The true nature of 'yokkoisho' is a blunt boost command sent from monks 1,000 years ago.

Lately, I feel as if gravity has increased only around me.

It is already the latter half of April.

The tension I held to adapt to a new environment has loosened in a fleeting moment, and the daily fatigue seems to rush into that gap.

Sitting in a chair. Or, standing up from the floor.

Before performing such ordinary movements, a few seconds of silence are required. A quiet pause, as if my body is re-measuring its own heavy mass.

That is when that sound spills out from my mouth on its own.

Yokkoisho.

That mysterious sound that leaks quietly from the back of my throat, even though I have no intention of letting anyone hear it.

The moment I say it, I feel a tinge of sadness, wondering if I, too, have finally crossed over to that side—am I the only one who feels this way?

However, this sound that leaks out as an ignition for movement.

It seems it was actually quite a practical spell.

A slight explosion to move the body

Why do we say 'yokkoisho' even when no one asks us to?

Its true nature was a boost (acceleration command) that the brain sends to the body.

In the worlds of psychology and physiology, there is a phenomenon called the shout effect.

It is the same principle as when tennis players shout 'Ha!' while hitting the ball, or when weightlifters let out a loud cry.

By vocalizing, the brain is stimulated, temporarily increasing muscle output.

In a sense, it is a legitimate release key to momentarily disengage the muscle output limiter in the brain.

We think we are just standing up from a chair, but for a body that has accumulated fatigue, it might be a task on the same level as a professional athlete taking on a match.

The brain is desperately continuing to chant the spell to make its owner stand up.

A monk from a thousand years ago and the dust on a yoga mat

What is even more interesting is its etymology.

One theory suggests that it originates from the phrase rokkon shojo (purification of the six senses) chanted by mountain ascetics.

The eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and consciousness.

A prayer of purification to wash away the impurities clinging to the six senses inherent in human beings.

Over many years, it evolved from rokkon shojo to dokkoisho, and finally to our current yokkoisho.

Yes, every time we stand up, we have been purifying ourselves without even realizing it.

That strange silence in the middle of a living room where the vacuuming isn't even finished, as if one were standing alone on the peak of a sacred mountain.

If a monk from a thousand years ago heard the sound of my knees popping right now, what kind of face would they make?

However, the effect of the spell is only for a moment.

Even if you manage to stand up perfectly with the spell, reality is endlessly rude; the yoga mat left spread out on the floor has become a runway for dust, and a geological layer of junk mail you don't remember receiving has piled up on the table.

In a world where we cannot walk without a spell

What if the word yokkoisho were to disappear from the world tomorrow?

Japanese offices and living rooms might be quietly filled with adults who can no longer stand up, unable to bear the accumulated gravity of their daily lives.

Recently, even my three-year-old daughter, whose joints should still be brand new, has started cheekily imitating me, saying 'yokkoisho' every time she picks up a toy.

Your six senses should still be sparkling clean, with not a single impurity to purify... I think to myself, feeling a touch of fear and a strange sense of solidarity at the sheer contagiousness of that spell.

It is no longer just when I stand up; even when I reach for the remote or just stare at the pile of accumulated junk mail, a small spell leaks from my throat.

But perhaps it is the cheapest form of self-affirmation that my body, trying to somehow get through the unmanageable daily grind, chants for me without my knowing.

So, you can chant it proudly tomorrow, too! Even if your knees pop, even if your lower back feels heavy.

Today, too, we will live on, lifting this big world with a 'yokkoisho,' along with our own personal spells.

Doesn't thinking about it that way make this gravity-filled daily life seem a little more amusing and mysterious?

▼ For those who want to gaze at a bit more 'mystery'

Perhaps, like a spell we chant every time we stand up, there are 'memories from the distant past' etched into our bodies that we aren't even aware of.

Have you ever despaired in front of the morning mirror, thinking, 'Why now of all times?' It's about that inconvenient mechanism where, just like with a vocal grunt, the body reacts on its own, ignoring the person's will.