I am currently studying for a Master’s degree in Social Education, but this path began long before my formal studies. Growing up, my family moved often, and I lived in many different parts of Japan. Each move meant leaving something behind and starting again. Over time, I learned how fragile and precious everyday connections can be, and how much we depend on one another to feel grounded.
The 2011 Japanese earthquake and the tsunami that followed changed me deeply, what stayed with me most was not only the scale of the disaster, but the quiet strength of ordinary people and how important this is. I believe this will become even more important as our world continues to change.
Moving between Japan and Scotland has given me perspective. The cultures, histories, and social systems are different, yet it’s the same questions. How do we live together, and how do we support one another?
I was fortunate to spend three months immersed in Compassionate Inverclyde, Scotland over the winter of 2025–2026. This is an independent community-led charitable organisation, and the first Compassionate Community in Scotland. I had the chance to be involved in many projects – all of which are happening at the same time. The key feeling I have is that support is happening every day. It is ordinary and continuous.
I spent a lot of time with the three people who share responsibility and support the wider team of volunteers. The level of sharing and trust is striking, but I was also aware that this kind of relationship feels quite rare and not something that can easily be created anywhere. For me, that rarity is part of what makes it possible to trust volunteers so deeply and to work with them in the way Compassionate Inverclyde does.
I think that volunteering felt like a place of belonging for the volunteers themselves, not only something they offer to others. I often heard people use the word “family,” and that felt like a symbol of how this work strengthens people’s connection to the community, including how they learn to face death together rather than alone.
I sat alongside a No One Dies Alone companion with a patient who died while we were there. That is something that will stay with me. It was a privilege to support this patient who I only knew by his first name.
What will also stay with me is the sense of support that is felt every day. Not in big moments, but in continuity – people showing up, listening, repeating the work, letting it grow slowly. Over time, another layer forms, and the process evolves naturally.
What I carry forward from all of this is a simple belief that feels deeply personal to me: people are a universal resource. When we meet each other with openness, patience, and trust, even small, ordinary actions can become the foundation for meaningful change.
Koko Miyajima
Compassionate Inverclyde