Modern society seems to have a tendency to seek unchanging things such as lasting success, unwavering relationships, universal values, and even the extension and continuation of life.
Looking back to the Heian period (794–1185), people accepted change as a natural part of life and cultivated a sensibility that found beauty in the transience of things. It seems that the Heian aristocrats did not view the impermanence of things like glory, power, love, and life—the fact that even these are not eternal—as something to be pessimistic or saddened by. Rather, they viewed it as an emotion that resonated deeply with nature, cherishing it as an aesthetic sensibility that found beauty in fleeting things like falling cherry blossoms, fading moonlight, and the chirping of autumn insects.
Understanding that things are beautiful precisely because they scatter, and precious precisely because they come to an end, the delicate emotions and sensations felt amidst the ever-changing cycle of nature—the tightness in the chest at the time of falling cherry blossoms or twilight, the wavering hearts and lingering feelings at farewells and endings—were slowly nurtured and matured within the leisurely flow of time, sublimated into empathy, and became the essence of mono no aware (the pathos of things).
Japanese aesthetics such as mono no aware, wabi (侘び), sabi (寂び), and yugen (幽玄) are often discussed collectively, and while they sometimes overlap within Japanese culture, there are subtle differences in their nuances. The deep sentimentality and empathy for transience cultivated by the people of the Heian period through mono no aware can be said to have been quietly passed down as a foundation of Japanese culture to this day.
Wabi (侘び):
This refers to a quiet richness felt in inadequacy, a quiet beauty that accepts what is lacking and imperfection. It encompasses a simple tea room, unadorned tableware, and quiet solitude—not a change, but a state of being, where something is not lacking or not flashy, but rather a sense of finding a calm beauty in it.
Takenō Jōō (武野紹鷗, 1502-1555) sought the ideal of tea in the natural, unadorned form of the tea ceremony, abandoning extravagance and prioritizing the human heart over expensive ornaments and utensils in the tea room. He pioneered this style of tea, known as Wabi-cha, and is said to have expressed its essence through a poem by Fujiwara no Teika (藤原定家, 1162-1241), included in the Shin Kokin Wakashū (新古今和歌集, c. 1205).
見渡せば 花も紅葉も なかりけり 浦の苫屋の 秋の夕暮
miwataseba hanamo momijimo nakarikeri urano tomayano akino yuugure
trans:
Looking around, there are neither flowers nor autumn leaves, in the autumn twilight at the thatched hut by the bay.
Although there are no showy elements such as cherry blossoms or autumn leaves in the surroundings, Teika found beauty in the scene of a simple hut, its roof woven from reeds and straw like a mat, standing alone by the water’s edge of the inlet, enveloped in the autumn twilight.
Sen no Rikyu (千利休, 1522-1591), a disciple of Takenō Jōō, who perfected the wabi-cha style of tea ceremony, used a poem by Fujiwara no Ietaka (藤原家隆, 1158-1237), included in the Shin Kokin Wakashū, to connect the changing seasons and the beauty of autumn evenings with the spirit of the tea ceremony.
花をのみ 待つらん人に 山里の 雪間の草の 春を見せばや
hanawo nomi matsuran hitoni yamazatono yukimano kusano haruwo misebaya
trans:
To those who await only flowers, I wish to show the spring in the grass peeking through the snow in the mountain village.
The beauty of spring is found in the breath of nature, such as the young grass that emerges unnoticed from the snow-covered mountain village landscape, waiting for the right time. The spirit of wabi-cha lies not in the flowers (cherry blossoms) that receive the spotlight, but in the simple breath of nature, like the process of growth or the grass sprouting between the snow.
Sabi (寂び):
This refers to the flavor etched by time, the texture and depth created by the passage of time (accumulation). Rusted iron, the texture of old wood, moss-covered rocks, well-used tools—the passage of time itself creates value; it’s not that things are bad because they’re old, but rather that they become better because they’ve aged. In short, sabi is not simply decline, but a concept that includes the calmness and lingering resonance that time brings.
