Archive for the ‘Musings’ Category

Satoyama, the Sacred Feminine, and the Wabi-Sabi Aesthetic

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Wabi-sabi – “a Japanese aesthetic of things imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete” – is, in my view, deeply related to satoyama culture’s rustic, practical sensibilities and seamless integration of the inner life with the built and natural worlds. It is also, I suggest, intrinsically related to the characteristically elusive – and profoundly marginalized – qualities of the sacred feminine. While the former gives it accessibility and value as an aesthetic lens, it is the latter relationship that offers modernity a corrective to its myriad ills of systemic imbalance.

I was first exposed as a child to the elegance of the Japanese aesthetic through woodblock prints and other art in my family home, and while I always found it mysteriously compelling, in these last twenty plus years of annual visits and stays in Japan I’ve found myself deeply – often achingly – drawn toward the simplicity, subtlety, and nuance represented in so many traditional Japanese crafts, artistry, and design. What was it that I found so attractive? What was evoked in me that I longed so desperately to bring to consciousness and integrate into my very being? Each encounter felt like a kind of remembrance, a tantalizing hint of wholeness, the promise of a recovery of something lost. Or at least a pointer toward it.

My appreciation of the wabi-sabi aesthetic goes beyond intentional creations of artwork and tools and structures to become a broader way of seeing and appreciating and embracing the vicissitudes of our give-and-take with the manifest world. The entirety of being and non-being, doing and non-doing, light and dark, including all shades and shadows in between. It is said that oneness leaves nothing behind, and while wabi-sabi modestly honors and understatedly celebrates this truth, it is up to the observer/witness to discern it, or not.

It is a new insight to me that qualities of the sacred feminine – celebrated in many forms throughout Japanese history and culture, including by the “ama” free divers described in a previous blog post – are directly and indirectly expressed in wabi-sabi’s inherent elusiveness and could arguably be said to define its deepest value and contribution as a lens through which an alternative may be perceived to modernity’s profoundly off-balanced ideals of ordered, masculine, transcendent perfection and endless technological progress and growth, the farther and more separate from nature the better.

Indeed, the beauty of the wabi-sabi aesthetic entirely depends upon those aspects of wholeness that our Western sensibilities have all but completely discarded. The sacred feminine – the unseen, intangible, qualitative, non-linear, non-rational…the dark, wet, messy, earthy, and imminent – is literally nothing if not relational, intimate, local, resilient, and regenerative. And the wabi-sabi aesthetic points toward the sacred feminine’s ineffable nature without revealing it directly, because it cannot. “The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao.” Nevertheless, just as the emptiness between the spokes of a wheel simultaneously define its shape and provide its utility, the sacred feminine gives the wabi-sabi aesthetic its value as both a lens on the crucial edges of the manifest world and a powerful medicine for a more harmonious way of Being in relationship with Nature and each other.

If the above is true, then perhaps the rough dialectical contours of a deeply healing Nature-integrated paradigm – at once ancient and urgently contemporary – are thus revealed: Satoyama culture can be seen as a lived expression of timeless sacred feminine values, and its distinguishing qualities can be perceived and appreciated through the pattern language lens of the wabi-sabi aesthetic.

In the following article, originally published on Global Oneness Project’s webzine, California-based author Leonard Koren writes with characteristic eloquence about the history and many facets of wabi-sabi. Years ago Koren literally “wrote the book” on wabi-sabi, and when I first met him a few years ago (when I worked at Global Oneness Project) and subsequently read his book I was tickled to find an English speaker who so clearly “got” (and beautifully described) so many of the qualities I have found magnetically compelling for so long. I am grateful to Global Oneness Project to be able to share his writings here.

The Beauty of Wabi-Sabi

By Leonard Koren

 In 1992, while living in Japan, I embarked on a project to locate and define the kind of beauty that I felt most deeply attracted to. By “beauty” I meant that complex of exciting, pleasurable sensations ostensibly emanating from things—objects, environments, and even ideas—that makes us feel more alive and connected to the world; that urgent feeling we equate with “the good,” “the right,” and “the true.”

