Yesterday the wind was fierce and icy, and it seems Tokyo even had its first kogarashi winter gust of the season. Thanks to that blustery “cleanup,” the sky cleared to a brilliant blue by afternoon.
I’d completely forgotten, but apparently a comet people are calling the “Lemon Comet” is currently drawing near. If I’d looked up at last night’s freshly swept heavens, it would have been a perfect chance to spot it with the naked eye—something I now regret.
As a sort of consolation, though, I happened to come across an article online saying that the Southern Taurids would peak on November 5. I’ve heard of many meteor showers, but the Southern Taurids were new to me. Supposedly they produce a lot of bright meteors.
With that tidbit lodged in my mind, I left the blinds open as I went to bed, drifting off while gazing at the night sky. In the still–dark hours before dawn I woke for a moment and saw a star shining unusually large and bright. “Huh? Was there always a star that big right there?” I wondered—and just then it slid out of sight. It was a meteor.
I felt lucky to have caught one so soon after reading about it—an omen, perhaps, that something good is on the way. The bedroom window faces west, but they say these shooting stars can appear anywhere across the sky. The Southern Taurids are few in number, but right now—early November—is the best time to see them.
If you can, step outside and look up at the night or pre-dawn sky. You might just catch one, too.
From my own experience,
November seems to offer a higher chance
of truly stunning evening skies.
The thought of losing the ability to see such beauty
feels unbearable—
our eyes are something we must cherish.
And yet, with smartphones, tablets, and computers,
modern life forces us
to overwork our eyes. In the past,
I taught only in person, but
after COVID, my work shifted
mostly online.
Because lessons are on Zoom,
my eyes tire more easily than they did in real life.
Printed textbooks are gentler on the eyes,
but now I find myself staring continuously
at digital materials on a screen.
Creating those materials, writing this blog,
and designing ads for outreach—
it’s all computer work.
For me, that’s still far easier
than fiddling with a phone’s tiny screen,
but even so, my eyes
are in constant use all day long. So before,
I often felt real eye strain.
I didn’t have headaches,
but my shoulders would get stiff.
Lately, though—perhaps thanks to sticking with
“Four Toxins Removal”—
I’ve found it much harder to feel eye fatigue.
Before, maybe from the strain, my vision would blur,
leaving the world a little hazy.
Now that’s completely gone. If anything,
things seem easier to see than before.
The shoulder stiffness has almost disappeared as well.
Even after a full day at the computer,
I no longer feel worn out.
Dr. Toshiaki Yoshino, who advocates “Four Toxins Removal,”
has said that eye diseases such as glaucoma, cataracts,
and age-related macular degeneration
are caused mainly by vegetable oils.
Even short of disease, comments on his YouTube channel
report improvement in presbyopia and astigmatism.
Dr. Yoshino himself used to be nearsighted,
yet he says his vision has recently improved.
It took about six years,
but for that to happen at his age (58)—
for nearsightedness to reverse with time—
isn’t that close to a miracle?
Not only with eye conditions,
but with so many different ailments,
we’ve long written them off as “just aging.”
If practicing Four Toxins Removal
can improve such symptoms,
that’s a tremendously hopeful thought.
I began Four Toxins Removal thinking it would be
a limited-time experiment,
but now I want to see
what else might change—
and that curiosity is, so far,
just barely stronger than my urge
to eat those addictive “four toxins.”
As a reward-circuit trigger, the four-toxins foods
are, Dr. Yoshino says,
more addictive than narcotics.
That’s why so many people
can’t quit them easily—
they’re truly troublesome.
I say this as someone who used to be a mayo devotee,
who loved potato chips, fried foods,
pasta, and sweets.
Now that I’ve stepped back from those foods a little,
I feel I can finally see
how modern diets have been continually compromised
by national policy
and corporate advertising.
At last, that summer that tormented us for so long feels unimaginably far away, and I find myself in a season that makes me shiver a little with the cold. Today, too, the rain is chill.
This morning I noticed something. Last night was on the cool side as well, but—I didn’t get up to use the bathroom even once! For the past few years I’d been increasingly bothered by nighttime trips to the toilet and had resigned myself to thinking, “Well, that’s aging for you.”
Lately, though, I feel like I’m getting up less during the night. I hope this is thanks to “Shidoku-nuki” (cutting out the “four poisons”). I’ll keep watching to see how things change once we’re in the depths of winter.
There is, however, one thing that has clearly changed since I started Shidoku-nuki, even while I’m asleep: I’ve completely stopped snoring.
