一期一会 — This Moment, Only Once
一期一会 is usually translated as "one time, one meeting." But the characters mean something more precise: one life, one encounter. Each gathering, each moment — unrepeatable.
一期一会 is usually translated as "one time, one meeting." But the characters mean something more precise: one life, one encounter. Each gathering, each moment — unrepeatable.
One evening after dinner, my son said something — the kind of thing you say when you are trying to rouse yourself, to keep going. I understood it completely. And...
When our children were small, summer meant the campground — river swimming, 虫取り in the woods, and in the quiet between adventures, lying in the hammock looking up at the...
There is a small grove of trees near where I work. I started walking through it at lunch without much intention. After a while I noticed I was going back...
In the weeks before May 5th, carp appear in the sky above Japan. 鯉のぼり — carp-shaped windsocks billowing in the spring wind, mouths open, tails streaming, looking very much as...
Every April 1st, the city fills with people who do not know what they are doing yet — and are trying anyway. Small children in new uniforms. New employees in...
Utamaro soap has been in Japanese laundry rooms since 1957. A small green bar, unremarkable to look at. It is not fashionable. It simply works.
Japan’s name for the weeks when winter and spring trade places.
桜梅桃李 — Cherry, plum, peach, Japanese plum. They share the same earth and the same sky. But not the same timing. And none of them are late.
A personal reflection on cats in Japan — from Edo woodblock prints to a bowl of neko manma on February 22nd.
武者震い — the warrior's tremble. It's the feeling just before something that matters. Not fear exactly. The body knowing before the mind has fully decided.
無事 is written with the characters for "nothing" and "matter." The day passed without incident. In Japanese, that has a name — and it is understood to be a kind...
A year that appears once every sixty years — and why it still matters today.
Every December, a pair of pine and bamboo arrangements appears at Japanese doorways. A reflection on kadomatsu — and what it means to prepare the threshold before the new year...
I was in elementary school the first time someone told me I was 大器晩成. I felt two things at once: something like pride, and something like unease.