Instinctively I was drawn to the beauty of things coarse and unrefined; things rich in raw texture and rough tactility. Often these things are reactive to the effects of weathering and human treatment. I loved the tentative, delicate traces left by the sun, the wind, the heat, and the cold. I was fascinated by the language of rust, tarnish, warping, cracking, shrinkage, scarring, peeling, and other forms of attrition visibly recorded.

Chromatically, I was enamored of objects and environments whose once-bright colors had faded into muddy tones, or into the smoky hues of dawn and dusk. I was particularly taken by the non-color colors, gray and black. When closely observed, there is an infinite spectrum of blue-grays, brown-grays, red-grays, yellow-grays. . . And green-blacks, orange-blacks, violet-blacks, purple-blacks. . . .

I was also aroused by the beauty of things odd, misshapen, and/or slightly awkward; what conventional thinking might consider “not in good taste” or “ugly”. I was aroused by understated, unstudied, unassuming objects that possessed a quiet authority. I gravitated toward things that reduced the emotional distance between them and I; things that beckoned me to get closer, to touch, to relate with.

And lastly, I was attracted to the beauty of things simple, but not ostentatiously austere. Things clean and unencumbered, but not sterilized. Materiality, pared down to essence, with the poetry intact.

Having identified what this beauty looked and felt like, I wanted to understand it better intellectually. With pencil and paper I diagrammed the contours of a plausible aesthetic universe. Provisionally, I encapsulated my new domain in the phrase, “a beauty of things imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete.”

Over the next year and a half, in libraries both in Japan and the United States, I pored over volumes on any subjects I thought related. Ultimately I condensed a mountain of vague, amorphous, and sometimes contradictory information into a paradigm. The skeletal foundations of this paradigm came from an old diary I kept when, as a young man, I had studied the Japanese tea ceremony.1 Subsequently I packaged this paradigm as a book which I titled Wabi-Sabi: for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers.

In this book, for the sake of rhetorical clarity, I broke wabi-sabi down into roughly two components, which I would characterize now as “form” and “spirit.”

By “form” I mean the material manifestations; how things wabi-sabi look, feel, sound, etc.

By “spirit” I mean the philosophical basis; the underlying ideas that arguably give rise to wabi-sabi’s form.

In truth, identifying wabi-sabi’s idea substratum—it’s spirit—was an imaginative exercise in induction and inference. Nevertheless, I felt the notions I finally came up with were useful and true. For example:

* On a metaphysical level, wabi-sabi is a beauty at the edge of nothingness. That is, a beauty that occurs as things devolve into, or evolve out of, nothingness. Consequently, things wabi-sabi are subtle and nuanced.

* The beauty of wabi-sabi is an “event,” a turn of mind, not an intrinsic property of things. In other words, the beauty of wabi-sabi “happens,” it does not reside in objects and/or environments. By analogy, if you fall in love with someone or something—say a physically unattractive person, place, or thing—thereafter you will perceive this someone or something as beautiful (at least some of the time), even if the rest of the world doesn’t.

* Wabi-sabi has a compelling pedagogic dimension. Because things wabi-sabi reveal “honest” natural processes such as aging, blemishing, deterioration, etc., they graphically mirror our own mortal journeys through existence. Accordingly, interacting with wabi-sabi objects and environments surely inclines us towards a more graceful acceptance of our existential fate.

* Wabi-sabi is, at root, an aestheticization of poverty—albeit an elegantly rendered poverty. As such, wabi-sabi is a democratic beauty available equally to rich and poor alike.

* Wabi-sabi is the antithesis of the Classical Western idea of beauty as something perfect, enduring, and/or monumental. In other words, wabi-sabi is the exact opposite of what slick, seamless, massively marketed objects, like the latest handheld wireless digital devices, aesthetically represent.

This last point proved especially resonant for many readers of my book. Perfection is one of our culture’s preeminent values. Indeed, we often tacitly define beauty as perfection objectified. But somewhere buried in our psyches is the realization that being human fundamentally implies being imperfect. So when someone suggests that imperfection may be just as beautiful—just as valuable—as perfection, it is a welcome acknowledgement.

There is just one minor problem with all that I have related thus far. Although “wabi-sabi” appears to be a Japanese term, if you look “wabi-sabi” up in a Japanese dictionary, you won’t find it.