The concept of sabi is said to have originated with the development of renga (linked verse). During the Muromachi period (1336-1573), when renga poets such as Shinkei (心敬1406-1475) and the monk Sōgi (宗祇, 1421-1502) were popular for their poetic game of relaying verses one by one, they discovered the beauty of lonely scenes such as the moss on old temples and the autumn moon, and expressed it through renga. It is said that this established the aesthetic of renga, where one can feel the taste of time in things that have aged. In the Edo period, it was passed down to haikai (俳諧, the prototype of haiku), established by Matsuo Basho (松尾芭蕉, 1644-1694), and came to be valued as the beauty and taste that can be felt in things that are old and lonely.
Yugen (幽玄):
It is the profound resonance created by the invisible, the inexpressible, and the deep beauty felt in what is not clearly understood. By conveying the unexplained spaces through presence and atmosphere, a strong emotion that cannot be reached by words or logic takes root. It values leaving spaces rather than filling them completely, and the ability to imagine the unseen rather than a complete, detailed description. It is a beauty felt not in a finished form, but in the gaps where imagination enters.
The origin of the term “yugen” (幽玄) is believed to stem from terms like “genmyo” (玄妙, subtle depth) and “yumei” (幽冥, profound and inexplicable) found in Taoism and Laozi-Zhuang thought, which spread among the intellectual class through Chinese poetry and Buddhist scriptures around the Nara period. During the Heian period, it came to be used in waka poetry and garden theory to express subtle sentimentality, and it is said that Zen monks and poets of the Kamakura period deepened it into an aesthetic that emphasized spirituality.
In the Muromachi period, Zeami’s (世阿弥) Noh (能) theory treatise, Fūshikaden (風士花伝), described yūgen as an artistic ideal that evokes infinite depth in the viewer’s mind and is considered the ultimate goal of the art. He emphasized the importance of maintaining a profound sense of lingering emotion throughout the transformation of the art, from youthful blossoming to mature blossoming. This concept spread to various fields such as the tea ceremony, haikai poetry, and shoin-zukuri architecture, and rooted a sense of reverence for invisible beauty at the foundation of Japanese culture. (ref., The Magic Of Suppressing Intolerance)
Mono no aware:
Mono no aware is an aesthetic sensibility systematized by Motoori Norinaga (本居宣長, 1730-1801), a scholar of Japanese classics during the Edo period, through the story of Tama no Ogushi in Murasaki Shikibu’s (紫式部) Tale of Genji ((源氏物語, 794-1185). It emphasizes emotion over logic, the natural fluctuations of feelings, and human passions and compassion, considering it an essential Japanese sentiment linked to Shintoism.
The earliest documented use of the word “mono no aware” is in the Tosa Diary (土佐日記) by Ki no Tsurayuki (紀貫之, 871-946), one of the greatest poets of the mid-Heian period and also known as the compiler of the Kokin Wakashū (古今和歌集). As the local people helped prepare the ship to send the former governor and his entourage off from Tosa to Kyoto, and were reluctant to part ways, the slightly tipsy boatman, irritated by the delays in preparations, urged them to finish the preparations quickly, saying that the tide was coming in and the wind might pick up. To Ki no Tsurayuki, this boatman appeared to be someone who did not understand “mono no aware.”
While mono no aware is sometimes written as 物の哀れ (mono no aware), the word “aware” is said to originate from the phrase “Ah, hare,” uttered when deeply moved by something.
Motoori Norinaga believed that only through deep insight into the world and a connection to human emotions can one understand the heart of things and mono no aware, and that understanding mono no aware is essential to appreciating the essential charm of Japanese literature.
In fact, in Japanese culture, a subtle elegance that does not overtly express emotions is favored. Therefore, in order to touch the deepest chords of the heart, it is essential to be sensitive to subtle changes in things, to be attentive to the atmosphere and the presence of people, to cultivate sensitivity to pick up on every little change in facial expression and gesture, and to learn to behave in harmony with one’s surroundings. This understanding of emotions and the heart may have led to the cultivation of the aesthetic ideal of mono no aware.
