In 2023, I felt that the view my husband was seeing was changing from what it had been before. He expressed his appreciation for this through a reality post last month. The transformation of his viewpoint has made me very happy.

When we entered the COVID pandemic in 2020, my husband began to work from home, and for the first time I could see him working. I saw that he faced a lot of problems, such as reprimands, sudden scoldings, and angry phone calls from clients.

He has been with the same company for many years. Before we were married, he was often transferred to other branches. And after we were married, he was transferred to other departments, again and again. That used to be the case, but these problems no longer occur. If problems do happen, they don’t grow more serious. And there are no sudden scoldings or angry phone calls. No reprimands come in.

His communication has become smoother, and his world, which used to be a place where he felt, “I can’t say anything extra” and “my opinions weren’t heard,” has changed to one where he often hears, “what do you think?” Now his opinions and suggestions are heard and accepted readily. I was glad to see my husband start to live happily every day in a world that had completely changed. I felt that it was only his transformation, only his world. But the way I watched him transformed the view I was seeing, and I myself was beginning to live.

Since I was a child, I’ve always thought, “If you save people’s hearts, you can save the entire human race. I want to save humanity by saving their hearts.” But in reality, I was always in trouble with people for some reason. It was difficult for me to build relationships, I had no particular friends, and there were no groups to which I could belong. No matter what I did or where I went, things never went well for me.

From a very young age, I continually wondered how I might be able to die. I seriously thought about it, and sometimes took actions toward my own death. Still, the one thing I never stopped seeking was “absolute peace of mind.” And when the way I saw my father and the way I saw my husband matched my own view, I found the “absolute peace of mind” I had been seeking.

This is what I have been fighting for. I realized that this was a struggle for my inner peace, and I felt love for my own life. Then, the “desire to commit suicide,” which had persisted since childhood no matter what I did to erase it, disappeared in a flash, so much so that I never even noticed it until recently.

Here are some thoughts about my father from my viewpoint, my life, and my husband’s viewpoint.

My father was a surgeon, and while he had the good qualities of being brave and daring, he also got very angry when he didn’t get his way. Communication between him and my mother, who was also a doctor, may have been normal for them, but for me it was intense. Just a short while ago, I thought they were getting along, but before I knew it a terrible fight broke out, with knives flying everywhere.

My mother was also very intense, but in my view my father was even more so. From my point of view, he had gone even further off the rails, to the point where I became afraid that if I left him like that, he would take his own life. I was desperate to do something about it. But then the following morning, my parents got ready and went to work as if nothing had happened.

As a young child, I was happy to shed tears and clap my hands at even the slightest hint of reconciliation. But I couldn’t adapt to my parents’ rapidly changing emotions. I always wished they wouldn’t start fighting, and when they did, I wished they would calm down quickly and that their hearts would be at peace.

I myself have suffered from a lack of control over my emotions. I wanted to save people’s hearts. But in reality, I couldn’t even build decent relationships with people. No matter what I did, things didn’t work out, on top of which I got wrapped up in trying to solve problems and kept getting into trouble.

After I graduated from high school, I had no place to stay in Japan. I thought that if I went to the U.S., something would blossom, so a year later I left to study there. But my relationships with people, including love relationships, weren’t going well. The Japanese guy I was dating at the time said to me, “Akiko is no good. You’re not good enough.” He kept saying this to me until I was driven to the edge.

Finally, I couldn’t feel anything, and I began to have hallucinations, including auditory hallucinations. My anger reached such an extreme level that I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was taken into protective custody by a friend and forcibly admitted to a psychiatric hospital.
After I had been in the hospital for a while, the doctor said, “We’re going to send you back to Japan. It’s dangerous, so we’ll send a security guard to protect you.” But my mother came to get me, and I returned to Japan voluntarily instead of being deported.

At the time, my mother said that she told the doctor, “It’s a gift to see, hear, and understand the invisible, not a sickness!” She told me that I’m not crazy, I’m normal. I only remember that I couldn’t say anything that would help me hear that. After returning to Japan, I went to see a psychiatrist. Although I wanted to “save people’s hearts,” I was in no condition to go out into the world.

But since all my family members were highly competent, I thought I would be no good without academic ability, so I decided to go on to higher education. After some twists and turns, I enrolled in a master’s program at a graduate school. (The story leading up to my admission to graduate school is a long one, so I’ll write about it another time.)

