Hanami season in Japan begins in spring, but each part of the country has a different blooming period. — Photos: LEESAN
On the surface, the Japanese philosophy of mono no aware – or the pathos of things – might sound a little melancholic.
In reality, it is a unique Japanese concept or belief: to be more aware and sensitive of life and how it isn’t a permanent one. However, it is also not a complete surrender to fate, but an elegant and subtle sentiment sandwiched between compassion and regret.
Simply put, it defines the appreciation for something that’s lost in between all the rapid changes. Such emotion happens not only from a major event, but often also lurks inside the smallest details in life.
I think Sakura (cherry blossoms) is perhaps the best embodiment of mono no aware.
For me, the beauty of cherry blossoms lies in their momentary existence. The flowers that typically last only a couple of days are dreamy, their petals fluttering in the breeze like pink snowflakes, carpeting the floor and transporting one into a surreal poetic realm.
Nevertheless, most of us are well aware that all that beauty will come to a close soon enough. This instantaneous beauty is veritably the essence of mono no aware. Because it is short-lived, it is all the more precious and must be appreciated.
Tourists on a boat ride at Omi Hachiman, where boatmen will tell stories of the Somei Yoshino trees, a cherry blossom variety.
And since it will “vanish” in no time, we tend to treasure its transient existence.
As such, hanami or sakura viewing in Japan is more than just the act of looking at the flowers – it is sort of a ritual, too. In fact, for some hanami is a sacred ritual. Whether you are chasing the cherry blossoms or merely appreciating their beauty, the action is a cultural legacy that has been passed down for centuries, and is a response to the passing of life, nature, and time.
Mono no aware is different from wabi sabi – another Japanese concept – that we are probably more familiar with. Wabi sabi underscores the beauty of simplicity, exclusivity and imperfection, while mono no aware accentuates the more subtle spiritual reverberations. It is unlike the Western-style “tragic beauty” that typifies dramatic twists of events; it is a more composed sentiment, just like the flower petals that fall off the tree at the onset of a breeze.
In Japanese aesthetics, be it tea art, flower arrangement, or garden design, such “impermanent beauty” can be felt all the time.
The shorter and quieter the momentary existence, the more heart-touching it will be.
Mono no aware has existed way before classical Japanese literature, too. Today, its presence can be felt across every aspect of Japanese society, including in the animation of filmmaker Hayao Miyazaki. From the fluttering of flower petals in spring to the frantic movements of busy urban folks ... all these are classic representations of mono no aware.
Every time I take a group of travel buddies to Japan, I will always take them to a Muji store. Like many Japanese brands, Muji’s aesthetics are simple, featuring a more neutral colour scheme that nevertheless exudes the feeling of warmth. Its no-frills design philosophy is an embodiment of the company’s deep observation of the people’s day-to-day life, as well as its quiet acceptance of the unpredictability of our planet.
Most of the time, anyone who steps into the shop will feel compelled to buy something. Even the smallest items on display will make you feel something.
I remember that once, my travel buddies and I were shopping for seasonal wagashi (local confectionery) in a department store. The short poems on the packaging illustrated the beauty of spring and cherry blossoms. There was one by renowned Japanese poet Matsuo Basho that said something like this: “All the memories are coming back to me when the cherry tree blooms.”
I guess this is the power of mono no aware. Cherry blossoms last no more than seven days, and the seasonal wagashi will also be on sale for just a single flowering season. All this is not meant to stay permanently but for a just that short period of time, to give us that instantaneous excitement.
My favourite pink-coloured azuki bean mochi is wrapped in a cherry leaf. It tastes sweet and is flavourful, just like any other mochi.
However, how it makes me feel each time I eat it is indescribable. Instead, I am reminded of a short poem by Ozaki Hosai that goes something like this: “Standing under the flowers, I’m gazing at the cherry blossoms in full bloom.”
Chasing cherry blossoms in Japan is very popular among travellers.
Today, travelling is not just about taking nice pictures at popular sightseeing spots, but to enjoy such moments of mono no aware.
During our sakura-chasing trip this year, we enjoyed the beauty of cherry blossoms in full glory, chatted away the hours, and strolled along the streets quietly.
It appeared to me that time was slowing down for us. We were not rushed, nor did we feel rushed.
All that we experienced were the gentle breezes, flowers, shadows, and ourselves.
In short, this trip was not meant for us to run through all the must-see attractions in a short time, but to enjoy the slowness of life and that faint mono no aware feel.
I wrote this article when we were in Japan, when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. One day, my travel buddies and I were walking slowly on the pebble stone trail at Minobusan Kuon-ji temple, towards the main hall of Okuno-in.
The round pebbles under our feet have witnessed the movements of people for over a thousand years. In front of us were several pink weeping cherry trees that are over 400 years old, quietly blooming in the mountain breeze. The shadows of the tree branches were gently swaying. It was beautiful and rather sad at the same time. It felt like a a premonition of prosperity and decline, a gentle farewell hidden in short-lived splendour.
The views expressed here are entirely the writer’s own.
Leesan, the globe-trotting traveller who has visited 147 countries and seven continents, enjoys sharing his travel stories and insights. He has also authored six books.
