Publishing a collection of essays
The Door of Truth that Parkinson's Patients Want to Visit

Even when I sit down to write these days, I can't write as well as I want.
Sometimes I suddenly think about this.
‘Is this really the end?’ Whenever I think like that, fear creeps into me without me realizing it.
The words just don't come to mind.
Sometimes I just sit there blankly because I can't even remember the name of my regular grocery store.
If I keep going like this and really can't do anything, I wonder if all the stories I wanted to write will be forgotten... That worry lingers in a corner of my mind.

These days, there isn't much I can do.
I sit down at the piano and try to feel the keys, but my bent fingers and stiff muscles don't allow my hands to move as I want.
Even the sheet music is not easy to read, so I end up playing Mozart's Sonata No. 11, which I am familiar with, incorrectly several times.
Still, I wait for the day I can return, and during the most leisurely hours of the day, I sit quietly in front of the piano.
Make up your mind.
The piano isn't something you can just play however you want.
To some extent, the inside must be purified.
Once you have cleared your mind of miscellaneous thoughts and your mind is calm, you can see the music score.
Only when the score is properly displayed can the fingertips recall the memory.

I try to sit in front of the piano for at least two hours twice a week.
Whether I play or not, the time I spend sitting in front of it is meaningful to me.
In these listless days where I can't do anything, I can't give up on the dream of leaving something behind.
How much time and effort have you poured into the piano since you were young?
That heart, that time, cannot be destroyed now.

Even though my body isn't what it used to be, and my mind keeps breaking down, I'm still trying.
This effort is proof that I am alive, and I want to leave a mark that I am walking the path again, diligently fulfilling the responsibility entrusted to me by being born in this generation.

The moments I spend writing and sitting in front of the piano are 'hope' to me.
Even though I am slow and clumsy now, this heart that does not give up is what moves me again.
I have always wanted to become a writer, and I try not to let go of the dream I had back then, even now.

So today, I take a moment to reflect on my feelings once again.
I try to put my heart into every single line and every single note.
Tomorrow, too, I will live like that again.

These times when I revisit the dreams I had given up on, day by day, and find myself, even if it's late, are truly precious.
During this time, I cautiously present to the world my second collection of essays, “The Door to Truth Where Parkinson’s Patients Want to Go.”

I still have a lot to do and a lot of unfinished business, but I hope that my vow to work until I die will come true.
On a spring day when flowers are in bloom and the spring sunshine is pleasantly stimulating my whole body, I will die doing the work assigned to me, just as I have been destined to do since I was young.
I think the door to truth is in that moment.

The door of truth that you cannot return to even if you want to live with the spirit of a full-blooded youth.
The past, the regrets and dreams that were hidden inside that door, were crumpled and crushed and closed, so I couldn't look at them, and even though they bloomed into beautiful flowers, I didn't realize them. After being diagnosed with Parkinson's disease, I worked hard to make my dreams come true and realized them at the threshold of truth.


I tell myself every day that I must open the door to truth.
Open wide and be honest, even if your body is broken, until the moment you die without getting dementia, until the moment the world ends.

If you can hold on, that's... If you can hold on, you'll realize that that's the door to truth... Parkinson's patients must open the door to truth and not lose their minds on the road to the other world.

To enter the gates of truth with a clear mind, to strive to fulfill the mission entrusted to us by our destiny at birth until the moment of death, we must not lose our minds even for a moment.
I would like to call this effort and attitude towards life the “door to truth.”

--- From "The Door of Truth that Parkinson's Patients Want to Visit"