“There is no such thing as a 'self'.” Therefore, you are not alone. | Book Review

I decided to participate in #AutumnReading2025 and chose one of the assigned books.
Among the many masterpieces, this was the only one for me.

“There is no such thing as a 'self'.”

After all, isn't this title amazing?

In this great era of self-discovery, with its booms in self-analysis and personality diagnostics, everyone is bound to be shocked by it.

I, for one, have exhausted every possible search for self—self-analysis, analysis by others, MBTI, StrengthsFinder, animal fortune-telling, love type diagnostics, Four Pillars of Destiny, Sanmeigaku, palm reading, etc.—in search of my so-called true essence.

And to sum it all up in just one phrase: “There is no such thing.”

I love it.

They really went there, didn't they? I love having my head hit with a hammer like this...!

The author, once a local child prodigy, became unemployed at 32 and got divorced.
When he couldn't get out of his futon at his parents' house due to a sense of emptiness, what he encountered was Eastern philosophy (Buddhism).

This book is an essay that chronicles his journey of realization and rebirth, with both laughter and tears.

Now, before diving into the content of “Eastern philosophy (Buddhism),” here are my thoughts on the author, Shinmei P himself.

The first word of the book starts with “Emptiness!” and it is impressive how he writes about his own painful experiences with such catchy, energetic prose.

He writes somewhat softly that he “couldn't get out of his futon,” but he must have been in a state of mental illness that would surely have received some kind of diagnosis at a medical institution...

To continue a dialogue with “Eastern philosophy (Buddhism)” amidst all that and escape the sense of emptiness on his own, I thought he might be the hero of heroes, or rather, the Buddha of Buddhas.

Reading his writing, I feel that someone who has let go of everything and become empty has no unnecessary pride, is refreshing, and is somehow pop.

I felt a sense of service in how he pokes fun at himself throughout, showing his “dark history” and everything else to entertain the reader, and that touched my heart.

And regarding the abstract concepts of Eastern philosophy, I felt this book was written with a very honest and pleasant sense of balance, saying, “There are parts I don't understand, but this is what I thought.”

Therefore, even if you have put your guard up against the provocative title, I hope you will feel safe picking it up.

So that's what the mindfulness concept of “Emptiness” refers to.

An unexpected discovery was that concepts and sensations I thought belonged only to Buddhist monks were things I was already familiar with.

Particularly interesting is the concept of "Sunyata (Emptiness) taught by Nagarjuna".

That's right, I actually knew it.
Or rather, we all realize it, and on top of that, we live in society while successfully playing our roles, didn't we?

The things I thought were 'me' are all things that cannot exist on their own. Because there are 'words' that allow us to belong to the world of 'fiction,' it seems as if they exist, but this is not their true nature.

The author says that when the world of 'fiction' is lifted, you can feel the 'Emptiness' that Nagarjuna spoke of.

For example, his realization that a classroom after a graduation ceremony might be 'Emptiness'... made me slap my knee in agreement.

I thought that was a filter caused by nostalgia, but perhaps the end of the story called 'student life' had brought 'Emptiness' to my heart.

By the way, I also like to go see abandoned school buildings from the Showa era. When I am all alone in the empty hallways or classrooms, I get a strange feeling.

I stare intently at the wood grain of the floor and think about how the trees from the mountains gathered here to create a 'school'...

And, I also like going abroad, and I wanted to share the feeling I get there as well.

When you say 'traveling abroad,' there is the pattern of going to tourist spots and World Heritage sites that excite everyone, and the pattern of wandering around a town alone without a destination.

The former provides excitement and emotion that is truly 'Disneyland'-like, but the one I think might be 'Emptiness' is the latter—that feeling of landing alone in a place you don't know well.

When I arrive early in the morning and walk around a town that is still asleep, the mindful sensation is pleasant.

I don't know what language the man I just passed will start speaking.
And to him, I am also an unknown entity.

I think about how I might have looked to him, and for some reason, I almost start grinning.

In this place, at least, even if I told a complete lie—that I am a Harvard student, a wandering painter, or a girl raised by mountain dogs—it might just hold up.

