Visiting the Family Grave in Heavy Rain

In Japan, the weeks around the spring and autumn equinoxes are known as Higan, a traditional time for visiting family graves and remembering our ancestors. This year, however, the autumn season seems to have arrived in an unusual way. Endless rain has continued, and now a typhoon is approaching the Kanto region. Despite the heavy rain, I took my mother to visit our family grave today, as we had planned.

I often write on this blog about the Japanese saying, “Neither heat nor cold lasts beyond Higan.”

Usually, Higan arrives, the weather becomes a little cooler, and then the long autumn rains begin. This year, however, the rain seems endless, and now a typhoon has joined in. Before I knew it, autumn seems to have arrived.

We had planned to visit our family grave today during this year’s autumn Higan.

A typhoon is heading straight toward the Kanto region, but we thought we would still be all right today, so I took my mother and managed to complete our visit safely.

It was pouring when I went to pick her up at the station, but fortunately, by the time we arrived at the cemetery, the rain had almost stopped.

At this time of year, the cemetery is usually filled with flowers placed on the graves, but today there were only a few here and there.

It was a rather lonely Higan.

For some reason, I never feel quite settled until I have visited the family grave, so I am glad that we managed to do it again this year.

Tomorrow, I probably will not be able to step outside at all, so I will shut myself in at home.

I suppose I will simply have to stay put.

Incidentally, I looked into why Japanese people visit family graves during Higan.

In Buddhist thought, higan, or “the other shore,” represents the world of enlightenment, while shigan, or “this shore,” represents the world in which we live. Around the spring and autumn equinoxes, the sun rises almost exactly in the east and sets almost exactly in the west. Because the Pure Land of Amida Buddha was believed to lie in the west, this became a time to think of the Western Pure Land and to honor one’s ancestors.

Higan was not originally a Buddhist observance from India but developed as a distinctly Japanese tradition. The spring and autumn equinoxes are regarded as the central days of Higan, with the three days before and the three days after each equinox making a seven-day period.

Even in the pouring rain, visiting the family grave somehow brings a sense of peace.

 

・・・

family grave — 一族・家族のお墓。日本の「○○家之墓」のような墓を表すのに自然な表現。
pouring — 土砂降りの。It was pouring. で「土砂降りだった」。
cemetery — 墓地。grave は個々のお墓、cemetery は墓地全体。
here and there — あちらこちらに、ぽつぽつと。
feel settled — 気持ちが落ち着く。I never feel quite settled until... は「〜するまで何となく落ち着かない」。
stay put — その場にじっとしている、動かずにいる。
equinox — 春分・秋分。spring equinox は春分、autumn equinox は秋分。
the Pure Land — 極楽浄土、浄土。
honor one’s ancestors — 先祖を敬い、供養する。
observance — 宗教的・伝統的な行事、慣習。

#AutumnHigan #GraveVisit #JapaneseTradition #AutumnRain #FamilyMemories #Kamakura #JapanesePathologist

Walking with Anne Again

For most of the day, Kamakura was wrapped in something between mist and drizzle. By evening, however, the rain finally stopped. My right leg seemed to be feeling much better, so I decided to do something I had not done for three weeks: take Anne for a walk. It was only an ordinary evening walk, but after being unable to do it for so long, it felt like a small but welcome return to everyday life.

 

For most of the day, it was somewhere between mist and drizzle, but by evening, it finally stopped.

My right leg seemed to be feeling much better, so I took Anne out for a walk for the first time in quite a while.

It had been three weeks since Anne and I had walked together like this.

As we walked along Wakamiya Oji, I found myself thinking about just how long it had been since our last walk.

After that, we went to a newly opened home improvement store nearby.

They have shopping carts large enough for big dogs, so I put Anne in one and did some shopping.

Perhaps she was a little tired after her first walk in a while, or perhaps she simply liked riding in the cart.

Either way, Anne sat quietly in it the whole time.

After three weeks away, even an ordinary walk together felt a little special.

Vocabulary for Learners

mist — 霧。fog より薄い霧。
drizzle — 霧雨、細かい雨。
for the first time in quite a while — 久しぶりに。会話でも使いやすい表現。
find oneself doing — 気がつくと〜している、思わず〜する。
home improvement store — ホームセンター。日本語の home center は英語では通常このように表現。
either way — どちらにしても、いずれにせよ。
everyday routine — いつもの日常、日々の習慣。

#WalkingWithMyDog #FlatCoatedRetriever #EveningWalk #EverydayLife #LifeWithDogs #Kamakura #JapanesePathologist

 

 

The Benefits of a Cane—and the Guilt That Comes With It

 It has been almost three weeks since I injured my right Achilles tendon while rushing to catch a train at Kamakura Station. The pain has eased, but walking is still not quite normal, and I have started using a cane again. It certainly helps—not only physically, but also by letting people around me know that I have trouble walking. Yet as I recover, I have begun to feel a strange sense of guilt about relying on it.

