Utopia at the foot of Mt. Fuji : finding ontological security within an intentional community : an investigation into the motivations for joining Konohana Family

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Utopia at the Foot of Mt. Fuji

Finding Ontological Security within an Intentional Community: an investigation into the motivations for joining Konohana Family

Sophie Catharina van der Heiden, 10662626

Master’s in Cultural and Social Anthropology, GSSS   Under the Supervision of Dr. Tina Harris

2nd_{Reader: Peter van Rooden. 3}rd_{Reader: Olga Sooudhi} allatomswithin@yahoo.com

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Declaration: I have read and understood the University of Amsterdam plagiarism policy [http://student.uva.nl/mcsa/az/item/plagiarism-and-fraud.html?f=plagiarism]. I declare that this assignment is entirely my own work, all sources have been properly acknowledged, and that I have not previously submitted this work, or any version of it, for assessment in any other paper.

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INTRODUCTION

“Everywhere people are suffering, caught by the instabilities and inequities of neoliberal globalism run amok. In the acceleration, and spread, of a market logic

that has privatized more and more of life and deregulated more and more of capitalism’s engine for extracting profits, the struggle—and often failure—of everyday life has become an all too common story for all too many people around

the world”

- Allison, 2013: 5

This thesis will present an ethnographic look at the members of an intentional community in Fujinomiya, Japan, called Konohana Family (henceforth KF), and the underlying factors motivating their decision to join this community. Because these citizens have actively decided to live in a community that is ‘outside’ the current economic and political system, insights into what members perceived as unsatisfactory or negative about ‘regular society’, as well as how they describe their experience of living in KF, can provide insights into their underlying

motivation for joining. What is it that this intentional community provides, that members believe modern Japanese society in general does not? By not only looking at members’ explicitly stated reasons for joining and their opinions about ‘external’ society, but also engaging in an analysis of members’ in-depth life-stories, I analyze present situations within modern Japan, and how this has affected members’ lives. Through this, light can be shed upon not only the possible social and economic tensions within contemporary Japan since the 1990’s, but also of citizens’ experience regarding modern neoliberal patterns of progress in general. Engaging with ideas about capitalism, the economy, precarity in Japan, neoliberalism, community-mindset versus

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individualism, and consumerism, I take a broad look at how Japanese citizens of various social and economic classes are affected by, and experience these processes. By comparing members’ experience within KF with their experiences during their previous life in ‘regular’ society, I have found that several main aspects of the community result in a gain of ontological security within members. Since KF refer to themselves as a utopian community that strives to attain a perfect living environment not only within the community, but also the entire world, there is a clear suggestion that they believe the world, as it is, simply is not perfect. Which aspects of the community that differ from the ‘regular society’ lead the members to experience life in KF as more positive, meaningful, and ontologically secure?

Anne Allison (2013), discusses some aspects of neoliberalism that have affected Japanese in a specific way, focusing on how the changes in policies resulting in an increase in temporary and irregular work, and economic insecurity, have lead to a general precarity within citizens. Allison (2013) describes precariousness, in general, as having “employment that is uncertain, unpredictable, and risky from the point of view of the worker” (6). She describes that, since the economic bubble burst of 1991, the shift from liberal capitalism to neoliberalism has hit Japan hard, the shifts in policies and mindset resulting in “a recession that lingered on (and on),” with Japanese losing abilities to attain jobs, homes, and futures (6). And indeed, having successfully focused on life-long employment in the 1970s and 1980s, “one-third of all workers today are only irregularly employed”, leaving them with lack of job security, benefits, or decent wages (Ibid, 5). The lack of benefits is also due to the privatization of welfare, putting health insurance, and pensions, in the hands of corporations, instead of the state. But I argue that financial and job insecurity is not the only factor affecting Japanese, for there is much more at play than material deprivation alone. What is lacking in scholarly work regarding Japanese citizens current position, is the idea that they are suffering from ontological insecurity (Giddens, 1990), regardless of whether they are suffering from financial or job insecurity. Thus, furthering Allison (2013) and Fu’s (2013) focus on financial and job precarity in Japan, I add the aspect of more general ontological precarity or insecurity. Ontological insecurity is experienced due to a lack of

meaningfulness and trust within the work-environment and the economy in general. I emphasize

the importance of having an economy that is transparent and makes sense – is meaningful- and having a sense of meaning and trust present within individuals’ work environment, by

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highlighting how members of KF experience/d and perceive/d their life within KF, in contrast to their life in ‘regular society’.

As HuiyanFu (2013) argues, the spread of neoliberalism has made a “profound impact on the nature of work,” changing “what work is” and “how people perceive and experience work across many parts of the world”, and describes more specifically how this is experienced within Japan (27). Fu focuses on job insecurity, low wages, and poor working conditions that are caused by the neoliberal shift in policies within Japan, and while Allison also focuses on this subject, she also briefly touches upon ontological forms of precarity, including purposefulness, a grieved death, and a sense of belonging. I argue that the onset and full embrace of neoliberalism has resulted in even greater ontological insecurity, as risks are perceived to have increased even more so with the privatization of welfare provisions, the abstraction of the market, and

environmental crises. Living in the information age, many citizens are now well-aware of these issues and, due to this, and for some also due to their personal financial insecurity, feel a sense of ontological insecurity, that does dive further than precarity regarding jobs. More so than this, I argue that ontological insecurity can go further than the worry of potentially life-threatening risks, to include an ontological insecurity regarding the trustworthiness and morals embedded within the system, including the economy and work priorities. This ontological insecurity thus not only includes anxiety for one’s own subsistence and well-being, but for society as a whole as well. By living in KF, members have found the ability to engage in what Anthony Giddens (1990) terms radical engagement, allowing them to cope with imminent risks, feeling as though they are making a positive societal difference, and lifting them above the ontological insecurity that consumed many of their lives prior to joining.

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RESEARCH QUESTION

Central Research Question: What influences individuals born and raised in Japan, to

choose to live in an alternative intentional community such as Konohana Family, and what factors were related to this change of lifestyle?

Sub-questions:

1. What are members’ views of modern society, and what issues did/do they have with ‘regular’ society, if any?

2. What do they believe they gain by living in KF? What do they believe KF can provide that regular modern society does or can not?

3. What were respondents’ lives like before KF, and how does this contrast to their life within the community?

4. What life events influenced their choice to live an alternative lifestyle at KF, whether consciously or unconsciously?

METHODOLOGY

I found Konohana Family through the website Fellowship of Intentional Communities, and, and gained access to community simply by filling out a visitor request form on their website and explaining my situation and interest in researching their community. Since they are very open to visitors, and also strive to spread their message to the world, my arrival was welcomed. Living in the community for 12 weeks, sharing lunch and dinners everyday, and a bedroom every night, with community members, I felt like I was able to gain a holistic perspective on the

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community and its everyday life and activities. Furthermore, by also travelling through various other areas of Japan, such as much of Shikoku Island, Osaka, and Tokyo, I was able to gain some experience in both highly rural and highly urban areas. I engaged in participant observation, not only through the everyday experience of living and eating alongside members, but also through participation in various work-sectors, such as working in the warehouse and the fields.

