Living and Death When we think about death, we can truly feel that we are alive.
Today, I met and spoke with Kotaka-sensei, who speaks deeply and honestly about death through his work. I deeply admire people who clearly know what they are doing—what they can do, and what they cannot.
As usual, I have so many things to do. Some go unfinished, some feel not even worth continuing.
There’s an old Japanese saying: “Young girls laugh even when chopsticks roll.”
It doesn’t feel related to me or my age anymore.
And yet—lately, I find myself reacting to almost everything I hear.
Life needs to be guarded.
To guard it, I must know the value of my inner space—my mind and heart.
To guard it, I must know the value of my time.
And to know the value of my time, I must first remember—I am alive.
In the afternoon, I spoke with a mother who has never given up on her alcoholic son.
Today, I found myself thinking about sisterly love and a mother’s love.
A mother’s love always goes beyond what I can understand.
That evening, I went to help with some house reforming.
Just looking at the flooring work—measuring, cutting, smoothing, fitting plywood—it all seemed so difficult.
But once I started doing it with my own hands, the “undoable” began to feel doable.
Think good. Think forward. Take action.
Doing what feels right on the inside is always better than standing still, telling myself, “It’s hard,” or “It’s impossible,”while only looking at the outside.