Shiranai Koto Shiritai Koto [work] May 2026
In one essay, she wrote: “Every morning I walk to the same bridge. I have seen that river ten thousand times. But this morning, I noticed the shadow of the railings made a pattern like fish scales. Shiranai koto, shiritai koto. I didn’t know the river could do that. Now I want to know what else it has hidden.”
That is the gift of shiranai koto, shiritai koto . It doesn’t demand you change your life. It demands you notice your life. This is not a philosophy for mountaintops and monasteries. It is for Tuesday afternoons. Here are three concrete, small ways to bring the phrase into your daily rhythm. 1. The Five-Minute Ignorance Scan Set a timer for five minutes. Sit somewhere ordinary—your desk, your couch, a bus stop. Ask yourself: What are five things in front of me that I don’t actually know?
Shiritai koto (I want to know you—not your data, not your resume, but your living, breathing, wondering self). shiranai koto shiritai koto
This transforms small talk into discovery. It also deepens relationships, because every person is a library of shiranai koto . Keep a small notebook (or a note on your phone) titled Shiranai Koto, Shiritai Koto . Every time you catch yourself wondering about something, write it down. Don’t research it immediately. Let the question live.
This is not about productivity. It’s not about winning trivia night or impressing a professor. It is about restoring a sense of wonder to the ordinary. Here’s the problem most of us face. We are born curious. An infant will stare at a ceiling fan for twenty minutes like it’s a revelation from the gods. But somewhere between school, work, bills, and the endless scroll of social media, we trade curiosity for competence. In one essay, she wrote: “Every morning I
Now whisper to yourself: “I don’t know everything about you. And I want to.”
We learn just enough to get by. We know the route to work, so we stop seeing the buildings. We know how to brew coffee, so we stop smelling the beans. We know our partner’s habits, so we stop asking them questions. Shiranai koto, shiritai koto
That “oh”—that small, quiet exclamation of wonder—is the heart of it. Stop reading for ten seconds. Look around you. Find one object you have seen a hundred times. A lamp. A coffee mug. A crack in the wall.