Furthermore, I joined the Konohana Family choir during my stay, and performed alongside members during the frequent ‘Welcome Concerts’ they held for visitors. In addition, I

participated in the week-long ‘Earth Summit’ that Isadon, the main founder of Konohana Family, had organized for visitors, alongside an array of Taiwanese, Japanese, and people from various other countries. In short, I was able to gather a variety of observations, both through

participation, and pure observation, by living in the community.

As my Japanese was very limited, pure observations and eavesdropping conversations was simply not an option. For this reason, I chose to mainly research the sub-questions via semi-structured interviews. I had a total of 18 respondents, with which I engaged in 29 interviews. I had the privilege of being able to use two members of the community, namely Tomochan and Michiyo, to be my translators for the respondents who did not have enough grasp of the English language to participate in an interview without a translator. Michiyo, the main translator, is exceptionally skilled in the English language and has had previous experience as translator. Tomochan, however, did not have as high of a grasp on the English language, and thus the (three) interviews she translated, were of a slightly lower quality. In both cases, however, translation brought limitation, not only in being unable to know the exact wording a respondent used, but also in the fact that respondents may have not been as transparent in their answers while with a translator who is also a member of the community. Of course, this issue is always a possibility, as respondents might always have some hesitation in telling the entire truth or whole story. I believe, however, that respondents, for the most part, were transparent to be the best of their ability. Many comments throughout my research were made that if people are not honest, they can not be a member, and if members try to hide parts of their lives to the rest of the community, they are not following the mindset that the community encourages. For this reason, and given that most of respondents’ comments align with my own experience and perception of KF, I believe that this problem is only minimal.

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By beginning with their childhood, and following a semi life-story methodological approach, I was able to get information relevant to each of these sub-questions in a fluid way. Furthermore, by asking comparative questions, after getting to know their life-story, of how their life was then, and whether it is different at all living in KF, also gave fruitful information. Lastly, directly asking about specific things such as their opinions of consumerism, capitalism, the economic system, etc. sometimes offered a wonderful source of information from the respondents, but with others, it proved not to work as well. For these respondents, I found it worked very well to mention for example the economic system of KF and how it affects their life, and then ask them to describe how this differs from the economic system in their hometown, giving me insights into their views on the economic system in a different way. Thus, for different types of respondents I changed the strategy of how to attain information from them. Furthermore, during their life-history narratives and follow-up interviews with each respondent, I asked

directly about experiences with previous jobs, and their work/roles within the community. By asking about respondents’ level of well-being before and after joining the community, and their ideas of what happiness is during different times of their life, gave me insight into possible differences in respondents well-being prior and after joining. Furthermore, during their life-history narratives and follow-up interviews with each respondent, I asked directly about experiences with previous jobs, and their work/roles within the community, and previous economic situations and experiences, versus experiences of the economic system within KF.

I always conducted the interviews in an empty room with a certain degree of privacy, that was located in the main house of KF, one which all members were familiar with and comfortable in. In the beginning of each interview, I assured my respondents that they did not have to answer any question that they did not feel comfortable with. Except for one awkward moment where a respondent did not wish to tell me the father of one of her children, all respondents answered all of my questions. Furthermore, I asked all my respondents what they would like their alias to be, and given that they all insisted that I use their real names, I have not anonymized any names. The fact that all respondents wished to maintain their real identities within my thesis, shows how deep their motto (Honesty, Sincerity, and Trust) flows within their lives. Respondents truly wish to remain transparent in all things that they say and do.

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Lastly, I kept a personal journal – which helped a lot in regards to understanding my own emotional reactions to events, and also helped me to analyze and strategize how to go further with my research. Furthermore, I wrote plentiful field-notes of observations and interactions, as well as detailed transcripts of certain community meetings. Living and experiencing the

community first-hand was unique and very insightful. I will continue by providing a greater understanding of what this community really entails, and what it is like to live there.

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CHAPTER 1:

SETTING THE SCENE

INTRODUCTION TO THE COMMUNITY

In the midst of rice paddies, lush mountains, and interspersed forests, lies an intentional community of nearly 100 people living as one ‘big family beyond blood’. The community, named Konohana Family, located in Fujinomiya, rural Japan, was established in 1994, by 20 individuals and one main founder, Isadon. These founding members, inspired by Isadon, started this community because they felt there was a need to create a model for a more positive and sustainable society. In the community, members share everything: from living spaces, to

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Konohana Family is the unique economic system they have created for themselves. All members, upon becoming a permanent part of the family, must put all of their savings into the communal pot, for all KF members’ benefit. The members, though all having many different ‘jobs’ within the community, such as rice-making, vegetable harvesting, barista, cooking, international communications, care-guest support, etc., are not paid for this work directly. There is no salary, and there is no ‘true’ financial incentive to do the work. If we were to break down individual incomes, however, it comes down to 240,000 yen per year for each member, which is the equivalent of 1771 euros. This is well below Japan’s poverty line, and yet, all of the

members’ needs are met via the community: basic amenities, clothing, an abundance of food, housing, child-care, health-care, children’s university tuition, etc.

Furthermore, they are completely self-sufficient in regards to food-production. In fact, from their organic and bio-diverse agricultural activities, KF produces 10x more food then they themselves need. They grow a vast array of goods, including 217 types of vegetables, 10 types of grains, 36 types of fruit, and 9 kinds of rice. In addition, they tend 400 free-range chickens, and engage in beekeeping, that produces over 1 ton of honey each year. The land they use for agricultural production is actually borrowed, given for use by elderly individuals, who have grown too weak to tend to their land themselves. Wanting to maintain their land, and being unwilling to sell it, these elderly individuals were more than willing to let KF members use their land for their agricultural production. The fact that they engage in organic, bio-diverse

agriculture, that increases the health of the soil, is an added bonus for these land-owners.

Each member is given, or asks to have, a role that most suits their abilities and character, or a role that would best suit their personal growth in specific areas. Such as Mika, who used to be an affluent architect, who, among other things, works as the main architect for the

community, even having completely designed a new building to house members, from the ground up. Some members have multiple roles, such as Michiyo, one of my respondents, who is in charge of international communication and translation for visitors and written texts for their website and blog, because of her excellent capacity in English. She also works at the

community’s Lotus Land Café, and is also part of the main singing quintet, that sing at the welcome concerts given to visitors. All the children, approximately 25, at KF are seen as being

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brothers and sisters, and the biological parents are encouraged not to be the main care-taker of their children. The children are raised by all members, though there are specific members who take the role of main care-takers of all the children, or specific age-groups of children. The children attend public school, because the community believes it is important for the children to be aware of the ‘outside world’ and make their own decisions on how they would like to live in the future.

