Artificial Colors and Natural Colors

 As concerns grow over disruptions in global supply chains and petrochemical products, it is worth asking how much of the color around us is truly necessary. A simple morning of sorting plastic waste led me to reflect on the difference between artificial colors and the colors that nature provides.

Today was plastic recycling day.

Collecting trash from around the house and taking it out is one of the small household chores I help with.

I have become reasonably good at sorting bottles, cans, paper, and other recyclable materials. However, I still do not fully understand how to dispose of hazardous waste or certain plastic products.

As I looked at the plastic bag holding the collected waste, I found myself wondering how long such bags would continue to be readily available.

While stuffing plastic packaging into it, I was struck by how colorful those packages were.

Do we really need all this?

Of course, there is no doubt that color has enriched human life throughout history.

Looking at the cave paintings of Lascaux or the murals of the Takamatsuzuka Tomb, one can see that people have sought color since ancient times.

Human life must always have been filled with color, and people must have worked hard to obtain beautiful pigments and dyes.

Today, we can create almost limitless shades and tones, and products are designed with an endless variety of colors and patterns.

Not only plastic packaging, but entire cities are overflowing with color.

Yet the materials that support many of these artificial colors may become harder to obtain. If tensions involving the United States, Israel, and Iran were to disrupt shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, supplies of naphtha and related petrochemical products could be affected.

But how much of this is truly necessary?

When the sun rises, the world is filled with color. When it sets, another day comes to a beautiful close.

Each season brings its own colors as well, surrounding us throughout the year.

Of course, some color is essential to daily life.

Yet it sometimes feels as though modern society has become overwhelmed by color.

Even if artificial colors became more difficult to obtain, perhaps we could continue our lives by appreciating the natural colors already surrounding us.

Then again, even those “natural colors” are increasingly shaped and enhanced by human hands. In a world where nature itself is often managed, designed, or recreated, the boundary between natural colors and artificial ones seems to be growing ever more uncertain.

Perhaps the question is no longer whether a color is natural or artificial, but whether we still notice the colors that matter. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

household chore　Work that is regularly done to maintain a home, such as cleaning or taking out the trash.　家事、家庭内の雑務

recyclable materials　Items that can be processed and used again instead of being discarded.　再利用可能な資源

pigment　A substance used to give color to paint, ink, or other materials.　顔料

dye 　A substance used to color fabric, paper, or other materials. 染料

petrochemical　A chemical product made from petroleum or natural gas.　石油化学製品

naphtha　A petroleum-based raw material used in the production of plastics, chemicals, and synthetic materials.　ナフサ

overflow with　To contain more than enough of something; to be filled abundantly.
〜であふれている

appreciate　To recognize and value something positively.　価値を認める、大切にする

boundary　A line or limit that separates two things.　境界

uncertain　Not clearly defined, known, or determined.　曖昧な、不確かな

 

 

Students Return After the Typhoon

 After Typhoon No. 6 passed through Japan, daily life quickly returned to normal. As students filled train platforms once again, I found myself reflecting not only on commuting, but also on Japan’s declining birthrate and the need for stronger support for families raising children.

 

Typhoon No. 6 swept along the Pacific coast of Japan and moved on.

Although the rain was heavy, the Yokosuka Line kept running, apparently without any significant delays.

So it can be done after all.

Standing in the rain and strong wind, gripping my umbrella while waiting in line for the bus to the hospital, I found myself thinking that perhaps I could have taken my usual train after all.

For me, however, the early start turned out to be a blessing.

I managed to finish more work than usual before the day truly began.

My mind still works far better in the morning than at any other time of day.

While my individual processing speed may have declined somewhat with age, I seem to have become better at organizing work and setting priorities. In the end, the two probably balance each other out.

The trip home yesterday was pleasant.

With schools closed, there were no students blocking the aisles with oversized sports bags or gathering around their phones playing games with friends.