“Wabi” and “sabi” have long existed in Japanese culture, but as separate terms. “Sabi” is ancient. It is found in the first Japanese poetry anthology compiled in the 8th century. At the time, “sabi” meant “to be desolate.”

By the 12th century, “sabi” had become an important ideal and critical term of Japanese poetry. “Sabi” then meant “taking pleasure in that which is old, faded, and lonely”. It also referred to “a beauty of things withered.”

Almost four hundred years later, in the late 15th century, “wabi” emerges as a term to describe a new aesthetic sensibility just beginning to be used in the tea ceremony. For the next one hundred years “wabi” is very fashionable.

During this one-hundred-year period, the meaning of “wabi” expands; “wabi” even subsumes all the meanings of “sabi”. In fact, the seminal moment of “wabi” tea is the use of sabi-like terms to describe the new “wabi” objects and environments.

Then from the mid-1600s on, “wabi” ceases to be fashionable. . . .

By the mid-20th century some scholars use the term “wabi,” while others use “sabi,” to describe essentially the same thing. Some scholars use both terms interchangeably. I’ve never found a satisfactory explanation other than that, for various historical reasons, the Japanese have always been comfortable with semantic ambiguity and vagueness.

Today, if you ask an educated Japanese person if they know what “wabi-sabi” means, they will invariably answer “yes”. If, however, you ask them to define “wabi-sabi,” they will probably be unable to do so.

In spite of wabi-sabi’s enormous conceptual breadth—its rangy embrace of disparate ideas and material manifestations—”wabi-sabi” nevertheless seems to fill legitimate artistic, spiritual, and philosophical needs. To date, more than a dozen other authors have written books that borrow major elements of my paradigm and married them with the term “wabi-sabi.”

So even if “wabi-sabi” didn’t “officially” exist before, it exists now.

Twenty-plus years have elapsed since my initial wabi-sabi formulations. Back then, the industrialized world was just beginning its headlong drive to digitize as much of “reality” as possible and transfer it into a “virtual” or “dematerialized” form. Back then, wabi-sabi’s nature-based sense of “aesthetic realism” offered genuine comfort and inspiration for sensitive, creative souls. Will wabi-sabi’s quintessentially analog sensibility still provide emotional grounding and creative nourishment going forward into the future? For perspective, and possibly insight, it might be helpful to look back at the time and place when the “wabi” tea ceremony—the form and spirit of wabi-sabi—was being developed.

Kyoto, Japan in the sixteenth century was embroiled in civil conflict. The mood of the populace was sober, if not dispirited. Many valuable collections of refined Chinese utensils—the kind of “perfect” objects then favored in the tea ceremony—were being destroyed. Substitute objects were needed. Japanese-made surrogates, though less refined and relatively crude, were available and reasonably priced. So they were used.

The locus of this “wabi”/wabi-sabi invention was the tea room. In contrast to the luxurious tea rooms that had previously existed, the “wabi” tea room was rustic and often housed in a small, detached hut, usually surrounded by a tiny garden.

At the beginning of what I would call the “wabi era,” tea rooms were four-and-a-half tatami mats, or roughly 81 square feet. By the era’s end, tea rooms could be 1/3 that size, or 27 square feet. At the beginning of the wabi era, ceremony participants entered the tea room standing up. By the end of the era, they entered crawling in through a small opening on their hands and knees.

This compression of space, driven by artistic and “spiritual” motives, had the effect of:

* Temporarily equalizing social status. (All participants were equally humbled.)

* Intensifying the intimacy of human relations. (And upped the drama.)

* Eliminating all unnecessary objects.

* And, focusing more attention onto the objects that remained.

As the wabi era progressed, tea rooms and objects became simpler and more modest. Improvisation became commonplace. Objects from non-tea ceremony contexts were increasingly adapted for tea ceremony use. For example, rice bowls were repurposed as tea bowls. Even broken-and-repaired objects were used. Cause and effect made visible—the consequences of use, misuse, and accident—was appreciated.

From the foregoing, it is apparent that the “wabi” sensibility—the form and spirit of wabi-sabi—began mostly as an aesthetic accommodation to the catastrophic realities of the day.