Lunch and dinners are eaten communally in the main dining-hall which also serves as the location for nightly community meetings, where daily activities are discussed, plans for

subsequent days or months, any issues occurring with specific members, or within specific sectors of the community, and where, simultaneously, beans, peanuts, and the like are sorted out by members. Members refer to their community as not only Utopia at the Foot of Mt. Fuji, but also as the Village of Bodhisattvas. The latter refers to the spiritual dimension of the community, all members perceiving themselves as humans trying to improve their mind, and attain a higher sense of enlightenment, but not yet having reached that state, just as Bodhisattvas. The spiritual element within the community is quite complex, in the many aspects that are related to their views about the world and about people’s mindsets. The introduction presentation consisted almost 50% of spiritual explanations about the universe, historical events based on spirals of the sun within the milky way, levels of consciousness, eras of change, the Mayan Calendar, and so much more. Furthermore, through my interviews, I found that not all members are as active spiritually as others, some simply focusing on the day to day tasks, instead of on the grander spiritual mission present within the community. To make it simple, the main spiritual aim within the community is to improve one’s own mind and awareness, in order to bring about positive change to the outer world and society. In regards to how the neighboring locals perceive Konohana Family, I have heard both accounts of keen interest and positive opinions, and more ambivalent feelings, some believing KF to be a cult, and idea which many Japanese are

apprehensive about, and which two of my respondents also mentioned in their initial judgment of the community, before joining.

All respondents state that there is no hierarchy within KF or a boss that makes the ultimate decisions. Although I found this to be partially true, given the high level of group

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decisions, self-responsibility, and equality present between members, I do feel as though this view of KF is partially biased. The main founder, and spiritual leader, Isadon, is clearly a main figure within the community. Members take his advice to heart, and he is mentioned frequently during the day, and many times within my interviews with respondents. Even a simple question asking my respondents to describe their personality, was answered by telling me what Isadon told them about their personality. This may be partially due to the ‘Character Analysis’ Isadon and Mika create for members, and visitors at their request, that describes the person’s attributes, both good and bad, based on astrological facets, and advises them how to work with and around these attributed to grow as a person. However, it was clear during my interviews, and my 2 and a half month stay, that Isadon has a huge influence on the rest of the members. Though it may be true that he does not make ultimate decisions, Isadon may be more capable of swaying other members’ opinions and decisions, than other members. Whether this is a presence of a certain degree of hierarchy, or is simply due to his charming and spiritual qualities, is hard to

distinguish. For the purposes of this thesis, however, it is what members experience and perceive that is important, and my respondents did not feel as though there was any hierarchy at all

present within the community, but that there rather was a high degree of equality and empowerment.

Lastly, KF engages in multiple endeavors, such as the healing room, where massages and various sorts of healing are offered by members with specific skills to the public, and to the members themselves, as well. Furthermore, a Natural Therapy program, is run by Isadon and Yoko, one of my respondents. This program, commenced in 2006, is offered to individuals outside of the community that suffer from mental illness or drug-addiction, and provides housing and food for these care-guests until they have been relieved of their issues. These individuals get personal guidance from Isadon, and are assigned a member of the community to be their mentor in day to day activities. During my fieldwork, there were two men staying at KF through this program, one a mere 18 years old, who suffers from anxiety and twitches, while the other is in his late twenties, suffering from depression and a ‘lack of spirit’ resulting in fatigue. One of my respondents, Misa, started out in KF as a care-guest, suffering from bipolar disorder, and has since then remarkably been relieved from most of her symptoms. The community asserts that they “do not cure guests,” but instead give them the help they need to investigate their own mind

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to find the “root cause of their disease,” and also provide an environment that improves their “life consciousness” and “mental immunity” (Introduction Presentation, June 27th, 2017). My argument is that KF provides individuals an ability to find more useful coping mechanisms (Giddens) to relieve them of the ontological insecurity that has resulted in their mental illnesses. Furthermore, members believe providing an organic and natural “diet full of life energy”

improves physical conditions as well decreasing emotional instability and mental disorders. They have been highly successful in helping care-guests overcome their problems. In order to give a better idea of what it is really like to live in the community, I will take you through one of my own mornings at KF.

AN EXAMPLE OF A TYPICAL MORNING

It’s a warm summer morning in Fujinomiya, Japan, as I lay still sleeping on my typically Japanese futon, laid on a floor made up of tatami mats. A rustling noise, as one of my room-mates, a KF member and full-time baker at the community, wakes up to head down the stairs and start the day’s activities, baking bread. It is around 5 in the morning, as she silently walks past me from her corner of the room. I shift positions, exposing some of my skin from under the blanket to ameliorate the oncoming heat and moisture from the rising sun, as I try to continue my slumber. In what seems mere minutes, but was in actuality a couple of hours, I hear another person stirring. It’s Toshichan, a slender woman in her 70s, who works in the fields and makes ceramics. She tries quietly to dress herself and fold her futon before sliding the doors open that lead to the washing sink, three other bedrooms, and the stairs. Notoriously enticed by physical comfort, I continue trying to get more rest. But Kanoko, another room-mate, soon wakes as well. She is a cheerful, sporty girl of 15, who has a surprising grasp of the English language. At this point I realize, I should rouse myself as well. After clothing myself, folding my futon, and brushing my teeth, I head down the stairs, walking past rooms reserved, mainly, for guests, or sometimes used by members and their respective care-guests. One of the care-guests is up as

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well, standing in front of the downstairs sink, brushing his teeth. He looks at me through the mirror as he waves and nods. “Ohayo1” I say, smiling.

I continue walking, past the dining hall temporarily set up during renovation of the common room- where communal meals had been eaten previously, and I am greeted by Satchan, a cheerful and somewhat comical woman, and one of my main respondents. “Ohayo

gosaimasu!2” She greets, while she folds children’s clothes, fresh from the laundry, along with several other women, one of which is close to eighty years old. There are three little ones, ranging from 8 months to 2 years old, walking or crawling idly around in the room, being watched by the laundry folders. Earlier, members had eaten their breakfast in this room, interspersed in time – breakfast being the only meal not eaten communally and set to start at a specific time – taking white rice or fermented brown rice and mixing it with a freshly cracked raw egg. I never did get used to the idea of eating raw egg, and thus never ate breakfast at the community. “Bye-bye!” Kochan, an exceedingly adorable 2-year-old boy, calls out to me as I continue walking, through the sparingly adorned, classically Japanese, hallway, now through a make-shift hallway that connects two adjacent houses. Having arrived in the second house, I pass the kitchen, where sounds and smells of cooking fill my nostrils and ears. More members greet me, and some children as well, who run down the stairs from their second story children’s floor. Some of the children put on their shoes and run outside, to collect acacia-insect shells from trees, or bike around the courtyard. I walk in their direction as well, passing the common-room

currently in renovation, and slip into my flip-flops at the doorway. The children of preschool age, are running around with little backpacks on, wearing shorts and little hats as part of their

uniform, ready to go to preschool, driven there today by Marine. “Ohayo!” Marine shouts, in her care-free, almost blunt, manner that never failed to make me feel comfortable. She is also one of my main respondents. I wave the little ones goodbye, and catch Hiromi in the corner of my eye. She nods, smiling, and I walk towards her. She looks down at my shorts, and urges me to get a long pair of pants, and a long-sleeved shirt. Also, do I have boots? She asks me. I should have been prepared for this, as I am working alongside her and other members of KF in the fields today. Without a hint of impatience, Hiromi ushers me back to my room.

