You Don’t Need to Be a Chosen One: What Josuke Higashikata Teaches Us About Quiet Strength

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The world wants to tell you that you’re not doing enough. That if you’re not thriving in the chaos—making money, gaining followers, leaving a legacy—you’re somehow falling behind. And if you’re not chasing that dream every second of every day, then… what are you even doing? That’s the imaginary pressure we all feel. The pressure to be more, to achieve more, to matter more. But what if the answer isn’t in becoming louder or bigger, but in becoming more yourself?

You’re not some flashy shonen protagonist destined to save the universe. But that doesn’t mean you don’t matter. In fact, the world might need you more than it needs another “chosen one.” And no story captures that truth better than JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Diamond is Unbreakable.

Josuke Higashikata is descended from a legendary bloodline. He could have had a globe-trotting adventure, battled gods, saved the universe. But instead… he stays home. His entire story unfolds in his quiet hometown of Morioh. And that’s exactly what makes him powerful.

Josuke shows us that being a hero doesn’t require a battlefield. You don’t need to cross the world to make a difference. Sometimes, it’s enough to show up for the people on your block. To be kind. To protect. To heal. He doesn’t fight for glory—he fights for peace. And in a world obsessed with chaos, hustle, clout, and domination, that makes him radical.

He reminds us of Albert Camus’s “absurd hero”—someone who chooses meaning even when the world offers none. Someone who rebels by being authentic. That’s Josuke. From the moment we meet him, he’s present. He helps a bullied turtle, even though reptiles freak him out. He spares a murderer—not out of mercy, but with creative justice. He vows to protect his town, just like his late grandfather did. He heals Okuyasu—even after they fought. None of these acts are grand, but they are transformative. His kindness inspires others. People grow just by being around him.

These moments come from someone grounded in the present. Someone who isn’t chasing mythical status but living truthfully, day by day. Lao Tzu once said: “When you realize nothing is lacking, the whole world belongs to you.” Josuke doesn’t want glory—even though he’s got the bloodline for it. He doesn’t want revenge. He wants restoration.

Even the one thing he takes personally—his hair—isn’t about vanity. It’s about memory, emotion, and meaning. And that’s what makes his Stand, Crazy Diamond, so poetic. It can heal others—but never itself. Just like Josuke. He brings wholeness to the world while quietly carrying his own pain: the pain of his absent father, the wound behind his attachment to his hair, his worry for his mother and his friends. He carries those things quietly, without letting them harden him. Because, like Crazy Diamond, he is compassion in motion—violent when necessary, but always in service of peace. His strength doesn’t dominate. His strength mends.

That’s why Diamond is Unbreakable often feels more like a slice-of-life story than a typical action anime. Why there’s an episode where Josuke and Okuyasu meet an alien and try to hustle for cash. It may seem like filler, but it isn’t. It’s showing the beauty of the ordinary and the power it holds. Samurai master Miyamoto Musashi once said, “Respect the ordinary.” Doing small things well is the essence of mastery. A walk with a friend can be just as meaningful as defeating a powerful enemy.

And if you want that kind of power? It’s already inside you. Josuke teaches us that you don’t need a grand destiny to live a meaningful life. Protect your street. Your neighbor. Your family. That’s enough. That’s legendary.

But it’s not just Josuke’s actions—it’s who he is. Unlike the Joestars before him—stoic, armored in toughness—Josuke is soft. He laughs. He cries. He listens. He feels. He channels those feelings into his Stand, into his actions, into his being. And that… is power. Araki’s shift in art style reflects this. Josuke isn’t bulky like Jotaro. He’s slimmer, more expressive, more human. He challenges traditional masculinity not through rebellion, but through presence. He redefines what strength looks like.

As young men, we’re told to be stoic. To be tough. Never show emotion. Never shed a tear. Meet the world with clenched fists. But Josuke shows us something different: courage through compassion. Strength through softness. And when he finally faces Kira, he doesn’t do it alone, or in some dramatic final battle surrounded by prophecy. He does it in his neighborhood. With his friends. In the town he’s sworn to protect.

He’s not a legend because of his legacy. Most people around him don’t even know his lineage—and he doesn’t care. He could let the sins of his father define him, but instead, he chooses healing. Even with his own dad. That’s real strength. That’s integration. That’s transcendence.

We all feel pressure. Family, society, the internet—even ourselves. You want a real example? Here I am. People have laughed at the toys and board games lining my walls. Many told me I should give up on my dreams when I became a father. I’ve looked in the mirror and asked, “Am I good enough?” But that’s not my story. And it’s not yours either. Because those things—the toys, the videos, the dreams—they push me forward. They bring me joy. And that voice in your head saying, “you’re not enough”? That’s not you. That’s just noise.

And when you push through that noise—when you choose you—you become like Josuke. The main character in your own anime. Not perfect. Not flashy. But real. And that’s enough.

But here’s the truth: living like Josuke isn’t easy. There’s no final boss. No climax. No peak. It’s daily. Quiet. Spiritual. There’s an old Zen proverb: “Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.” In other words: purpose is above passion. And the most heroic thing you can do is show up. Every single day.

Josuke doesn’t train for revenge. He doesn’t fight because he has to. He chooses to help—again and again—in small ways. That’s the hardest thing anyone can do. That’s real work. That’s real power.

Which is why Kira is the perfect villain. Kira wants a peaceful life too—but without connection, without emotion. He seeks order through destruction. Control through violence. A world with no vulnerability. Josuke is the opposite. He opens up. He connects. He heals. He accepts that life is messy. And he shows us that’s okay.

So if you’ve ever felt like your story wasn’t big enough… hat your dreams weren’t grand enough… that you weren’t enough—remember this:

You are already the hero of your own anime. You don’t need a prophecy. You don’t need followers. You don’t need a grand ending. Just protect your street. Heal what you can. Be yourself. Because Diamond isn’t the only thing that’s unbreakable. So are you.