You are always by your side.

Lately, I have been attending a series of reunions and class gatherings.
From class reunions where we say, "The last time we all met was right before COVID, wasn't it?" to gatherings where we say, "It's been ten years, hasn't it?"
Seeing the energetic faces of old friends is truly a joy, and at the same time, it brings back the scenes from when we last met, leaving me with a slightly strange feeling.

There was a reunion for my university circle exactly ten years ago.
Back then, my struggles with raising children were at their peak... I was completely, truly at my limit.
The water of sadness was filled to the brim in the skin bag that was my body, and perhaps I had slightly exceeded my limits.
The skin bag, stretched thin by the overflowing water, was like a water balloon. With the slightest stimulation, it burst... and at the drinking party with my old friends, I cried out loud, sobbing uncontrollably.
Once a water balloon breaks, it never returns to its original state, and my tears did not dry up until the end of the gathering. Yeah, I cried a lot back then.
(Everyone must have been so surprised...)
At this long-awaited gathering, while feeling a bit embarrassed about my past behavior, I also remembered it with a sense of warmth.

Even though ten years have passed, I felt happy once again that I am now someone who can look back on that with a smile.
Things I didn't understand back then, I can understand a little better now.
If I could meet the me of that day who was sobbing, what would I tell myself?

I would like to write about that from this perspective, just as it comes to mind.

One of the major changes that has occurred in my life over these ten years might be the realization that "I am never alone, no matter what."
No matter what.
Even when I seem to be all alone.
Because, in the first place, I was born into this world as a collective entity.
You could also say that I was born as part of a team.

The first one to teach me that was "Body-san."

In the midst of a mental state where I couldn't stop crying at a drinking party, I was suffering from poor physical health at the time.
That is precisely why I became interested in the body and had a period where I devoured information about it through self-study, and in that process, I encountered "Body-san."

Starting from nutrition, passing through various perspectives such as osteopathy and anatomy, and then moving on to the study of posture, which I would become most interested in later.
As my body became balanced from the inside out, I became closer to my own body.
And then, one day, finally,
"The body wasn't just a part of me!"
I realized that.
Because, before I knew it, "Body-san" was standing there with a strong sense of presence.
The "person" who existed there, overlapping with "myself," had a mysterious appearance, more like outer space than a human.
The countless cells that make up the body turned into sparkling stars, twinkling within "that person"—.
When I first encountered that "universe," I was so overwhelmed that I forgot myself, thinking about how beautiful my own body was.

I think "Body-san" was there long before I noticed. Probably since the moment I was born into this world.
It feels a bit regrettable that I spent so long assuming the body was just "a part of myself" without knowing that.
Because if you have ears to listen, "Body-san" teaches you so many things.
When there is pain or discomfort, it tells me quite specifically what to do. Since I started following that voice honestly, my daily life has become surprisingly comfortable.

Above all, I have become able to have "compassion" for my body.
When I felt it was just a part of me, it was natural to push my body and make it work hard. I didn't even have the idea of having compassion for my body, but now, if it seems tired, I wish for it to "please rest properly," and if I'm in good health, I feel my heart swell with joy, thinking, "Oh, Body-san is happy!"

By the time I became close to "Body-san" like that, I also began to feel very close to the other teammates who were born into this world with me—my "companions."
"Kokoro-san" (Heart-san) is one of them.

Regarding "Kokoro-san," I described it in a past article, "My Inner Child, and the Story of the Field," so please take a look at that if you'd like.

Ten years ago, when I was sobbing at the reunion, I hadn't yet met "Body-san" or "Kokoro-san," and I felt like I was all alone.
Of course, my family and friends were nearby, but I always felt somewhere in my heart that no one would help me...
I'm in so much pain, I'm so sad, yet no one will help me out of this. Won't someone, anyone, appear and save me!
I was clinging to such thoughts.

I understand well now that that is why I became even more miserable...
Seeking "support," I kept leaning more and more "diagonally."

Relying on people is, of course, not a bad thing.
But if you blindly seek "support" and look for something to "lean on," you will find it difficult to stand "upright" without realizing it.
Moreover, without noticing the many things that are already supporting you, if you keep looking outside for "something to lean on," crying, "No one will help me. Help me. Help me," the "tilt" becomes so great that no one can support it anymore.

It was "Kokoro-san" who reminded me that I had two legs... and two arms!

As I wrote in a past article, my "Kokoro-san" has the appearance of a young child.
One could interpret that my "Kokoro-san" just happens to be that way, but I believe that the existence generally called an "inner child" is this "Kokoro-san"... and if so, I interpret it as meaning that for many people, "Kokoro-san" takes the form of a child.

When I first met her, my "Kokoro-san" was a little girl crying her heart out.
Seeing her stiffen and sob continuously made my heart ache—I instinctively hugged her and shed tears with her.
My heart was shaken violently, and almost reflexively and impulsively, I strongly, strongly wished that I could support this child.

It was some time after that encounter that I came to firmly recognize this little girl as "Kokoro-san," but I feel that the thought I felt impulsively at that time, "I want to support this child," is what made me stand on my own two legs...
At the same time, it reminded me to embrace her with my two arms.
From that day on, I began to hug myself from time to time.
With my two arms, gently. Sometimes, tightly...
That just by doing that, I could gradually regain my own center of gravity—I think now, once again, that that little girl taught me something quite amazing.

Even after meeting "Kokoro-san," the days spent in sadness continued for a while, but even so, there were important things I gradually came to understand.

The fact that it is actually not "me" who is feeling sad.

I imagine everyone has experienced this at some point.
Tears suddenly welling up without intention, or being overcome by anxiety for no clear reason.
Why can't I control my own emotions? The answer to that question was actually very simple.
Because emotions do not belong to me.

Emotions belonged to 'Kokoro-san' (the heart).
The sadness I felt was 'my own,' and the pain that made me want to cry my eyes out, were actually not mine, but belonged to 'Kokoro-san'—that little girl.
If that was the case, I just needed to support her.
The feeling of wanting someone to help me was something I just needed to direct toward 'Kokoro-san' myself.

I can support myself.
When that realization truly sank in, I was no longer in pain at all.
It wasn't that the situation surrounding me suddenly improved.
In the midst of an unchanging situation, I simply became able to stand on my own two feet.
I just became able to embrace myself and the people around me with my own two arms.
But that was enough.
That was truly enough.

Realizing that the heart belongs to 'Kokoro-san'.
Knowing that the body belongs to 'Karada-san' (the body).
I never could have imagined ten years ago that such an important key would be found in a place like that.
I feel like I want to tell that to the me of that day who was sobbing, but if I could really meet myself back then, I think I wouldn't say anything at all, and would just want to hug myself from behind.
Me. You're doing your best. Thank you for your hard work...

And then, perhaps I would just quietly pray.
May the day come when you realize who your 'companions' are...
You are always by your side.
May the day surely come when you understand how reassuring that is.

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