Learning Moments

What a Japanese booklet taught me about the unseen price behind every decision

What’s the price?”

That was the unexpected question at my local bookstore this morning.

Before the holidays, I’d ordered a tiny booklet about surprising colour combinations — and then completely forgot to pick it up when I got home. This morning, I finally went back. There it was, still waiting for me. The bookseller pulled it from the “books ordered” shelf, and I happily followed him to the checkout counter. Finally, I’d get to see those unusual colour palettes.

But instead of telling me the total, I heard him mumbling numbers to his colleague — “21.30… 16.50… maybe 18.20?” I realised he was googling the book in different shops to see what they charged.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“What’s the price?” he replied.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Me neither,” he admitted. “Is it urgent?”
“It took me a while to get here, so no, not urgent. Just very curious.”
“Well,” he said, “it’s from Japan — and the price on the back is in Yen. Not very helpful.”
“So… you have to figure out a price?”
“Yes, but that’s risky,” he said.

The guy looked genuinely puzzled, even worried. He didn’t know what to charge me, and I could see it was a serious question — one that carried the risk of getting it wrong. When he realised he’d need to ask his boss, I offered to come back the next morning.

I left empty-handed. But I carried a question with me.

The next morning, I returned. The bookseller smiled. He’d found a fair price: 15 euros. Inside, I found exactly what I’d hoped for: colour combinations that shouldn’t work but somehow do. Corinthian Pink against Red Orange. Pale Lemon Yellow beside Calmine Blue and Red. Unexpected pairings that reveal their beauty only when seen together.

What’s the price?

There’s always a price, isn’t there? Sometimes we pay in money. But more often, we pay in other ways. In missed chances. In words left unsaid. In dreams we park for “someday.”

I think about the things I offer freely — like the Street Wisdom walks I host, where anyone can join for 90 minutes of wandering and conversation. No entry fee. No obligations. Just an invitation to explore the city with curiosity.

But free doesn’t mean costless. People sign up and sometimes don’t show up. Once, in Amsterdam, eleven people registered. One came — a friend. We paid in disappointment that day. We paid in trust, too. I almost stopped offering the walks altogether.

I’m glad I didn’t. I love each one. But I learned something: we always pay something. For what we choose to do, and for what we choose not to do.

For the blank canvas we’re too afraid to touch.
For the honest conversation, we avoid because vulnerability feels risky.
For the silence when speaking would have mattered.

Every choice leaves a trace — not just in what happens, but in what doesn’t.

Maybe that’s the point: nothing is ever truly free. Every choice has a cost — and a return.

What are you choosing right now — and what’s the price you’re willing to pay?

---

What if the most rebellious thing you could do right now is… nothing at all?

We invite you to pause. How does that sound? Like something you need?

In January, we’ll be back with 30-minute pause sessions—gentle explorations into stillness. Everyone is welcome. These aren’t about ‘doing it right’—they’re about discovering what happens when we permit ourselves to breathe, to rest, just to be.

These sessions are part of Rebel with a Pause, a new project Ewen Le Borgne and I are quietly nurturing—an invitation to explore how moments of stillness can heal work culture and open space for what wants to emerge.

If this whispers to you, we’d love to connect.

---

The bit at the end

Exciting events on the horizon to support your exploration:

• This winter, join Street Wisdom in Alkmaar — cozy, inspiring, and full of surprises. Come rain, sun, or storm, we’ll explore the streets or find inspiration inside with a warm cup of tea. Find the dates and sign up here.
• Join the next Unhurried Conversation—a space to slow down, listen, and connect. We meet every 2nd Monday of the month. It’s free, and you’re warmly welcome. Sign up here.
• For more Learning Moments, subscribe to my newsletter and get timely updates straight to your inbox.

Reach out,  I’m always open for a chat.
Creatively,
Nadia

P.S.The paintings featured on the blog are my own.