I really loved Netflix’ live adaptation of the One Piece anime. It was eight hours of great TV. I’ve been waiting for the second season ever since. That’s now been two years, and with the release confirmed for 2026, it might have to be another before I get to watch more of this awesome show.
I don’t think about One Piece every day, of course. But every now and then, it pops into my head again. “Oh, what about season two?” I might quickly check if there are any updates on it or re-read a bit about the show on Wikipedia. It’s a habit millions of people share, I imagine, and yet, the dynamic is funny if you think about it. We spend two, three years waiting for, considering, anticipating what will ultimately be a few hours of entertainment. Why don’t we just enjoy it once it shows up?
Commitment has become a scarce resource in show business. It’s nice when producers put more oomph behind something we like—but there’s no need for us to mentally handhold them from afar every step of the way. Production cycles take longer and longer, and who knows? Maybe the show won’t happen in the end. Maybe the star quits, the company goes broke, or creative differences torpedo the production. In the meantime, perhaps we should do what we do best once we put our minds to it: focus on our own creations. Of art. Of kindness. Of connection.
You don’t want to trade years of your life later for seconds of instant gratification now—but you also shouldn’t wait two years for an event that’ll only last a few hours if and when it comes to pass. Just like it’s no good fretting over an exam you’re not currently sitting in, there’s no point in anxiously looking forward to a future source of joy. Stay here, do what you can, and let time figure out the rest.
