Asha slowly opened her eyes and raised herself up, sat cross-legged, and began to talk.
“I think it’s about thinking with your mind first. Like I said, the reason why I value such a space is because it relaxes me and gives me that precious time to think. Throughout our lives, we are constantly facing problems, feeling anxious about our future, or having to deal with the issues in front of us, forced to make decisions, right? And I think it’s all too easy to not care and not use our brain, relying on the convenience around us. The worst thing you can do to yourself is to be indifferent to your own problems.”
Asha spoke quietly, carefully choosing her words.
“That’s true. When something goes wrong or you run into something you can’t do or understand, you rely on the immediate knowledge and information and think, “This is how it’s done or how everyone else does it” and just go with that instead of sitting down and thinking really hard for yourself. Knowledge and information are fine but we should never forget to do proper thinking for ourselves.”
“Exactly! It is so important to think. But we’ve all become so busy that we struggle to find the time to think which is scary. Is the world forcing us not to think?”
“I sometimes feel like maybe I’m being controlled by another being, which is quite scary. I don’t have a TV nor newspaper here but when I’m working outside, I’m constantly bombarded with so much information, so I need this space where it’s spacious, quiet, and I can relax on my own. So that I can think about the concerns, the fears, and the anxieties with my mind…”
Asha took off her socks, rolled them up in a ball, and became barefoot. The toenails on her tanned skin looked like cute little white sea shells.

“So what color socks do you like? I like natural, like those earthy colors, brown, grey, things like that.”
“I like grey, it goes well with any clothes, then white, I think.”
“You always choose white, it’s nice.”
She rolled around the ball of socks with her fingers and said, “I always think of my mother when I see rolled-up socks. She would always meticulously roll up the freshly washed socks. Do you do that in Japan as well?”
“My mom does it like this.”
I unrolled her pair of socks, took the rib part of the pair, rolled them and combined the pair together.
“That’s how my dad does it! Wow, you really are like my dad.”
She then gave me a kiss on my forehead and said,
“I just love this.”