Aika Kanda Talks About Her Personal Experience With “1,000 Yen”

Troubles that are hard to handle

The other day, I visited Myōtokusan Kegon-ji Temple in Kyoto.

It is also known as “Suzumushi-dera” (Bell Cricket Temple), where in a hall filled with the chirping of thousands of bell crickets, you listen to a witty 30-minute sermon by a monk. Afterwards, you pray to a Jizō statue together with an amulet. The Jizō statue at Suzumushi-dera is unusual in that it wears straw sandals. Because of this, it is said that if you tell it your address, the Jizō will come to your home and grant your wish.

So far, my husband and I have had all of our wishes come true, and we have continued the cycle of making new wishes after visiting to express our gratitude. This was our fifth or sixth visit.

In truth, I had been carrying the same worry since around September last year. I don’t know if it was related, but my weight—which had remained stable for nearly 15 years—suddenly dropped by 3 kg at the end of last year. I was surprised that it even showed physically, and decided I could no longer solve it on my own. (As a last resort, I’ll rely on Suzumushi-dera’s power.) That was why I visited this time.

While listening to the sermon, my husband who came with me made eye contact with me, as if to say, “This talk really suits you right now.” The monk said, “Everything is brought about by one’s own feelings.”

When something happens, it is we ourselves who label it as bad. Because that negative mindset colors everything else, we end up feeling that bad things keep happening to me. He taught us that everything changes depending on how we perceive it.

It was truly exactly as he said. For the past seven months, I had centered my thoughts on the source of my worries, and interpreted everything even slightly unpleasant as something bad happening. But it was I who was making that judgment.

In just 30 minutes, I felt as if I had been reborn. I won’t worry anymore. If everything is ultimately decided by myself, then from this moment on I will take everything positively.

When the sermon ended, we received amulets. The person handing them out was the head priest of the temple, someone I had heard sermons from a few times before. He greeted us with, “Oh, hello there,” and we responded, “Hello! We’d like an amulet, please.” He then told us the amount to offer.

I didn’t have the exact change on hand, so I gave an amount that would result in 1,000 yen change. The priest handed the amulet to my husband while saying, “Kyoto has finally begun to see cherry blossoms.” My husband replied, “We came at a good time.” The priest then said, “Please take care,” and moved on to the next person in line.

But I thought, (Huh!?)
Wait, what about the change?
As my husband walked toward the exit, I kept thinking, (What about my 1,000 yen?) again and again. But I couldn’t say it out loud. Because just moments ago, I had decided to interpret everything as something I myself create and bring about.

Turning the negative into a positive!?

I told myself that instead of thinking, “I didn’t get back my 1,000 yen in change,” I should think, “It was 1,000 yen I’m glad I didn’t get back.”

Then I started thinking intensely: what kind of fee would make it something I’m glad I didn’t get back? Was it the fee for the Kyoto cherry blossom update? Or the fee for being able to speak directly with the head priest? (It sounds a bit like a hostess club, but I had no choice but to think of it as paying 1,000 yen for the chance to speak directly with the priest.)

But at the shoe rack, while my husband was taking out his shoes, I ended up whispering, “Hey, I was supposed to get 1,000 yen in change earlier, but I didn’t receive it.” My husband went, “What!?” in surprise. I quickly added, “But maybe I should just think of it as the fee for speaking directly with the head priest?”—sharing my newly reborn way of thinking.

Then my husband burst out laughing and said, “So everything is up to your interpretation?” He even offered, “Want me to go back and get it for you?” but the new Aika refused.

As I put on my shoes and turned my back to the hall to cut off my lingering attachment to the 1,000 yen, the head priest from earlier suddenly came running out. “I didn’t give you your change, did I!” he said, holding a 1,000-yen bill. My eyes were fixed on it—(My 1,000 yen!)

When I explained, “I was thinking I should treat it as the fee for speaking with you,” he immediately replied, “No, no! You should’ve just said so!” and I got my 1,000 yen safely back in my wallet.

It was a short moment, but I was able to positively reinterpret something I would normally have found unpleasant. If I can sustain that longer, maybe even my current worries will disappear.

But it seems I still need a bit more training for that. For now, I’ll just wait for the Jizō to come visit me. With that thought, I left Suzumushi-dera behind.

Kanda Aika / Born 1980 in Kanagawa Prefecture. After graduating from the Department of Mathematics, Faculty of Science, Gakushuin University, she joined NHK in 2003 as an announcer. She left NHK in 2012 and became a freelance announcer. Since then, she has been active mainly in variety shows and currently appears regularly as a main MC on the daytime program Pokapoka (Fuji TV network).

★ Her first book compiling this series, “Ōdō tte iu michi, doko ni tsūtte masu ka?” is now on sale to great acclaim!

From “FRIDAY” April 17/24, 2026 issue