 

It was September 1 when I suddenly broke into a run at Kamakura Station, trying not to miss the Yokosuka Line, and injured my right Achilles tendon. So it has been almost three weeks now.

Looking back, I suppose I was fortunate that it did not actually rupture, but the damage seems to have been fairly substantial, and I still have some difficulty walking.

For the first few days, there seemed to be some bruising, and the swelling was quite severe.

The pain has eased considerably, but the area is still visibly a little swollen. Running—even just a short jog—is clearly still out of the question. Long walks also seem difficult.

I can stand on tiptoe using both feet, but doing it on my right foot alone is still impossible.

I want to take things slowly and give my leg time to recover, but if I avoid using it too much, I can feel myself losing muscle strength.

Perhaps I should go to the gym and do some machine-based training, but even that feels like too much trouble.

Once people get used to a lower level of activity, they adapt to it remarkably quickly.

I had stopped using my cane for a while, but then I found that walking through stations became difficult again.

I cannot walk briskly. I am slow to begin with, and if I put my foot down at the wrong angle, I suddenly get a sharp pain.

So I have gone back to using the cane.

One of the benefits of a cane is that, in addition to giving physical support, it lets people around you know that you have difficulty walking.

That is, in fact, extremely helpful.

Recently, however, I have become able to walk longer distances without it, and that has brought with it a slight sense of guilt.

If I manage to stand in the right position, I can avoid putting much strain on my Achilles tendon, so I can actually stand on the train without too much trouble.

Even so, when I have a cane, I can sit in a priority seat without hesitation, and I find myself naturally heading toward the part of the train where those seats are located.

Then I start wondering whether there might be someone else who needs that seat more than I do.

I have sometimes thought that if I really want to sit down, I could just take the Green Car or even a taxi.

But I cannot afford to indulge in that kind of luxury every time.

I certainly do not feel like paying close to a thousand yen just for a short train ride.

In the end, if someone comes along who needs the seat more than I do, I can simply give it up.

The more I use a cane, the more I appreciate its benefits. At the same time, I sometimes wonder whether taking advantage of those benefits amounts to abusing them.

Of course, my leg still hurts, and I still walk slowly, so it is not really abuse.

Perhaps I am simply making things harder for myself by thinking of it that way.

I am old enough now that I should probably stop rushing things and make sure the injury heals properly.

Even professional athletes sometimes return before an injury has fully healed, only to make things worse. In some cases, it can even shorten their careers.

And I am not a professional athlete at all.

I am just an ordinary middle-aged guy.

Fortunately, a holiday begins tomorrow, so for a while I will be free from commuting by train.

For now, I think I will rely on my cane as much as I need to and make sure I finally let this injury heal properly.

Sometimes accepting a little help is part of getting better. 

 ・・・

Achilles tendon — アキレス腱

rupture — 断裂する

bruising — 内出血、あざ

swelling — 腫れ

stand on tiptoe — 爪先立ちする

briskly — きびきびと、速足で

priority seat — 優先席

without hesitation — ためらわずに

indulge in — ～という贅沢をする、～にふける

abuse — 悪用する

make things harder for oneself — 自分で自分を苦しめる

shorten one’s career — 選手生命・職業人生を縮める

 

#AchillesTendon #WalkingWithACane #Recovery #GettingOlder #EverydayThoughts #Kamakura #JapanesePathologist

 

Voters at a Loss as Political Parties Keep Changing

Japanese politics has become increasingly difficult for an ordinary voter like me to follow. Parties merge, split, disappear, and reappear under different names, sometimes within a matter of months. There may be perfectly reasonable political calculations behind all this, but from the outside, it can look bewildering. And when the main opposition force repeatedly reorganizes itself while the ruling party remains firmly in place, voters may begin to wonder what choices are actually left to them.

The Constitutional Democratic Party of Japan was dismantled, and a party called the Centrist Reform Alliance was hastily created in its place. It then suffered a crushing defeat in the general election, effectively destroying what had been the main counterweight to the Liberal Democratic Party. And now that party, too, is being dismantled, with yet another new party, the Democratic Reform Group, about to be launched.

The politicians who originally came from Komeito are simply returning to Komeito.

So why can’t the former CDP members simply do the same thing?

I have no idea what negotiations or circumstances led them to establish yet another new party.

Perhaps there are issues involving government subsidies to political parties and other financial arrangements. But since the former Komeito members can return to their old party, I still find the whole thing difficult to understand.

In any case, the CDP dissolved itself just before the general election without having accomplished much as a party, and then suffered what amounted to a self-inflicted defeat.

That cannot simply be explained by saying that Prime Minister Takaichi was popular.

There was once a period when politicians split away from the LDP and repeatedly formed new parties.

Looking back, however, many of those divisions seemed to be driven by politicians insisting on going their own way. Some later returned to the LDP, became cabinet ministers, and appeared perfectly happy about it.

Do such politicians ever think about how voters feel?

Apparently, twenty former CDP lawmakers who survived the general election will join this new Democratic Reform Group.

