One Year With a Copen Cero
onOctober 19th, 2024
On October 19th, I will have owned my bright yellow Daihatsu Copen Cero for exactly one year. In those 365 days, the odometer has nearly hit 31,500 kilometres. That's a lot of road under the tires for someone who works from home and doesn't need to commute every day. And yet, despite not having to drive anywhere, I find myself on the road often — sometimes with a destination, but most of the time, just driving.
When I first got the car, my goal was to explore more of Japan with Ayumi by my side. We would visit photogenic places, and I'd document them for YouTube and social media. I imagined quiet mornings on forested paths and golden hour sunsets by the lake, with Ayumi excitedly walking alongside me. In the beginning, we did just that. There were parks, fields, and lakeshores where I'd test my various cameras and capture the natural beauty of the country. But as the months passed, I started noticing that Ayumi didn't seem to enjoy the long car rides as much. What started as an exciting adventure for both of us became stressful for her — especially on trips longer than two hours. After a few instances of her getting carsick after these longer outings, it became clear that our travels had to change.
So, instead of chasing photogenic places, these drives became something else entirely.
The Road as a Meditation Device
Over time, I started using the car as a form of meditation — a way to clear my mind and reflect on the things that have been weighing on me. There's something deeply calming about being on the road with no particular destination in mind. I have the luxury of time, so I can afford to drive without rush or pressure. When I set off, I let my mind wander along the winding roads and open skies, free from the constraints of the daily grind.
I've always found peace in covering long distances. There's something about the hum of the engine, the rhythm of the road, and the wind flowing through my hair that allows thoughts to flow freely. I've come to think of these drives as a kind of moving meditation, where I can process my thoughts without interruption. It's during these moments that I reflect on my life, my work, and the world around me. Without the distraction of music or conversation, my mind drifts, and I often return from these drives with a clearer perspective.
Ayumi's New Role
Ayumi, too, has settled into a new rhythm. Instead of enduring the long drives that once caused her discomfort, we now take shorter trips, often to nearby parks where she can stretch her legs and sniff out new surroundings. I think she's happier this way, and so am I. There's less pressure to always be going somewhere grand or photogenic; sometimes, the small, local adventures are enough.
Ayumi also reminds me that life doesn't need to be filled with grand, sweeping gestures to be fulfilling. In her simplicity, I see a reflection of what I've learned this past year: that sometimes, the act of just being — whether it's enjoying a walk, a quiet moment, or a peaceful drive — is enough.
Lessons from a Year on the Road
Looking back, this year of driving has taught me more than I expected. When I first bought the car, I saw it as a tool — something that would help me explore more and capture beautiful places. But in many ways, it's become much more than that. It's been a constant companion on my journey through introspection and self-discovery. While I may not have visited as many photogenic spots as I initially planned, I've still covered an incredible distance — both literally and mentally.
I think that's the beauty of the road: it's not about where you're going, but about what you discover along the way. Every trip, no matter how small, is an opportunity to think, reflect, and maybe even solve a few of life's little problems. And even if the odometer keeps climbing, I know that what really matters isn't how far I've driven but how far I've come.
As the second year of this journey begins, I'm looking forward to seeing where the road will take me next. Maybe I'll find more photogenic spots, maybe I won't. And I'm okay with that. Because sometimes, the most meaningful drives are the ones that don't have a destination at all.