PART I 

EIGHT MILLION GODS                                                                          

Some claim 8 million kami exist in Japan. Seven of these Shinto gods are believed to be responsible for the creation of a single grain of rice and one, supposedly, hides in every daikon pulled from the ground. In reality nobody is able to count them because they are formless and invisible. Kami are many and one. They tend to be nameless and most often lack physical attributes. Rather than thinking of their gods as singular entities, the Japanese usually refer to them collectively as kami gama - part of something much bigger that is not well specified nor defined. 


Kami are deeply entwined in nature. They perch near streams and waterfalls, they fly above impenetrable forests, lurk amid rice paddies.  People can’t see them, yet they feel close to them. They can sense their presence and it fills them with trepidation.

In ancient times, whatever seemed strikingly impressive or possessed the quality of excellence was thought to be inhabited by a kami.  Such objects – a solitary rock, a gnarled tree, a roaring waterfall – would be venerated. To mark them as sacred, people would encircle them with a rope (shimenawa) and mark with white zig-zag signs (shide). Those zig-zag signs also had purifying qualities – they could ward off evil spirits.





PART II  

LAND: MOUNTAINS AND SEAS   

The shore is rugged: cliffs battered by storms, fissured bays, occasional pine tree – withered, gnarled, solitary. According to ancient beliefs, the archipelago was created by gods, who stirred ocean waters with their spears. Droplets turned into islands, almost effortlessly. The story conjures dream-like images of soft, ethereal land enveloped in mist. But in reality, the terrain appears hard and harsh, as if it were painstakingly chiseled (hammered/carved?) into existence.   There are hardly any plains. Craggy, volcanic peaks soar into the sky.  

Millions of years ago, the islands were lifted from the seas by massive volcanic eruptions. Looking at the land today, one can almost sense their destructive force –bursts of sizzling lava, oozing fissures.  Japanese archipelago is one of the world’s most volatile tectonic regions.  In a country besieged by natural disasters – earthquakes, volcanoes, typhoons, and tsunamis – the threat of a catastrophe is always present.  In a split second, dwellings can be obliterated, crops destroyed, lives lost. Any form of existence is fragile and precarious. 

And yet, the Japanese approach nature with deep fondness and affection. Centuries of experience with disasters imbued them with deep respect towards its forces. It taught them to approach nature with grace and humility. Unable to overpower nature, inhabitants of the volatile archipelago strive to embrace its rhythms. Rather than trying to overpower (subjugate) nature, they strive to live in harmony with it. Patient and resourceful, they gently manipulate their surroundings but are ready to accept their limitations in doing so.

Most of the islands is occupied by mountains, covered by dense, often incassesible, forests.

MOUNTAINS AND SEAS

Since ancient times, the mountains and seas have been revered as gods. People have prayed to them believing they are the source of spiritual and life-sustaining force.

The Japanese have a deeply emotional and spiritual connection with their mountains. Majestic peaks soaring into the sky inspire love, admiration but also fear and respect. Densely forested slopes, often inaccessible, are believed to be abodes of gods. Reaching into heavens, mountains are perceived to be a bridge that connects the earth with the divine realm. It is also where souls go after death. From above, gods and ancestral spirits preside over strams, rivers, and waterfalls Pure water that flows down into the valleys and that sustains farms and villages is considered a sacred gift and a blessing.

 

PART III SATOYAMA










PART IV

GIFTS OF THE GODS

RICE/ FISH/ SHOJIN RYORI - FOOD IN GENERAL

(food: reverence - care- gratitude- respect - attention to detail)




Rice is the country’s staple and the foundation of its economy but is also treated as the most sacred of gifts. Seven gods are believed to hide in each grain of rice: gods of sun, clouds, soil and water provide nutrients; wind pollinates the stalks, while insects eliminate pests and disease. Farmers who collaborate with nature and engage in the sacred act of planting, harvesting, cultivating soil or irrigating fields, are also considered gods. 




SEA AND SEAFOOD

It is estimated that some 2,000 types of fish (approximately 10 percent of the world’s known saltwater species) live in the country’s coastal waters. From giant sharks and tuna, which can traverse oceans at the speed of 80 km/ h, through crab, squid, urchins, sea slugs or cod sperm, an average Japanese consumes some 27 kg of seafood per year. And not just sea animals: kelp, kombu, seaweed and an endless array of other sea vegetables, rich in proteins and minerals, are also consumed in great quantities.

Imbued with special significance in Japan, fish – together with rice and sake – is often included in offerings to gods at Shinto shrines. Serving as a powerful symbol, it reminds people of their dependence upon the ocean.







PART V GARDEN

(LIVING ARTS/ IKEBANA/ BONSAI) - NATURE AS ART - INTERACTING WITH NATURE TO CREATE ART

Shinto and Buddhism are based on feelings and intuitions rather than well-articulated beliefs or principles. They distrust words and shun direct expression. Instead – to get closer to their gods and spirits -- they create, maintain, and contemplate gardens.

Resorting to symbols and metaphors, garden designers – monks, philosophers, poets, painters – present a condensed version of nature. In doing so, they fuse the awe and respect for the powerful forces of nature with the need to control it. 

Despite a great variety of styles and features, all Japanese gardens share some important qualities in common. One of them is the presence of islands — either literal or abstract — which allude to Buddhist notions of paradise and which underscore the idea that a garden itself constitutes a form of paradise. It has been carefully designed to transport visitors to a sacred realm.

Rather than copying nature, gardeners try to present their interpretation of it. They resort to symbols, allegories and metaphors. Their works of art – abstract three-dimensional compositions that resemble ink-paintings sketched with the fewest possible brush-strokes – always leave room for imagination. Viewers have to infuse them with their own interpretations.  They are asked to complete the picture by engaging both their feelings and the intellect. In doing so, they can connect with the spiritual realm – shizen.

 

GARDEN CARE

is perceived as a spiritual endavor.  

Patience and focused attention with which gardeners (monk) rake, brush, sweep, clean and weed their gardens is a spiritual practice and a form of meditation – it allows them to embrace change, ephemerality, and imperfection.





PART V

TRANSIENCE: 72 SEASONS

Both Shinto (transient and nomadic gods who come and go) and Buddhism (perceiving time as an endless cycle, with no end and no beginning) make people attuned to the passage of time. They teach them to accept and embrace change and ephemerality.  They appreciate and find beauty in impermanence.

People are very sensitive and atuned to changing seasons (There are 72 different seasons in the acient Japanese (Chinese) calendar — each lasts about 3-5 days!). People celebrate every single one of them . It’s reflected in how they dress, how they eat, decorate their homes, etc. Haiku, hanami and Momiji, etc.

Mono no aware – (cherry blossoms): ability to find beauty in impermanence, sadness. Appreciation of each moment (it will pass), and acceptance (something else will replace it).

Seasons come and return. Perpetual cycle of birth, death and re-birth.

Gardens celebrate both transience and emphemerality, but at the same time allude to eternity. Different layers of time and change are present in the garden.

It is also a central theme in ikebana (transience) and in bonsai (making something last, that is continued by many generations).