Many office workers also appeared to be staying home, and the train seemed only about seventy percent full.

At times like that, I find myself a little envious of people who can switch to remote work whenever circumstances require it.

I felt the same way during the COVID pandemic. Situations like these remind me that being a doctor is, in many ways, still a hands-on profession.

Today, however, everything has returned to normal.

The familiar rush-hour crowds of students and commuters have come back.

The platforms are overflowing with students who were probably confined indoors all day yesterday because of the storm.

They can be a little inconvenient at times, but their presence brings energy and life.

Recently, it was announced that Japan recorded only 670,000 births last year, another historic low.

The figure reached that level about fifteen years earlier than government projections had predicted.

One cannot help wondering who made those calculations and what assumptions they were based on.

No matter what we do now, the days when large families were common are unlikely to return.

That is precisely why our institutions and social systems should be redesigned to reflect a society with fewer children.

Yet many of our systems still seem to assume that children are as numerous as they once were.

It is time to stop placing the burden of child-rearing primarily on parents and grandparents.

As a society, we need to provide far greater support for families with children and seriously reconsider the imbalance within our social security system, where so much of the burden is concentrated on the child-rearing generation.

A crowded platform may slow my commute, but seeing so many young faces is a reminder of something Japan cannot afford to take for granted. 

 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

sweep through　To move quickly and powerfully across an area.
（～を駆け抜ける、急速に通過する）

a blessing　Something that brings an unexpected benefit.
（思いがけない幸運、恩恵）

processing speed　The speed at which a person can think and handle information.
（情報処理能力、思考速度）

set priorities　To decide what is most important and should be done first.

（優先順位をつける）

hands-on profession　A job that requires physical presence and direct involvement.
（現場での直接的な対応が必要な職業）

overflow with　To be filled beyond normal capacity.
（あふれるほど満ちる）

declining birthrate　A decrease in the number of babies being born.
（少子化、出生率の低下）

child-rearing generation　People who are currently raising children.
（子育て世代）

social security system　A government-supported system providing pensions, healthcare, and welfare benefits.
（社会保障制度）

take for granted　To fail to appreciate something because it seems normal or always available.
（当たり前と思う、ありがたみを忘れる）

Idols, Geniuses, and the People Who Support Them

As a typhoon approached Japan, a passing thought about the idol group Arashi led me to reflect on idols, prodigies, and the often-overlooked role of those who support them.

 

When I looked out the window this morning, there was no wind. For a moment, I wondered if the typhoon had somehow missed us. But when I opened the window slightly, I could hear the rain pouring down.

The wind simply had not arrived yet.

Typhoon No. 6 had slowed its eastward movement, and since its center was still around Wakayama, I assumed the Yokosuka Line would continue running. I left home an hour earlier than usual just in case.

JR often suspends train services quickly in the name of safety, but today they seemed determined to keep things moving.

The Shonan-Shinjuku Line, however, had already been canceled the day before. That decision may have had as much to do with avoiding timetable chaos as with safety itself.

Schools appeared to be closed, and the station was unusually quiet without students. Outside, though, a camera crew and reporter from what looked like a local television station were already covering the storm.

Speaking of typhoons, the word naturally brings to mind Arashi—the famous Japanese idol group whose name literally means “storm.”

I recently learned that Arashi has officially disbanded.

I cannot immediately recall all five members, though I know who they are once I look them up online. They are now in their forties, and it is understandable that maintaining an image built around youthful idol culture eventually becomes difficult.

Perhaps the foundation of the idol business is the ability to capture public attention through youth and charm. The expertise behind that system must be remarkable.

Male idols attract female fans, female idols attract male fans, and both must continually enhance their value—not only through music, but also through appearance, singing ability, acting skills, and even conversational talent.

It is a world quite different from the traditional training paths followed by classical musicians or professional athletes. Because of that, I used to view it with a certain degree of skepticism.