1

Ohayo is the Japanese way to say good morning, in an informal way.

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Once I am outside again, with the proper attire, Hiromi hands me a pair of gloves and arm-protectors, as I had not taken her advice to get a long sleeved shirt, my being slightly

rebellious and stubborn sometimes. I see that Murachan, a long-term guest, is already in the van, cheerfully waving at me. “Hey! Are you ready?” I say, smiling. “Yes! It will be fun that you come along,” she says, good-humoredly. Murachan, in her early thirties, has a good grasp on the English language, and combined with her amicable personality, and her tendency to laugh at my jokes, I found her company quite enjoyable. As soon as everyone is in the van, we start heading towards the fields, making a quick stop at the warehouse, to gather some tools. We soon arrive at one of several fields that KF uses to yield their vegetables, where peanuts are to be harvested. Setting up the location with bins for us to sit on, and bins for us to put the peanuts in, Hiromi explains what we will do. Hiromi, one of my main respondents, is a slender and petite 39-year-old woman, surprisingly youthful, who yields an unbelievable strength. Her hands,

disproportionate to the rest of her body, stick out like a Great Danes’ paws; her arms, deceivingly slender, unearth the soil at a speed unnatural for any human. In the fields, under the sun, working away with her powerful limbs, Hiromi is clearly in her element. She is a mother of three, and like three of my other respondents (Yasuedon, Mika & Satchan) divorced her husband in order to become a KF member in 2006. Hiromi began her career as a decorative gardener, where she became interested in finding ways to avoid using chemicals to grow flowers (and later, produce vegetables), as she was worried about the pollution it not only caused for humans, but the ocean and environment as well. Her ontological insecurity about the earth and humanity’s health, lead her to discover a new technique using EM (Effective Micro-organisms) that causes no harm to the environment, even increasing the biodiversity of the land. Her interest in EM is what

eventually brought Hiromi to KF, as Isadon was famous at the time for creating a very powerful recipe to produce EM and using it effectively in KF’s agricultural endeavors.

We all sit on crates, a group of five, pulling peanuts from the unearthed plants, and dropping them in the crates in front of us. Mount Fuji, in all its splendor, ever present, looming just around the corner. We chatter idly, enjoying the sun, and relative mild temperature of that day. I notice many different insects nestled in and crawling over the peanut plants. “They are beautiful,” I comment. “There are so many more insects since we first started to work in these

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fields,” Hiromi says, dreamily, “The biodiversity has increased tremendously”. “Oh really?” I ask. “Yes, I can feel the insects are very happy here, and so is the earth, and the plants too”. She goes on to explain that an environmental surveyor, interested in KF’s agricultural techniques, even came to analyze their fields, and found that, compared to similar fields in the surroundings, KF fields have a remarkable diversity of insects. With this she is pleased. After some time, we have finished harvesting. “Time for a break!” Another member announces, and we all head back into the van, gathering our supplies as we walk along. We drive back down to the warehouse, where KF members are cleaning and preparing harvested vegetables, either for selling, or for consuming themselves. Murachan and I go to wash our hands, and then sit down on the table, where a small array of various items is placed for us to snack on. Along with Isadon and the bee-keeping team, other people from the field and rice teams, and some people in charge of the warehouse, we all sit amicably on the table. Since I am the youngest among the group, I am told to say the ‘prayer’. “Itadakimasu su shimasu, Itadakimasu3!” I say, and they all smile or laugh

cheerfully at my attempt to do the prayer correctly. “Kawai4” one of them remarks.

When we are finished with our snacks, having eaten them at a leisurely pace, we head back with the field team members from earlier. This time, we drive to a different field, where Murachan and I will help clear the netting around the beanstalk set-up. Occasionally, one of us gets up to grab another sip of KF King juice, made up from the same micro-organisms as the fertilizer is, that one of the field team members brought in a big jug, for all of us to enjoy. Soon, it is time for us to get back to the main house, in order to have enough time to take a shower before lunch is served. Once arrived, Murachan and I, both covered in mud and leaves, head to the common bath-room. While showing next to each other, we are both filled with a pleasant mingling of physical ease and mental alertness. “That was nice huh?” Murachan asks, “The sky and the earth, it feels so good to work outside”. I agree. Once dried and clothed, it’s almost time for lunch. A variety of dishes in bowls and plates, are being brought to the temporary common-room, where there are 6 long tables positioned strategically, where one can sit, Japanese style, on the tatami mats underneath while eating. When most of the expected members have arrived, the

3_{Itakadimasu su shimasu, Itadakimasu, roughly translated, means “I humbly receive” and “Thanks for the food”.}

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last stragglers are urged to sit down, as the prayer is commenced. Once the prayer is finished, those who have not served themselves, get up to grab a plate or bowl. Spread out sporadically, the adults and children all eat from the same ingredients, freshly prepared by the cooking sector. Given a full two hours to both eat and take naps, before commencing work again until dinner time, most members eat casually and slowly, enjoying idle chatter with other members or children, or talking with members from the same sector about the plans for the rest of the day. When finished eating, I grab my dishes to bring to the kitchen, where members volunteer sporadically to wash and dry the dishes. As others lay down wherever they can find relative peace to nap, I go back upstairs to write down some field-notes. Not long after, one member, who does not share this bedroom, comes inside, lays on the tatami mat, and sleeps. This

happened often, and shows that all rooms are not seen as private, but rather as able to be used by any member.

CURRENT & HISTORICAL CONTEXT

“It is within this context of growing global oligarchy and plutocracy and attendant socio-environmental crises that humanity and anthropology find ourselves enmeshed. The social and ecological consequences of global neoliberalism are dire, manifested in almost every aspect of the

world's diverse biocultural landscapes.”