I got into graduate school, but my academic skills weren’t up to par, my relationships weren’t going well, I was busy with my love life, and I was getting increasingly overwhelmed by the strict guidance of my professors. I asked my father for help, but he refused.

I said to myself, “Enough! I want to be free from all this. I would rather die to escape this pain.” I wanted to be free from my uncontrollable anger and suffering, so I tried to commit suicide. When I realized that I hadn’t died, I went into a rage and was again forcibly hospitalized by a psychiatrist.

After several months of hospitalization, I was discharged. I was then transferred to other hospitals, again and again. Instead of saving people’s hearts, I became the one who needed help. No matter what I did or where I went, not only did things not work out, but my life was a constant struggle. When I saw people, I thought of them as enemies. I was in battle mode every day.

I managed to finish graduate school, and eventually got a part-time job as a Japanese language teacher, but the troubles never stopped. I thought, “What should I do with my life?” I felt I had no choice but to get married. I joined a matchmaking agency but was turned down, so I joined another agency and met my husband at a matchmaking party.

When I first saw my husband standing in the distance, I thought he looked like a kind man. I thought, “I want to marry this man.” I wanted to marry a calm man because my father was intense. I also thought, “This is the man who will rescue me from this darkness.” After I married my husband, I sought help from various sources, including counseling, religion, chakra care, and fortune telling, but none of my relationships worked out and they never lasted long.

Before I came across Miross, I often felt that my husband was “useless when I needed help,” and I would lash out in anger at him. He had to put up with it for a long time until my anger subsided. Once it subsided, he would say to me, with tears welling up in his eyes, “As long as Akiko is smiling, that’s all that matters!”

That’s what I saw when my intensely angry father’s emotions subsided, not that I was afraid of my husband. So this went the same way. I cried because I felt relieved, hoping that my father’s heart would be at peace even just a little. This feeling matched the way I looked at my father and the way my husband looked at me. Then I found a letter sent to me by my father when I was in the psychiatric hospital. It said, “Akiko, just stay light-hearted.” It matched the way my father looked at me.

I was horrified by the way my father tried to control and subdue me and others in order to maintain his own peace of mind, but I was also trying to control and subdue others to gain my peace of mind. I understood that “I want you to be at peace” was the way I was looking at myself.

In the past, my husband used to scream, hit his head against the wall, hit himself on the head, or hit a bench. But the next moment he would act as if nothing had happened and get on the next train.

I thought I had chosen a calm partner because I disliked my father’s intensity, but my husband had the exact same aggression as my father. The only difference was whether that aggression was expressed outwardly or toward oneself. Understanding this brought me, my husband, and my father together.

My own thinking, which had been to see people as enemies to my peace of mind, had created a situation where relationships wouldn’t work. The fact that I had fought to achieve absolute peace of mind seemed almost comical, and I was able to forgive them all. Whenever I sensed people telling me “you’re not good enough” or encountered a negative attitude, I got trapped alone in myself. I thought, “No one will accept me. No one will help me. I’m no good anyway. I’m not worth living.”

When you’re exposed to the false belief of “worthlessness,” you become desperate and suicidal. I understood that this had happened to me. It was then that the anger at myself, which I had been unable to erase no matter how hard I tried, and the feeling that I would die if anything happened to me were extinguished.

Now when I go shopping at a store and the clerk behaves in a way that I don’t like, I can observe it with an “Oh, I see.” In the past, I would have gotten angry and demanded that the person in charge be brought out, or I would keep blaming the clerk, and make the clerk cry. Now that is completely gone as I accept it simply as it is.

The world, which I used to believe had no one to help me, has changed completely. Up until now, the only way I could do anything was to get dragged down by each step, or see my relationships with others destroyed, or destroy myself.

Once we understand that people really are there for us, people giving friendly advice and support appear, and we have a place where we can do what we want. There are people we can talk to when we’re in trouble, and people we can ask for help when we don’t know what to do.

My world, where if I said something was wrong I would be told I was wrong, has changed to a world where I can be heard properly. And now if my anger arises, I am no longer at the mercy of it. I know now that even if something were to happen, it would prove to be a worthy experience brought to life. But I have no need to go back to the past anymore. I feel that my world has begun to come alive.

I thank the Programmer, and Mr. Rossco and Ms. Midori, for establishing and passing on the Miross system to us.

I would also like to thank all the people I have had the pleasure of meeting.