A Journey through My Diverse Perspectives

  There is a Japanese proverb that says, “When you want to be filial to your parents, they are gone.” It reflects the common experience that by the time we truly understand our parents’ love and sacrifices, they have often already passed away. This proverb teaches us the importance of expressing gratitude and showing filial piety while we still can. Many Japanese people later regret not doing more for their parents while they were alive. In Japan, it is also believed that those who are filial to their parents and appreciative of their ancestors are blessed with good fortune. This fortune refers to the smooth flow of energy that brings vitality to daily life, enabling positive outcomes in work, relationships, and well-being. For these reasons, filial piety is considered one of the essential foundations for living a fulfilling life without regrets.

  By putting our anxieties and stress into words or diagrams, and writing down the facts as objectively as possible, we can begin to grasp their underlying causes. At the same time, transforming vague feelings into clear, defined problems often reveals options and paths toward solutions. This process feels as though a calm and wise partner—our inner self—is guiding us through difficulties. In this sense, even if we are biologically alone, we are never truly alone in our thoughts. Let’s trust this wise partner within and deepen our communication with it.

  When an unexpected problem arises within one’s area of responsibility, it can disrupt the daily routine of pursuing top-priority goals. This disruption often throws off one’s mental rhythm, leading to stress, reduced focus, and a noticeable decline in creativity. During such times, it's easy to slip into self-criticism or self-loathing. That’s why it’s essential to consciously become your own cheerleader—reminding yourself of your worth and encouraging resilience. Even if progress toward your goals falls short, using all your wisdom and effort to navigate the situation is just as valuable for personal growth as reaching the goal itself.

  Over the decades, I developed the habit of devoting myself fully to achieving professional goals. After retirement, I feared that abandoning this habit would lead to personal decline. At the same time, I realized that maintaining such an intense drive would become a major source of stress. So, I took time to reflect on how I wanted to live the next chapter of my life. Eventually, I reached a conclusion: I needed to shift the center of my thoughts and actions from a life focused on “Doing” to one that also embraces “Being.” This change has allowed me to restore a sense of balance between body and mind—something especially important in my 60s. In Buddhist thought, “Doing” emphasizes actions and goal achievement, while “Being” emphasizes presence, acceptance, and the value of simply existing in the moment. Striking a balance between the two is vital. The more we lean into “Doing” and become attached to outcomes, the more suffering we experience when we fall short. In our younger yea...

  Even if we older individuals have many successful experiences to look back on—and can proudly share the lessons learned from both our failures and achievements—those stories still belong to a unique past. When we step into a completely new and unfamiliar field, our past experience often doesn’t help much. We inevitably hit walls, fumble in the dark, and struggle like awkward beginners all over again, lacking the relevant knowledge or skills. In moments like these, I often feel as if I’m grasping at straws. That’s when the insights, experiences, and know-how of younger people—who could be my children and have already found success in their fields—become incredibly valuable. I, too, am currently challenging myself in a new area. It's honestly an embarrassing stage, one I don’t feel comfortable talking about yet. Still, I choose to see it as an opportunity for growth. Instead of complaining, I want to keep trying, keep failing, and somehow keep moving forward.

  I recently heard a pop song from about 50 years ago while listening to internet radio. Back then, I was in my mid-teens—an impressionable time—and I used to play that song over and over on a cassette tape. Even now, it resonates deeply within me, evoking a comfort that feels like an indescribable emotion. Why does it move me so much? The biggest reason may be the element of surprise—it played unexpectedly, without any intention on my part. If I had been going through a difficult time, I might have interpreted this coincidence as a meaningful sign, perhaps even a hint of destiny. When we deliberately choose a song to listen to, it rarely stirs the same depth of feeling. That’s because true coincidence, untouched by our will, can intensify emotion many times over, making the experience all the more powerful. Beyond the power of chance, nostalgic songs often revive positive memories and emotions from our youth. In particular, songs tied to feelings of admiration or hope seem to resi...

  Even familiar, everyday things can reveal unexpected perspectives when we ask ourselves a simple question—“Why is that?”—and explore the answer from various angles. This process often uncovers ideas and meanings that were previously hidden, even at the level of a basic hypothesis. When we connect these insights with our own experiences and sense their truth, we gain the ability to speak about them persuasively. In my case, writing short essays is a daily habit, and this practice of questioning and reflecting on the world around me continually helps me generate ideas.

  In Japanese school education, most subjects—except for physical education and arts and crafts—emphasize academic exams that test whether students “know” something, while practical exams that assess whether they “can do” it are often neglected. However, once we enter the workforce, we rarely rely on the broad, shallow knowledge acquired in school. Instead, we are expected to have deep expertise in a specific area, along with essential skills such as problem-solving, collaboration, resilience, communication, and leadership. These practical competencies, which are better assessed through hands-on evaluation rather than academic tests, become increasingly important. Through my many years of experience, I have often seen talented individuals struggle in the workplace because they lacked the practical skills necessary to contribute meaningfully, despite their strong academic backgrounds. To develop such skills, it is not only effective to learn by doing through work but also to engage ...

  Just as a plant thrives and brings us joy when we care for it, the things we look after often respond in kind. For instance, when we use a particular pen with care, we may gradually grow attached to it—some even feel as if the pen helps them create, eventually becoming a "lucky" pen. In this way, consistently caring for our belongings becomes a form of positive mental investment, often bringing returns in subtle but meaningful ways. However, if our desire for material possessions becomes excessive, our homes may overflow with items we cannot truly cherish. In such cases, our attention and affection become scattered, leading to fewer returns from the things we own and a diminished sense of fulfillment. Similarly, if we live as though our time is unlimited—as I have at times—our appreciation for time fades, and we become distracted, unable to focus or find deeper spiritual satisfaction. By recognizing the finiteness of life, we become more intentional with how we spend our ti...

  When I was still working, I took short overseas business trips about twice a year from my 30s onward. A respected senior colleague once gave me valuable advice: after returning from an overseas trip, promptly wrap up all related administrative tasks and shift back into regular work mode. Following this advice, I developed a routine. As soon as I returned home, I unpacked my suitcase and put everything back in its place to avoid lingering in the mindset of travel. The next day, I submitted my trip report and expense documentation without delay. This habit brought several benefits: it prevented tasks from dragging on, allowed me to share key insights from the trip with superiors and colleagues right away, enabled timely follow-ups, and helped me resume my usual responsibilities without falling behind. By promptly returning to my normal rhythm, I reduced the stress associated with travel and maintained focus on immediate priorities. Stress triggers hormones like cortisol, which impa...