Not many people are excited when they hear the word "rain. Thunderstorms are even more so.

Thunder is depicted boldly like a laser beam in this famous painting, and people are running away from it. Lightning was an unimaginable threat and an awe-inspiring object of fear in the past.

On the other hand, lightning was also a boon, a "blessing" that moistened the fields. There is a theory that the white fluttering motifs on the shimenawa (sacred straw ropes) at shrines are thunderbolts wishing for a bountiful harvest and driving away evil spirits. Thunder is also called "lightning. The ancient Japanese were already convinced that thunder and rain were responsible for the abundant harvest of rice.

Savoring the richness of the original Japanese language

　Japanese people have always been sensitive to the subtleties of the seasons and time of day. This is evident, for example, in the many expressions of "rain" in the Japanese language. Onomatopoeia (onomatopoeic and onomatopoeic words) such as "shito," "za-za-za," and "para-para-para" indicate rainfall. Nouns such as "rainy season," "evening shower," "downpour," "autumn rain," and "weather rain. If we had judged the rainfall based on the simplistic value of "rainy day = gloomy," we would not have had such a wide variety of expressions.

Haiku poets do not have the word "unfortunately" in their vocabulary," says a haiku poet who appears in the haiku corner of the popular TV program "Private! is a quote from Itsuki Natsui, a haiku instructor who appears in the haiku corner of the popular TV program "Private! Instead of feeling disappointed that he missed seeing the cherry blossoms in full bloom because of the rain, he thinks, "Now I can read a haiku about cherry blossoms falling in the rain. It is a significant idea that will give you a hint for continuing to enjoy your daily life more and more. Haiku has been called "one of the world's shortest forms of poetry," The Japanese language's ability to capture and express the subtleties of nature and the mind never ceases to amaze me.

Sensing the subtleties of the heart and expressing them in words

　It is said that "words strongly stimulate emotions. With the recent development of e-mail and social networking services, communication using short sentences, pictograms, and stamps has increased. If we use too many short and strong emotional expressions, such as "Oh no," without considering the richness of the original Japanese language, we may only be able to look at our own and others' emotional states with low resolution.

Suppose we can get into the habit of carefully searching for each word and expression's essence without sweeping labeling of complicated feelings and their changes. In that case, the view we see will naturally change. For example, imagine a patient lying face down in front of you with tears in his eyes. It is essential to think about "why the patient looks sad" instead of just mechanically and uniformly evaluating that the patient looks sad. By doing so, you may be able to sense the "loneliness" of not having a family member to talk to, the "agitation" of having been diagnosed with a severe illness, and the "anxiety" of not knowing what the future holds. If they can perceive the subtleties of the heart, the words of the medical staff will not be superficial but will be refined to be more profound and genuinely attuned to the heart's feelings.

We have inherited the power of perception and sensitivity to delicately sense happiness, beauty, joy, sadness, and frustration and the language and culture to express these sensations. Unlike the acquisition of knowledge and skills, there is no correct answer or goal to verbalize the detailed movements of our hearts and the universe that surrounds us while interacting with our sensitivity. However, I believe that the will to approach the essence leads to an attitude of being close to the hearts of patients with illnesses.

A masterpiece of this month's exhibition: "Nijushiko Dojikan: Wang Bo (Utagawa Kuniyoshi)

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