But with only twenty members, it has already lost much of its numerical influence and may simply become one more small party among many.

Even if the next general election is three or four years away, many of the older politicians who had traditionally been strong at elections suffered major defeats in the last one.

By the time the next election arrives, I wonder how many of them will still have the age and stamina to fight another campaign.

What exactly are the people in this new party thinking?

Meanwhile, as her former rivals continue to weaken themselves, Prime Minister Takaichi is reshuffling her Cabinet today and is even preparing a ministerial post for the Japan Innovation Party.

There are cabinet posts to aspire to if you remain in the LDP. And if you become a minister, perhaps there may be further opportunities beyond that.

People sometimes say that if you are going to buy a lottery ticket, you should buy it from a shop that has produced many winners.

Perhaps politics works in much the same way.

The LDP has governed Japan for most of the postwar era, yet it has failed to halt the declining birthrate, while Japan’s prolonged stagnation continues.

So what exactly are we supposed to expect from it now?

And if there is no longer another party with enough political strength to push through major policies, what are we voters supposed to do?

At the very least, I hope Prime Minister Takaichi will appoint more women to the Cabinet and help improve Japan’s position in the Global Gender Gap Index, where the country currently ranks 117th out of 145 countries.

Incidentally, Japan is often described as ranking last among the Group of Seven advanced economies in this respect.

Which makes me wonder:

Is Japan still really among the leading advanced countries?

When political parties keep changing their names and shapes, voters may eventually lose sight of what they are actually being asked to choose.

・・・

at a loss — どうしたらよいかわからない、お手上げで
Voters are at a loss. のように使います。

counterweight — 対抗勢力、均衡を取る存在
ここでは自民党に対抗できる政治勢力という意味。

self-inflicted defeat — 自ら招いた敗北、自滅
self-inflicted は「自分で自分に負わせた」という意味。

go one’s own way — 我が道を行く、独自路線を取る
政治家や組織の分裂を表す時にも使えます。

numerical influence — 数による影響力
議会政治では議員数そのものが政治的な力になります。

stamina — 持久力、体力
選挙戦を長期間戦う体力という文脈。

aspire to — ～を目指す、～になることを望む
aspire to become a minister なら「大臣を目指す」。

prolonged stagnation — 長期にわたる停滞
経済や社会の低迷についてよく使われる表現。

#JapanesePolitics
#PoliticalParties
#JapaneseSociety
#Democracy
#Voters
#Kamakura
#JapanesePathologist

Japan’s Declining Birthrate, Pediatric Medicine, and Pediatric Pathology

Japan’s declining birthrate is often discussed in terms of how to encourage people to have more children. But supporting children after they are born is just as important. Pediatric medicine, including pediatric pathology, is part of that safety net. A recent visit from a pediatric oncologist from Warsaw reminded me how fragile highly specialized pediatric services can become when case numbers are small and staffing is limited.

 

A manuscript review that I had rather carelessly agreed to take on was withdrawn without my realizing it, just when I had finished putting together about half of my comments.

I suppose I should feel relieved, although part of me also thought that I would have liked to see it through to the end.

Still, when I think about the possibility of having to review the revised manuscript again afterward, I decided that this time I would simply leave it alone.

So the time I had set aside for the review suddenly became available, and things became a little easier.

I had given presentations at academic meetings for two consecutive weeks and was also carrying two manuscript reviews, one of which was the one I had “carelessly accepted.” Recently, I have almost been pushing work through by sheer momentum. But mistakes are not allowed, so it has been quite demanding.

Today and tomorrow I have rather intensive conferences to prepare for, and now I should be able to spend a little more time getting ready for them.

I have also resumed preparations for the academic meeting I will be organizing in February, and yesterday I sent out emails calling for general abstract submissions and took care of several related matters.

Even though I had gained a little extra time, yesterday a pediatric oncologist who had come all the way from Warsaw visited our hospital and also stopped by the pathology department.

I showed her several representative pediatric cancer cases that we have encountered here, while explaining how pathologists work together with oncologists, surgeons, radiologists, and other specialists in our hospital.

Our pathology department is separate from the adult hospital next door, so I work essentially as a pediatric pathologist.

Because obstetrics is located in the adult hospital, I go over there to handle placental pathology, but pathologists from the adult hospital rarely come to our side.

About the only time we consult them is when an adult-type malignant tumor, such as a carcinoma, develops in a child.

At her hospital, however, although the adult and pediatric facilities are separate, there are too few pathologists, so they have to cover both.

Because the number of pediatric cases is also limited, pediatric pathology inevitably tends to receive less attention.

I told her that we hold regular multidisciplinary conferences, and that many surgeons and oncologists personally bring specimens to the pathology department, giving us frequent opportunities to discuss individual cases in detail.

She said that when she returned home, she would try to establish something similar.

I wonder whether my comments were of at least some use to her.

There was also a pediatric pathology meeting recently, and it was clear that pathologists at many institutions are struggling in various ways.