This applied to me, but there were also times when I found my husband’s snoring loud and annoying. (Strangely, we never notice our own snoring.) Being jolted awake by that sound is quite a nuisance when you’re trying to sleep. But that has disappeared. My husband says I’ve stopped snoring entirely, too.
According to Dr. Toshiaki Yoshino’s videos, “snoring” is mainly caused by vegetable oils. I aim for strict Shidoku-nuki (with the occasional cheat), while my husband—who adores bread—can’t give up his morning loaf or sweets with sugar. Still, when it comes to vegetable oils, he’s almost entirely cut them out, same as me.
The truth is, vegetable oils are in so many things that, unless you check strictly, you end up consuming them without realizing it. They’re added even to convenience-store rice and conveyor-belt sushi rice to enhance flavor; they’re in sliced bread and sweet rolls, every kind of confection, snacks, processed foods, convenience foods, and easily prepared frozen items—countless products, really.
What’s a bit frightening is that even formula for babies contains palm oil, which is said to be among the worst oils. Maybe that’s why allergies are more common among children than in the past.
And there are so many kinds of vegetable oils. Even flaxseed oil, long believed to be healthy, or olive oil, and sesame oil—no matter how expensive or carefully produced—are ultimately the same. (I realize many people won’t accept this point. For details, please watch Dr. Yoshino’s videos.)
In any case, under my careful watch, I manage our basic three meals, so at the very least my husband is consuming almost no vegetable oil. As for his morning bread, I bake it in a home bread maker, so while it does use wheat flour, butter (a dairy product), and sugar, I don’t add vegetable oil.
Pardon my hazy memory, but I recall hearing that vegetable oils accumulate under the base of the tongue and press on the airway, causing snoring. (For the exact mechanism, please check Dr. Yoshino’s videos—sorry to punt!)
A more severe version of snoring is sleep apnea. That reminds me of my elderly father. Before he lost consciousness from heart failure and was rushed to the hospital, he snored heavily every day at home and suffered from severe sleep apnea.
Once admitted to the ICU, he was put on an IV and given no food. Even after leaving the acute ward for a general ward, that continued. After a few months of this, one day I realized—his snoring and sleep apnea had completely disappeared.
That wasn’t the only strange thing. When my father was hospitalized, the doctor diagnosed him with aortic valve stenosis. We were told it wouldn’t be cured without a catheter procedure. But given his age, and since he himself didn’t want surgery, there was supposedly no chance of survival without it. All we could do was watch him weaken.
And yet, as time passed, that illness somehow vanished, and the agonizing heart symptoms he had struggled with were completely gone.
The doctors couldn’t explain it, but I secretly believe it was due to Shidoku-nuki. I haven’t said that to the doctors or family—they wouldn’t believe me anyway. But Dr. Yoshino has said on YouTube that many circulatory diseases are largely caused by vegetable oils. Doesn’t my father’s case fit that exactly?
Until he was hospitalized, my father’s routine was bread and milk every morning, something light like udon for lunch, and a mostly Japanese-style dinner—though he would occasionally have fried foods. Worst of all, he loved those vanilla wafer ice cream sandwiches you see in supermarkets and ate them nearly every day.
For an elderly man’s diet, that’s a lot of the Four Poisons. Commercial vanilla ice creams contain plenty of vegetable fats, too. When he was put on IVs and stopped eating, those “poisons” were naturally flushed out. He ate very little, but the IVs kept him going. If, instead, the removal of the Four Poisons cleared his snoring, sleep apnea, and even a severe heart condition—
If that’s truly the case, then even in old age, adopting Shidoku-nuki might offer hope for various so-called age-related illnesses.
Ultimately, of course, the truth is known only to God.
On autumn evenings, the deep timbre of jazz seeps especially gently into the heart.
Tonight I visited Sakutami, a cozy spot in Shin-Kōenji where you can savor live jazz alongside refined Japanese cuisine—drawn there to hear my student, a jazz pianist, perform.
I’ve enjoyed her sets many times at different jazz bars, but this was my first time hearing her play in a restaurant devoted to Japanese cooking.
While her assured playing felt warmly familiar, I walked into “Sakutami” knowing nothing about the place itself. The room was small, calm, and inviting—the kind of space where you can watch the music unfold at arm’s length. What a quiet luxury.
I realized at once that this was no ordinary establishment, that every detail carried the owner’s thought and care. The proof came with my very first order: a single glass of oolong tea.
Even in one soft drink, you could taste meticulous choice. It was free of any muddiness I’d known in other oolongs—clean yet toasty—and served in an ultrathin glass that seemed to lift the flavor even higher. In that moment I felt the pride and precision behind everything they serve.
My anticipation for the food soared—and the dishes did not disappoint.
