The Departing Bird…

The Japanese soccer team cleaned their locker room and left a thank you note after losing at the World Cup. The fans were also seen cleaning up garbage from the stands. The media loved it. This is Japan as I know it.

Yesterday I was in the first-class compartment of the Eurostar. I saw a woman leave her seat to get off the train. Behind her was a huge pile of garbage.

I was brought up with 「ひとにめいわくをかけない」 (hito ni meiwaku o kakenai) – the Japanese way: do what you want, but don’t be a bother to others. This idea goes deep in Japan. Children experience it at school when they help clean their own classrooms and hallways, not because adults can’t do it, but because everyone is responsible for the shared space. You could say there are people paid to clean your garbage on the train. But you could also say: just put it in the trash can.

The case of the clean locker room is also 「たつとりあとをにごさず」 (tatsu tori ato o nigosazu), meaning “the departing bird does not muddy the water behind it.” It’s seen as a form of beauty in Japan, a graceful exit. How you finish something is as important as how you start it: returning a room, a project, or a relationship without leaving a mess—physical or emotional—for others to clean up. Not to erase your existence, but to avoid making others deal with what you left behind.

In life, this can take different shapes. There is the trendy idea of “death cleaning”: tidying up your own life so that after your death your loved ones won’t be burdened with clearing out your house and your things. And when leaving a job—like today, my last day—it means settling your affairs and handing over smoothly.