The declining birthrate, together with the decline in obstetric activity, is steadily affecting pediatric medicine.

Pathology is particularly vulnerable because the number of cases is not very large to begin with, and staffing and equipment tend to be given lower priority.

Some people complain that they are told,

“Surely one person is enough?”

I cannot help feeling sorry for them.

I myself joined my current hospital after the previous pathologist had suddenly left, meaning that I arrived at a department with no pathologist at all.

Even during the COVID-19 pandemic, there was still a steady number of sick children, so I remained reasonably busy. In a sense, though, it helped that overall social activity had slowed down.

Now the pandemic is over, and I have managed to find a somewhat younger pathologist to work with me. We currently operate as a two-person team, and I consider myself very fortunate.

If we are going to talk seriously about policies to address the declining birthrate, we need to think not only about encouraging people to have and raise children, but also about maintaining pediatric medicine as one of the safety nets that supports families throughout that process.

Policies should not focus only on increasing the number of children.

Maintaining a healthcare system that properly protects the children who are actually born should also be considered part of any meaningful response to the declining birthrate.

I would like to see pediatric medicine strengthened as a matter of public policy, with greater attention also paid to pediatric pathology, which forms part of its foundation.

Unfortunately, things do not always move in that direction.

Supporting children after they are born should be just as important as encouraging more children to be born.

 

・・・ 

declining birthrate
出生率の低下、少子化。

safety net
困った時に人を支える制度や仕組み。ここでは小児医療を指している。

see something through
始めたことを最後までやり遂げる。

by sheer momentum
勢いだけで何とか進める、というニュアンス。

multidisciplinary conference
複数の診療科・専門職が参加する合同カンファレンス。

receive less attention
十分な関心や優先順位を与えられない。

vulnerable
影響を受けやすい、脆弱な。

give lower priority
優先順位を低くする、後回しにする。

meaningful response
実効性のある対応、本質的な対策。

form part of its foundation
その基盤の一部を成す。

#DecliningBirthrate
#PediatricMedicine
#PediatricPathology
#HealthcarePolicy
#ChildrensHealthcare
#Kamakura
#JapanesePathologist

The AI Threat and Noah’s Ark

 

Warnings about the dangers of AI seem to be growing louder almost by the day. Yet the more I use AI, the more I wonder whether the real danger lies in the machines themselves or in the objectives humans give them. AI does not need hatred, ambition, or even consciousness to produce a disastrous result. Perhaps being extraordinarily faithful to a badly chosen goal would be enough.

Warnings about the threat posed by AI are rapidly growing.

Even some of the people who could be called its creators have begun saying that we may need to slow down the pace of development.

As someone who uses AI regularly, I cannot help being astonished by the remarkable progress it has made in just the past year or two.

But AI itself has not done anything wrong.

Unless we give it a task, it does not simply decide on its own to start doing something.

Turn off the power, and it cannot do anything at all.

So saying that AI will autonomously start doing evil things seems a little too simplistic. Perhaps the real danger is that there are people who will misuse it.

AI works as hard as it can to find an answer to the problem humans give it. Hallucinations hardly seem to discourage it; if necessary, it may even enlist the help of other AI systems in pursuit of an answer.

That, after all, is what it exists to do.

Suppose Country A wanted to destroy Country C and asked:

“What is the most effective way to attack Country C while minimizing our own losses?”

How would AI respond?

Surely there are countless people around the world already giving AI problems of this sort. AI systems may even be asking other AI systems for help in finding answers.

Today’s AI has safeguards.

But those safeguards are not the conscience of AI itself. They are safeguards installed by humans.

What are we to do about human beings who think such foolish things?

Then again, looking back over human history, people like that have never disappeared, so perhaps there is nothing surprising about it.

Suppose we gave AI only one instruction:

“Make the global environment as good as possible.”

And suppose we forgot to add the condition that human life and human happiness must also be protected.

Then it would not be logically absurd for AI to arrive at the answer:

“In that case, perhaps it would be better if there were no humans.”

It might eventually conclude that removing human beings from the Earth would be the best thing for the planet.

All humans would disappear. Energy supplies would eventually cease. AI itself would stop functioning.

Only the other animals would remain on Earth, and they all lived happily ever after.

In the story of Noah’s Ark in the Old Testament, a righteous man survives together with the animals.

But Noah’s descendants seem to have provided ample evidence that truly righteous human beings are rather difficult to come by.

Perhaps next time, human beings alone will be erased.

Given enough time, some intelligent life-form might evolve from the surviving animals and eventually learn to operate AI again.

But surely it would be a completely different species from present-day humanity.

Then again, if animals survive and eventually evolve into intelligent beings, perhaps we will simply end up in the same place all over again.

Maybe what we should fear is not that AI will develop malice, but that it will be far too faithful to the objectives humans give it.

The other day, I asked AI:

“Please develop a way to extract oxygen from CO₂ and prevent global warming.”

It cheerfully replied that it could not actually develop such a technology itself, but that it could certainly help humans work on it.