Veteto & Lockyer, 2015: 357

Konohana Family was established within a specific framework of economic change in contemporary Japan. In the 1980s, Japan was characterized by high economic growth, secure jobs, and “global belonging” (Allison, 2013: 85). Japan was the icon of a “speed, high-growth capitalist economy” but this did not last very long (Ibid, 85). The economic bubble burst of 1991 triggered a rapid decline that ended in “ghastly financial failure” (Ibid: 86). It is within this framework that KF was founded in 1994. Because these changes within the nation happened so drastically, individuals found themselves in a “crisis of confidence,” full of “weariness and fear of the future” and an “air of resignation” (Ibid: 86). At this time, many Japanese became

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filled with “hopelessness,” feeling stuck in a “world whose horizons have shrunk and timeline has stopped” (Ibid, 87). I agree that a lack of hope is apparent within citizens (and my

respondents) even now, due to the apparent risks and increase in ontological insecurity (Giddens,1990). I argue that by living in KF, members have re-found hope and ontological security through the meaningfulness of their work, economy, and lifestyles. It is therefore possible that the founding of KF was one attempt to regain ontological security, and a sense of control within individuals’ lives. In chapters that follow, I will show how this works through two lenses: 1) money and the economy, and 2) work. I show that by changing the ways they engage with both money and work, members of KF have gained a greater sense of purpose and

ontological security, through making what they see is a contribution to their nation and society as a whole.

In the 1950s, the state forms that were emerging globally such as liberal democratic forms, as in the United States, and bureaucratic forms, such as in Japan, all had some key aspects in common. Firstly, both focused on “full employment, economic growth, and the welfare of its citizens” (Harvey, 2007: 10). Furthermore, policies stated that the State could intervene in market processes in order to achieve specific goals to benefit the state and its citizens (Ibid, 10). Unlike today, states created “industrial policy,” and “set standard[s] for the social wage,”

creating welfare systems such as health care and education. Market and corporate activities were constrained by the state (Ibid, 11). Initially, this strategy was quite successful, both for citizens and the economy, but by the late 1970s in countries such as the United States, and the early 1990s in Japan, a different strategy emerged, because of an apparent decline in economic growth. Furthermore, with average life expectancy in Japan rising, in conjunction with major decrease in fertility rates, these economic issues became wearisome.

Because of this, a political shift occurred, which David Harvey (2007) describes as the “revolutionary turning point in the world’s social and economic history,” that still lingers, even thrives, to this day (1). The shift included new policies to “deregulate industry, agriculture, and resource extraction, and liberate the powers of finance” both within states, and “on the world stage” (Ibid, 1). This doctrine, termed ‘neoliberalism’, transformed into a “central guiding principle of economic thought and management” across the globe, affecting not only Japan, but

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nearly every other country in the world as well (Ibid, 2). What neoliberal thought suggests is that human well-being can best be advanced by liberating individual entrepreneurial freedoms and skills within an institutional framework characterized by strong private property rights, free markets, and free trade (Ibid, 2). States lost their capacity in regulating or intervening with market processes, and have privatized health-care and social welfare, inevitably putting citizen’s well-being in the hands of corporations, and thus in control of the impersonal market processes. It has become clear, that individuals’ well-being is not in the interest of those investing in neoliberal agendas, and that most of the population is suffering, instead of benefitting, from this shift, through decline in providing welfare and job security. As Allison (2013) makes clear, “lacking the means or opportunity to advance despite the ambition to do so is the hallmark of capitalism in its neoliberal, global manifestation” (83). The population of Japan is no stranger to this phenomenon. Believing there was nothing left to lose, it is exactly through this pessimism that KF was established.

PRECARITY & ONTOLOGICAL INSECURITY

“Humanity finds itself in a precarious position.”

Veteto & Lockyer, 2015: 358

In Allison’s (2013) eyes, while focusing on work and labor, the changes that have come from this shift in political ideology has resulted in more precarious working conditions. Although precarity is experienced by all human beings, Allison (2013) argues that the Japanese are

experiencing a unique form of precarity related to their work situation (4). Once a country based one lifelong employment, Japan is now one where “one-third of all workers today are only irregularly employed” and an astounding “77 percent earn less than the poverty level” (Ibid, 5). As Fu (2013) states, neoliberalism in Japan has “tilted the balance of power more firmly in favor of capital and against labor” (28). In line with Allison’s arguments, Fu describes Japan as being filled with “individualized and relatively powerless workers” confronting “deregulated, flexible,

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and segmented labor markets” (28). Japan’s attempt to alleviate their economic troubles, by steering towards a more impersonal “market-oriented direction,” has led to “widening labor market disparities” and precarity (Ibid, 28). In short, the government’s newly introduced policies and regulations, such as privatizing welfare provisions, and deregulating the market,

have “legitimized and consolidated the dominance of corporate interest over the well-being of vulnerable workers” (Ibid, 28).

We are living in an “economic and ecological crisis” filled with “environmental

degradation, job-less growth, debt, social inequality, poverty, [and] hunger” with states that fail to “respond reasonably and concertedly to these problems” (Parra & Walsh, 2016: 232).

Constanza Parra and Casey Walsh (2016) argue, and my respondents agree, that these “crises are the result of an incessant drive for profit and growth” (232). The interesting, and perhaps even positive, thing about this is that the insurmountable level of these issues, perhaps resulting initially in a total loss of trust and hope in citizens, can eventually lead to individuals feeling a “need to act in new ways” (Ibid, 232). It is precisely the moment when one feels as though there is nothing to lose, and nothing is in one’s own control, that one begins to “consider alternatives that are considered utopian” in order to bring about positive change control (Ibid, 232). In a way, this idea is precisely what can be illustrated by the existence of KF, which was founded three years after the bubble burst, and at the onset of Japan’s shift towards neoliberalism. This sense of lost hope, not understanding one’s place in the world, and an anxious feeling of things being out of one’s own control, is what leads to ontological insecurity. Giddens (1990) describes the opposite term, ontological security, as referring to “the confidence that most human beings have in the continuity of their self-identity and in the constancy of the surrounding social and material environments of action” (92). Given the unpredictable changes occurring worldwide, and more specifically in Japan, economically, job-wise, and environmentally, individuals have been led to a sense of ontological insecurity. Furthermore, Giddens argues that there is a strong connection between trust and ontological security. Many Japanese citizens, living in the information age, are well aware of the misinformation governments spread (such as the state declaration that the Fukushima Nuclear disaster was ‘under control’), the priorities of the State which undermine the well-being of its citizens, the environmental crisis which most states do not seem to be

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aspects and many more, which will be discussed in subsequent chapters, have resulted in

citizens’ loss of trust in the State, and in their guaranteed welfare in general, which is one factor influencing their state of ontological insecurity.