My profile, such as my educational background and work history, which I thought were the truth, has been invalidated here. At the very least, the man from earlier wouldn't understand it.

Despite feeling like I am nobody, there is no loneliness or emptiness; rather, I feel somewhat refreshed.

The air tastes good, and the blue of the sky reflected in the puddles is beautiful. The wind feels pleasant.

The comfort of stepping out of the fiction I thought was my world, and the realization that this might be what "emptiness" is... finding that out was a happy miscalculation.

I have acquired the ultimate weapon: 'Prapanca'

Next, I liked the story of "Prapanca" (Keron), which wipes away all worries with the philosophy of "emptiness".

In the first place, we mistakenly believe that an unchanging essence of a person exists, and we build up erroneous logic such as "I can't do my job because I have no talent" or "I can't get married because I am a weak person," and we end up worrying.

When I look back on the time when I was mentally unwell, I thought that things weren't going well because I had issues, so I repeated self-analysis and introspection, and I was obsessed with "finding myself" at all costs.

For example, when I couldn't find a job for a long time, I was caught up in intense delusions like, "Maybe I'm a know-it-all, naive, cheeky, and a social misfit," and I was seriously sobbing.

When my love life wasn't going well, I fell into depression with the conclusion I had reached on my own: "I'm not cute, I'm bad at relying on others, and I can't read the room, so men won't love me."

It was so painful that I went to counseling, and I was told, "Let's stop looking for the cause."

I had consulted them wanting a professional in psychology to see through my so-called essence...

In conclusion, this was the best prescription.

When I thought I didn't have to think about it anymore, I forgot to think before I knew it, and the me who breathes easily and laughs out loud returned.

That was exactly what "Prapanca" was!

The world is overflowing with self-analysis tools. The negative self-image from earlier was also my own logic, built by adding grateful advice like "your weaknesses" or "be careful of ~" from the results of various "personality tests."
The more I verbalized my strengths and weaknesses while mixing in episodes, the more I created something that felt like me but wasn't, and I fell into a quagmire. The "magic of words" is a terrifying thing.

The diagnosis results are neither everything about me nor an essence that will never change. Everything was a story I created myself.

The problems I needed to solve, and the value or ability I needed to prove correctly, were not there.

It's no use looking for something that doesn't exist.

These two sentences alone in this book filled my heart.
And they also reminded me of my grandmother.

When I was a child, whenever my parents would fight, I would run away to my grandmother's room. I would try my best to explain, "Dad said this, and Mom said that," hoping she would mediate for us.

My grandmother would only say, "It's okay, it's okay," and I would be frustrated, thinking, "Do you really understand?"

But, it really was okay.
This doesn't mean that my parents are still together, but rather that being a married couple, or getting a divorce, are both fictions under the spell of "words."

Does that sound lonely? I find it to be a very positive feeling.

Whether or not there is a story called marriage or family, we are absolutely connected.

When you think you are all alone, that thought itself cannot hold true.

Touching upon the philosophy of "emptiness" makes me feel excited.

If you have been under the "spell of words" that defines who you are, you might as well use it to your advantage and become the "self you want to be," and you can step out of that at any time.

Instead of continuing to play the tragic heroine, you can enjoy a comedy or an adventure story. I feel wrapped in that kind of excitement.

I think this becomes the ultimate weapon for those who are swayed by worries and anxieties.

What I want to keep in mind when engaging with "Eastern philosophy" is that these are ideas born tomake life easier.

Words like "the truth of the world" are trendy, but I don't want to use them as tools to assert superiority, like "I am closer to the truth than others...!"

Besides, if you only trace the knowledge, when someone confides their worries to you, you might end up dismissing them by saying, "There's no point in thinking about it," or "You are nobody."

Rather than leaning into nihilism like that, I think Eastern philosophy proposes a positive way of living: "You can leave this story at any time, and you can step down from this role. Why not create a story that is more comfortable for you?"

There is no point in swinging around a precious sword just to attack someone.

To the person who confides their worries to me, I will offer this precious sword while keeping it properly sheathed! (It's up to them whether they use it or not.)

I think that kind of vibe is good.

First, I'll recommend this book!
And, I would be happy if you read my article as well.

Thank you very much for reading until the end.
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