Taking care of your body doesn't mean becoming weak

A story about not needing to rush

Taking care of your body doesn't mean becoming weak.
I finally realized that it is actually 'preparation for living gently.'
My mother's figure and the weeds in the field became my answer.

◇ The day I couldn't stand up like I did when I was young

The dinner my mother made for me,
I sat still and finished eating,
and then I thought, okay, time to stand up.

It doesn't happen quickly like it used to.

I let out a grunt, 'heave-ho,'
put my hands firmly on the table,
and use that momentum to somehow stand up.

My knees remain stiff,
and the moment I put weight on them, I feel a sharp 'pinch' of pain.

Ah, that's right, that's right.
If I stay in the same position for a long time, my knees get angry.
I'm sorry, knees.

◆ But because of that pain,
there are days when I truly feel, 'Ah, I was able to move today too.'
The small voices of my body that I didn't notice when I was young,
now feel somehow precious.

That 'pinch' was a signal
telling me, 'You're not young anymore, so be careful when you sit down.'

◇ The 'gentle choice' of not fighting against age

Instead of feeling down that I can't work like I used to,
I realized that as humans age, just like machine parts getting old,
we have to take care of ourselves.

It's never too late.
The 'pinch' signal my body gave me,
instead of taking it as 'I'm finished,'
I decided to think of it as 'it's time to retrain without overdoing it.'

Since then, I've been watching YouTube and such,
and slowly started doing health exercises I can do now.
Thanks to that, the number of those 'pinches' has decreased a little.

◆ It's not that the things I can't do have increased,
it's just that 'the time has come to change how I do things.'
Ever since I've been able to think that way, my heart has felt a little lighter.

What my body was telling me through pain
was not the despair of 'you're done for,'
but perhaps a gentle sign saying,
'Find a way of moving that suits you now.'

Ever since I started thinking that way,
I feel like my life has changed into a 'life where I don't have to overdo it.'

There is still more to come.
No need to rush.
To keep using my healthy body for a long time, with care.

◇ How to 'take care' learned from my mother's figure

My mother loves going out, and
even while asking me to "take her shopping,"
I'll notice she's already gone out shopping with her friends.

I thought that perhaps I should learn a little
from that kind of "free and light-footed" way of living.

Taking care of yourself
is not a sign of weakness.
I've finally come to realize recently
that it becomes a "strength" to cherish your family.

◇ A sudden realization while looking at the field

While looking at the field,
I realized I had been planting cabbages in soil that wasn't suited for them.

Oh, what have I been doing?
Even soil has its own nature,
and I had been planting without paying attention to that.

I felt like saying "I'm sorry" to the field.

A person's heart is the same;
if you push yourself in a place where you don't fit, you won't grow well.

I should just gradually change to a way of living that is more balanced.

From here on, this is a story about how knee pain changed my heart as well.
My mother's figure, the weeds in the field, and my future way of life.
These are the "inner realizations" I want to quietly leave behind.

◇ The body ages honestly

When I was young, no matter where my body hurt,
I used to think, "Well, it'll heal if I just leave it alone."

Even if I pushed myself, I would recover after sleeping,
and I could just leave everything to tomorrow's self and it would somehow work out.

But—
as you pile up the years—fifty, sixty, seventy—
the body stops telling lies.

Where it hurts, it clearly hurts.
On days I'm tired, it clearly won't move.
If I push myself, it definitely lingers until the next day.

The body is no longer something you can "deceive" like it was in the past.

The days when walking became difficult,
and the days when my knees gave a sharp sting of anger,
I think now that they were all connected.

"It's about time you changed your way of living."
Perhaps that was the signal.

◇ The “self that can no longer do things” is not an end, but a “beginning”

When I used to count the things I could no longer do,
my heart would sink deeper and deeper.

However, it suddenly occurred to me.

“Maybe it’s not that I ‘can’t do it,’
but that the time has come to change how I use my body.”

When I realized that,
I felt as if a light had been lit inside my heart.

◇ Days spent finding “new ways” to get along with my body

I realized this after passing seventy, but aging is
a process of becoming friends with your current body.

“It’s a process of making friends with your current body.”

When I was young, I used to “push” my body to move,
but now it’s the opposite; my body talks to me.

“Take it easy today.”
“Let’s stop here for now.”
“It feels good to stretch a little more.”

Just like that.

If I move without overdoing it, my body responds properly.
I am relearning that simple truth at seventy.

◇ The “courage not to try so hard” changed me

When I was still pushing myself too hard,
even my daily walk was exhausting.

While walking, I would think, “Something feels wrong…” but
I didn’t have the courage to stop pushing myself.

But everything changed from that realization.