In other words, mono no aware is a uniquely Japanese aesthetic that has been nurtured through a fusion of a view of nature, a sense of impermanence, emotionality, and aesthetic tradition (the beauty of negative space). It encompasses a sense of reverence for nature and respect for the cycle of life, emphasizing harmony and coexistence with the sacred in all things—mountains, rivers, forests, rocks, etc.; gratitude towards nature, ancestors, and land where gods reside; and a delicate sensibility that doesn’t overlook the subtle changes in nature and the cycle of seasons. It places importance on the ever-changing, transience-filled process of things never remaining the same.
Murasaki Shikibu delicately portrays the emotional shifts of people through love and power struggles, focusing more on lost love, the passage of time, and misunderstandings than on happiness or success itself. In the impermanence of this world, where things are constantly changing and disappearing, she expresses a paradoxical aesthetic that is poignant and beautiful precisely because things disappear, through emotions that quietly accept things as they are, where sadness and beauty arise simultaneously, and delicate emotions that naturally assimilate with the passage of time.
Furthermore, beyond merely appreciating the changes in nature, they did not simply accept the inevitable transience and end of all life, no matter how sad, as mere despair. Instead, they cherished the time they shared as irreplaceable precisely because it was finite, and entrusted these irreplaceable, once-in-a-lifetime moments, which can never be repeated, to waka poetry and essays, thus aesthetically elevating and sharing or empathizing with mono no aware (the pathos of things).
Nevertheless, understanding “mono no aware” is not about understanding classical aesthetic sensibilities, but rather may be an essential element in restoring intellect and humanity in today’s world where acceleration and efficiency reign supreme as absolute values.
This is because the pressures of an accelerating society lead to a concentrated, unified approach to a single scale, hindering or losing essential human elements such as time for deliberation and space for indecision through multi-layered complexity, inducing feelings of ignorance (Avidyā), alienation, and nihilism, and closing the path to the true nature of things. However, by understanding “mono no aware,” while it may lead to temporary sighs due to the acceptance of contradictions, injustices, and imperfections, it holds the potential to guide us to maintain a quiet yet resilient stance that allows us to recover and preserve our humanity, even as fragile beings.
In any case, even in modern society, beyond mere literary concepts or emotional expressions, mono no aware can be said to be indispensable as a source of sensitivity and richness of heart that inseparably connects joy and sorrow, beauty and transience, fostering the sensitivity and empathy to perceive the essence of things, cultivating an awareness that resonates with harmony and cycles in nature, and inseparably linking joy and sorrow, beauty and transience.
Incidentally, the ninth poem in the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu (小倉百人一首, around the first half of the 13th century) is a waka poem by Ono no Komachi (小野小町), and its source is the Kokin Wakashū (古今和歌集), Spring Poems, Part 2, No. 113.
花の色は 移りにけりな いたづらに 我身世にふる ながめせしまに
Hana no iro wa utsurini kerina itadurani wagami yonifuru nagame seshimani
trans:
The color of the cherry blossoms has changed, in the vain passage of time, while I spent my days in this world, lost in thought, gazing at the rain.
The cherry blossoms, with their short-lived brilliance and the lingering presence of extinction, simultaneously captivate hearts with their ephemeral beauty, and their scattering evokes a sense of impermanence.
While using the passing of cherry blossoms as its outward theme, the poem emotionally intertwines the poet’s lament over the fading beauty of his own appearance. Natural terms like flowers, colors, and rain are not merely descriptions of the scenery, but poetically symbolized as mirrors reflecting life. It encompasses a sense of impermanence—the mercilessness of time, the transience of beauty, the rise and fall of glory, and the transience of life itself—showing a deep resonance with the aesthetic sensibility of “mono no aware,” which intertwines nature and human emotions, reflecting the historical context of the time.
In other words, mono no aware can be described as a concept encompassing empathy for the irreplaceable nature and individual lives, the sharing of transience and sorrow, and a sincere acceptance of the depth of emotion.
Heian period waka poetry does not directly express the emotions of the heart, but rather values beauty that conveys feelings implicitly while being imbued with sentiment. Therefore, the word “mono no aware” (the pathos of things) is not used directly, but rather hinted at and subtly present in the depths of the waka.
