I don't ski anymore, but I used to love skiing when I was younger. It all started when I was in the third year of junior high school, and a childhood friend's family, who often went skiing, asked me if I wanted to go with them.
At that time, my childhood friend Kei-chan told me, who had no experience at all, "Nao-chan, you're smart, so you should study the wedge turn from a ski book before you do it for real."
Kei-chan's kindness was the reason why I was smart. I knew that she was gently rephrasing the fact that I was bad at sports.
Following that kind advice, I grabbed a book on skiing I'd bought at a local bookstore and did some mental training at home, sitting on a cushion and making an incline.
When we arrived at the snowy mountain, Kei-chan and the others literally taught me step by step, even though I was extremely timid.
"As expected! You've done your homework, so you've picked it up quickly!"
He flattered me so much. I was so happy. I couldn't believe it, but I was able to do the wedge in just half a day.
They probably would have preferred to ski on their own rather than teach me. But they still spent that time with me. And thanks to that half day, the door to skiing was opened for me.
All of the fun I had going to ski camps in high school and going to snowy mountains many times during winter during my college years was thanks to my childhood friend being my first teacher.
If I had been left behind at that time with the words, "Well, do your best. We're going up," I would definitely have never known the joy of the slopes.
The same goes for my current work with wine. When I was a radio director, someone taught me the basics of wine, which made me think, "If I were to open a store, it would be a wine store."
If I hadn't had that ``super wine geek mentor,'' I think I would be doing something different now.
My mentor in New Zealand is my cousin. He has been living there for almost 30 years. If he hadn't sent me wine from New Zealand when I opened my store, and if we hadn't toured the wineries together, I don't think I would be who I am today.
As I think back on this, I suddenly wonder.
I'm almost 49. I'm past the halfway point of my life. I think it's about time I became a mentor to someone.
No, that's not true. The mentors who influenced me didn't give me advice with the intention of changing someone's life.
They treated me warmly. They explained everything to me carefully. Thanks to them, I decided to make it the door.
Yes, it's arrogant to try to influence someone's life.
But if every day I continue to do what I love and what I want to convey, and someone, somewhere, thinks, "Thanks to you, I'm glad," then that's enough. Even if they don't say it directly, it's enough if you can somehow get the feeling that it's being conveyed.
What I need to do now is to communicate with passion and never give up. That's all there is to it.
By the way, I've been writing radio scripts for almost 30 years, but now that I think about it, I've never been properly taught how to write them.
That's why I still stumble over my words, get the grammar wrong, and occasionally get a call from Kobayashi Katsuya complaining.
