Today, I talked with two young adults.
One wants to do this and that.
But his wanting fell short-lived.
Is it bad to have short-lived wants?
I don’t think so.
I felt it was more meaningful to help him do what he feels like doing, rather than trying to correct him as I found energy in him.
And that energy—if left alone—could turn into something negative or end up hurting someone close, like a family member.
Then I talked with another one. He is quiet. No—silent may be a better word.
But as I gave him time, I saw he is seriously living his life. He is searching—trying to find what he wants, what he’s good at—while working full-time.
What struck me most was this: He didn’t try to distance himself from his family. He didn’t avoid risk. Instead, he’s choosing to talk, to act, to figure out what’s best—not just for himself, but for his family too.
In general, people avoid conflict, but not him.
In the evening, I went to Tokyo and sang in the park.
A homeless man was talking and sleeping in front of the church.
One side of him was scary—loud, saying things that didn’t make sense.
The other side of him was completely alone.
No home. No one.
Everyone is just trying to do what they can!
Getting to know someone along the way—
is like getting to know myself.
What a wonderful kind of collision that is.