“It’s okay if it’s not perfect.”
Adult studies that we all learn while shaking

Adult studies that protect me when life is shaken
A time when your heart becomes stronger the moment you read it
A tender story of growth among imperfect adults

Becoming an adult
It's a practice of not losing myself.

I will try to be happy today too, with a cheerful heart that accepts coincidences and mistakes.
Because the bad things that shake me are actually good things that make me excited again.
- From "A Cheerful Mistake"

Adult education is not simply about accumulating knowledge.
It allows us to see life more deeply and broadly, and it shines only in a virtuous cycle of learning and sharing.
Today too, I am walking along that road.
At the end of that road, another learning will be waiting for me.
- From “Learning and Sharing, the Value of Adult Study”

I wasn't afraid even if I got lost.
Because there was no set path from the beginning.
- "On the Road"

In the end, studying is something that can be done even in a shaky situation.
Isn't it the strength that holds me back from losing myself?
- From "Endless Adult Study"

Even if you take proper care of it, scars can remain.
Even if you do well, you may not even be able to recover your initial investment.
On the other hand, a festival that names wounds as new flesh requires only the enjoyment of pleasure, not the duty of care, and leaves behind medals and memories, not scars.
The choice is entirely up to each individual.
And I prepare for that festival with every step I take every day.
Even if the moisture from the rain on the ground now causes me to slip and fall, the resulting wound will become a medal and hang around my neck.
A rainy day is a day to be thankful for the absence of flowers and insects destroyed by the scorching heat of the sun in this dry weather.
With the intention of preparing for the festival, I turn on the switch in yesterday's darkness and run to the light of today.
Like nature after the rain, just smiling and being chic.
--- p.50

But my second child is always by my side, looking after me and taking care of me.
It's admirable to see him married, having two sons as big as rice cakes, and living a good life while listening to his wife's voice.
I am so grateful to my second daughter, who, unlike me who has lived a busy life, has become a good and affectionate mother who does her best for her two sons.
I love and respect my second child so much.
My eldest daughter went to study abroad in the United States during winter break of her third year of college.
He has not returned to this day and is living as an American citizen.
Because we lived far apart for so long, I was never able to give my daughter proper love as a mother.
It's so heartbreaking and sad.
--- p.100

As big as a little finger
silvery little fish

Along the sparkling stream
It flowed leisurely

Going upstream
ran towards the world

Spread your wings wide
I swam silver

Now the wide sea
Crossing confidently
tiddler
--- p.151

And then, in that moment, I realized.
'What am I doing?' I'm trying to control the child, as if he's about to cross a fine line.
You are not respecting the child, you are not encouraging the child, you are telling the child to do as you say and do as you direct.
The realization that began in that way led to deep self-reflection.
If my child does as I say, will he succeed? If he does as I say and fails, will I be able to take responsibility for him? Even when he's stronger than me? I've lived in a different generation than him, and I'll eventually pass away before him. Do I want him to depend solely on me? Then what will he do after I'm gone? And is that truly the right path for him?
--- p.200

The more I think about my loving mother, the more I remember all the things I couldn't do for her.
He looked at the knit shirt his young daughter was wearing,
“What you wore back then was pretty.
If you have something similar, buy it for me.
“I’ll give you the money,” he asked cautiously.
At the time, I kept putting it off with the excuse that my life was difficult.
Now that I have missed my chance, I break my heart and throw it at myself, scolding me with a terrible rebuke.
The moment my mother first saw the lightweight, portable three-section umbrella at the department store, she said, “You were the first thing that came to mind.”
He said he had to go before it was all sold out, so he had to go back a long way and brave the heavy rain.
When I first heard the story while receiving the gift, I said in frustration, “Who would go to such lengths to ask for something like that?”
I felt more sad than grateful and wanted to cry.
Even now, a long time after he passed away, I still feel pain just going near that department store.
The sight of you hurrying and rushing to catch up with your father's early dinner.
Every time I open the front door cabinet, my eyes are filled with joy and my heart is filled with sorrow.

--- p.239