Yet attracting and retaining tens or even hundreds of thousands of supporters is no small achievement. The industry may appear glamorous, but behind the scenes there must be intense effort and fierce competition.

On the other hand, there are people who emerge from more traditional forms of training and display extraordinary talent.

If idols become objects of admiration, then geniuses become another kind of object of admiration.

Recently, I watched a documentary about Himari, a young violinist who has already gained international attention.

Some musical prodigies lose interest in performing as they grow older. I can only hope that she continues to develop not only as a musician, but also as a healthy and well-balanced person.

In baseball, Shohei Ohtani has combined natural gifts with relentless effort to realize his extraordinary potential.

Professional sports are also a business, and marketing certainly matters. Still, like many great athletes, he probably loves the sport itself more than anything else.

Whether we are talking about idols or geniuses, neither can exist entirely on their own.

They become what they are because people support them, watch over them, evaluate them, spend money on them, and talk about them.

Our attention is naturally drawn to those standing in the spotlight, yet countless people around them help sustain that world. They, too, play an important role.

I do not have anyone I would call an “oshi”—a favorite celebrity, athlete, or performer whom I actively support.

But when I see people who find joy and meaning in cheering for someone else, I sometimes think that may be a rich and rewarding way to live as well.

 

Not everyone stands on the stage. Sometimes, simply being part of the audience is its own meaningful contribution. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

idol　A popular entertainer who attracts devoted fans, especially through music, television, or performance.　　: アイドル、有名な人気芸能人

skepticism　 Doubt or a questioning attitude toward something.　：懐疑的な見方、疑念

glamorous　Attractive, exciting, and associated with fame or luxury.: 華やかな、魅力的な

prodigy　 A young person with exceptional talent or ability.　: 神童、天才少年・少女

relentless Continuing with great determination and without stopping.: たゆまぬ、執拗な

potential Natural ability that can be developed into future success.: 潜在能力、可能性

spotlight　Public attention or fame.　: 注目の的、脚光

meaningful　Having importance, value, or purpose.　: 意義のある、意味深い

supporter　A person who encourages, helps, or follows someone or something.　: 支援者、応援する人

admiration Respect and approval for someone's qualities or achievements.　: 称賛、憧れ

Commuting Distance, Time, and Being a Pathologist

 As a pathologist living in Kamakura and commuting to Tokyo, I often think about the balance between where we live and where we work. With a typhoon approaching and my daughter now working in New York City, I was reminded that long commutes are not uniquely Japanese—they are part of life in many parts of the world.

 

Typhoon No. 6 is moving eastward along Japan’s Pacific coast, and it appears that Kamakura will be caught in heavy rain and strong winds beginning tonight.

I am already wondering what to do about tomorrow’s commute.

 Weather forecasters keep saying, “The storm is expected to coincide with the morning commute. Please make the necessary preparations.” In a sense, that sounds a bit irresponsible. Natural disasters are beyond human control, and there is only so much preparation one can make.

I briefly considered staying near the hospital tonight. However, since I only need to be present for an afternoon meeting tomorrow, I decided that if the trains are not running, I will simply wait until they start moving again rather than forcing the issue.

At times like this, I find myself thinking that perhaps I should have lived closer to work. But after first buying a condominium in Kamakura and later moving into a detached house, relocating is not something I can easily do.

My father bought a home less than thirty minutes by car from the hospital where he worked. His reasoning was simple: if he was called in during the middle of the night, he could arrive quickly.

He remained at the same hospital for nearly fifty years until retirement. I imagine that commuting was rarely a major concern for him.

My situation has been quite different.

There are no highly specialized pediatric pathology centers in the Kamakura area, so pursuing my career meant working outside the region. Over the years, various circumstances led me not only to positions in Tokyo but, for a time, even to Saitama.

Today, although my workplace is technically in Tokyo, it is on the far western side of the city. My one-way commute takes well over ninety minutes and often approaches two hours.