かきくらす 心の闇に まどひきて さすがに夢の 覚めがたきかな
kakikurasu kokorono yamini mado hikite sasugani yumeno samegataki kana
Trans:
In the darkness of my heart, bewildered, it is truly difficult to awaken from this dream.
This is a poem from the Yugao (夕顔) chapter of The Tale of Genji. The state of mind of Hikaru Genji, faced with the sudden death of his lover Yugao, is described as “the darkness that overwhelms my heart.” His deep sorrow and acceptance of “mono no aware” are not merely grief, but rather presented as confusion and melancholy that transcends mere verbal expression.
いとけなき 心にも なほうつくしき 花の姿を 見るぞかなしき
itokenaki kokoronimo nahoutsukushiki hananosugatawo miruzo kanashiki
Trans:
Even to a heart as innocent as hers, the sight of this flower is still beautiful, and it brings me sorrow.
This is another poem from the Young Murasaki (若紫) chapter of The Tale of Genji, showing Hikaru Genji’s deep affection for Young Murasaki. The juxtaposition of “beauty” (adorable) and “sorrowful” (tenderness) emotions, presented without clear boundaries and blended together, transcends the surface of the words, evoking the essence of “mono no aware”—the unconscious emotions, transience, and impermanence of life.
In any case, in Heian period waka poetry, the effective use of visual phenomena and emotional symbolism contained within certain words and phrases elegantly expressed delicate sensibilities and subtle emotional shifts regarding the transience of love and life, as well as deep feelings about the finitude of existence itself, lingering thoughts, seasonal sensibilities and empathy and emotion for nature, and a sense of impermanence, reflecting the values and ideas of society at the time as a cultural expression.
Incidentally, while the spiritual purification brought about by the appreciation of tragedy, as Aristotle (384 BC – 322 BC) described in his poetics, may also be induced by understanding mono no aware, when viewed through the tragedies of Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900), although tragedy deals with the transience and conflict inherent in finitude, it seems to fundamentally differ in perspective from the sensibility of “mono no aware,” which finds profound beauty in transience and impermanence itself.
For Nietzsche, tragedy is the affirmation of life despite knowing that it is fundamentally full of suffering and contradictions. It is understood as the opposition or integration of Apollonian (order, individuality, image) and Dionysian (ecstasy, vitality, disintegration of the individual) forces, and although it depicts death, pain, fate, and ruin, it is art that leads to the affirmation of life, that living is wonderful. (ref., Purification During Seasonal Transitions For Well-Being)
On the other hand, “mono no aware” (the pathos of things) is not sentimentality, nor can it be fully expressed by the single word “sentimentality.” Even in the real world where good and evil, beauty and ugliness are intertwined, it transcends personal likes and dislikes and selfish calculations, and can be described as a selfless capacity for acceptance that accepts things as they are. Moreover, this selfless capacity for acceptance likely contains the following responses that well up from the depths of the heart as creative intelligence:
* The passage of time: Receptiveness and sensitivity that quietly embraces the ceaseless flow of change in all existence.
* Limits and harmony: Tolerance and harmony that gently accept the weight of nature.
* Irreversibility: Acceptance of the fragility and impermanence that all relationships and existences are inherently fragile and will one day be lost.
* Respect: Recognition and reverence for the sacred realm that is unattainable.
To understand “mono no aware” is not merely a sentimental sigh like “Oh my!”, but rather a fundamental wisdom that leads to ethical thinking and action by accepting things as they are, their impermanence, their complexity, and their imperfections, and encourages loving, harmonious coexistence with nature.
In any case, if a faint sense of transience, impermanence, or the depths of the heart is evoked when cherry blossoms fall, at dusk, or in the twilight of life, it is perhaps a moment when the mono no aware cultivated by the people of the Heian period has been passed down and continues to live quietly, and the same feelings from a thousand years ago are revived.
