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The Therapist's Handbook for People-Pleasers: Breaking Free from the Need to Please and Reclaim Your Life

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Ronen Dancziger

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“I've been mistaken to assume that in this little village in the spring, so like a dream or a poem, life is a matter only of the singing birds, the falling blossoms, and the bubbling springs. The real world has crossed mountains and seas and is bearing down even on this isolated village, whose inhabitants have doubtless lived here in peace down the long stretch of years ever since they fled as defeated warriors from the great clan wars of the twelfth century. Perhaps a millionth part of the blood that will dye the wide Manchurian plains will gush from this young man's arteries, or seethe forth at the point of the long sword that hangs at his waist. Yet here this young man sits, beside an artist for whom the sole value of human life lies in dreaming. If I listen carefully, I can even hear the beating of his heart, so close are we. And perhaps even now, within that beat reverberates the beating of the great tide that is sweeping across the hundreds of miles of that far battlefield. Fate has for a brief and unexpected moment brought us together in this room, but beyond that it speaks no more.”

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“14. Hateful Things: Someone has suddenly fallen ill and one summons the exorcist. Since he is not home, one has to send messages to look for him. After one has had a long fretful wait, the exorcist finally arrives, and with a sigh of relief one asks him to start his incantations. But perhaps he has been exorcising too many evil spirits recently; for hardly has he installed himself and begun praying when his voice becomes drowsy. Oh, how hateful!”

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“Knowing that it is the earth we tread, we learn to tread carefully, lest it be rent open. Realizing that it is the heavens that hang above us, we come to fear the echoing thunderbolt. The world demands that we battle with others for the sake of our own reputation, and so we undergo the sufferings bred of illusion. While we live in this world with its daily business, forced to walk the tightrope of profit and loss, true love is an empty thing, and the wealth before our eyes mere dust.”

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“...He said defensively, "But from now on, Japan is sure to develop." "Japan's headed for a fall," the man said coolly. Say a thing like that in Kumamoto and you'd get a punch in the nose, or be called a traitor. The atmosphere Sanshiro grew up in left no room in his head for such an idea. Just because he was young, was the man having some fun at his expense? The man kept on grinning. Yet his way of talking was perfectly composed. Not knowing what to think, Sanshiro held his tongue. His companion went on, "Tokyo is bigger than Kumamoto. Japan is bigger than Tokyo. And what's bigger than Japan is..." He paused and looked at Sanshiro, who was listening intently. "...the inside of your head. That's bigger than Japan. Don't let yourself get bogged down. You may believe your way of thinking is for the good of the nation, but you could actually be bringing it down." When he heard this, Sanshiro felt he had indeed left Kumamoto. And he realized, too, what a small person his Kumamoto self had been.”

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“Giây phút nhìn con thở yếu ớt vì uống quá nhiều thuốc ngủ, cha tưởng chừng tim mình ngừng đập. Dù thế nào, cha cũng phải vững vàng trước mặt mẹ con, nhưng lòng cha hoàn toàn trống rỗng, như thể trái tim đã đi đâu mất rồi. Cha cuống cuồng gọi xe cấp cứu, nhưng bác sĩ nói rằng coi như hết hy vọng, rằng có thể con sẽ phải sống thực vật suốt đời. Dù vậy, họ vẫn dốc lòng cứu con. Con còn ít tuổi, các y bác sĩ đã cố gắng hết sức để mang con trở về bằng mọi giá. Nhìn cảnh ấy, cha cảm động biết chừng nào. Và con hồi sinh một cách thần kỳ như để đáp lại nhiệt huyết của mọi người. Đúng lúc ấy cha đã nghĩ, người tốt hay xấu đều không còn quan trọng...”

VietnamColorfulJapanese LiteratureVietnamese
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