After gently untangling our "thinking frames" and experiencing a warm cycle of offering and receiving during the morning's Japanese session, I stepped through the door into another "Possible World" that afternoon. Participants brought their own unique lives and aspirations to the table, connecting Singapore, Brunei, Taiwan, Australia, and Japan to manifest an alternative reality. This afternoon English session revealed a deep human tapestry where global structures and personal struggles intersected in ways quite different from the morning session. The energy of diverse members from five countries gathering through the screen, captured in this single moment. A World Without a Clock and the Trap of "Hyper-focus" In the English session, we simulated a world where "no one knows when it will end," much like real life, by keeping the game timer paused. Some participants felt a sense of relief, thinking, "It’s great to have no time pressure," while others were gripped by the anxiety of the unknown. The fact was simply that the timer had stopped—but how one perceived that fact depended entirely on their individual mindset. In this uncertain world, the participants’ natural "mental habits" began to surface. One participant became so engrossed in completing their own project that they completely failed to notice the needs or cries for help from others. Reflecting on this "hyper-focus," they later shared their desire to explore the possibility of being more attentive to the needs of the community if given another chance. Another participant accumulated significant funds but didn't spend them until the very last moment, missing the chance to support others. They viewed it as a calculated strategy based on risk and timing. However, because their intention wasn't shared, they experienced the risk of being perceived by others as simply hoarding wealth. Then there were those who fell into a sense of helplessness, waiting for "someone else to do something" because environmental or social parameters weren't meeting the requirements for action. This image of an individual standing still mirrored the stagnation we often see in the real world. Structural Challenges: Wealth Inequality and the "Green Snowball" As the game progressed, a serious imbalance emerged. The Economy meter surged to "22," while both the Environment and Society meters were left behind in a critical state at "1." A world emerged in Round 1 This situation caused strong frustration for some. One participant pointed out sharply, "It was a scene where wealthy nations monopolised riches to such an extent that poorer nations had to sacrifice the environment and society just to survive." It was a stark reflection of the structures of our actual world. However, a breakthrough occurred that shattered this stagnation and division. It was a moment where human consciousness drove action and dramatically changed the outcome—the dynamic of the "Green Snowball," born from the participants' dialogue. During the reflection, a proposal was made: to move environmental projects forward, we should "spend time with those who have the funds and educate them on the necessary conditions and requirements." By collaborating, the participants shared a collective vision of creating a "Green Snowball" effect (an environmental snow-balling impact), and the momentum suddenly shifted towards the environment. As a result, in the "second chance" round, the Environment meter grew with remarkable ease. It was a moment where words moved minds, shifted choices, and completely repainted the state of the world. On the other hand, the "Society" meter struggled to grow, as it wasn't discussed as much as the environment. This highlighted the cold reality of how difficult it is to satisfy everything at once, and how the world changes its form entirely based on what we are conscious about. A world emerged in Round 2 Never Giving Up and Finding New Ways to Communicate As revealed in this Possible World, the world is filled with all kinds of people. There are those who live with humility, knowing what is "enough." There are those who accumulate wealth with the intention of being helpful, waiting for the right timing. And there are those who are calling out, "I can help!", but whose voices haven't yet reached the world. Given this reality, the world might not be as flourishing as we desire just yet. But there are certainly people there with the pure intention of making it a better place. Like fruit on a tree, it can take time for the results to ripen. That is why we must never forget: the most important thing is not to give up and to never stop moving forward, no matter how small the step. While waiting for the right timing, there might still be something we can do. And if our voice is too quiet to be heard, we can look for other ways to speak to the world. Testimonials After the session, we received feedback from the participants. The exchanges and conversations across borders were insightful. Discovered that there needs to be more bridges between funders and financiers with those working on environmental and social initiatives. Going through the game for the first time really shows the big imbalance between those striving for economic success and those aiming for environmental and societal stability. Getting only a few minutes to try and save it afterwards really does show the limited amount of time we have but also how much we can do if we work together. It's amazing to see people from all around the world share the same sentiments and goals when it comes to creating a more sustainable world. Getting to hear everyone's ideas on how we can improve and take action can really inspire people to think more about what else we can do. Whether it was the gentle harmony born in the "after-session" chat of the Japanese session or the trajectory of the "Green Snowball" found through dialogue in the English session, the destination is the same. People from diverse backgrounds gathered here through their respective connections and helped cultivate the soil of "Kizuki" (awareness) together. I feel deep gratitude for their presence and their persistence, even when they stumbled or felt like giving up. Every world is up to our mindset and action. Every world, without exception, depends on the mindset and actions of each and every one of us. By gently loosening our mental frames and living within a warm cycle of offering and receiving, these small, simultaneous steps will continue to shift this world—and all possible worlds—towards a kinder future, piece by piece.