Having a sense of ontological insecurity can lead to mental illnesses and anxiety, such as having a “deep disquiet that feeds into many of the things that [a person] do[es]” such as

constantly wondering whether “what is perceived really exists” (Giddens, 1990: 93). This ontologically insecure driven anxiety can also include “worr[ying] constantly about the

possibility of nuclear war” where one simply “cannot push the thought of th[ese] risk[s] aside” (Ibid, 1990). Through my research I have found that several of my respondents either suffered from these issues quite intensely, or in a mild sense, prior to becoming members. Giddens (1990) argues that individuals living in the neoliberal context are at a greater risk of suffering from ontological anxiety, than previous times, and Japan is no stranger. Ontological insecurity then results in mechanisms to try and “cope with an indeterminate or actively hostile environment in which the absence of feelings of inner trustworthiness mirror the unreliability of the outside world” (Ibid, 95). Giddens lists four mechanisms individuals use to cope with this ontological insecurity, namely: pragmatic acceptance, sustained optimism, cynical pessimism, and radical

engagement (135-137). Pragmatic acceptance means individuals merely focus on survival and

day-to-day tasks while, in a way, repressing the underlying ontological anxiety and insecurity they feel inside, which “repeatedly surface[s] at a conscious level” (Ibid, 135). It includes an air of resignation, believing that most occurrences in the modern world are outside of anyone’s control, and thus they focus only on temporary gains. This coping mechanism was seen in many of my respondents lives prior to joining KF, such as Satchan, Tomochan, and Keigo.

The second coping mechanism, sustained optimism, includes “a continued faith in providential reason in spite of whatever dangers threaten at the current time” (Ibid, 136). This adaptive reaction involves a deep belief in the strengths of rational thought and science’s ability to deal with most issues in the world. None of my residents showed signs of this particular coping mechanism. Cynical pessimism, however, was seen by several respondents, such as Tomochan, Kyoko, and Satchan. This mechanism includes “the conviction that, whatever one does, things will turn out badly” which is either combined with a “nostalgia for ways of life that

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are disappearing or a negative attitude toward what is to come” (Ibid, 136). Needless to say, this coping mechanism does not lead to proactive behavior, and many times can lead to “paralyzing depression” (Ibid, 137). Lastly, and most pertinently, the fourth coping mechanism is radical

engagement. This mechanism includes an “attitude of practical contestation towards perceived

sources of danger” or risk, believing that, even though society is filled with many issues, individuals can and must “mobiliseeither to reduce their impact or to transcend them” (Ibid, 137). Unsurprisingly, this coping mechanism’s main vehicle is social movement, and in

Giddens’ eyes, is the most useful and effective coping mechanism. As stated earlier, I argue that, by living in KF, members have found the ability to engage in radical engagement, lifting them above the ontological insecurity that consumed many of their lives prior to joining.

The founding of KF might be an insight that citizens have lost hope, trust, and a sense of control, and are thus now willing to try something totally different, to mobilize change in order to offset risks and dangers, and successfully attain self-actualization and in turn ontological security as well. Through radical engagement, KF has found a way to strive towards a ‘real utopia,’ that is not filled with ontological insecurity.

INTENTIONAL COMMUNITIES AS RADICAL ENGAGEMENT

Terms such as communal experiment, alternative society, collective settlement, Utopian experiment, and Utopian society have all been used historically to refer to what we now call intentional communities (Sargent, 1994: 13-14). Through the evolution of the term, the hint towards a relation between intentional communities and utopianism is evident. KF also describes the community as ‘Utopia at the Foot of Mt. Fuji’. There is a clear link between intentional communities and the notion of utopia, and I will show how these two concepts provide insights into the inherent motivation behind KF to find alternatives to problems within society at large, and to strive towards a better, and more just society, by living as example.

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Intentional communities go back as far as the 1800s, if not much further. An example from this time period are the “visions promoted by Saint-Simon, Fourier, and Owen of

harmonious communities” that were born “out of the disillusionment produced by the failure of European bourgeois revolutions to achieve the trumpeted promises of life, liberty, and

happiness” (Parra & Walsh, 2016: 231). Though the definition for what these communities actually entail has shifted over time, some basic concepts have been ever-present. Such as the idea that intentional communities are created through individuals, coming “from more than one nuclear family”, who consciously choose to live together with a “mutually agreed upon purpose” (Sargent, 1994: 14). The community must consist of a group of at least “five or more adults,” who live together with the idea that doing so will “enhance their shared values” (Ibid: 14). In fact, there must be a form of shared values, projects, or visions, in order for the community to be considered an IC (Intentional Community) but the content or form this takes is not specified, for these aspects vary tremendously. However, Lucy Sargisson (2004) asserts that the existence of any given intentional community, inherently suggests a dissatisfaction felt by the members with the current lifestyles available for them outside of the community, as was mentioned in the examples from the 1800s.

Members of an IC thus seek to “collectively realize” (Sargent, 1994: 321) a vision of a better life, voluntarily coming together “for the purpose of ameliorating perceived social

problems and inadequacies” (Metcalf, 2012: 21). By looking at these qualifications, one can see the possible link with utopianism. Utopia, however, is usually conceptualized as “not oriented to reality,” but only as a “vision of a better life” that is inherently unattainable (Sargent, 1994: 24). Intentional communities, however, believe striving toward a utopia can be manifested in reality.

Bill Metcalf (2012) asserts that intentional communities consist of people who “seek to live beyond the bounds of mainstream society by adopting a consciously and usually well thought-out social and cultural alternative” (21). Given the 4-hour long introduction presentation I received upon arrival at KF, consisting of many power-points explaining every aspect of their lives, values, and ideas about mainstream society, KF clearly meets this criterion. This

presentation discussed everything from the history and intent of the community’s foundation, the economic system, spiritual beliefs, division of roles in daily life, methods of agriculture, levels of self-sufficiency, explanation of how the community facilitates a ‘harmonious spirit’, including

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the natural therapy program, and community meetings, and how KF can be a ‘model for a new society’. Unsurprisingly, the guests who joined this presentation to learn about KF had trouble maintaining focus after so many hours of such meticulously detailed information. However, it is safe to say that we were all impressed.

Besides having a well-thought out social alternative, members in an IC are “characterized by a ‘we-consciousness,’ seeing themselves as a continuing group” that is “separate from and in many ways better than the society from which they emerged” (Ibid, 21). In chapter 2 and 3, it will become clear how KF parallels this definition, by exploring their views on mainstream society, their lives before KF, and their experiences of living in KF – which includes not only many examples of a ‘we-consciousness’ but also criticism of mainstream society and a pride in the lifestyle offered in KF. Furthermore, Metcalf (2012) argues that members of intentional communities live more empowered, comfortable, equitable, secure, and interesting lives with smaller ecological footprints, and as I will argue in subsequent chapters, these aspects, in addition with others, result in KF members experiencing their lives as more meaningful and ontologically secure, as opposed to mainstream society (22).

There are also some misconceptions around the concept of intentional communities, such as the idea that “members are impoverished, living on lentils and brown rice” (Ibid, 26).

Although it is true that “the average income within intentional communities is almost always lower than that received by similar people in wider society,” their lives are by no means of lower quality (Ibid, 26). As stated earlier, KF’s economic situation, if separated into individual

incomes, would, in Japanese standards, set them below the poverty line. However, they state that due to their lifestyle, which includes a significantly lower level of consumerism, living together, sharing household items, and eating communal meals, actually gives them the ability to live more affluent lives, despite the financially lower salary. In alignment with this, it has been found that while “people living in intentional communities have less disposable income, their access to and ability to enjoy material things is higher than in the general population” because, among other things, “sharing resources usually lowers living costs” (Corr & Macleod, cited in Metcalf, 2012: 26). Metcalf (2012) asserts that members of ICs “appear to be happier with their lives” in contrast to “people living conventional lifestyles,” and my research also reflects this (27).