Yet I am hardly alone. The Yokosuka Line is crowded every day, suggesting that many people choose to live in Kamakura while working in Tokyo.

When people think about quality of life, many are willing to accept a longer commute in exchange for a more pleasant living environment.

For a long time, I thought this was a rather unusual choice. Then my daughter moved to New York City.

She was assigned an apartment in Manhattan, but she tells me that many people working in New York commute from New Jersey every day, crossing the Hudson River to reach their offices.

When I visited New York, I could understand why.

A quiet night free from the constant sound of sirens can be worth a surprisingly long commute. Whether in Japan or the United States, people often make similar choices when deciding where they want to build their lives.

A long commute can certainly be exhausting.

Fortunately, pathology is a specialty in which true emergencies are rare. There are responsibilities that require immediate attention, such as intraoperative consultations, but those are generally scheduled and anticipated.

Most of the time, I can simply go about my work as usual.

The commute may be long, but moments like this remind me that becoming a pathologist was probably the right choice for me.

 

The distance between home and work may be measured in miles or kilometers, but the reasons we choose where to live are often remarkably similar on both sides of the Pacific. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

commute　To travel regularly between home and work.　通勤する

relocation　The act of moving to a new place to live or work.　　転居、移転

detached house　A standalone house that is not connected to neighboring houses.　 一戸建て住宅

specialized　Focused on a particular field or area of expertise. 専門的な

quality of life　The overall level of comfort, health, and happiness in daily life.　生活の質

assigned　Officially given or allocated for a particular purpose.　割り当てられた

cross the Hudson River　 To travel across the river that separates New Jersey from Manhattan.　ハドソン川を渡る

siren　A loud warning sound used by emergency vehicles such as police cars and ambulances.　サイレン

exhausting　Very tiring; causing physical or mental fatigue.　疲れる、消耗する

intraoperative consultation　A rapid pathological diagnosis performed during surgery.　術中迅速診断

anticipated　 Expected or predicted in advance.　予期された

remarkably　To a surprising or notable degree.　驚くほど、著しく

on both sides of the Pacific　In both Asia and North America across the Pacific Ocean.　太平洋の両側で

pursue a career　To continue developing one's professional life.　キャリアを追求する

living environment　The surroundings and conditions in which a person lives.　住環境

 

Life Is a Collection of Reflections Along the Way

 As a typhoon slowly approaches Japan, I find myself reflecting on the many encounters and conversations that shape a life. Even small moments can leave lessons worth carrying forward.

 

A typhoon is lingering somewhere around Okinawa, and it is expected to reach Kamakura the day after tomorrow.

It seems wise to make at least some preparations.

Last weekend was filled with one thing after another, and I had little time to sit quietly and think.

Yet when I look back on those various events one by one, each seems meaningful in its own way.

Taking time to reflect on them, considering the character and thoughts of the people I met, is important to me.

Why did that person say what they did? Why did another behave in a certain way? What was the purpose behind their words or actions?

Thinking about such things is, I believe, part of growing as a human being.

And I suspect that this process continues until the day we die.

No—perhaps it is something we must consciously continue throughout our lives.

Even so, after a lifetime of meeting countless people and having countless conversations, I cannot possibly remember everything.

Still, if I happen to notice even the smallest insight, I would like to hold on to it rather than let it fade away, keeping it in my heart and adding it to the quiet accumulation of lessons that life offers.

Perhaps a life is not measured by what we remember, but by the wisdom we gather from what we choose not to forget. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners 

linger　　to remain somewhere longer than expected　（長く留まる）

reflect on　to think carefully about something（～について振り返って考える）

meaningful　having importance or value（意義深い）

character　a person's nature or personality　（人柄、人格）

purpose　the reason for doing something（目的）

suspect　to think something is probably true　（～ではないかと思う）

consciously　in a deliberate and thoughtful way　（意識的に）

countless　too many to count　（数え切れないほど多くの）

insight　a deep understanding or realization　（洞察、気づき）

accumulation　a gradual collection of things over time　（積み重ね、蓄積）

 

 

Only After Losing a Parent Do We Truly Understand

 Many people only realize the value of their parents after they are gone. Attending my father's seventh memorial service reminded me of how much wisdom and connection one person can leave behind.