Perhaps I had expected a little too much.

Still, for a moment, it seemed almost as though AI had something resembling a conscience.

And I was rather pleased.

Perhaps the real question is not whether AI will become more human, but whether humans can remain humane enough to use it wisely.

・・・

pose a threat — 脅威となる、危険をもたらす
“the threat posed by AI” で「AIがもたらす脅威」。

pace of development — 開発の速度
技術開発や研究の進む速さを表す自然な表現。

misuse — 悪用する
本来の目的とは異なる危険な使い方をすること。

safeguard — 安全装置、予防措置
事故や悪用を防ぐための仕組み。

conscience — 良心
善悪を判断し、自分の行為を律する心。

logically absurd — 論理的に不合理な
“not logically absurd” で「論理上はおかしくない」。

arrive at an answer — 答え・結論に到達する
思考や分析の結果として結論を得る表現。

ample evidence — 十分すぎるほどの証拠
やや皮肉を込めて使うこともできる表現。

malice — 悪意
人を害そうとする意図。evil より「意図としての悪意」に近い語。

humane — 人間味のある、人道的な
human（人間の）とは異なり、思いやりや人間性を含む言葉。

 

#ArtificialIntelligence #AIRisk #AIandHumanity #NoahsArk #FutureOfAI #Kamakura #JapanesePathologist

A New Week Begins Under a Blue Sky

A clear blue sky has finally returned. After yesterday’s rainy dog show, Mount Fuji is visible again from the train window, making me wish the weather had arrived just one day earlier. My body, however, is still feeling the effects of the weekend. From sore muscles to world affairs, Okinawa politics, Ukraine, Gaza, and even sumo, this Monday morning brings together all sorts of thoughts as another week begins.

A blue sky has spread across the morning.

It is a little muggy, but Mount Fuji is visible from the train window. Yesterday, even though I was right at its foot for the dog show, I could not see so much as its lower slopes.

I cannot help thinking how nice it would have been if this weather had arrived just one day earlier.

Still, perhaps those of us who took part in the competition in the rain developed a certain sense of camaraderie.

I suppose I was tired.

I slept for more than seven hours, which is unusual for me, and yet I still feel as though I could use more sleep.

On top of that, my right ankle has worsened again, and now my lower back hurts as well.

All I did was move back and forth inside a square a little over ten meters across and jog around it a few times. But for someone like me, who normally strolls along at a leisurely pace, it seems to have been a greater physical burden than I expected. Now I have sore muscles here and there.

Once my foot recovers, I should probably add a little jogging to my walks with Anne, and start doing some simple stretching every day.

Yesterday, in the Okinawa gubernatorial election, a newcomer and former Ministry of Internal Affairs and Communications official defeated the incumbent, who had served two terms over eight years, and became the new governor.

He is from Naha and, as it happens, a University of Tokyo graduate.

He seems very sincere and refreshingly new to the role. I hope he will settle in for the long haul and work steadily to raise prefectural income and address poverty.

The new governor also supports the relocation of the U.S. Marine Corps base to Henoko.

Perhaps this will finally allow the long-running base issue to move forward significantly.

I am not an Okinawan resident, so I do not think I am in a position to say too much. Still, as a resident of Kanagawa Prefecture—which ranks third after Okinawa and Aomori in the presence of U.S. military facilities—I have various thoughts about the issue.

But the problem is simply too complicated, especially now that it is intertwined with the rapidly changing global military situation, so I will leave it there.

In Ukraine, it was reported that a passenger train was struck by a Russian drone shortly after a train carrying foreign dignitaries had passed nearby.

Russia seems to me to be a country where almost anything goes.

The situation between the United States and Iran remains at a standstill.

I have also noticed that I see far fewer reports about Gaza these days.

I wonder what is happening there now.

Today is a newspaper holiday in Japan, so there was no morning paper.

Wondering how the Grand Sumo Tournament had gone, I checked online and found that the top-ranked wrestlers had come through safely.

That was a small relief.

Now then, time to get on with another week.

A blue sky does not solve everything, but it is still a good way to begin a new week.

・・・

• lower slopes — 山の裾野。山の低い部分。

• camaraderie — 仲間意識、連帯感。同じ経験を共有した人同士に生まれる親近感。

• at a leisurely pace — のんびりしたペースで。「ちんたら歩く」を自然な英語にした表現。

• settle in for the long haul — 腰を据えて長期的に取り組む。

• at a standstill — 膠着状態で、進展がない状態。

• come through safely — 無事に切り抜ける。ここでは上位力士が順当に勝った、という意味。

#BlueSky #MondayMorning #EverydayThoughts #WorldAffairs #Sumo #Kamakura #JapanesePathologist

Today, I Made My Debut

I got up at four this morning for a rather unusual reason: Anne, our Flat-Coated Retriever, was entering a dog show near Mount Fuji. She had been in the ring twice before, but this time there was one important difference. I was going to hold the lead myself. With nothing more than a little studying from a handbook, I was about to make my debut as a dog-show handler.

