Five Cultures Becoming One Garden: The "Yohaku" that Cultivates Connections at the Sydney Facilitator Training

The Last Day on the Facilitator Training in Sydney

An Unmoving Schedule, an Insufficient Resolve

I cannot help but feel that the 2030 SDGs Game Facilitator Training in Sydney manifested there truly as a form of "crystallisation".

First and foremost, it was the crystallisation of my own inner wish to make this happen. It had been three years since the very first training was held in Australia back in 2023. Because this programme rolls out globally, its international standard price is fixed in US dollars. Currently, the Australian dollar is weak against the US dollar. Many people who expressed an interest in becoming facilitators immediately bumped against this wall of pricing. Since it is a globally unified price, it was out of my control. Desperate to find a solution, I applied for grants and shared my wish to ease the financial burden on participants as much as possible, but no one stepped forward to align with that approach. Time and again, I planned the training and called for applications, but we never reached the minimum number of participants. Before long, the notice for the Australian training on our website remained marked as "TBA" (To Be Announced) for an extended period.

The person who breathed fresh energy into this stagnation was Mura-chan from Imacocollabo, the organiser of this facilitator training.

"Aya-san, if you leave it as TBA, I don't think this will ever be formed. Perhaps you could consider removing it from the schedule altogether for a while."

It caught me completely off guard.

I had been so distracted by the external circumstances, using them as an excuse. But the real question was: Did I truly have the resolve within myself to step up and do this? I felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under my feet. Did I possess the firm will to put both feet firmly into this, and stand on my ground no matter what? There, I saw the true reason why the training had not formed. My resolve—my sheer tenacity—had been insufficient.

The Breakthrough Idea: A Small-Group Retreat Style for Four

From that moment, the first action I took was to sit down and vividly imagine the details.

Where?

With whom?

How many people?

What is the minimum number required?

What is the maximum capacity?

What kind of people are gathering there?

What are they conversing about?

What kind of realisations ("kizuki") might be born?

As I dug deeper into these questions, a clear idea surfaced.

"If we rent a house and make it a 'retreat-style' experience where a small group of four people live and eat together under one roof, wouldn't that allow us to deliver it in the absolute best way possible given the current situation?"

This thought also connected back to a conversation I had last year with my fellow trainer, Alice, who consistently delivers facilitator training in Europe. We had discussed how we might introduce a smaller-scale format with one trainer to respond flexibly to local needs, rather than always sticking to the standard version that requires a minimum of nine participants and two trainers.

"This is it. In this format, I can see it happening!"

The moment that conviction took hold, I felt a sudden surge of energy rise within me.

When this sequence of imagination was complete, one specific face came to mind first. It was Kawajit-san, a prospective participant with whom I had been in touch for the past three years. She was the one who had continuously asked me, "When is the next training?" From the bottom of my heart, I felt that I wanted her to experience it.

I contacted her immediately to ask which timing would suit her best and which location would be easiest for her to access. Rather than targeting people with no face, I decided to craft the plan around her. Since it is easier for me to host where I have local knowledge, I initially decided to hold it in my hometown of Darwin. The timing would be during the Australian winter. Since Darwin is in a state of eternal summer, it would also serve as a warm winter escape.

A Flexible Flow and a Breeze from Brazil

While things were taking shape, an inquiry arrived unexpectedly from Singapore. To my surprise, this person offered: "If you run it in Singapore, I will use my network to host the training for you."

Singapore is just one flight away from Darwin. At that point, there were already several people in Singapore who had shown interest in the training, so moving the location felt like a viable option. Regrettably, due to various reasons, this plan did not eventuate in the end. Even so, it taught me a profound lesson: to listen to the subtle cues of my surroundings with my whole body.

There are things we must hold onto firmly, and things we must hold onto loosely.

By surrendering ourselves to a sense of looseness and flexibility that is unattached to fixed concepts, things naturally begin to move. And above all, there was a sense of joy in it. When I loosened my grip, my imagination expanded further. I came to believe that my meeting with her happened precisely so that I could experience this state of mind.

And so, the training that had almost drifted outside of Australia found its way back to a fresh start within the country.