 

My father's seventh memorial service was held today.

Time passes quickly. I have almost forgotten that he passed away during the COVID-19 pandemic.

These days, I often find myself wishing I could ask my father for advice. At this age, there are still many things I would like to discuss with him.

Only now do I truly understand how much his presence meant to me.

Sixteen relatives gathered for the service today. It was a respectable turnout.

In terms of age, the order was my mother, my uncle, and then me.

 

At some point, I realized that I had become one of the oldest members of the family. The thought quietly crossed my mind that my own turn may not be so far away.

Yet gatherings like this are possible because of occasions such as memorial services—and because of the people who brought our families together in the first place.

In that sense, today's gathering was made possible by my father.

I hope our relatives will continue to stay close and support one another for many years to come.

Sometimes, the people who continue to bring us together are those who are no longer here. 

 

・・・ 

Vocabulary for Learners

memorial service 追悼法要、法事
We attended a memorial service for our grandfather.

presence 存在、存在感
Her presence made everyone feel comfortable.

respectable turnout 立派な参加人数、良い出席率
The event attracted a respectable turnout despite the rain.

cross one's mind ふと思い浮かぶ
The idea crossed my mind while I was walking home.

bring people together 人々を結びつける
Family celebrations bring people together.

endure 続く、持続する
True friendships endure over time.

across generations 世代を超えて
Some traditions are passed down across generations.

support one another  互いに支え合う
Family members should support one another during difficult times.

The People Gathered Around the Sea of Bioluminescent Plankton

A rare natural phenomenon can transform an ordinary night into something extraordinary. Recently, red tide appeared along the coast of Kamakura, creating the conditions for bioluminescent plankton—known in Japan as yakōchū (“glow-in-the-dark insects of the sea”)—to light up the waves after dark.

I expected the sea to glow. What I did not expect was the number of people who would come to see it. Families with small children, groups of friends, and even noisy cars cruising the coastline all converged on the same destination. The glowing water was fascinating, but the crowd it attracted turned out to be even more memorable.

Yesterday, my wife had some errands in Hase and sent me a message saying that she had seen red tide along the way.

I replied that bioluminescent plankton would probably appear that night. Unfortunately, I was having dinner with friends and ended up getting home late.

Thankfully, my wife came to pick me up. I made it as far as Ōfuna on the Shōnan-Shinjuku Line without any trouble, but then I failed to notice that the platform had changed and missed a Yokosuka Line train. As a result, I kept her waiting longer than I intended.

She is not the type to sit idly in front of Kamakura Station, so she messaged me that she would drive around to Yuigahama while waiting.

Yet when I finally arrived, she did not show up for quite a while.

When she eventually appeared, she said:

“The traffic is terrible.”

I asked why there would be traffic so late at night.

“The beach is packed with people.”

That was when I realized what was happening.

Of course—everyone had come to see the bioluminescent plankton.

I asked if she would mind driving back toward the coast, and she gladly agreed.

The scene was astonishing.

There were crowds everywhere.

Many families had brought small children.

There were also plenty of cars that sounded as though they belonged to motorcycle gangs.

Route 134 was congested, and every parking lot was full.

In the end, all we managed to see was a faint blue band flickering in the distance over the dark sea.

Then we headed home.

What stayed with me was not the bioluminescent plankton itself, but the sight of so many people gathering along the shore in the middle of the night.

I suppose everyone had the same idea.

In a sense, the crowd was even more remarkable than the glowing sea.

