The Work of Designing a Life

The first typhoon of the year has passed.

A morning when the sound of the wind has quieted.

I found the loquats in the garden ripening and picked one up.

I peel the soft skin and pop it into my mouth.

There is a sense in the freshly picked fruit of eating the season itself.

It is a change I might have overlooked if I were busy, but this is how the seasons progress, little by little.

On such a morning, I suddenly remembered the time I spent working as an occupational therapist.

Today, I would like to write a little about that.

My articles so far have focused on spirituality and symbols, but one of the things that shapes who I am is the time I spent as an occupational therapist.

I have experienced various fields, including recovery, cardiovascular, home care, acute care, general wards, and long-term care wards.

Last year, when my health declined, it gave me time to seriously re-examine how I live my life.

Continuing to work within a hospital organization.

The future that lies beyond that.

And what kind of life do I truly want to live?

Such questions gradually grew larger.

It is not that I came to dislike working in hospitals or facilities.

On the contrary, I was allowed to learn many things.

However, once I thought,

“I want to try living a life that doesn't depend on an organization,”

I could no longer pretend that thought didn't exist.

The job of an occupational therapist is often called “a job that supports a life that is true to the person.”

But for me, I think it was

“the work of designing a life.”

What kind of life do you want to lead after being discharged?

What do you want to cherish?

What kind of future do you hope for?

It was a job that looked not only at physical function, but at the person's life itself.

That is why I was truly happy when I could support a patient's “I want to do this.”

And at the same time, I began to think about my own life.

For the patient.

For my family.

For someone else.

And so the day ends.

That is noble.

But is that way of living the only correct answer?

What do I myself desire?

As a result of continuing to ask that question,

the thought was born: “I want to explore a freer way of working and living.”

But looking back, what I have cherished as an occupational therapist has not changed.

I still read symbols.

I write poetry.

I listen to someone's story.

I put my own experiences into words.

What the other person takes from that is up to them.

It might be a hint for something, or it might not.

I just hope it becomes a trigger for that person to look at their own life.

It was the same with rehabilitation work.

We are not the protagonists.

We cannot live the patient's life.

That is why we were in a position to stand by them like a stagehand and watch them start walking.

I think that remains unchanged even now.

It is always the person themselves who decides their life.

Changing jobs.

Moving.

Marriage.

You cannot have someone else decide these things for you.

In the rehabilitation setting, I was taught that many times.

A person who started painting in their seventies and won an award at ninety.

A person who posted their work on Instagram in their eighties while continuing home oxygen therapy for emphysema.

I have encountered lives many times where the words “it's too late” do not apply.

While I was in a position to support patients, I think I was actually the one being taught many things.

The time I spent touching various lives and sharing various emotions is now my treasure.

It was because of that experience that I became interested in the world outside the hospital.

Recently, I have stopped trying to explain who I am.

Occupational therapist.

Card reader.

Poet.

None of those are wrong.

But the truth is simpler.

I just,

wanted to try living this kind of life.

Stopping to look at flowers,

reading symbols,

writing words,

and listening to someone's life.

I want to live that kind of life.

Thinking that,

I am now beginning to walk that path.

Perhaps reasons can be given later as much as one likes.
But I believe that life, unexpectedly,

starts with “I want to try.”

And supporting such small “I want to try” moments.

That, too, might be for me

“the work of designing a life.”

From the Library of Moonlight

If you have come to want to read the continuation of this page.


A record looking back on the time when I lost sight of the path I was taking
and came to a standstill.

A record detailing why I view tarot as brain training.

Both are
books that act like small passages leading to this one.

And,
about the Sabian symbols
that became the trigger for finding an exit
when I stood at a crossroads in life.

If you are interested, please walk through the bookshelf a little more.