski resort in Japan."

I didn’t want to miss it. I took time off work and traveled seven hours to get there.

Seeing him in person was unforgettable. But I had so many things I wanted to ask—how he trains, how he rides, what he values.

Yet I couldn’t say a word. All I managed was, “Can I take a photo?”

I was happy to get that picture, but the frustration of not being able to speak stuck with me.

On the way back, I couldn’t remember the snow or the lift sounds.

Only one thought echoed:

“If I knew just a little English, I could’ve learned so much more.”

That moment lit a quiet spark.

“I want to go abroad.”

“I want to know more—about snowboarding, English, and myself.”

I didn’t decide right away, but the feeling grew stronger.

And by summer, it became clear:

“One year from now, I’ll go to Canada.”

A small frustration had turned into a first step toward something new.

6. The Summer I Chose Canada—At Age 33

And so, in the summer I turned 33, I made the decision to study in Canada.

"I don’t speak English."

"I don’t have a clear dream. But still—"

I finally decided to be honest with that discomfort inside me.

That one decision would eventually lead me to the world of video.

And in that world, I would find a connection to my passion.

【Coming Up Next】

Thank you for reading this far.

This was Part 1 of my 5-part blog series, A Life as a Videographer, where I reflect on a time when I had no idea what I truly wanted to do.

In Part 2, I’ll share how I stumbled across video editing through YouTube during my time in Canada—and how I discovered the joy of sharing stories.

That was the start of a new rhythm—one where video became part of my everyday life.

If you’ve ever felt unsure of what you want to do—or if you’ve longed to communicate your thoughts to others—I hope you’ll come back for the next post.

Whether it’s about video or storytelling, I’d love to hear from you.

▶︎ Contact me here