Sometimes the most surprising part of a natural spectacle is not nature itself, but the people drawn to it. 

・・・ 

Vocabulary for Learners

bioluminescent plankton（発光プランクトン、夜光虫）
化学反応によって光を発するプランクトン。夜の海が青白く光って見える現象の原因。

red tide（赤潮）植物プランクトンなどが大量発生し、海水が赤茶色に見える現象。

congested（渋滞した、混雑した）交通や人の流れが集中してスムーズに動けない状態。
Route 134 was congested.（134号線は渋滞していた）

flicker（ちらちら光る、明滅する）光が弱く不規則に点滅すること。
The sea flickered blue in the distance.
（遠くの海が青くちらちら光っていた）

shore（海岸、浜辺）海や湖に接する陸地。
People gathered along the shore.（人々が海岸に集まった）

spectacle（壮観な光景、見世物）人々の目を引く印象的な光景。
It was a remarkable spectacle.（それは印象的な光景だった）

drawn to ～（～に引き寄せられる、惹きつけられる）興味や魅力によって自然と向かうこと。
People were drawn to the glowing sea.
（人々は光る海に引き寄せられた）

idle（何もせずに過ごす）特に目的なく時間を過ごすこと。
She is not the type to sit idly and wait.
（彼女はただぼんやり待っているタイプではない）

remarkable（注目すべき、驚くべき）印象的で記憶に残るような。
The crowd was remarkable.
（その人出は驚くべきものだった）

A Sleep-Deprived Morning, and One Small Senryu

A humid morning in Kamakura, a poor night’s sleep, and a manuscript reminder arriving through Facebook. One worry leads to another, and before long the mind refuses to rest. This short essay ends with a Japanese-style comic verse about modern life, where reminders now come through email, LINE, and social media.

The humidity has been high since morning, and the discomfort index keeps rising.

Last night, Kamakura was wrapped in an even deeper fog than usual, and visibility was badly impaired.

After I came home, a reminder about a manuscript arrived through Facebook, and once I saw it, I could not fall asleep.

Just when I finally began to feel sleepy, I started thinking about a research meeting I will be helping to organize next year, and my eyes opened wide again.

These things tend to come in chains. One thought leads to another.

I tried the sleep method of “relaxing the whole body and thinking about nothing,” but into the empty space I had tried to create in my mind, various thoughts began to seep in and spread like stains.

I slept for less than four and a half hours.

Not enough.

Even on weekdays, I would like to sleep at least five and a half hours, but that is not always easy.

If I took medicine, I could probably sleep a little longer, but I do not like the idea of relying on it too often.

So today, I will cut this post short and get to work on finishing the manuscript for which I have been reminded.

Come to think of it, this morning’s news mentioned Sara Senryu, formerly known as Salaryman Senryu.

Senryu is a short Japanese comic verse, similar in form to haiku, but usually more humorous and focused on everyday human life. Sara Senryu is a popular contest in Japan that captures the small frustrations, ironies, and absurdities of working life.

So here is one of my own:

　　　　Reminders come
　　　　by email, LINE, and SNS—
　　　　no place left to hide.

In modern society, even pretending not to be home no longer works.

There is nowhere to escape.

 

In modern life, even silence has too many notification channels. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• humidity：湿度
• discomfort index：不快指数
• visibility：視界
• manuscript reminder：原稿の催促
• to seep in：しみ込む、入り込む
• to rely on：頼る、依存する
• senryu：川柳。俳句と同じ五七五形式だが、日常や人間模様をユーモラスに詠む短詩
• no place left to hide：逃げ場がない
• notification channels：通知手段、連絡経路

Naoto Takenaka: Japan’s One-of-a-Kind “Strange Actor”

 Some actors are great because they disappear into their roles. Others are unforgettable because their own strange, magnetic presence always shines through. For me, Naoto Takenaka belongs firmly to the second group.