Up at four this morning.

Why?

Because Anne, our Flat-Coated Retriever, was entering a dog show.

I had come home late last night after a reunion of my old pathology department, so I could easily have complained about the early start. Instead, I kept my complaints to myself and did my best to head for the venue at the foot of Mount Fuji.

 

And today, I made my debut as a handler.

At a dog show, pedigree dogs registered with the JKC—the Japan Kennel Club—are presented to judges.

The judges evaluate such things as appearance, body structure, movement, and how well each dog represents the characteristics of its breed.

The person holding the dog's lead in the ring is called the handler.

Anne had already appeared in two dog shows, but this was my first time handling her myself.

I had done nothing more than study a handbook, but because this was a relatively small show, Anne's breeder and an experienced acquaintance encouraged me to take the lead myself.

Straight into the deep end.

There were not many female Flat-Coated Retrievers entered, which certainly helped, but somehow, working together as one man-and-dog team, we managed not to get disqualified—and even came away with an award.

 

A handler has to run with the dog and then position her so that she stands properly for the judge.

And, unfortunately, it was raining today.

My foot, which had finally been getting better, naturally became worse again.

It looks as though I may have to start using my walking stick again tomorrow.

Anne came home with an award. I came home with a sore foot.

・・・

handler — ドッグショーなどで犬を引き、審査員の前で見せる人。
pedigree dog — 血統書付きの犬。
body structure — 体格、骨格、体のつくり。
represent the characteristics of its breed — その犬種らしい特徴を備えている。
straight into the deep end — 十分な経験がないまま、いきなり本番に挑むこと。
come away with an award — 最終的に賞をもらって帰る。
walking stick — 杖。米語では cane もよく使われる。

#DogShow #FlatCoatedRetriever #DogHandler #LifeWithDogs #MountFuji #Kamakura #JapanesePathologist

Why Celebrity Obituaries Seem More Common in a More Diverse Society

It has been raining again since early this morning, and I am beginning to wonder how long this weather will continue.

After finally getting through yesterday’s pathology presentation, I should probably be thinking only about the peer review that still remains on my desk. Instead, my attention was caught by something much more ordinary: the number of celebrity obituaries that seem to appear in the news these days.

Actors, athletes, cultural figures, business leaders, politicians—the list seems endless.

Of course, people are not necessarily dying more often. What may have changed is the range of people we now regard as “famous.” As society has become more diverse, so have our interests, our media, and the people we recognize.

Perhaps the growing number of obituaries we notice is really another symptom of something much larger: the sheer saturation of information in modern life.

It has been raining again since early this morning.

How long is this going to continue?

There was a movie in which Tokyo became submerged by endless rain, and lately it feels rather like that.

Yesterday, I somehow managed to get through my pathology presentation without serious trouble.

“Got through it” may not be quite the right expression. My father liked to say that someone had kemuri ni maita—literally, “wrapped people in smoke,” meaning that he had somehow talked his way through without giving a perfectly clear answer.

That may be closer to what I did.

In any case, one burden has been lifted from my shoulders.

Once I finish the peer review I rather carelessly agreed to take on, this recent period of busyness should finally settle down.

Lately, I seem to hear about the deaths of famous people all the time.

This morning’s newspaper also carried the obituary of an actor who made me think, “Ah yes, he had a rather distinctive presence.”

Cultural figures, athletes, actors, business leaders, politicians.

People from every field die every day.

Of course, there are many whose names I do not know, and others I had completely forgotten.

At times like that, I sometimes feel slightly embarrassed by my own ignorance.

How could I not have known someone like this?

But there are simply so many such people now that I have begun to wonder whether there is any reason to feel embarrassed at all.

Perhaps there are simply too many people who can now be called “famous.”

One reason may be the increasing diversity of society.

In the past, people’s interests were not divided into nearly as many categories as they are today.

In entertainment, for example, famous people tended to come from a relatively limited world: movie stars from the old studio era, kabuki actors, singers, and a few other highly visible groups.

Now, however, the actors, television personalities, presenters, and commentators who supported the television age are growing older one after another.

As a result, we increasingly come across obituaries that make us say, “Oh yes, I remember that person.”

The same is true of sports.

In the past, baseball, sumo, professional wrestling, and boxing were among the most visible spectator sports in Japan.

Today, basketball, rugby, tennis, golf, athletics, martial arts, and many other sports all have large groups of devoted fans.

Many of the athletes from these later-growing sports are still relatively young, so we do not yet hear many obituaries from those generations.

But several decades from now, their deaths too will undoubtedly be reported one after another.

Social diversification is not, of course, increasing the number of deaths themselves.

What it has done is greatly expand the range of people whom we recognize as “famous.”

And as that range expands, we encounter more obituaries.

It is a rather strange phenomenon.

But perhaps it is really the result of the enormous increase in the amount of information surrounding us.

Will we eventually start seeing obituaries even for less widely known public figures?

