The end of the year is approaching again and the seemingly unchanging routine of teaching and working rolls on amid the quiet and gradual change of the seasons. On the way, we seem to be better at noticing the change in the color of the leaves, the rise and drop in the temperature, and the formation of the clouds in the sky, but somehow neglect to look inside and mark our own changes. The flow of time sometimes gives people an unbearable sense of frustration, for it’s simply moving on unstoppably, regardless of what it’s taking away with it. We lament all the things we could have achieved, all the places we should have visited and all the time we should have better employed. We look back, shocked to see how much time we have “wasted”, but also grateful when we realize that any experience, good or bad, has contributed to enrich our life. I’m no philosopher, and therefore won’t pretend to know anything about why we come to this world, although I have never ceased to think about it. Since I have failed to find a clear answer to it, I simply feel that we are here to taste, to see, to feel. If we were born as a blank canvas, all the people we meet, every tiny little thing we do, will be one drop of color, as different as they might be in shade, to complete a unique masterpiece in the end. 銀座校インストラクター ミッチー