Prayer for Love and Mercy

 I wrote and sang another hymn. Oh, have mercy Oh, have mercy Have mercy upon us ← 　 →

 "If I can save even just one person, that’s a win." I wrote that last time, and then it hit me: if everyone simply saved one person each, wouldn't that mean *everyone* in the world gets saved? One person saves someone, that person saves someone else, and that person saves yet another... Eventually, love would cover the entire world. Saving just one person is enough, isn't it? "Saving" sounds like a grand cause, though—maybe I should just call it "loving." Wouldn't it be more efficient for each person to love one other person, rather than one individual loving a hundred people while the other hundred are merely loved in return? I’m not talking about extreme acts—like giving up your life, a body part, or your entire fortune—but just small gestures of care. Surely, we’re all capable of a little thoughtfulness, a little bit of love? That’s the kind of thing that lasts. And I think longevity is what matters. Small acts of love, piling up day by day...

 Lately, I’ve been thinking: "If I can save even just one person, that’s a win." I aspire to love everyone—just as God or the Buddha does—but "everyone" is simply the sum of individuals. And nothing can begin unless you take that first step with a single person, right? So, who is that first person? My wife? As Confucianism teaches, "The Way of the noble person begins with the relationship between husband and wife," so starting with one's wife seems perfectly fine. My parents? I’ve reflected before on how Confucianism places such heavy emphasis on filial piety because it serves as a direct line to the ultimate Parent—God. But when you really think about it, don't most people stumble right at that first step? I just checked with AI, and apparently, the divorce rate is around 45% in the US and 32% in Japan. Even I’ve been handed a final ultimatum time and again... always teetering on the edge. And as for filial piety—are people really managing that? I...

 Last time, I mentioned that there are countless vital jobs—jobs that keep things running even if they don't put you in the spotlight. While writing that, I suddenly thought of the work done by lighting technicians, so I wanted to share a few thoughts on that. Lighting technicians are the people responsible for stage lighting. Their job is literally to *cast* the spotlight, not to stand in it. I recently attended a collaborative concert featuring a pair of brothers who play the Tsugaru-shamisen and another pair who perform piano duets. At one point, I found myself thinking, "The lighting is beautiful; they’re doing a fantastic job." People don't usually pay much attention to the lighting during a performance, I suppose. I’ve worked in the theater world a bit myself; while the performers are the stars, they are supported by specialized staff—lighting, sound, stage managers, and those handling sets and props. You hire these people individually, and since they are true a...

 I previously reflected on the nature of jealousy, but realizing there was more to say, I decided to continue the discussion here. When it comes to jealousy, the analogy of brain cells versus foot cells works well if the roles are distinct—but what happens when the roles are the same? In other words, when two parties are in direct competition. In such scenarios, there is a handful of winners and a vast number of losers. The more attractive the goal, the greater the number of defeated contenders left in the wake—a veritable mountain of the fallen. However, because the competition pushes rivals to hone their skills against one another, the overall standard inevitably rises. Consequently, the level of the eventual winner rises as well. And if that winner goes on to fulfill a role in society, their contribution to society naturally increases. In short, competition boosts the performance of humanity as a whole. Even those defeated contenders—who form that mountain of the fallen—indirect...

 I think everyone experiences jealousy, but isn't it truly awful to have to listen to someone else expressing their jealousy toward another person? I have feelings of jealousy too, of course, but the unpleasantness of realizing, "Oh, I'm jealous of someone right now"—it’s just... "I'm the worst. I have no right to talk about love." Not being able to genuinely rejoice in someone else's success—it makes me realize just how small-minded I am. And the unpleasantness of hearing *someone else* express jealousy toward another person... It’s painful, sad, poignant, excruciating, helpless, and utterly hopeless. It just leaves you feeling incredibly, deeply sad. Everyone feels jealousy, I suppose, but it’s best not to voice it to others. It makes everyone around you feel like giving up on everything. It feels like a massive wave of negative energy spreading rapidly within a radius of several hundred meters. So, where does this jealousy come from? It stems from...