 

In this year’s NHK historical drama Toyotomi Brothers, there was an unforgettable scene last week featuring Naoto Takenaka as Hisahide Matsunaga.

Standing in a room engulfed in flames, Matsunaga declares to the brothers, “Whether something is real or fake — such things do not matter.” Then, with a truly explosive intensity, he dies in the blaze.

Earlier in the episode, another line also stayed with me: “If I told you that ___, would you believe me?”

I have been a fan of Naoto Takenaka ever since his famous comedy routine in which he “gets angry while laughing.” He has entertained me for decades.

The shape of his head, those bulging eyes, and above all, that beautiful voice.

That voice — precisely because of that voice — makes his bizarre performances shine.

To me, he is a one-of-a-kind kaiyu.

The word kaiyu is difficult to translate. It literally means something like “strange actor” or “eccentric actor,” but that does not quite capture it. A kaiyu is not merely a good actor. He is someone whose presence is odd, magnetic, funny, unsettling, and unforgettable all at once.

When I think of actors like that, the first names that come to mind are Danny DeVito as the Penguin in Batman Returns, Jim Carrey in The Mask, and Rowan Atkinson as Mr. Bean.

Some people might also call Jack Nicholson or Willem Dafoe kaiyu-type actors, but that is not quite my image of the word.

In Japan, when people talk about kaiyu, names such as Rentaro Mikuni, Teruyuki Kagawa, or Akira Emoto often come up. They are all great actors, of course. But to me, they feel slightly different.

If an actor fits too naturally into serious drama, I hesitate to call him a kaiyu.

Other than Naoto Takenaka, the only Japanese actor who comes to mind for me is Takeshi Kitano, internationally known as Beat Takeshi. His performance as Sergeant Hara in Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence was magnificent.

But in the end, this is just a matter of personal taste, so perhaps it does not really matter.

For me, a kaiyu is an actor who is obviously talented, but also someone whose debut or breakthrough role left such a strong impression that the image follows him forever — and instead of trying to erase that image, he embraces it and turns it into part of his own character.

Of course, we can never know exactly where the actor ends and the performance begins. But because those two things are mixed together so completely, watching him is always a pleasure.

In that sense, Naoto Takenaka remains the best of the best.

I hope he continues to thrive. He is apparently still only around seventy, so I expect he will keep surprising us in all sorts of roles for another twenty years or so.

 Some actors play strange characters. Naoto Takenaka makes strangeness itself feel like an art form.

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• one-of-a-kind — 唯一無二の
• eccentric — 風変わりな、奇妙な魅力のある
• engulfed in flames — 炎に包まれた
• explosive intensity — 爆発的な迫力
• bulging eyes — ギョロ目
• bizarre performance — 怪演、奇妙で強烈な演技
• magnetic presence — 人を引きつける存在感
• unsettling — 不安にさせる、不気味な
• breakthrough role — 出世作となった役
• embrace — 受け入れる、自分のものにする
• where the actor ends and the performance begins — どこまでが本人で、どこからが演技なのか
• thrive — 活躍する、成功し続ける
• art form — 芸術形式、芸の域

 

Secondhand Words Have No Soul

 As the rainy season approaches, even a morning walk begins to feel different. A small change in daily routine leads to a larger reflection on writing, rewriting, and the strange lifelessness that sometimes appears when old words are reused. This essay considers why freshly written words may carry something that polished secondhand words cannot.

 

The rainy season is slowly drawing near.

My wife and Anne walked with me to the station, but halfway there I began to feel sweaty.

My wife said that our morning walks would soon have to be shifted to the very early hours.

Perhaps I should also stop walking in a jacket.

Once that happens, we will have to change all sorts of small routines—making lunch, taking out the garbage, and so on—which feels rather troublesome.

When living with a dog, the cold of winter may actually be easier.

Hatena Blog suggests related articles from the past.

Among them, I found a somewhat nostalgic three-part series. When I opened it, the content was more interesting than I had expected.