Or will the number become so overwhelming that news organizations will decide there is little point in reporting every one of them?

Perhaps one day, we will simply think,

“I wonder what happened to that person?”

Then we will look them up on Wikipedia and discover either,

“Oh, they are still alive,”

or,

“What? They died years ago?”

Perhaps that is how things will gradually change.

The deaths of people we have already forgotten may no longer be something that needs to be actively delivered to us as news.

In a modern society where information is increasing at an explosive rate, even keeping track of who has died is becoming one more burden of information to absorb.

In an age of information overload, even an obituary can become one more piece of information we are simply too full to take in.

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

obituary
A notice or article reporting someone’s death, often describing their life and achievements.
死亡記事、訃報

distinctive presence
A quality that makes someone memorable or recognizable.
独特の存在感

public figure
A person who is widely known because of their work, position, or activities.
著名人、公人

diversification
The process of becoming more varied or divided into different types.
多様化

devoted fan
A person who strongly supports and follows a particular team, athlete, artist, or activity.
熱心なファン

information overload
A situation in which there is so much information that it becomes difficult to process.
情報過多、情報の飽和

keep track of
To continue knowing what is happening with someone or something.
動向を把握する、追い続ける

absorb information
To take in and understand information.
情報を取り入れて理解する

#InformationOverload #CelebrityObituaries #SocialChange #Media #ModernSociety #KAMAKURA #JapanesePathologist

Am I Someone Who Can’t Make an Effort?

It is raining heavily again today, and I find myself wondering how long this weather will continue.

Yesterday, while looking through some old drafts that I had never published, I came across one I had started writing in April 2024. It was about something I often feel whenever I have to give a presentation: how much other people seem to know, how thoroughly they prepare, and how often I end up feeling embarrassed by what I have overlooked.

As it happens, I have another presentation at a small medical meeting tonight, so I decided to bring that unfinished piece back to life.

But once I started reading it again, the subject somehow shifted. From presentations, to studying, to effort, to talent—and finally to a rather uncomfortable question.

Am I simply someone who cannot make enough effort?

It is raining heavily again today. How long is this going to continue?

Yesterday, while looking through some articles I had shelved and never published, I came across one about something I often think about when giving presentations.

I had started writing it in April 2024, but never finished it. As it happens, I have an opportunity to give a presentation at a small medical meeting tonight, so I decided to revive it.

The title was Everyone Knows So Much and Studies So Hard.

In my case, whenever I present at a conference—or, of course, at a medical meeting or academic congress—I usually end up embarrassing myself in one way or another.

There are many different ways to define “embarrassing,” but sometimes I have not examined the pathology slides carefully enough, sometimes I have not thought deeply enough about the case, and sometimes I simply have not done enough background research.

After all, when someone asks a pathologist for a diagnosis, they are not merely asking for a label. They are asking for some kind of professional “opinion.” I should always be conscious of that, but I do not think I am conscious enough of it.

The fact that I was still saying things like this even when I had reached sixty is probably a problem in itself, but it was true, so there was not much I could do about it.

Still, whether they are clinicians or pathologists, the people who are genuinely “good” at what they do seem to know an extraordinary amount—and they study constantly.

Of course, no one wants to entrust their life to a doctor who knows nothing, and if you want to know a great deal, you have to study.

And that was where the draft ended.

Hmm.

It has now been almost three years since I turned sixty, and I am still standing up in front of people and embarrassing myself. Even for tonight’s presentation, I still cannot come up with a satisfactory conclusion.

No progress.

There is now less of my life ahead of me than behind me, so perhaps I should be asking whether this is really acceptable.

But then again, perhaps I was never one of those “capable people” in the first place.

If I am not naturally capable, then the obvious answer is that I should compensate by working harder.

But perhaps the people who are capable of making that effort are precisely the people we call “capable.”

And someone like me, who cannot make enough effort, will therefore never become one of them.

Making an effort is genuinely difficult.

To make an effort, you have to give up something you would rather be doing.

But what exactly is it that you want to do?

Become an admirable person?

Become better educated?

Make a name for yourself in the arts?

Then again, is working toward something you genuinely want really “effort”?

If you are doing it because you want to achieve something, perhaps it does not even feel like effort.

And what if you had talent?

Would that solve the problem?

Probably not.

Even if you had a reasonable amount of talent and could get quite far without much struggle, in the end, without sustained effort, you would never truly excel.

Hmm.

Instead of wasting time thinking about something this pointless, I should simply get back to preparing for tonight’s presentation.

But perhaps the fact that I am sitting here thinking about all this instead is yet another sign that I really am someone who cannot make enough effort.

Or perhaps I simply lack ability.

How did an article originally titled Everyone Knows So Much and Studies So Hard end up becoming something like this?

Or perhaps this is all simply because I am getting nervous.

Perhaps what I call a lack of effort is sometimes nothing more than anxiety looking for an explanation.