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CONCLUSION

In conclusion, the current and historical context of Japan has led an increase in Japanese citizens’ ontological insecurity, not just including their economic and job security. This, in combination with the information age, resulting in easy access to knowledge about current events and issues, citizens are becoming increasingly aware of the imminent risks that all of society faces, some more than others, including but not limited to economic insecurity, corporate interest undermining the well-being of citizens, environmental crises, and the ever-present risk of nuclear warfare. By examining the underlying characteristics and motivations behind intentional

communities in combinations with notions of utopia, it becomes clear that contemporary Japanese citizens might seek to join an intentional community, in order to gain ontological security, through a sense of gaining control over their lives, and radical engagement.

Exploring these two aspects, it becomes clearer how KF members might experience their lives within KF as being more filled with meaning and ontological security, in contrast to their previous lives in mainstream society. Specific examples of just how their lives are experienced as more meaningful and ontologically secure, will be discussed in Chapter 2 and 3.

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CHAPTER 2:

MONEY, THE ECONOMY, AND ONTOLOGICAL INSECURITY

(Graph taken from KF introduction power-point)

Money rules the world. In essence, this is not necessarily a negative thing. The creation of money, a calculable currency, has simplified things immensely. Once, an individual might have had to trade their lamb for 3 kilos of rice, in order to then find another trader, willing to take the 3 kilos of rice in exchange for the medicinal herbs the person was seeking. Now an individual can directly acquire the object or good one is seeking, through the exchange of money for that good. Without having to go through multiple people and multiple exchanges, the system of exchange has been greatly simplified. In short, money is a positive and useful tool, as it serves as a “universal yardstick against which to measure and evaluate the universe of objects, relations, services, and persons” (Maurer, 2006: 16).

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But when money is seen as being part of, or feeding, a system of corruption, fraud, and destruction, individuals’ perception of money may falter. Furthermore, as Bill Maurer (2006) asserts, “people freak out when the apparent hegemony of money’s fictionality and abstraction is newly revealed,” hinting that the information age’s ability to reveal such abstractions can

emphasize citizens’ state of ontological insecurity (27). Due to a lack of fully understanding the system because of its abstraction and complexity, citizens can lose trust in the system altogether, something which is revealed several times in members’ experience and opinion of the economic system. When the value of money “becomes uncertain” and the “social construction is no longer hidden,” the ‘naturalness’ of money is no longer apparent, and the “potential for a radical re-construction becomes greater” (Carruthers & Babb, cited in Maurer, 2006: 28). This is exactly what can be seen in KF in their creation of a newly-constructed economy, that seeks to regain that ‘naturalness’ by making the economic system similar to ecology, or the healthy blood flow within a human body.

As mentioned earlier, Fu (2013) and Allison (2013) focus on how money and the economic system affects individuals, by looking at Japanese financial and job precarity. I too, focus on financial precarity, however, in the case of KF members, it is not just financial insecurity that results in ontological insecurity, but also a distaste and distrust in the economic system in general as well. The way the economic system is set up, how money is circulated, attained, and distributed, as well as the incessant focus on and greed in economic attainment, is seen by members as negative, trifling, and worrisome. I argue that the difference in the economic system within KF, as well as how money is viewed and distributed, positively influences

member’s ontological security and well-being.

Members view money as losing its meaning and ‘cleanliness’ – or purity - by being attained via methods that seem arbitrary, unfair, or immoral. When the economic system does not seem to truly be helping ‘laymen’, but rather aids in the exponential growth in wealth of the elite or the State, citizens might lose faith in the system altogether, which leads to increased ontological insecurity. Furthermore, when money, is used as a form of manipulation to instill fear in those who are not part of the higher elite, individuals might become preoccupied, hoarding money, and suffer from a constant ache of anxiety for the future, and ontological

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insecurity. This is exactly what members of KF have described in their experience of money within regular society, and which they directly contrast with their experience of money within KF. If it is true that money rules the world, then by deductive logic, it must be true that money rules people within that world as well. What is money doing, then, in individuals lives?

When taking a step back from the details, it becomes clear that respondents longed for a more just and ‘natural’ economic system, that is built upon a framework based on needs, versus wants, and works towards benefitting the most people possible, in an equal manner.

Respondents, in a way, wished for a more ‘meaningful’ and less arbitrary economy, in that they wanted the circulation of money to make sense, the money to be spent in a meaningful way, and the focus to be less on attaining money for money’s sake, but more on doing something useful with said money. The KF economic system, in being seen as aligning with above mentioned aspects, results in a greater trust in their constructed economic (micro) system, and subsequently, a higher state of ontological security.

SAVINGS

As was stated earlier, when individuals decide to become a member of KF, they must put all of their individual savings into the ‘communal pot,’ for everyone to benefit from. After this decision is made, they are no longer able to take these savings back. Clearly, this is a significant decision to make, and I wanted to investigate how much money respondents had in their savings before giving it to the community, as well as how they felt when giving the money. I believe by not only being aware of members’ financial situations before becoming members, but also by learning how this loss of individual savings is experienced, I would be able to gain important insights into how members perceive money and the economy, both in KF and ‘regular’ society. Furthermore, given that most of the respondents I interviewed had significant savings before joining, we can rule out the possibility that respondents mainly join KF out of financial desperation or precarity.

The amount of savings respondents had before joining varied greatly, ranging from 200,000 yen (equivalent to 1200 euros at the time of joining), such as Yoko, to 75 million yen

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(equivalent to 595,000 euros at the time of joining), such as Marine. Most commonly, respondents’ savings were around 10 million yen (72,000 euros) at the time of joining. The majority, thus, had significant savings, hinting at a form of financial security. And yet, they all chose to give up this individual financial security, in order to join this community. What rings true for all of these excerpts is that members were willing to give their savings to the community either because it brought them greater security (access to even more money) or because they felt the money was going towards something meaningful and good. It was apparent, that some respondents, even though possessing significant savings, felt insecure financially, for various reasons. These reasons will be discussed in the subsequent section.