There are the parallels in our time. Increasingly, we can make out the dark outlines of catastrophic scenarios to come. It is predicted that more and bigger climate-related events will intersect catastrophically with an expanding global population. How far will our material resources stretch? After the damage is repeatedly cleared away, will most of us be forced into smaller and smaller living environments, with fewer, and more modest objects?

This need not be tragic. The beauty of wabi-sabi is rooted in modesty—even poverty—that is elegantly perceived. The aesthetic pleasures of wabi-sabi depend on attitude and practice as much, or more, than on the materiality itself. Subtlety and nuance are at wabi-sabi’s heart. Wabi-sabi resides in the inconspicuous and overlooked details, in the minor and the hidden, in the tentative and ephemeral. But in order to appreciate these qualities, certain habits of mind are required: calmness, attentiveness, and thoughtfulness. If these are not present, wabi-sabi is invisible.


1: The Japanese tea ceremony is what we today might call an “art performance.” The host—the artist—prepares and serves bowls of whipped, powdered green tea in an environment consisting of objects, flowers, and a calligraphic scroll, all specifically selected and arranged for his/her guests. The guests, in turn, usually have some prior knowledge of tea ceremony etiquette and artistic precedents, so they can, and do, respond to the host’s gestures in an informed spirit. Most contemporary tea ceremonies are, however, highly formalized rituals with little, if any, real invention. Nevertheless, tea ceremony still offers profound aesthetic rewards for receptive participants.

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A Demographic Transition, Indeed

Japan’s population is declining at a rapid rate as the average age of its citizens climbs. Having peaked at nearly 128 million people in 2004, when those aged 65 or over comprised about 20%, the population is expected to drop to 95 million by 2050, when the share of senior citizens will be about 40%.

And the rate is increasing, with 2012 marking the steepest drop ever for the second straight year, with deaths outpacing births by 205,000. For the first time, the proportion of elderly 65 and over surpassed the number of youths age 14 and under, in all 47 prefectures.

The near and medium term implications of this change are mounting. With elderly farmers dying off and those remaining having more difficulty being alone, there continues a flight to urban centers. Tokyo, Osaka, and Nagoya now host nearly half the entire population. If government agricultural subsidies are cut from passage of the TPP trade agreement, it is sobering to think of what that will do to the remaining small farmers and their land. The government already spends over a third of its income supporting the elderly. But can this huge outlay continue?

After all, in 1965 there were nine workers paying taxes for every retired person. Now there are just two.

Everywhere one looks across society there are impacts to be seen, economic, social, environmental. To be sure, a falling population will require less energy and consume fewer resources, but one wonders what kind of infrastructure will meet the remaining demand. Hopefully it will be a relatively soft landing, but the risks of it being hard, or at least turbulent, are huge.

In any case, the scale and nature of this demographic transition is unprecedented in the world. I believe this is the first time a highly industrialized country has faced such a persistent and profound decrease in population. And when taking into account all of its attendant challenges and implications, it is an open question whether this unfolding could possibly result in a resurgence of satoyama spirit – albeit decades hence, when the population returns to Edo-era numbers. One can only hope.

Credit: Japan for Sustainability

Credit: Japan for Sustainability


Lessons from Pre-Industrial Japan

In early 2001 I happened upon an intriguing book at the Kinokuniya Book Store in San Francisco’s Japantown called, The Japanese Dream Home, by Azby Brown. Published that same year, it contained a fascinating history of Japanese architecture and provided an early basis for my better understanding Japanese design and aesthetics. This closely-read book remains on my book case, sitting next to another amazing book Azby wrote years later, titled Just Enough. The latter is a beautifully written and illustrated (by the author) book that provides scholarly (but highly readable) and valuable substantiation for many of the themes of this blog, and as such, appears at the top of my list under the above Inspiration menu.

Eleven years later I happened to meet Azby when Helena Norberg-Hodge invited him to present at the March 2012 Economics of Happiness conference in Berkeley. When I mentioned to him about my enjoying his first book, his jaw dropped and he said I was perhaps the only person he’d ever met who had read it! Little did he know that it has often been trotted out over the years to show house guests about my love for Japanese design.

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Could Japan Return to an Edo Period Lifestyle by 2050?