One particular Saturday, I hosted "Possible World" sessions back-to-back: one in Japanese in the morning and one in English in the afternoon. Both sessions were unfolded so organically. They were initiated by people I had the pleasure of meeting, who simply expressed a pure curiosity to experience the workshop. In the past, I used to plan these sessions unilaterally, perhaps once a month, based on my own schedule. However, since the beginning of this year, through various encounters and learnings, I have begun to focus more on my connection with the world and the concept of "Wholeness". Now, I start by respecting the other person's "will to do" and the timing of our connection. I open the space with the intention of listening to the voices of the world and gently supporting someone's aspirations. This is my "here and now"—an approach that feels in harmony with the natural flow of life. Through these sessions, what we found ourselves facing once again was the existence of "mental frames" that bind us. Breaking Free from Mental Frames At some point in our lives, we all build "mental frames" to protect ourselves. I don't intend to make them the villain. However, these rigid frames can unconsciously rob us of the chance to meet other possibilities and keep us stuck. Instead of "learning" about these "frames" through a lecture, each participant arrives at their own awareness (Kizuki, 気づき) and internalisation (Haraochi, 肚落ち) through a process of actual experience via simulation, pausing for reflection, verbalising thoughts through dialogue, and sharing feelings. It is through this journey that each individual reaches their own realisations (Kizuki) and internalises them (Haraochi). Despite the Japanese and English sessions comprising people with different languages, cultures, backgrounds, and ages, the essence of what emerged was surprisingly universal. From 'Give and Take' to 'Offer and Receive' We tend to live in a world of "Give and Take." If we receive something, we feel we must return something. If there is no "return," we feel we cannot ask for what we want. But when we step outside that mental frame, a completely different world of "Offer and Receive" unfolds. You simply offer what you can offer. You simply receive because you were blessed with the opportunity to receive. The moment that action occurs, a "gift"—the warming of the heart—is generated simultaneously. Do what we can, when we can. This continuous, multi-layered unfolding will surely shift the world into a gentler place. One person's words move another's consciousness; that consciousness influences choices, and those choices determine actions. The accumulation of the collective results of these actions is the state of the world we see before us right now. I would like to share the details of the waves that stirred in the participants' hearts and the raw dramas and realisations that were born in both the Japanese and English spaces, starting with the Japanese session. Part 1: The Japanese Session – Unravelling the Frames and Finding Harmony The Japanese session of "Possible World: The Savannah" began in the morning light. What unfolded was a beautiful drama of raw emotion that could never be gained through classroom learning alone. The Collapse of the Organiser's Mental Frames Right from the start of this session, I was made aware of the "mental frames" within myself. I had unconsciously set a condition that "having a PC environment is a requirement for participation." This condition was narrowing the possibilities for participation. However, when we welcomed those who found PC operation difficult or those who were travelling as "observers," an unexpected richness emerged. Watching the players immersed in their immediate tasks and anxieties from a "bird's eye view," the observers were able to gently point out important truths that become invisible when you are in the thick of the game. "Everyone could just enjoy themselves more!" Furthermore, a participant who had initially started to shut down, thinking "I can't do this," was able to notice their own paradigm of "giving up before trying" through the presence of supportive peers who respected them without judgment. A perspective looking at the world from the outside gently began to unravel the rigidity within. The Unsettling Feeling of "Unconditional Goodwill" and Paying It Forward With many first-time participants, voices of confusion about how to proceed with the game arose here and there. When a person with surplus funds unconditionally offered money to a participant who was panicking because they couldn't do anything, a strong sense of discomfort leaked from the receiver, describing it as "unsettling." "Money should be received as compensation for doing something." That transactional assumption, deeply rooted within us, makes it difficult to simply receive unconditional love and goodwill. However, once we realise that beneath the transaction of the tangible lies a wish to be of use to someone, a "circulation" begins—where unnecessary resources flow toward those who need them. When we give ourselves permission to gratefully accept goodwill, the warm feeling born there is eventually handed over to someone else (the Japanese concept of On-okuri, 恩送り, or paying it forward). On that day, in the Japanese session, the seeds of this "Offer and Receive" were sprouting everywhere. After-session Miracles: A World in Harmony Even after the official session time ended, some people remained in the "Savannah" as if it were after-school hours, spontaneously engaging in small actions and deeper dialogues. The world that was initially filled with confusion and haste transformed beautifully during that quiet, lingering space. The final meters this Savannah world recorded were: Economy: 10, Environment: 11, Society: 10. It wasn't that one specific value stood out. Instead, an inclusive economic growth, the regeneration of a rich natural environment, and a harmonious society where everyone had the opportunity to learn stood beautifully side-by-side. Not because someone told them to, but through their own will and dialogue, the world proved it could grow this gentle and abundant. "Fulfilling yourself is as important as working on society." "I saw with my own eyes that money doesn't just disappear when you spend it; it circulates within society." The footprints of each individual examining their own "mental frames" and sharing their desires became a tangible sense of shifting the real world into a kinder place. However, we must remember that the "perfectly balanced" result is not the "correct" answer. It is not a balance achieved by fitting into a predetermined mould, but a balance sought from the inner beauty and pure desires of each individual that brings true impact to the world. So, what kind of internal dramas did the members who participated in the English session—across borders and languages, under the pressure of an uncertain timer—experience? In the following Part 2, we will follow the trajectory of the wealth gap and the "Green Snowball" effect they discovered.

