Stance and posture
I have no interest in sports at all.
Even so, there was a time when I played golf, and I was unbelievably bad at it.
At that time, I was often told that my stance was wrong.
Should I think of it as my position or my stance in life?
My life’s position, where do I place it?
In ordinary daily life.
Rather than the high level of specialization in hospitals and nursing homes, it’s the growth of children in daycare centers and the lives in mother-child support facilities.
Yesterday was the Christmas party at the mother-child support facility.
Volunteer performances.
A room filled with sweets prepared by the staff.
This reminded me of my own childhood, and my heart leapt.
It was like Hansel and Gretel.
I was also given a sweet bun as a souvenir.
I ate all three, so I’m worried about my blood sugar.
This mother-child support facility has a dark lobby, so the first thing I did was buy a Christmas tree.
After that, I displayed a Lego Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
This year, I bought another Christmas tree.
Once again, the lobby brightened up.
From now on, every year, I think I’ll buy a tree at Christmas and turn it into a forest of trees.
Bright and joyful.
That should be a basic condition for all facilities.
What is the structure?
It’s the balance between the kindness, love, and professional ability of the staff working in medical and welfare services.
In the past, I thought both were necessary and should be equally balanced, but recently, my thinking has changed.
I now think that 70% should be kindness and love, and 30% should be professionalism.
You can’t do this work if you’re not strong, but if you’re not kind, you’re not qualified to work in welfare.
A sense of responsibility originates from love.
I was convinced when I looked at a mother gazing at her young child.
If there’s love, a sense of responsibility naturally arises.
The 70/30 balance is the management style of Koyama.
My position is here, in the bedroom at dawn as I write this journal.
The important thing is to cherish the place where you don’t forget the memories of your life as a human being.
I realized something recently.
As long as I remember my parents’ faces every morning, they are not dead.
They continue to live in my memory.
Eventually, I too will become like that, but since I don’t have children, I hope that this journal will remain on the internet as a record.
I want to call my photos and writings left on the internet a “digital tombstone."
I’m leaving a record of my life and polishing my gravestone.
Thinking about it that way, it feels a bit lonely.
Blood sugar: 120
Koyama G Representative, Thunderbird Representative, Vice President of Health Station, Koyama Yasunari