Once again, UN University’s Our World 2.0 web magazine has published an outstanding essay well worth re-posting. The Future of Food in Japan, authored by the site’s editors in their usual clear-eyed fashion, touches on a host of daunting issues and challenges facing the country’s food self-sufficiency, energy security, and lifestyle in coming decades.

The writer’s compelling analysis aside, the links alone make the piece worthwhile (see, for example, Antony Boys’ pioneering and thorough analysis of the relationship between agricultural productivity and energy scarcity written in 2000 – a paper that long ago helped shape this blog’s theses).

But what is especially interesting – vis-á-vis Satoyama Spirit’s notion of Japan’s eventual return to a resilient lifestyle based on harmony with nature – are the as-yet-unread-by-me views of Eisuke Ishikawa, a prominent author who writes about the Edo Period. The Our World 2.0 article says:

Under present trends, the food supply problem will evolve and significant difficulties will emerge. Boys himself refers to the work of Eisuke Ishikawa, a writer on the Edo Period economy, who talks about the state of Japan in 2050 (“2050 is the Edo Period”, Kodansha, 1998) and essentially describes something like a “slow crash” — dwindling imports, falling exports, economic and population decline. (While there is no English translation of this book, you can read similar works by Ishikawa on the Japan for Sustainability website.)

Ishikawa’s work (at least those translated into English, care of JFS’s above link) are undoubtedly on my short-list of anticipated readings. Hopefully, they will provide the impetus for a future post (or posts!).



Ecosystem Services as a Concept is Gaining Currency

In what is undoubtedly a positive development for the natural world, the concept of “ecosystem services” is poised to go mainstream. This is a good thing because the concept is based upon the idea that our status quo economic models do not properly recognize the value of so-called externalities and fail to take into account the “services” that complex and biodiverse ecological systems provide to humanity. Seeing the world through such expansive eyes – through the wide-angle lens of ecosystems – is a refreshing, and promising, departure from the conventional narrow economic mindset. As such, one might say (pun intended) that the concept is, er, “gaining currency.”

For all of its promise, however, I would argue that its worth is really as a “bridge concept” – an advance to be sure – but nonetheless just a stepping stone on our longer path toward a greater awareness of our proper relationship to Nature. To arrive where we really need to go we must expand our awareness in ways that are not easy for those of us embedded in the modern world. Toward that end, I am offering the following (lengthy) email dialogue in the hope that it might contribute to progress on our individual and collective journeys. Continue reading

A nuke-free Japan in the near term?

Given the inherently un-sustainable nature of nuclear power generation – to say nothing of its profound lack of resilience – I have no doubt that the future of Japan, and indeed the world, will ultimately be nuclear free, perhaps within mere decades (albeit with residual nuclear contamination persisting for tens of thousands of years, well into the “Long Now”).

But what I hadn’t anticipated until recently is the possibility of Japan shutting down all of its nuclear reactors within months. Yet it is a real possibility, and if it does happen it will propel Japan far ahead of other industrialized countries in transitioning to a more harmonious relationship with nature. Continue reading

Coexisting with Nature: Reflections after the Devastating 2011 Earthquake in Japan

In the three months since Japan’s major earthquake in March, many evocative articles and inspiring anecdotes have been published that, taken together, could well represent the early contours of a new, emerging paradigm of remembrance of our fundamental and inextricable oneness with nature and each other.

When I began musing about the revitalization of satoyama culture it was not at all clear how we might get “from here to there”, given the inertia and entrenchment of our current paradigm of separation, but if there is any silver lining to be discerned from the horrible dislocations of Japan’s still-unfolding tragedy, perhaps it is that the Japanese people are not letting this crisis go to waste in terms of using it as an opportunity for reflection. Many observers are recognizing that Japan is undergoing a profound transformation – starting even before the earthquake, tsunami and nuclear disaster tore its societal fabric – and now the potential for real change across seemingly disparate sectors is being revealed in increasingly practical terms. Continue reading

Japan should look to satoyama and satoumi for inspiration – A new article on Our World 2.0

This morning Our World 2.0 posted an outstanding new article entitled, “Japan should look to satoyama and satoumi for inspiration“.

