Co-ordinates: I’m posting this on Coming of Age day, a day in which all young adults in the country, 20 year olds, are recognised and celebrate together in civil ceremonies in every town with a municipality. They gussy up in formal gear and take a million photos with the cohort and friends they’ve grown up with. From this day on, they are legal adults. I’m not sure what this means, exactly, these days, especially with the voting age having been lowered to 18 last year. Still, it’s a good time for parties and reunions and 20 is the legal drinking age, here so there’ll be a bit of experimentation with that, I suspect.
I wanted to call this post, “The Aisatsu & the Mikka Bouzu”, meaning The Greeting and the Three-Day Monk, because both are important elements, the first serious and the second playful, of the New Year in Japan.
The New Year’s Greeting, a gob-stopping fifteen syllable formula, took me quite a long time to learn to say. The next part of the formula, another fifteen sounds, establishing our mutual dependency, was no easier. It seemed an age before they rolled off my tongue. And then there was the body language to accompanies the words: a bow conveying a sincere heart. That takes some roots to learn how to do properly and getting it all together was a challenge, particularly in comparison with the rather more casual four syllable greeting we use in English.
It is properly formal, something I have grown to appreciate because new beginnings should be approached with the appropriate respect, if not awe. Anything can happen. This is a valuable lesson I see being modelled, and participate in, in the early days of every new year and it is one I cherish. To meet people for the first time in the new year one takes special care with the greeting. These people are part of your new beginning. Who knows what you can be to, and for, one another? Greeting, you commit to trusting your neighbour.
The greeting, or aisatsu, is, at any time, important to the Japanese, and it occurred to me to wonder about the Chinese characters for the ‘Ai’ (sounds like ‘eye’ and to the ‘kanji uninitiated’, most often means ‘love’) part of aisatsu. How apt it would be, I thought, if the ai of aisatsu meant love. It does not, I have learned. The ai of the greeting, though, grows out of the radical ‘hand’ (interesting, in a curious way, as the Japanese traditionally do not make body contact when greeting), where the ‘ai’ of love grows, aptly enough, from the radical ‘heart’. What I see around New Year, though, in the fresh attentiveness with which greetings are exchanged, persuades me of the connection (which any touch therapist will confirm) of the connection between the hand and the heart.
There is wisdom, underlined by the hand-heart connection, to putting your heart (also, in Japanese, called the mind) into anything you put your hand to. Often, when the Japanese indicate themselves, ‘me’, or ‘I’, they point to their head (or, more precisely, their nose. No clue why!), where a Westerner will perhaps raise their hand to their heart to indicate the self. By contrast, the Japanese, when telling you what they think, will hold their hand over their heart, never their head. The heart-mind is used for ‘thinking’ or processing, here, never simply ‘the brain’, another little gem of cultural wisdom I’ve come to appreciate.
For all the good intentions of a new year, there is also an understanding of how easy it is to lose steam. This is where the affectionate name ‘Mikka Bohzu’, or the Three Day Monk comes in – all hot and serious and holding tightly to your own will power at the start, soon you become tired out by all that efforting, all that self-focus. Relax and align with your true purpose, be patient, grow into it. Be natural. Begin again.
Be willing, as Meister Eckardt says, to be a beginner every single morning.
Image credit: my iOS Japanese dictionary, imiwa, whose kanji person is Ulrich Apel.