「計算できないだべ？俺の勝ち…な」
「石山のとこ行きたいって、おめぇばかだべ」
「イノシシ、食べてみ」
「イノシシの牙をあげる、一千万…な」

大平じいさん

There’s something transformative that happens when we, the younger generation, step out of our comfort zones and into the unknown. Each journey, each moment of uncertainty, isn’t just about losing our way—it’s about rediscovering ourselves in places we never dreamed we’d find. It’s in these moments, far from the familiar, that we unearth wisdom not just about the world, but about who we are and who we’re becoming.

Living in these extraordinary times, we have the world at our fingertips, able to watch life unfold on a screen, listen to distant echoes through our headphones. But it’s only by being there, truly present, that we can feel- and with the feeling, the memories will be engraved and never fade away.

Two days ago, I returned to Tokyo from Miyagi and Fukushima, areas once thriving but devastated by a severe earthquake, a devastating tsunami, and a crippling nuclear crisis. The courage and resolve of the people there, working endlessly to rebuild what was lost, left me speechless.

These regions, where families have lived and loved for generations, were silenced overnight. Yet, in this silence, a powerful story of resilience unfolds. Despite the immense losses—homes filled with memories, loved ones, and the very fabric of their communities torn apart—the spirit of hope shines brightly.

As I was sitting on the bus, looking out the window, I felt a strong connection to what many of them have gone through. Life is normal until suddenly it’s not, and everything you love is taken away. People become heroes not because they want to, but because they have to fight to get their normal lives back.

Now, people are returning, committed to reviving the vibrant life that once was.

And where there’s life, there’s hope.

And “hope invites”.

We did not feel prepared to be the heirs of such a terrifying hour,
but within it, we found the power to author a new chapter, to offer hope and laughter to ourselves.
So while once we asked, ‘How could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?’ now we assert, ‘How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?’

The Hill We Climb, Amanda Gorman (22)