It is exciting and gratifying to see the concepts of satoyama and satoumi being highlighted for their potential to provide a sustainable, resilient, long-term basis for a rich and dynamic culture and thriving relationship with the natural world – not only for Japan’s rebuilding strategy but also for the world.

Japan is uniquely positioned to act as a “proof of concept” for other developed countries in finding ways to remember and draw into the present long forgotten ways of living in harmony with nature – and in the process reconnecting with those tangible and intangible qualities of interconnectedness that provide true meaning to our lives and nourish our parched spirits. Continue reading

Tight Web Saves Cut-Off Japanese Villages

Japan’s still-unfolding disaster offers important lessons for us all – on many levels – with inspiring stories continuing to emerge of personal courage and generosity and collective cooperation and resilience. One powerful and practical example of the importance of cultivating what might be referred to as “satoyama spirit” was highlighted today in a New York Times article, “Tight Web Saves Cut-Off Japanese Villages“: Continue reading

A letter from Sendai

At this time of nearly unspeakable calamity in Japan, words emanating from within the country are precious. Today, a colleague alerted me to the following, A letter from Sendai, published today in Ode Magazine. It is written by a woman I don’t know, Anne Thomas – a gaijin living in Japan – and it eloquently and movingly captures a profound moment – a confluence of local and global, resilience and acceptance, sharing and generosity, healing and hope – when personal concerns are transcended and our intrinsic oneness is recognized and appreciated, even cherished and celebrated, through a recovery of the simplicity on the other side of complexity. I hope you are as inspired by this letter as I was. Continue reading

To Serve the Ecosystems that Serve Us

The following article appears in Our World 2.0. It is a modified (improved!) version of a an earlier post on this blog. Thank you, OW2.0, for picking this up and helping spread these ideas!

What if we changed our relationship with the natural world from one of taking what we can to one of reciprocity and mutual giving?

The International Satoyama Initiative, formally launched at this past October’s COP10 Biodiversity Conference in Nagoya, Japan, provides an important boost to preserving traditional forest and farmland (satoyama), and seaside (satoumi) ecological production landscapes around the world. Its aim of restoring a balanced and sustainable harmony between humans and the natural environment is something no one could argue the world does not need.

However, is the proposed cure for satoyama’s current degenerative state — assigning such biodiverse landscapes value in direct proportion to the “ecosystem services” (the benefits of nature to households, communities, and economies) provided — adequate to the task? Or does viewing nature in such a calculated way, and justifying its preservation based on the things it gives us, simply perpetuate the tired old (yet sadly still quite widely-held) myth of nature existing for our benefit? Continue reading

Further signs of change in Japan: Portent or promise?

Inspired by the quickening pace of change occurring in Japan and around the world, a few weeks ago I began drafting a blog post tentatively titled, “Japan as Number One, Again?” in which I argue (as I have in previous posts – for example, here) why I believe that Japan is poised to once again become a world leader, not in conventional economic terms of course, but in something more elusive and subtle, but ultimately more important.

However, events and other articles have overtaken my relaxed timeline for completing my draft post and I want to share some of these recent developments right away. But first, here is a preview of my draft to provide context for what follows: Continue reading

From Ecosystem Services to Gift Culture: An Overdue Change in Perspective

What if we changed our relationship with the natural world from one of taking what we can to one of reciprocity and mutual giving?

The International Satoyama Initiative formally launched at this week’s COP10 Biodiversity Conference in Nagoya, Japan, provides an important boost to preserving traditional forest and farmland (“satoyama”), and seaside (“satoumi”) ecological production landscapes around the world and restoring a balanced and sustainable harmony between humans and the natural environment.

But is the proposed cure for satoyama’s current degenerative state – assigning such biodiverse landscapes value in direct proportion to their “ecosystem services” provided to humans – adequate to the task? Or does viewing nature in such a calculated way – and justifying its preservation for the “services” provided – simply perpetuate obsolete, if widely-held, myths of human separation from nature and nature existing for our benefit? Continue reading

UNEP says “Satoyama may prove to be one of Japan’s most important exports”

Addressing yesterday’s opening of the biodiversity summit in Nagoya, the 10th Meeting of the Conference of the Parties to the CBD, Achim Steiner, the United Nations Under-Secretary General and Executive Director of the UN Environment Programme (UNEP), noted something very significant and, I believe, right on target:

Japan’s ancient culture and legendary technological innovation has given the world many things. But perhaps in many ways Satoyama may prove to be among the most important exports of Japan to a world still searching for sustainability.

