Word 055
Along the southern edge of Nara Park, a small octagonal pavilion called Ukimido rests quietly over the surface of Sagi-ike Pond. It can only be reached by a narrow wooden bridge. The water mirrors the sky, rippling with each passing breeze, while the trailing branches of a willow sweep softly across the surface below.
Morning walkers stop by on their daily routes. Dog owners pause at the start of the bridge. People on their way home from work make a small detour just to come here. They all move through this place as though it will always be there — and then they go home.
Day after day, without giving it a thought —
the people we meet,
the paths we walk,
the places we visit.
Yet the moment may come, suddenly and without warning,
when we can no longer meet those people,
walk those paths, or return to those places.
That is why we should live our everyday lives
with the spirit of ichigo ichie — "one moment, one encounter."
None of them thought, "I should come back tomorrow." None of them thought, "This might be the last time." They were simply there. And it is only later — sometimes much later — that people realize how rare that was.