Talking on the Circular Notice
When my children were in elementary school,
I would occasionally ask them this question.
"Why do you think you go to school?"
My natural miracle boy, Taro, said,
"To meet my friends!"
My cautious and earnest Hana-chan said,
"...To get smarter?"
Yes, yes.
Neither of them is wrong.
Actually, I don't think there are any wrong answers.
However,
Couldn't you meet your friends without going to school?
If you wanted to get smarter, wouldn't it be more efficient to solve workbooks by yourself?
That question arises, too.
"Mom, why do you think?"
Well.
I think, Mom,
that we go to meet "people who are different from ourselves."
Not just the friends we choose,
and not just to have lessons taught to us,
but because we happened to be born in the same year,
and happened to live nearby,
gathered together for just that reason,
in that kind of inconvenient environment,
feeling a sense of discomfort,
feeling the pain of not being understood,
knowing the joy of understanding one another,
wanting to cherish someone,
and suffering when things don't go well.
I think all of these are necessary experiences for living life.
That's why I think it's better for problems to arise,
and that it's when they arise that true dialogue can happen.
I want school to be that kind of place.
I was happy to read this article by Yo-san.
It's not that I want to pry.
It's just that I'm a little curious.
About your everyday lives.
There are many people who write things in this place, and thankfully, there are people who read my articles.
I wonder what kind of lives they lead to be able to write like this, and what kind of emotions they received from my articles.
Perhaps it's because recently, I've started to become curious about things outside of my own inner world, little by little. I am in the middle of trying to come up from the sea to the land.
Yo-san, you've recently become interested in what kind of lives others are leading,
and what they are feeling.
Yes, that's exactly it.
Even if you stare at yourself, you surprisingly don't know yourself.
Through dialogue and observation with others, the differences from yourself become visible.
And that is how I think you can finally see the vague shape of yourself.
Knowing that there are many other "normals" in this world besides yourself broadens your heart.
Several years ago on TV, Hikaru Ijuin said,
"If I were the only person in this world, I don't think I would realize that I am overweight,"
and I really love that quote.
When I was young, I also used to stare only at myself, wondering why I was the way I was, and why I couldn't do things like other people, and I would brood over it.
Back then, I felt lonelier when I was in a group.
It was easier to be alone.
However, as I gradually experienced various failures in this world and got used to things, I also gained the breathing room to look around me.
Now, I might even be trying to get involved with people to the point of being brazen.
Perhaps you, Yo-san, have also started to gain the breathing room to look around.
And I am very happy that you have naturally started to take an interest in other people.
A book titled "Philosophers Underwater" by Rei Nagai.
It is one of my favorite books.
Rei Nagai conducts what she calls "philosophical dialogue" in various places, such as elementary schools and community gatherings.
Ordinary people who are not philosophers think about and discuss small, everyday questions, and search for their own answers.
Even for things that are vague and hard to put into words,
we listen intently.
We all gaze at these tangled things together, and that time spent
faintly touching upon something like an answer that is hard to grasp
feels like a very precious and important time.
It is very interesting, so if you'd like, I would love for you to
read it.
This "philosophical dialogue" might be the way for you, Yo-san, to dive into the sea where you have been alone until now, while holding hands with many people.
I am sure you will be able to touch upon something different from what you have known before.
As a first step toward that, from the sea to the land.
I think that is a very grounded expression.
As expected of you, Yo-san.
At the end of this article by Yo-san, it says this.
In this sea of electrons, we are neighbors.
Hello. Here is the circular board.
And the one who received this circular board first
was our own Hakko-san.
And after reading this article by Hakko-san, I wanted to write too.
Yo-san.
When I read someone's article like this, I want to write.
Just like writing a reply to a letter, I want to write down what I'm thinking in a rush.
So, I don't have any drafts.
Basically, I want to just read what others have written without writing anything myself.
But when I read others' work, I almost always want to write.
The reason I write anything at all is always thanks to all of you who write things for me to read.
Thank you. Thank you.
By the way, I have one question for you, Yo-san.
"When you first saw Hakko-san, didn't you think they were suspicious?"
I did.
In my memory, Hakko-san suddenly followed me.
Without liking any of my articles.
Are they an AI?
I thought.
I clicked on the icon to go to Hakko-san's page,
and seeing a shabby-looking sun saying
"Please give me a tip,"I thought it was definitely dangerous.
But, just in case, I fearfully opened and read the article,
and the content was sound, and even interesting. And,
"Ah! This person has the same sensibility as me!"
I thought.
Am I the same as this person?
I felt a bit conflicted, but I liked the article and
followed them.
To think we would end up in a relationship like childhood friends...
Fate is a mysterious thing.
Come to think of it, on Twitter, where I only used to watch, I sent a comment just once.
In the middle of the night, Rei Nagai posted a tweet that sounded tired, and I got worried and couldn't help but comment.
The next morning, there was a "Like" on my comment.
Who could it be?
I clicked the button with a pounding heart,
and "Unko Buriburi Saemon" appeared.
It might have been 'poop'.
But it was roughly a name like that.
Are they trolling?
I thought, but I went to look at this person's tweets.
I wondered how much they were saying 'poop buriburi', but when I looked, they were very sensible tweets.
If anything, they were talking about difficult things.
To the point where I couldn't quite understand.
They seemed to be a very intelligent person.
You shouldn't judge people by their names.
Also, I won't comment anymore.
And so, I engraved it deeply in my heart.
I ended up rambling at length on the circular board.
Thank you for staying with me until the end.
Next person, please.