On a related note, OurWorld 2.0, a profoundly important webzine, just posted a selection of their short films about satoyama and biodiversity, each one exquisitely produced by the United Nations University. This selection was featured at a film festival associated with the COP10 conference in Nagoya on October 17, 2010. Do check out these “Stories from a Biodiverse World“!

Ecosystem Services – A transitional concept?

One of my favorite webzines, Our World 2.0, recently posted an article exploring the merits of developed countries paying developing countries to protect their so-called “ecosystem services.”

The concept of ecosystems providing a valuable service to humanity, and thus being worthy of protection, is a key proposition in the Satoyama Initiative’s quest to protect biodiversity. My feeling is that justifying the preservation of nature because it provides a service we recognize as valuable is adequate as far as it goes, but it’s nonetheless an old paradigm response. I’m re-posting my comment here: Continue reading

Village Simplicity – Ideal or Real?

The following excerpt is from Duane Elgin’s classic book, Voluntary Simplicity. In it, Ram Dass wisely speaks to the topic of a previous blog post in which I discuss “the simplicity which lies on the other side of complexity,” except that he does so in terms specific to village life and our tendency to idealize the traditional lifestyle: Continue reading

A Taste of Living Oneness

Earlier this month I had the great pleasure of visiting Jeffrey Irish, a fascinating fellow in southern Japan who, as an American expatriate, is garnering considerable regional renown for his twelve years of residency in a tiny rural Japanese farming village, including two years as village head.


Jeff came to his current position in an equally unlikely way. Following college he got a job with a large Japanese construction company and showed sufficient business acumen to be asked, with two other employees, to start a U.S. branch of the company in New York City, a branch which ultimately grew to 180 employees as he moved up to become vice president.

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How important is worldview?

Given its centuries of success in Japan, the satoyama socio-ecological production landscape appears in many ways to be an inspiring example of how a community of people can live sustainably on the land while enjoying a meaningful and rewarding lifestyle. As we move into a new world of energy descent and relocalization, it certainly seems the Japanese experience has much to offer the rest of the world. For one thing, not only is the Japanese government the first in the developed world to recognize the value of and take steps toward the preservation of their priceless heritage, but Japan may well be the first developed nation to actually have to go down this path in a large-scale way. Continue reading

Where is the spirit?

In reflecting about the Japanese government’s highly admirable pursuit of the Satoyama Initiative, I am wondering where is the discussion about culture, about community, about the underlying spiritual worldview of the satoyama and satoumi cultures. The underlying worldview of embeddedness in nature, of oneness with the environment, is clearly what undergirded and made possible the establishment and evolution of the original satoyama socio-ecological production landscapes.

Now, however, for all of the well-intentioned efforts to revitalize satoyama for the sake of biodiversity and cultural preservation, I have yet to see mention of what I believe is that glue that holds it all together. So far, I’m seeing a modern scientific worldview trying to recreate the recognizable pieces of a historically complex social and environmental ecosystem. And as we all know, the whole is greater than the sum of the parts.

What is that intangible quality that supersedes this piece-meal summation? What is it that is necessary for the government and NGOs to be fully conscious of if they are to succeed in their endeavors? I believe the invisible glue is the worldview of the residents themselves. A worldview of oneness, of spirit. To be sure, this worldview is ancient, but not archaic. It isn’t reflected in the modern scientific paradigm (save for quantum physics) but it is alive and well nonetheless. Growing in recognition and influence in fact.

And unless this is properly recognized as the requisite underlying reason for being of these mature satoyama landscapes, no amount of technical innovation, capital expenditure, rural revitalization efforts tied in with modern scientific knowledge, etc., will suffice in re-establishing viable, sustainable, resililient satoyama communities.

Community fabric, embedded worldview, spiritual connection to the land, and other inherently feminine qualities are largely absent from modern discussions, but for relocalization and revitalization goals to work, they must become part of the planning equation and conversation.

