The Body Is the Last Human Reality

Oh—okay.

Although I usually teach you about lifting, alignment, or pain,

Today I want to talk about something different.

Something that sits beneath all of that.

Because lately, I’ve been thinking about what it means to be human at all.

I wasn’t raised inside Japanese culture,

but I was deeply influenced by it — by manga and the philosophy hidden inside those drawings.

Stories like Ghost in the Shell and Akira asked what happens when consciousness drifts toward machinery.

They didn’t just entertain me.

They shaped how I see reality itself.

When I first watched Ghost in the Shell, one image stayed with me —

a mind searching for its body,

a consciousness wondering if it still existed.

That image never left.

（From Ghost in the Shell， I watched the 95 ver movie more than 10 times ）

Now, as AI accelerates, those questions no longer feel like fiction.

Machines create, analyse, and teach faster than we can.

One day soon, AI will produce everything we want —

every video, lesson, or idea —

instantly and perfectly.

Each of us will live inside a bubble of customised satisfaction.

Our own world, created for us, by us, through the system.

And when that happens,

will we still feel our lives?

Will we still have independent awareness?

Or will we just be managed —

sustained by whoever controls the energy behind creation?

(I do think a lot…)

So I ask myself:

why am I still coaching?

If AI can teach better,

if it can model structure, movement, even emotion —

what’s left for me to do?

The only answer that feels true is this:

because we still have bodies.

Between thought and reality lies the body —

the last interface between consciousness and the physical world.

It’s where we touch gravity, breath, and existence.

It’s the one space AI cannot enter.

My work isn’t about perfecting performance anymore.

It’s about protecting that bridge.

Every time someone feels their feet again, breathes with awareness,

or stands in alignment,

they reclaim a piece of themselves from the system.

Maybe that’s the real purpose of my work —

not in a hundred years, but in this decade —

to help humans stay human.

To keep us from forgetting that we exist in matter, not in simulation.

The body is the last human reality.

(Or it will be all about experience, nothing about reality…)

For You

When was the last time you felt the weight of your own body —

not as performance,

but as proof that you exist?

Forgive me if today’s reflection feels a little off track.