Growing crops takes a year. I spent about a year in the mountains to fully experience natural farming. Actually, I ran out of money and took a part-time job clearing brush in the mountains to earn gas money. After cedar and cypress trees are planted, the surrounding grass grows thick and fast. You cut the underbrush so the cedars and cypresses grow faster.

On my last day of work, the boss-like older guy said, "It was a big help having a young guy like you, Mr. Danjo cut the grass. Actually, I'll show you a spot with some really good water. About thirty minutes uphill from here, there's a spot overflowing with water we forestry folks call ‘Powerful Water.’ Drinking it will give you more energy. Why don't you go try it?"

I think it was summer, July. I really wanted to try that water. The next morning, I woke up at five, slung my backpack on, and trudged uphill for about an hour. When I reached the area he described, there really was a tiny water source, about a meter square.

Normally, water shouldn't pool on mountain tops, but since ancient times, overflowing mountain water has created a siphon effect, forming special mountains where water collects. ‘Powerful Water’ was this incredibly mysterious water from the summit, said to have been flowing for hundreds of thousands of years.

At that moment, I slowly knelt down, approached the spot, scooped up a handful of that sacred water with both hands, and took a sip. This actually became a major turning point in my life. Before drinking it, it was my own “Smiling World,” but the instant that sip passed my throat, the way I saw and felt the cedar and cypress trees right in front of me, and all the surrounding trees and flowers, changed completely in an instant.

How did they change? Well, the trees started talking to me. “How are you?” they'd say. Looking toward the hill, I felt like “this tree is talking too.” Everywhere I looked, it felt like the trees were smiling.

It was a sensation of becoming one with the trees in the forest. Even the large rock right in front of me seemed to be talking. “Hey there!” it said, like it was saying “Good morning” just for me.

Ants were moving around at my feet. Before, I would have casually stepped on them without a second thought. But somehow, the ants felt like they were myself. It was like, “Ah, this ant is just like me.” It's hard to express it any other way than “You are me, I am you.” It was the feeling that the world, and I was originally separate, now had become one.

After that, I felt immense joy. It was the joy of being alive. A joy like, “Wow, I've received something truly great in my life.” I'd had many happy, joyful encounters before, but this was a joy unlike anything I'd known. I realized later that it was a joy that came naturally from within me.

My twenty-six-year-old-self experienced a shift in consciousness in an instant, and I ran down shouting, “I did it!” It might sound a bit exaggerated. It might be like saying, “I've finally arrived!” Of course, I hadn't gone seeking that, but that feeling has stayed within me ever since.

When I returned to Mr. Yamauchi's house, I was smiling broadly, so different from my usual self, that Mr. and Mrs. Yamauchi worried, “Mr. Danjo, are you okay, smiling like that?” I told them that after going up the mountain and drinking the water, the world I saw had changed. From then on, no matter what I saw, I was smiling every day. I never felt deeply troubled anymore.

Everything felt joyful. I'd go to my vegetable garden and call out to the plants, “Hey, how are you doing?” The old me would have thought, “This is embarrassing,” but that feeling never surfaced. I gradually changed into someone who talked to every vegetable and flower.

One day, when I took the bus into town, there were two or three other passengers. When I sat down, I felt something in my body. For the person behind me on the left, I suddenly felt something like, “They seem to be in pain” or “They look miserable.” When I looked back, I could tell they didn't look well. Before, if I got on a bus, I'd only think, “What a nice view.” But now, I started feeling this intense connection between fellow living beings.

Another day, when I sat down on a bus seat, I started sensing the feelings of the person sitting in front of me. I'd think, “Hmm, maybe the person sitting there is feeling this kind of emotion.” I could tell my nerves were becoming incredibly sensitive.

While observing myself objectively, thinking, “This is getting serious,” I began to worry that if this continued, I might not be able to function in society in the future.