Then, another prospective participant appeared from Brazil. There is already one facilitator in Brazil, and this new person had attended one of her events. Working for a global company, she also contributes to her local community through sustainability education. Brazil is incredibly far from Australia. Nevertheless, she demonstrated a powerful determination to attend.

With that, two participants were confirmed. The "small-group retreat for four" that I had envisioned back then was finally beginning to move into reality.

To accelerate this momentum, another wonderful offer came through. My friend Richard Kelly, who lives in Sydney and with whom I have collaborated on various projects over the years, offered to take complete charge of the public simulation event held on the first day of the training. He took on everything—from venue selection and payment to promotion. Having a true champion of this simulation experience walking right beside me as a co-traveller was immensely reassuring. I felt deeply grateful from the bottom of my heart.

While a "retreat" style is relatively familiar in Japan, it required careful consideration regarding the culture of valuing individual space. Even though it was a communal retreat, I searched for a house with five bedrooms—including one for myself—so that personal space could be thoroughly secured.

Ultimately, the retreat life began with three participants and myself, excluding one member who lived locally in NSW. I paid meticulous attention to ensure that the natural bonding among the live-in group did not create any uncomfortable sense of exclusion for the local participant who commuted. However, this later proved to be a groundless worry. Her way of "being" was such that it dissolved any such concerns effortlessly. She possessed a personality that blended into the space naturally and genuinely.

The Pre-Cultivated "Soil" and Why the World Needs "Yohaku 余白" Today

In truth, because I wanted to connect deeply with the hearts of the participants, I had held several online meetings with each of them prior to the training.

Those sessions had certainly cultivated the soil of the relationships between us. Because the soil had been tilled in advance, when we finally met in person, the raw connections sprouted all at once, burst into bloom, and bore fruit. Looking back now, that is the distinct sensation I am left with.

And the element that accelerated this sprouting was the greatest benefit of the retreat style: what can only be described as the presence of "Yohaku" (blank space or intentional margin/pause).

Yohaku is an undesigned time and space where anything is allowed to happen.

Someone relaxing on the sofa.

Someone spending quiet time in their room.

Someone brewing tea in the kitchen.

When we happened to coexist in this space of Yohaku at the exact same moment, unexpected words were exchanged, and conversations sometimes sparked from there. Through these moments, the true essence of each person came to light. By naturally discovering facets of them completely unrelated to the course, a profound depth was added to how we perceived their presence during the training sessions.

Yohaku. In today's world, where being busy is praised as a virtue, it may be a difficult element to find. Yet, if the soil has been cultivated beforehand, even a tiny amount of Yohaku can allow a rich and beautiful dialogue to naturally come into being.

Shedding Titles: The "Parallel" Nature of Souls

As the provider of the training, the core principle I held close to my heart was "being parallel"—creating an atmosphere where we all stand on the same ground. It is true that I hold the position of a trainer, and because I provide something of value, the participants gather there by investing their time and money. However, this dynamic can easily give rise to a hierarchical relationship. And hierarchies tend to breed dependency. I always find it a great pity—a real waste—when someone's sense of agency is diminished through dependency.

Therefore, within myself, I held a clear intention: "I am simply a person whose role is to share the knowledge and experience I happen to possess slightly more of in this particular field." The sharing itself was my role.

And then, to simply respect the very existence of each individual. For me, I feel this is a vital attitude required for each of us to live out our own possibilities.

This training was the ultimate opportunity to put this into practice. Ranging in age from their 20s to their 60s, and looking at their birthplaces, we had people from at least five countries and five distinct cultures: Japan, Brazil, India, Singapore, and Australia. Their backgrounds, specialties, and knowledge were vastly diverse. While I brought the materials to be provided as training, what we all learned from the lives of the people gathered there was beyond measure.

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This is a sensation I also occasionally experience during "Possible World" simulation sessions. Completely independent of age, background, career history, or academic credentials, everyone possesses something unique to offer to the space. In that sense, I truly feel that humans are parallel. It becomes easier to understand when you think about it at the level of the soul. Few people look at others in terms of a "greater soul" or a "lesser soul."

A soul is a soul, and nothing else.