I thought that perhaps, if I rewrote it now, I could make it better. So, as a trial, I had ChatGPT summarize the three articles and tried to write a revised version based on that summary.

The result had a reasonably coherent meaning.

But somehow, it was not interesting to read.

Other people might still find the content interesting.

And yet, the writing had no movement, no sense of life.

The same thing happens when speaking to people.

When I talk while thinking, words come out with force and momentum.

But when I read from a manuscript, I am merely reading words that have once been pasted onto paper.

Like a carp laid out on a cutting board, the words are already half dead.

So I gave up on writing a remake, or a second brew of an old article, and instead began writing a new piece—this very piece.

Of course, I do not mind correcting particles, typos, or small mistakes in old articles.

Still, even those flaws may express the momentum of the writing, and perhaps they can be overlooked to some extent.

Words have a soul.

And perhaps that soul belongs only to words that have just been written, or words that have just left someone’s mouth.

Once words or sentences have been released, they eventually die there.

Of course, many works remain as literature.

But a secondhand version of them will never carry the same soul.

Perhaps this is what we mean by work that only human beings can do.

 

A secondhand version of words may be polished, but it cannot inherit the soul of the moment in which they were born.

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• secondhand words：二番煎じの言葉、借り物の言葉
• have no soul：魂がない、生気がない
• coherent meaning：筋の通った意味
• momentum：勢い、流れ
• pasted onto paper：紙に貼り付けられた
• half dead：半ば死んでいる
• a second brew：二番煎じ
• overlooked to some extent：ある程度は目をつむってよい
• carry the same soul：同じ魂を宿す
• the moment in which they were born：言葉が生まれた瞬間

 

My Convenience May Be Your Inconvenience

 When organizing an academic conference program, I was reminded that what seems reasonable from my side may not feel reasonable to someone else. We all have our own expectations, but those expectations are often little more than personal wishes. From conference schedules to international conflicts, misunderstandings begin when one side forgets that the other side also has its own circumstances.

 

When I put together the program for an academic conference, someone complained to me, saying, “But this was what I wanted to do.”

Well, to be more precise, it was probably not so much that this person wanted to do it personally, but rather that they wanted one of their pupils to present their own research. Still, in this world, all sorts of unexpected circumstances arise.

Nothing ever fits perfectly into the shape we had imagined.

Our expectations are betrayed again and again, but expectations themselves are often selfish wishes in disguise.

Even when it comes to the themes and order of presentations at an academic meeting, each speaker has their own circumstances. My wishes cannot possibly match the convenience of every participant.

Even when I ask someone to do something with good intentions, thinking it may help them grow, there will always be people who find the request troublesome or burdensome.

My convenience may well be someone else’s inconvenience.

If we look beyond our immediate surroundings, even regional conflicts have arguments on both sides.

Because I am Japanese, I inevitably tend to think first from Japan’s point of view. But the countries and regions surrounding Japan also have their own circumstances.

Food supply, population issues, climate problems, political systems—the list goes on.

That is why it is meaningless to condemn the other side one-sidedly and, in the end, let things turn into war.

Everyone should understand this. And yet, before people sit down and talk, someone strikes first, and something irreversible happens.

Human beings are foolish creatures.

I myself have probably caused trouble for others and pushed people away without realizing it, simply because I have acted according to my own convenience.

It is regrettable, but some things cannot be undone.

What is convenient for me may already be inconvenient for someone else. 

・・・

Vocabulary for Learners

• convenience：都合、便利さ
• inconvenience：不都合、迷惑
• complain：不満を言う
• pupil：弟子、教え子
• circumstances：事情
• selfish wishes in disguise：身勝手な願望が姿を変えたもの
• burdensome：負担になる、面倒な
• one-sidedly：一方的に
• irreversible：取り返しのつかない
• cannot be undone：元には戻せない、取り返しがつかない