.jpg){kind=small}
In a small Japanese town on the island of
Okinawa, a young woman was dying. No one understood the cause of her illness to
be able to help her. People knew her well because she was the mayor's wife.
Some of the best doctors and healers were invited for her treatment, but life
left her little by little.
And one day she didn't get out of bed. Then
she realized that life was going forever. She felt that her soul was slowly
separating from her body and heading upwards. The woman was filled with pity.
It was early morning, the time she usually woke up to start her day - full of
noise and concern for others. In the last days, she lived with her memories of
her youth, of her wedding, of the birth of her children, of their childhood.
She remembered her work, the people she had met over time. She felt sorry for
one thing, smiled for another, grieved for a third. But most of all she mourned
the fact that she was so unfairly punished by fate.
And suddenly she felt that her body became
light, light...
At that moment, absorbed by the new,
previously unknown feeling, somewhere inside she heard, or rather felt, a loud
but very pleasant voice, which unexpectedly "asked" her:
- Who are you?
"I'm Megumi,
the mayor's wife," she answered quickly and somewhat mechanically.
- I'm not asking
what your name is and who is your husband. tell me who are you
- I am a mother
of three children.
- I ask you:
"Who are you"?
- I am a school
teacher - the woman continued uncertainly.
- Am I asking you
how many children you have and where you work?
The woman was completely confused. But the
question sounded again. There was no haste or discontent in him. But there was
a lot of love, there was as much time as she needed. She felt that, but didn't
know how to respond. The woman kept giving new and new answers, but heard the
same question: "Who are you?". It seemed to her that an eternity had
passed. She no longer had any answers. She obediently remained silent and
awaited her fate. The voice was silent. And in that motionless silence she
suddenly said, almost in a whisper:
– I am the one
who wakes up every day to love, to help my family and to teach the children at
school.
And at that moment her body shuddered and she
felt a warm blanket wrap around her frozen body, her heart beating so hard she
could barely hear the birdsong outside. Ignoring her weakness, she threw back
the blanket, got out of bed, walked over to the window, pulled back the
curtain, and her face was illuminated by the bright morning sun.
The woman looked at the clock - it was the
time she usually woke up to start her new day full of worries and children's
noise. She got dressed, entered the kitchen and... started her new day, full of
strength and energy.
That's how she discovered her ikigai - the one
for which each of us came to this world, the one that gives us strength and
meaning in life. Small or large, it is our purpose that fills our lives with
content and meaning. That which awakens love and gives us light. That without
which we feel devastated, that without which our life is slowly extinguished by
an incurable disease…
Ikigai – what we wake up to every morning.
Няма коментари:
Публикуване на коментар