Of course, I’m not Japanese and I’m not in Japan, so perhaps the conversation is happening and I’m just not privy to it, or not looking in the right place. However, if the learnings of the Satoyama Initiative are going to be offered to the world in the hope that the Japanese experience can be brought to bear elsewhere, then it seems to me that an explicit discussion of worldview’s importance would be beneficial.

Finding simplicity on the other side of complexity

Oliver Wendall Holmes quipped, “I wouldn’t give a fig for the simplicity on this side of complexity, but I’d give my life for the simplicity on the other side of complexity.”

What does this have to do with satoyama? It speaks directly to the nature of the change we’re facing as a humanity. And it suggests the value proposition offered by a satoyama socio-ecological production landscape. As we approach the limits of industrial society, constrained by the earth’s finite natural resource endowments, we are being pushed, and pulled, past our current way of thinking that falsely assumes many things, including the possibility of endless growth, the promise of endless technological progress, and that we are somehow separate from nature itself.

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When nature is an abstraction it’s easy to take it for granted

Yesterday, after reading Our World 2.0’s excellent article, Biodiversity, the world’s economic backbone, it occurred to me that we humans are being confronted by an entirely new challenge: How NOT to take nature for granted.

After lunch I took a moment to watch from our deck as the rain fell lightly onto the leaves of our persimmon tree. It struck me that so long as our decision-makers remain ensconced in their offices and meeting rooms and subways of the built world, that nature will remain an abstraction, a backdrop against which we play the game of our human project. A project whose very underpinnings are based upon such myths as endless economic growth, endless technological fixes, endless human-centered progress. Continue reading

A classic documentary, NHK’s Satoyama: Japan’s Secret Watergarden, narrated by David Attenborough

Filmed in 2004 by NHK, Satoyama: Japan’s Secret Watergarden is a gorgeously filmed sixty minute documentary, narrated by David Attenborough. Broadcast a few years later on BBC, the full film is available to view here on Google.

[UPDATE: A four-apart HD version is now available on YouTube. The first part is available here. The remaining parts appear on the right column. SORRY NO LONGER AVAILABLE DUE TO COPYRIGHT ISSUES]

[UPDATE – Aug 21, 2011: The complete film now seems impossible to find on the internet. I’d purchase the DVD if I could find it, but that, too, appears unavailable. If anyone knows a source, please post a comment. In the meantime, while the first of six parts remains off-limits, the subsequent five parts remain available, for now. Parts two-six are available here.]

[UPDATE – March 2012: Here is the complete film in HD, recently posted, not broken into parts:

This film portrays the essence of the satoyama landscape’s seamless fabric of interdependence and cyclical relationship between human and environment. Having heard about it for years, but never wanting to use peer-to-peer networks to view it, I was very pleased to finally find it available, albeit with somewhat compromised resolution.


Japan’s strength, and future, is rooted in their ancient connection to nature

In last Sunday’s Japan Times article, To realize its cultural potential, Japan must celebrate its strengths, Kyoto-resident Roger Pulvers hits a positive chord when he asserts that Japan must celebrate its strengths, but says that they’ve already missed the opportunity to capitalize on manga, anime, sushi and karaoke. (See my published letter to the editor here.) Continue reading

For the “ama” free divers of Japan, the sacred feminine remains central

The outstanding webzine Our World 2.0 recently posted a remarkable article and video about the “ama” free divers of Hegura Island off the Noto Peninsula in the Japan Sea. For centuries these divers, all women, have been collecting abalone and other sea life using nothing but loin clothes, only adopting wet suits in 1964. Continue reading

A subtle but profound shift appears to be taking place in the Japanese psyche

This weekend I was very pleased to read Japan For Sustainability’s April newsletter article, Good-Bye ‘Ownership,’ ‘Materialism,’ and ‘Monetization” in Lifestyles:
A New Era Dawning in Japan
, as it is a timely reflection of what I feel to be a very important, and hopeful, trend occurring in Japan, and later, the world. Continue reading

Satoyama and the importance of Japan’s ancestral roots

Satoyama and the importance of Japan’s ancestral roots
I’m very interested to know how the Jomon’s spiritual connection to nature endured and influenced the Shinto connection to the natural world, and how the Jomon legacy influenced the Japanese culture’s success at living sustainably for millennia. Continue reading