It’s okay to be slow, and it’s okay to be brief.
If I walk in a way that suits my body today, that is enough.

Since then, I’ve also started small exercises within my capabilities.

Ten footwork repetitions every day.
Arching my back like a cat and taking slow, deep breaths.
Just this alone makes my body feel much lighter.

The body is an honest and gentle companion, isn't it.

◇ The reason I stopped feeling down on the days I 'can't do it'

Since I started living while listening to my body's voice, I stopped feeling down on the days I 'can't do it'.

Before, I used to blame myself, saying,
'I couldn't walk today,'
'I'm feeling unwell again,'
and so on.

But now, it's different.

'Resting is also a job for the body.'

Days I can walk and days I can't,
days I feel energetic and days I don't,
I can accept that all of these are 'my life itself'.

Thanks to that,
there is now space in my daily life.
My heart has become much lighter.

◇ The body is a 'partner' that will walk through the rest of life together

When I was young, I thought of my body as something to be silenced or something to be toughened up.

But now, it's the exact opposite.

My body is a partner that has supported me for a long time.

Pain and poor health are not alarms that I'm breaking down,

but merely messages saying, 'Please treat me more gently.'

Since I started living while picking up on those voices,
my life has become truly peaceful.

◇ A life of walking slowly was much richer than I had imagined

In the first half of my life,
'I have to do my best,'
'If I stop, I lose,'
I lived with those kinds of feelings.

But, having passed seventy, I finally understood.

There is scenery that can only be seen by those who stop.

The days my knees give a sharp twinge,
the days walking feels difficult,
they are all connected to who I am now.

I stopped pushing myself,
I listen to my body's voice,
and I carefully stack up what I can do.

That is what it means to live in harmony with your age.

◇ Age is the root of kindness

It is not that you are "no longer young," but rather that you have "become deeper."

Perhaps there are fewer things you can do.
But there are more things you can see.

The voice of your body, the feelings of your family,
the softness of the soil in the field—

These are all things that the younger me could not hear.

Age may be a natural change
that allows us to cherish both ourselves and those around us.

◇ Walking through life carefully with the body you have now

There is no need to push yourself.
There is no need to rush.

If you can live at a pace that suits "the you of today,"
that is more than enough.

Tomorrow, too,
I will do ten footwork exercises,
round my back like a cat and take a deep breath,
and continue living in harmony with my body.

Life is a deep breath.

Slowly,
gently,
it will continue from here on out.

◇ A "new way of spending every day" to get along with your body

I realized this after passing seventy,
getting older is a process of
"becoming friends with the body you have now."

When I was young, I would force my body to move,
but now it is the opposite; my body talks to me.

"Take it easy today."
"Let's stop here."
"It feels good to stretch a little more."

Just like that.

If you move without overdoing it, your body will respond properly.
I relearned that simple truth at seventy.

◇ The "courage not to try too hard" has changed the quality of my life

When walking started to become difficult,
I thought for a moment, 'Maybe I'm done for.'

But then, one day, it suddenly hit me.

Wasn't the fact that I kept pushing myself without being able to say I was struggling
what was hurting my body the most? I wondered.

Since then,
I've started doing small exercises I can manage, at my own pace.

◆ For example, doing footwork ten times a day.
Then, arching my back like a cat and slowly inhaling and exhaling.
It only takes a few minutes, but even just this makes my body feel much lighter.

I'm not competing with anyone in terms of distance or time.
I'm just choosing the way of walking and moving that feels 'just right' for me today without overdoing it.

When I did that,
that sense of struggle gradually faded away.
The body is such an honest and kind thing.

◇ The reason I stopped feeling down on 'days I can't do it'

It's strange,
but once I started living while listening to my body's voice,
I stopped feeling down on the days I couldn't do things.

Before,
I had many days where I blamed myself,
saying, 'I couldn't walk today' or 'I'm struggling again.'

But now, I can think like this:

'Rest is also part of the body's work.'

Days I walk and days I don't,
days I feel energetic and days I don't,
I've come to accept them all as 'my life itself.'

Thanks to that,
there's now space in my daily life.
My heart feels much lighter.

◇ The body is a 'partner' that will walk through the rest of life with me

My body is a 'partner' that has supported me for a long time.

Pain and discomfort are not
alarms that I'm breaking down,
but simply a voice saying, 'Please treat me more gently.'

Since I started living while listening to that voice,
my life has become truly peaceful.

The way I care for myself
is directly connected to how I care for my family.

That was the way of life
that the sharp pain in my knee taught me.

◇ Grandpa's closing words

For the rest of your life,
there is no need to rush, no need to push yourself too hard.
Take care of your body.