As an English teacher, I’m forever preaching the value of fundamentals. In cooking too, the foundation is the ingredient—especially in Japanese cuisine. The owner’s eye for good product was remarkable.
Then came the plates that let those ingredients sing. In particular, the salmon nestled among the appetizers and a grilled chicken dish served on its own—both so exceptionally fresh and so deftly seasoned that I’m tempted to say I’ve never tasted salmon or chicken quite like that before.
Naturally, the owner’s devotion extended to the tableware. Under the mellow, amber lighting, a parade of fine vessels gleamed and delighted the eye. A fellow student seated beside me ordered sake, and the sheer beauty of the cup stopped me mid-gaze—and then it struck me:
Of course. The sake here must be as carefully chosen as everything else.
I rarely drink, but curiosity won out. I ordered a glass, and the “Juyondai,” with its abundantly fruity character, proved a perfect choice for someone like me who doesn’t usually imbibe.
What astonished me most was the price. For all this exacting care—every decision so clearly considered—the cost remained modest. If a Michelin-starred restaurant served the same level of quality at an accordingly lofty price, I doubt I would have felt this particular thrill.
At Sakutami the figures are simple: a music charge of ¥3,500, and five courses of cuisine at this caliber for just ¥4,000.
Because the food surprised me so completely, I ended up focusing more on dinner than on the live set—my apologies, Yuko Kashiwabara! And to her fellow performers that evening, trumpeter Yutaro Suzuki and bassist Toshihisa Nagami—both active musicians with CDs out—thank you. Needless to say, the trio’s superb performance made the meal feel even more special.
In the deepening autumn, I left wrapped in the lingering echo of notes and flavors alike—a quietly unforgettable jazz night.
This morning, I was delighted by a crisp, clear autumn holiday—
but before I knew it, clouds had taken over,
and by afternoon the sky looked ready to burst into tears.
Truly, it was just like a maiden’s heart and the autumn sky—so changeable.
Autumn can make us melancholic,
and when the weather turns gloomy,
our mood is especially prone to sink.
It’s common for weather to affect how we feel,
but some people even experience physical symptoms.
A friend from my sports circle once said as much—
she especially suffers from headaches.
At the time, I didn’t have the faintest idea about the “four poisons.”
The other day I happened upon a YouTube video by Dr. Toshiaki Yoshino
that talked about exactly this.
It said that the physical discomfort triggered by weather or barometric changes
can also be caused—or worsened—by the four poisons.
If you suffer when the pressure drops,
I think it’s worth trying “Yondoku-nuki,”
that is, cutting out the “four poisons,” at least once.
But many people who don’t yet know how harmful the “four poisons” can be
will balk if you suddenly bring up Yondoku-nuki—
it sounds unbelievable,
or they snap back, “No way I could ever eat like that.”
If they’d only try Yondoku-nuki for even a short stretch,
they would feel the difference for themselves.
These four foods are woven so deeply into our daily lives
that removing them is a high hurdle to clear.
For someone like me—who doesn’t have any major illness
or particular ailment—to try it anyway
might even seem a bit eccentric.
Dr. Yoshino himself carried the “oddball” label for a long time,
and it’s true that spreading the Yondoku-nuki approach
is no easy task.
At first glance, it looked like good news for Japan.
But I watched it with a lingering sense of “hmm… I’m not so sure.”
Before long, Dr. Yoshino posted a video about it as well.
According to the report, Professor Sakaguchi discovered regulatory T cells that suppress runaway immune responses. This discovery is expected to help in treating autoimmune diseases and allergies, and to advance cancer immunotherapy.
“Hmmm.”
From the viewpoint of Dr. Yoshino and those of us who know that “Yondoku-nuki” (literally, “removing the four toxins”) is a way of eating that prevents illness, it’s hard not to think: “If we simply stopped consuming the four toxins in the first place, that would solve most of it.”
Modern people willingly eat poison, fall splendidly ill, and then cure those illnesses with extremely expensive drugs developed from a Nobel laureate’s discovery. In reality, medical expenses and insurance premiums are rising year after year. How did we end up here?
Who is gorging on profits within this seemingly wasteful social system?
The food and restaurant industries busily push large quantities of unhealthy products onto the public, while the medical industry swells its power through treatment costs and drug prices.
In this contradiction-laden, mass-consumption society, our senses have grown numb. Perhaps that numbness makes it harder for us to notice what’s actually true.
Fortunately, those who have practiced “Yondoku-nuki” and felt its benefits may have been given a chance to recognize these social contradictions.
The “Yondoku-nuki” that Dr. Yoshino advocates carries insights that are that deep.
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