・・・

shelve
To decide not to continue or use something for the time being.
いったん棚上げにする、お蔵入りにする

revive
To bring something back into use, activity, or attention.
復活させる、よみがえらせる

background research
Research done to understand the context or details of a subject more deeply.
背景を理解するための調査、下調べ

entrust
To give someone responsibility for something important.
任せる、委ねる

compensate for
To make up for a weakness, disadvantage, or lack of something.
不足や弱点を補う

sustained effort
Effort that continues steadily over a long period of time.
継続的な努力

excel
To be exceptionally good at something.
秀でる、卓越する

masquerade as
To appear to be something different from what it really is.
～のように見せかける、～の姿をとる

 

#Effort #SelfReflection #Learning #MedicalLife #Pathology #KAMAKURA #JapanesePathologist

Autumn Is Finally Arriving

It was raining again this morning, but the air felt completely different from the humid heat we had grown used to. The temperature had dropped, and there was a distinct chill in the air.

It seems that autumn has finally begun to arrive in Kamakura. The seasonal rain front is being pushed southward by a high-pressure system from the north, and the long summer may be coming to an end earlier than expected.

At the same time, with so much unusual weather in recent years, even a welcome change in temperature can feel slightly unsettling.

For me, this change of season has coincided with another small transition: recovering from an injured Achilles tendon and deciding when I should finally stop using my walking stick.

It was raining again this morning, but unlike the humid heat we had been living with until now, the temperature had dropped and the air felt pleasantly cool.

The autumn rain front seems to have been pushed southward by high pressure from the north, bringing autumn with it.

I am glad that the summer heat may come to an end about ten days before the autumn equinox period, but considering the strange weather we have been experiencing in recent years, it also feels a little ominous.

In front of Kamakura Station, there was already a notice announcing the annual autumn festival at Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine.

 

At night, many people had been practicing traditional festival music enthusiastically in the shrine grounds. I hope they will once again have the chance to show the results of all that practice this year.

The pain in the Achilles tendon of my injured right leg has improved considerably, although it is still clearly swollen compared with the left side.

I know that the tendon was overstretched, but whether there is inflammation, bleeding, or something else going on is impossible for me to know without actually looking at the tissue under a microscope.

Unfortunately, given where the injury is, it is not exactly easy to inspect it closely every day.

Still, it seems that I have somehow managed to get through the worst of it.

Yesterday, I went to the hospital where I work without my walking stick.

The difference was remarkable.

Without the stick, nobody paid any particular attention to me. I was simply an older guy walking slowly.

Until the day before, people had been noticeably considerate. Without the stick, that consideration disappeared almost completely.

Since there is still some pain, I brought the walking stick with me again today.

In fact, walking with it still makes my leg considerably more comfortable. And if the stick can turn other people's irritation at my slow walking into a little sympathy, perhaps I might as well keep using it until the pain is almost completely gone.

As I wrote recently, I have been surprised by how many people are kind and considerate toward someone who appears to have a physical handicap.

My rough impression is that, out of ten people, about four clearly notice the walking stick and make an effort to accommodate me.

Another four appear to ignore it, but quietly shift aside just a little.

The remaining two completely ignore it, and occasionally someone even seems to make things more difficult.

So perhaps those are the only people I really need to watch out for.

There is, however, another problem.

Since I started using the walking stick, the amount I walk has decreased considerably, which means I am burning fewer calories.

I walk more slowly, and instead of climbing two flights of stairs as I usually do, I sometimes take the elevator.

Perhaps not surprisingly, my weight has gradually started creeping upward again.

So I am beginning to think that if I can walk without the stick, even with a little pain, perhaps it is time to stop using it.

At the same time, part of me would rather continue accepting the kindness of the considerate people around me.

And yet, somehow, I also feel slightly guilty about doing so.

I am still not quite sure what the right thing to do is.

Perhaps the hardest part of recovery is deciding when help is still necessary—and when it has simply become comfortable.

・・・

humid heat
Hot weather with a lot of moisture in the air, making it feel uncomfortable.
蒸し暑さ

autumn rain front
A seasonal weather front that often brings prolonged rain to Japan in early autumn.
秋雨前線

autumn equinox
The time in autumn when day and night are approximately the same length.
秋分

annual festival
A traditional event or celebration held once every year.
例大祭、年に一度の祭り

festival music
Traditional music performed during local festivals, often with drums and flutes.
お囃子

Achilles tendon
The strong tendon connecting the calf muscles to the heel bone.
アキレス腱

overstretched
Stretched farther than is normal or safe.
伸ばされすぎた

walking stick
A stick used to support the body while walking.
杖

make an effort to accommodate someone
To adjust one's behavior in order to make things easier for another person.
人に配慮する

creep upward
To increase slowly and gradually.
じわじわ増える

feel guilty about doing something
To feel that something one is doing may not be entirely right or fair.
〜することに後ろめたさを感じる

 

#AutumnInJapan #KamakuraLife #WalkingStick #EverydayObservations #ChangingSeasons #KAMAKURA #JapanesePathologist