In fact, when facing turning points or changes in life, turning our attention to the magnificent cycle of life that nature speaks of—the changing seasons, the life cycles of plants—may lead to the feeling that the end does not necessarily mean extinction, but rather a new beginning.
Incidentally, according to William Bridges’ (1933-2013) transition theory, while the changes encountered in life are changes in circumstances, transitions refer to changes in psychological, internal direction and meaning, progressing in the order of end → neutrality → beginning, and starting with letting go of what one has believed and assumed, one’s past way of being, self-image, worldview, and way of interacting with others.
* Ending (when something ends):
At the point when something ends, psychological pain such as loss of identity or direction, confusion, and emptiness may occur, but this is a process of accepting that something from the past has ended. This stage is the starting point of a turning point and can be said to be the time to begin preparing for new changes.
1. Recognition and Acceptance of Loss:
This period is a process of recognizing and accepting the end of something in the past, acknowledging the sense of loss and processing emotions.
2. Breaking Free from the Past:
This involves breaking free from past habits, relationships, and ways of thinking, and preparing oneself psychologically for a new beginning.
3. Learning and Reflection:
This provides an opportunity to learn from and reflect on past experiences, utilizing lessons learned from failures and successes to aid in a new start.
4. Gaining a New Perspective:
By gaining new perspectives and ways of thinking, one breaks free from past fixed ideas and cultivates more flexible thinking.
5. Psychological Release:
By being released from past burdens and responsibilities, mental stress is reduced, and energy is gained to take a new step forward.
* Neutral Zone:
Between the end and the beginning, this is a void, ambiguity, and instability that doesn’t belong to either the old or new state. Psychologically, it may feel like you’re standing still, but it’s a period to confront feelings of loss and emptiness, to re-evaluate and reconstruct yourself, and to connect these experiences as keys to moving forward to the next beginning.
1. Emotional Processing and Healing:
This is a time to process feelings of loss and anxiety associated with the end of the past, reducing emotional burden.
2. Gaining New Perspectives:
Learn from past experiences and consider new possibilities to gain new perspectives and ideas.
3. Self-Rediscovery:
Reconsider oneself and re-examine values and goals to discover a more authentic path.
4. Preparation and Planning:
Develop concrete steps and strategies, and proceed with preparations and plans for a new beginning, leading to reduced anxiety and increased confidence.
5. Improved Flexibility and Adaptability:
Break free from preconceived notions, cultivate the ability to respond flexibly to new situations, and improve adaptability to changing environments.
* New Beginning (When something begins):
This is not about a new event occurring, but rather the final stage of a process that begins after the ending and neutral stages. It’s a time when the mind becomes accustomed to a fresh self and environment, generating motivation and hope for a fresh start, leading to the resumption of action and the establishment of new values.
1. Exploring New Possibilities:
Challenge new possibilities and unknown areas, aiming for new growth.
2. Improved Confidence and Motivation:
Taking a new step increases confidence, improves motivation, increases the desire to challenge, and opens the path to success.
3. Learning and Growth:
Acquire skills and knowledge through new learning, experiences, and growth opportunities.
4. Rebuilding Relationships:
Opportunities arise to build new encounters and relationships, or to rebuild existing relationships.
5. Increased sense of self-actualization:
By connecting with a life that aligns with one’s personal goals and values, a sense of self-actualization increases, and satisfaction is gained.
By embracing the end without fear and adopting a positive outlook, connecting an understanding of its psychological significance to personal growth, enhancing mental resilience, transforming failures and setbacks into new opportunities through reframing, fostering mental space by utilizing neutral periods, and creating action plans for the future—practicing an approach that transforms the end into a beginning may lead to a more fulfilling life.
Mono no aware is not mere sadness, but a gentle emotional response to the fact that we know things will eventually disappear, making them all the more precious. It is a sensibility that accepts transience and lives in harmony with nature, based on a sense of impermanence, and an aesthetic that recognizes the irreplaceable and precious nature of each moment precisely because it is fleeting.
Mono no aware seems to softly speak to us about the irreplaceable nature of that day, that time, that fleeting moment.
Sincerely grateful for your financial support.
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