On a Winter Solstice

I am conservative and patient.
I cannot say no when asked.

Even though I lack physical strength,
I am a jack-of-all-trades, so I can manage to push myself to a certain extent.

I am what you call a "good person."
In other words, a "convenient person."

Because I have lived like that for many years,
I don't want to cause any waves,
and I don't want to get involved in troublesome matters.

If I'm going to end up doing it anyway even if I refuse,
I might as well do it cheerfully from the start.
If someone has to do it,
I might as well be the one to endure it.

That is what I told myself,
and I kept ignoring my true feelings.
Before long, I didn't even know
where my true feelings were.

My heart was exhausted,
and my body had been screaming for a long time,
but I forced myself to keep smiling.

My mother was the same type,
and for a time, both she and I
became so ill that we hovered between life and death.

The words I was told at the hospital were,
"That is what attracts illness."

Now that I think about it,
people who can say "I don't like what I don't like"
don't seem to get sick,
and I feel they aren't as disliked by others as I thought.

The winter solstice.
The day with the longest night.

It was the perfect day
to tell myself that I had endured well up to this point.
From here on,

the light will gradually grow longer.

To mark the occasion,
I'll buy some yuzu and pumpkin on my way home.

That is the story of this winter solstice.