I plan to keep going until I'm 120 years old.

Since the publication of my book "Grandpa and Grandma's Okinawan Rock 'n' Roll" (Poplar Publishing), the chorus group ONE VOICE, with an average age of 70, has been quite busy. They've received offers to sing at PR events for local specialties and movie theaters, planned publication commemorative live shows with bookstores, and been invited as guests to concerts at large shopping centers...

Chorus director Hideki Karimata (49) is in high demand with the media. He appears live on local TV news programs, radio shows, and community FM stations, introducing the chorus group's formation story alongside the grandpas' and grandmas' singing and archival footage.

In his youth, Mr. Karimata was a professional musician who even achieved a major label debut. He's a well-known figure among those in the know in Okinawa. Now, decades later, he finds himself on the receiving end of interviews, rushing around here and there. Not for himself, but for the grandpas and grandmas who are his seniors in life.

"Unlike the desperate feeling I had when I was young, with ONE VOICE, whatever I do, it's just fun!" says Mr. Karimata with a smile. His eyes sparkle, making him look like a boy, truly happy. Influenced by the chorus members, it seems Mr. Karimata is the one reclaiming his youth the most.

Despite the surrounding commotion, the grandpas and grandmas remain unfazed, keeping their own steady pace. Without arrogance or haste, they simply enjoy each moment with childlike curiosity, taking everything happening before them in stride. "Everything is new to us. We're truly grateful for these experiences," they say, never forgetting to express their appreciation to those around them.

With members like these, the group's atmosphere and teamwork only improve day by day. What started as a choir of just three people has now grown into a large group of nearly 40. People who previously didn't know each other at all are gathering, drawn together by singing and dancing, forming a new community.

In a society where seniors living alone continue to increase, it's said that many become isolated, losing contact with relatives and neighbors, often falling into loneliness. We frequently hear the term "lonely death" in the media. To prevent this, isn't building and maintaining a community essential?

In this sense, I feel the chorus group ONE VOICE gives courage to seniors who find it hard to take that first step. It's particularly fascinating to see how some members—grandfathers and grandmothers who migrated from the mainland, known as "naichā" in Okinawa—naturally interact with the "uchinanchu" (Okinawans).

■Singing is impossible, lip-syncing is fine

One of the three founding members, Teruyo Kawanabe (75), recalls the choir's early days: "I'd never sung in front of anyone before, and my voice? Look at it now—it's all raspy. It just wouldn't come out at all." "Singing was impossible. If I just mouthed the words, I wouldn't cause any trouble."

It's hard to imagine this coming from Kawabe-san today, who now serves as lead vocalist for their signature song, "Be Kind to People" (by The Blue Hearts). On stage, she sings with a soft expression and great poise, saying she now finds singing in public exhilarating.

Kawanabe, who moved to Okinawa with her husband at age 61, speaks in a thick Kansai dialect like a typical Osaka auntie, laughing heartily and chatting nonstop. People always gather around her, making her the mood-maker of the chorus group.

However, before joining ONE VOICE, Kawabe-san was often unwell and tended to stay home. It's a bit surprising to hear that going out and interacting with people felt like a chore to her. While she liked singing itself, she never sang herself and had never even been to karaoke.

In fact, Ms. Kawanabe experienced a deeply sad event that left her feeling she couldn't go on. She lost her beloved husband, who had always been her rock and her support. What's more, she was left alone in Okinawa, a place with no relatives or friends, no ties or connections.

After joining the chorus group, even though going out used to be such a hassle, she soon found herself eagerly awaiting the weekly Wednesday practice days. She began singing in front of people, an experience she had never imagined before, and before she knew it, her health was visibly improving.

"I'll be 80 in five years. I feel like my mind will be sharper than now, and all sorts of ideas will start flowing. I plan to keep going until I'm 120." She smiles innocently at her former self, who felt she "couldn't live alone" without her husband and was on the verge of giving up.

She plans to place her husband's ashes in an Okinawan columbarium and eventually be buried in Okinawa herself. Having overcome several hardships, Ms. Kawabe has blended into the Okinawan community. Within her new community, ONE VOICE, she energizes those around her and inspires herself. Even as she approaches 80, she continues to reinvent herself. Her example might just give a push to those who, like the former Ms. Kawabe, find themselves unable to take that first step.