Respondents believing that giving their money to the community results in a more meaningful use of their money are highlighted with an example of Marine. Marine, an ex-high school teacher, had the highest savings account when becoming a member. Even with this large sum, Marine states it felt “very natural for [her]” to put the money into the family commons. Marine explains that, her savings, if left in the bank, will someday be “just like paper” and would “lose its value”. This aligns with Carruthers & Babb’s assertion that when “money’s value becomes uncertain,” individuals may look for ways to engage in “radical re-construction” (cited in Maurer (2006: 28). Marine found a way, by adding her savings into an alternative economic system, within KF. In the end, the money Marine put into the communal pot, helped pay for the (very large) house, which houses all communal meals, and around 30 members. Marine felt that giving the money to KF, and buying this house, “gave [her] more relief” because it’s more equal to the value she thought the money had, and is “useful for others”. She worried that, leaving the money in the bank, would deem the money worthless. In this way, Marine suggests that only when being put into (good) use, does money become valuable. And further shows the ontological insecurity Marine felt about the value of her money within the regular economic system. In sum, just as Hiromi, Marine felt that by giving her money to the community it would be put to better use then if left in her savings, or if spent for her own personal gratification.

The second pattern I found was that several respondents viewed giving their money to the community as an increase, instead of a loss, in their financial security. Such as Tomochan, a single mother who had to take care of herself and her son without any help before KF, who had a

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large sum of money in her savings. Joining in 2010, Tomochan had 8 million yen in her savings, which at that time was equivalent to 72,300 euros. She admits that initially she had a “little bit of a war” within herself “to share the money with everyone”. But this feeling, “disappeared very quickly,” because though at first one might feel that “others take your money,” it really means that “you can take everyone’s money! So it’s more!”

A sense of relief and increased ontological security was created either through the belief that the money in their savings gained value by being contributed to an economy that was seen as more ‘natural’ and seen as contributing to society, or due to the feeling as though one has gained financially by having access to more money than prior to joining.

ANXIETY FOR THE FUTURE

As Allison (2013) so aptly puts it, the present is “gripped by insecurity,” and the future generally induces more fear than feelings of possibility in citizens, especially in Japan. These fears can include “global warming, [or] nuclear warfare,” as Allison mentions, or “environmental destruction and war” as Satchan, a KF member states (83-84). Clearly, it isn’t simply financial insecurity that affects individuals’ ontological insecurity. However, I do believe focusing on fears related to financial matters and the future in general is still relevant, as most of my respondents mentioned this aspect. However, I will focus on financial insecurity, not in and of itself, but in regards to how it relates to ontological insecurity.

Let's begin with an example regarding Kochan. Kochan, a 53-year-old father of three children, and married to Kyoko, has been a member since 1999. Kochan grew up in Yokohama, a city near Tokyo, and recalls that as a child, he always painted the sky grey, because that is all he knew. Only later did he realize that they sky was grey because of pollution. He lived a general childhood, in what he describes as a patriarchal family, where his father was the boss. Later, as a university student studying dairy farming, Kochan came upon a music video while watching MTV, “We are the World”, that demonstrated issues in Ethiopia such as poverty. Kochan explains that this video made him realize “what is happening in Africa,” and he decided to do something to alleviate these problems. After a year and a half of volunteer work in Africa,

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however, Kochan realized this would not alleviate the issues people in Africa are dealing with5. In a case of coping with this feeling of not being in control through radical engagement, Kochan decided to start his own organic farm in Japan, believing that improving one of the countries (Japan) which causes problems in third world countries, would result in more lasting and

systematic changes. However, Kochan states that he “worked very hard” on the farm, because he “thought he didn’t have enough money”. Worried, Kochan believed that he “couldn’t work like this for more than ten years” as his “body would break down”. He explains that “living as an organic farmer in Japan was economically and physically very hard,” and though he had very specific intentions and motivations for starting this endeavor, after a while he realized he could not “live his ideal way”. He was simply being “chased by the money,” to keep on surviving. Because of this, Kochan was “always suffering from anxiety for the future”, and also felt “anxious about retirement” and not being able to “earn enough money for it”. Because of this anxiety, and constant need to focus on money, Kochan was “losing the meaning why he became an organic farmer”. His ontological insecurity about the well-being of third-world countries and his own part in creating those issues (by participating in a developed country), was replaced, or perhaps, strengthened by the anxiety he felt financially, and the realization that perhaps he could not successfully engage in any positive contribution.

Moving to KF, Kochan was able to continue farming organically, and because he does not have to focus at all on money, or worry about the future, he has re-found the meaning of being an organic farmer, while gaining ontological security. It’s about the “relationship based on trust,” Kochan explains. “I don’t worry about money […] I have nothing to worry about”. What Kochan has gained that he feels regular society does not provide, is “stability of economy”. The economic system, as well as the communal aspect, of KF, has made being an organic farmer possible for him. As Kochan explains, for “one [nuclear] family” it is very difficult, but with a family that consists of 20 farmers, things become much easier. In a way, Kochan has gained social capital as well as economic capital, and this has in turn enabled him to pursue not only his original dream of being an organic farmer, but broader dreams as well, without the burden of financial anxiety, and ontological security (looked into further, in Chapter 3).

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Another example of concern for the future, is exemplified by Satchan, a 50-year-old divorced mother of two, who left her husband upon learning of KF. She grew up Shimizu, Shizuoka prefecture, a place she describes as being rural, but not as rural as Fujinomiya. Her father, although outgoing and helpful to neighbors, drank often out of stress and would “become violent” to Satchan and her mother. As a teenager, Satchan suffered from “very strong anxiety”. She worried about not “understanding the system of the universe” and “what was going to happen when [she] gets older. She says that she cried at night, asking herself “if the world I live in is a lie, then what is going to happen?” She worried that life was merely an illusion. These incessant existential worries about the universe and reality, is a clear sign of ontological insecurity at an extreme level. She supposes that global environmental, social, and economic issues were the “source of [her] anxiety”. This strongly coincides with Giddens’ (1990) own hypothesis for radical modernity’s affect on ontological security (93). Though these worries diminished slightly as Satchan got older, she still explains that her “base was anxiety”. Thus, even though she was economically stable, Satchan was scared of losing her money, and was obsessed with attaining more money in order to continue saving. Living in KF, Satchan’s anxiety has subsided, and describes the the economic system within KF, as “wonderful”. Having had cancer, she explains that “if I was living outside, my anxiety for the future would be much bigger” because in KF she knows others will take care of her, and the community takes care of her medical bills. I believe KF’s way of dealing with money has aided Satchan’s sense of

security in financial matters, but also helped Satchan gain a greater sense of ontological security, by giving her a greater sense of control over her life and the ‘reality’ of the universe she

previously feared so immensely.

It is clear that some members were so driven by financial anxiety, they resorted to desperate measures to gain some kind of sense of security. Marine has a theory about why, in regular society, people are so anxious and focused on money. As per introduction, Marine is a single 59-year-old woman, born and raised in Osaka with her brother. She explains that, as a child, her parents were constantly fighting. Because of this, Marine decided at a young age that she would never marry, because being married “is troublesome”. Furthermore, not unlike several other member’s parents, Marine’s father was very strict and violent. As a child and teen, Marine

Utopia at the foot of Mt. Fuji : finding ontological security within an intentional community : an investigation into the motivations for joining Konohana Family