Learning to See Again

Her own journey toward this philosophy was not academic, but deeply personal. The book was born from grief following her mother’s passing, a loss she describes as a “massive void.” What followed was not an immediate awakening, but a slow, almost reluctant re-entry into the world. She began by walking—first aimlessly, then with increasing awareness. The sky, the movement of clouds, the quiet persistence of ants underfoot—these small details became anchors.

“I thought I was just absolutely alone,” she said. “But when I opened my eyes—and my heart—I realised I was surrounded by many forms of life.”

It is this shift—from isolation to interconnectedness—that forms the emotional core of Eight Million Ways to Happiness. Rather than prescribing rituals, Yoda offers invitations: take a walk without your phone, notice the origins of your food, consider the invisible network of people, labour, and nature that makes even the simplest moment possible.

In Japan, this awareness is embedded in everyday language. The phrase itadakimasu, said before meals, loosely translates to “I humbly accept.” As Yoda points out, it carries a deeper resonance—an acknowledgment of everything that brought the meal into being, from soil and sunlight to farmers and shopkeepers. Gratitude, in this sense, is not performative but perceptual.