■Create a place for yourself that fits your circumstances

The oldest member of the chorus, Tomoyuki Terado (83), has a wide range of hobbies. He attends local gatherings and club activities daily, laughing, "I'm hardly ever home, am I?" Given his active involvement in the community, you might assume he's from Okinawa, but he's actually from Kushiro, Hokkaido.

He spent his childhood in Setagaya, Tokyo. After graduating from university, he joined a chemical manufacturer as a researcher, working on "surfactant research" until his retirement at age 65. He lived in Yokohama, then Kamakura, meaning he spent most of his life in the Kanto region.

In other words, he had absolutely no connection to Okinawa. At the invitation of his son, who had already moved to Okinawa, Mr. Terado and his wife relocated to Okinawa when he was 65. Naturally, he didn't know a single person there. So, he joined the choir club and the bowling club, actively seeking places to connect with the community.

"All that initial spark and encouragement came from my wife. She pushed me, and I just went along with it." But now, he enjoys these local connections all on his own.

Within ONE VOICE, Mr. Terado isn't the loud, standout type. He's not the center of the circle; he's the one listening with a warm, gentle smile on the periphery. Yet, before you know it, he's slipped into the larger circle. Even without speaking much, his unique aura makes him an indispensable presence, bringing a sense of calm to the gathering.

Trying too hard to fit into a new community—putting on a facade, forcing yourself, or worrying excessively about others—won't last. Finding your place within the community at your own pace. That's how Mr. Terado opened up to those around him, I imagine.

"I've lived here for over a decade, but I still often can't follow what the locals are saying when they chat among themselves," Terado says with a wry smile, completely unfazed. He's a popular figure among the staff supporting the chorus group too.

■Valuing Horizontal Connections Over Vertical Hierarchy

In stark contrast to newcomers like Mr. Kawabe and Mr. Terado, Mr. Maehana Tomokatsu (65) is a pure Okinawan, born and raised here. He lives in an older housing complex and has been its residents' association chairman since he was 41. "Once people move into this complex, there's not much turnover. Once you become chairman, you tend to just keep getting re-elected,"

He says this while having served for an impressive 24 years, deeply rooted in the community. He also teaches as an instructor, asked by local elementary and junior high schools to teach the sanshin (Okinawan three-stringed instrument) in after-school clubs, and teaching folk songs at day services in nursing homes. Furthermore, he volunteers to stand at local crosswalks in the mornings, watching over children on their way to school.

Since joining the chorus group, he's been using this hour of crossing guard duty for singing practice. He puts earphones in his ears and quietly hums something or talks to himself. Seeing Mr. Maehana like this, the children find it amusing and say things like, "Grandpa, you were on TV, weren't you?" while the teachers encourage him with, "Keep up the good work with your practice."

This warm scene likely arises because Mr. Maehana has maintained a presence in the local community, separate from his work, since his active career days. When you work for a company and stay confined to that world, there's a fear that upon retirement, you might find yourself lost. If you only interact with people based on work relationships, when your title or position is taken away, you might suddenly realize you have no friends around you. No standing. Nothing to do...

Within the company community, you belong to a department or section, always surrounded by colleagues and superiors. You can strike up a conversation anytime, or invite someone to lunch on a whim. You're also given a defined position with a set rank or title. If you rise high enough, you can give orders and have others do the work. Conversely, from a lower position, tasks always come your way, and work is always right in front of you.

When someone accustomed to this hierarchical society retires, they often find themselves overwhelmed by the boundless freedom. It's hard to adjust to a world without superiors or subordinates, where everything is flat. Finding a new community in such a situation is incredibly difficult.

Thinking about it this way, I realize I myself am highly likely to end up the same way. Beyond the community of the company, do I have a place where I feel comfortable...? The reality is, I don't possess a community I can confidently say is 'this is it'.

Being involved in building a new community from scratch—a chorus group—and interacting with the senior members who gathered there taught me something. For many participants, the chorus group isn't their only community.

Each member actively participates in other communities alongside ONE VOICE, fully enjoying their second chapter of life. Some join after being invited by members they knew from another community, while others form new communities by inviting friends they met through the chorus.

Some had created places to belong outside of work even before retiring, while others found them after retirement. What they share, however, is that this approach might offer the key to enjoying a second life to those who haven't walked through life relying solely on hierarchical structures and values.

This is by no means limited to seniors. It's an important stance for everyone, regardless of age, to adopt while still working—and indeed, to actively practice. Building flat, horizontal relationships without over-relying on hierarchical structures opens possibilities for both our present and future selves. That's what the grandpas and grandmas of ONE VOICE teach us.