[Crossroads and Heaven on Earth] (casual essay / journal)
I sometimes wonder what it really means to “go to heaven.”
I’ve always liked the phrase “heaven on earth.”
And I really like the idea of manifesting God’s kingdom here on this earth.
In the most famous Christian prayer, “The Lord’s Prayer,” it says: *“Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”*
And Jesus Christ said: *“The kingdom of heaven is among you.”*
To show the glory of God’s kingdom while still living here on earth—that’s something beautiful.
It’s also kind of like “heaven on earth,” which feels very rock’n’roll to me.
After all, Jesus said, *“Take heart. I have overcome the world.”*
—
Resignation is a part of life.
Human beings can’t have it all.
At some point, after living long enough, you find yourself thinking:
“Yeah, I guess this is about it. This is my life.”
Or: “The human world… it’s probably just like this.”
Little by little, people start seeing limits in everything.
We draw invisible lines in our hearts and tell ourselves: this is as far as it goes.
That’s natural, because human beings are finite creatures.
I’m no different.
I’ve been like that for a long time. As an indie musician, I sometimes wonder:
“How many more years can I keep making music?”
Or even more plainly: “How many more works can I create before it’s over?”
I’m not young anymore, and these days I even start thinking about my lifespan.
“Oh, this is probably my limit. Beyond that, I won’t have enough time or life left.”
Looking back, I’ve made a lot of work under the name “Imari Tones.”
Back when I was solo, there was *Kodoom Metal.*
Then, with a band, *Hero of the Light.*
*Japanese Pop,* recorded in Germany.
Our first real Christian album, *Victory in Christ.*
Our major work, the historical concept album *Jesus Wind.*
And *Nabeshima,* a double album into which I poured my whole being.
Most recently, I was able to make what I called a “happy ending album,” *Coming Back Alive.*
That alone makes me happy. Just making it this far feels like extraordinary good fortune.
Now I’m trying to make a new EP, maybe six or seven songs, tentatively called *Godman EP.*
And if I can, next year or the year after, I want to make another historical concept album, *Christian Samurai* (working title).
If I can reach that point, I’d call it total achievement. A full arrival.
(Of course, I still have other plans, many songs, and countless ideas for things I want to do.)
—
But no matter what, humans have limits.
Our time is finite.
And when death comes, I’ll probably wonder:
How much did I really accomplish on this earth?
Looking back, I’m sure my life’s work will seem like something trivial—like dust in the wind—compared to human history and the flow of society.
(And that’s fine. After all, human life isn’t about status or success. If we can live happily and joyfully, that’s the best thing of all.)
If there’s happiness for human beings, it’s probably found in believing in something greater than ourselves.
As for me, I’m a Christian and a “gospel musician,” in my own way.
In kanji, it would be “宗教音楽家”—a musician of faith.
So if I think of it this way: in all of human history, I was able to step into that great current of “gospel” by believing in Christ, the Cross, and Love… then that’s happiness.
Even if my own existence is small and fleeting.
Because human beings have limits.
Because human life has limits.
—
But maybe those limits don’t really exist.
I believe we can’t take money to heaven.
Not our property, nor social status, nor fame.
We can’t take material things.
But maybe we *can* take our souls, our spirit, our concepts.
In other words, the essence.
Material things are temporary.
What is unseen—that is the essence.
It’s like that Buddhist idea: *form is emptiness, emptiness is form.* (…I think.)
That core (芯)—truth(真), heart(心), God(神)—maybe that’s what we can carry with us into heaven.
Art, and music, probably belong to that realm of “concepts.”
So maybe the music we made on this earth, the sounds we played, the ideas we built—maybe we can bring them to heaven.
I don’t know what heaven is like.
But surely, it’s better than this world.
No, infinitely, incomparably better.
And if in such a place, we can still play music—
If our music doesn’t end here on earth but continues even further—
Or even more, what if this earth is just preparation, and the real show begins in heaven?
—
That’s when the meaning of the “Crossroads legend” becomes clear.
At the crossroads, a guitarist meets the devil.
In exchange for selling his soul, he gains earthly success and supernatural guitar skills.
The story passed among guitarists—made famous by Robert Johnson and others.
Which means: the devil’s goal is to tempt gifted musicians, give them earthly success, but steal their souls so they can’t play in heaven.
Because the real stage, the true show, is not here on earth but in heaven.
And when you think of it that way, it makes sense.
Whoa, wait a minute.
You mean it doesn’t end with death?
There’s more after that?
We can play even more?
On a bigger stage? In a bigger world?
With guitars and amps beyond imagination, with sound systems we can’t even conceive of—
With an audience beyond imagining—
And jamming with musicians beyond anything we’ve ever dreamed?
And in that vast world, we can continue this journey of musical pursuit?
If that’s true—wow.
It sent a shiver through me.
I felt this huge thrill in my chest.
So many more possibilities.
Eternity and infinity.
Endless potential.
If that’s the case, then I’m in.
Limits of the body or life don’t matter.
I’ll keep writing songs, honing skills, and growing until my very last moment.
And I’ll keep opening my heart until the end—
To people, to love, and to God—
So I can understand that “something greater.”
—
By the way, I actually found a “Crossroads” near my neighborhood.
Yes—that legendary crossroads where you’d sell your soul and make a deal with the devil.
I thought it was somewhere in Mississippi in the American South, but nope—
I found it right here in Hodogaya, Yokohama.
(Of course, I’m not selling my soul or anything!)
But that story’s for next time.
(Originally written in Japanese, translated by Mr.GPT)