An annual family camp in a place where there is absolutely no phone signal. My daughter is now a Year 12 student, so I spent the 4 days of off-grid life feeling a little sad and deeply moved, thinking this might be the last time she comes along with us like this. Where the sky and water surface blend into one. There was no being rushed by smartphone notification sounds, and no being distracted by things happening on the other side of the screen. By putting myself in an environment with "no signal", I left the world of all artificial digital connections, and instead, I felt my own senses being unlocked. This time, I want to write down what I saw and felt through my skin exactly because there was no signal. The Ambiguous Road of Nature Where Textbook "White and Black" Does Not Work During this trip, my daughter with her P-plates took the steering wheel of the 4WD on an unsealed mountain road. I was watching over her quietly from the back seat, and right there was a continuous organic process between "knowledge" and "practice", which means "living learning". "For a rough road of this level, a 4WD diff lock is not necessary." "On sandy ground, let the air pressure out of the tyres to increase grip and widen the contact area." This kind of knowledge is, so to speak, a "clear-cut white and black correct answer" which can be seen in a manual. However, the actual road in nature is not that simple. The shadows cast by the sunlight filtering through trees hide the bumps on the road surface, and the boundary of where is safe and where is not is always ambiguous. A linear rule of "if you do this, that happens" does not work. It is necessary to continually fine-tune how to turn the steering wheel and press the accelerator, while feeling the grip of the tyres and the shaking of the car body in that exact moment. While watching my daughter's driving as she moved in a zigzag to avoid small rocks, I felt the importance of moving forward with open senses. It is not about judging whether something is "correct (white)" or "incorrect (black)", but feeling our way through the ambiguous area in "between". Making clear-cut white and black knowledge drop into the gut (Haraochi, 肚落ち) one by one, through the organic movement of endless fine-tuning. I witnessed that process right in front of my eyes. The Power of Making Things Clear-Cut, and What Gets Scraped Away And another thing that stayed in my mind was the simple and yet organic communal life in the mountains. Unlike everyday life where we progress plans in small steps according to the hands of a clock, "the position of the sun" was a more important standard of action in nature. While the sun is out, we comfortably proceed with setting up the tent, preparing dinner, collecting dead wood for the campfire, and drawing water for washing dishes. What was interesting here was that there was no clear delegation of roles as to "who does what". A person whose hands became free after finishing one task voluntarily started the next job. Exactly because we did not drift off to smartphone screens, everyone's body and mind were both "here". We were moving our own hands while always keeping people doing other tasks somewhere in our sight, feeling each other's presence (Kehai, 気配). Looking back on everyday life on the other hand, we might be placing too much emphasis on making things "clear-cut white and black". Of course, when we set a purpose clearly in a team, clarify each person's roles, and make a plan, a tremendous power to push forward towards the purpose may be generated. The clearer the purpose and goal are, the more that power is converted into great energy. However, no matter how precisely we divide roles and make a plan, there always exist "things left behind", "things scraped away", and "things out of plan". The more we are moving in a straight line with a clear direction, the more we become unable to notice those things falling through the cracks and the changes in our surroundings. The "Yohaku" Born From the Undefined When we seek efficiency and results, we assign tasks neatly without gaps like puzzle pieces, designing it so as not to leave any Yohaku (empty space) there. And a "division of roles" that is too clear sometimes leads to "division of people". The moment work is carved up, it leaves our own hands and becomes "someone else's business", making it harder for us to care for the person taking on that task, especially when we don't see them. Because we cannot even feel the presence of the other person, if things do not progress at our assumed pace, it is so easy for us to make one-sided evaluations like "slow" or "inefficient". On the other hand, like this camp, a rich Yohaku existed where there was no clear delegation of roles (no clear-cut white and black). When we do not assign clear roles to a person, a Yohaku is born for us to become aware of our surroundings and to think about offering a helping hand. We do not pack the schedule tightly, and a Yohaku comes along to "watch over someone's unfamiliar task from the side and wait". This open space called Yohaku is like an invitation to Kizuki (realisation). Because it is there, room to pause is born, and there we can sense each other's presence, look around the whole, imagine what is calling next, and move spontaneously. Rather than being instructed by someone or forced into a role, we sense the atmosphere of the whole and become involved in that space gently by our own will. Come to think of it, in Japan, we have been surrounded by these Yohaku-like things in our daily lives and culture since ancient times. The ambiguity of not making things clear-cut white and black, or the way of feeling each other's presence without putting it into words. In modern efficiency-focused society, it is sometimes perceived as frustrating, but originally, it might have been a very rich and highly advanced system for each person to be autonomous while moving in harmony as a whole. Moving together, feeling the presence, proceeding at each person's pace, and respecting that mutually. Doing each single thing with care and love from the heart, opening our senses. Instead of dividing and disconnecting, keeping them in our thoughts even when we entrust tasks, sharing rich Yohaku, while each remains autonomous yet organically connected as a whole—. These were four days where the importance of such things was warmly absorbed into my body and soul. Every world is up to our mindset and action. Indeed, what kind of world we create is, in the end, up to our daily mindset and action like this.