The Sounds of Japan

The clicks of the tickets at the subway entrance.

The wind racing past your ears on the stairway to the trainstation.

The soft hum of cars driving past.

The ring of bicycle bells.

The click of high heels on pavement.

The formal addressing of people walking along the street by people handing out advertisements and flyers.

The shortened casual speech that friends use with eachother.

The strange silence that falls after walking two feet into a temple’s grounds.

The welcoming greeting that store employees say when you step into a shop.

The soft conversations of people on the subway and in the street.

            Regardless of what the sound is, it always seems to have a gentler and softer quality than in the States. Maybe it’s just the culture, or the centuries of Buddhist and Shinto influence, but whatever it is, the everyday sounds of a Japanese lifestyle seem to enforce the idea of being courteous not only to each other, but to the environment and world around you. People seem to be perpetually trying to respect others even through something as simple as bowing slightly when you enter a shop to show that you acknowledge the greeting being sent your way. It’s truly amazing how careful people are, and how deeply respect is embedded into their culture. Every time I go outside, I’m constantly amazed by how the growing metropolis that is Japanese cities still manage to protect their temples, shrines, and make room for nature in their lives. That along with how genuinely kind everyone acts towards each other will always blow me away. Even as a foreigner, I get treated with the same respect and I appreciate the effort they’ve put into creating an atmosphere of hospitality.

One of my friends recently told me that this stems from the original Shinto belief that gods and spirits live in everything: the grass, the rivers, the trees etc. Therefore, so as not to dishonor the spirits they’re careful about preserving and protecting nature. I find that idea very fascinating, and correct. People should respect the world around them and work with it, instead of trying to dominate it.

            I feel that this respect that contributes to the Japanese way of life and the gentleness of the sounds here. Beyond all the temples, the shrines, and the festivals, it is the softness of the interactions that strikes me the most and that I’ll probably remember the most fondly. Staying up at night, looking out of my window at the glowing lights of the city, the wind blowing outside sums up the sounds of this place. It flows, curves, and gently swirls around everything around it; never getting to be strong enough to be roaring, instead always whispering softly. That to me is the sound of Japan.

"Tranquillité"

            There’s a special feeling that stirs within oneself when sitting besides a pool of water in the middle of a beautiful garden, situated within a temple’s grounds. Serenity. Sweet genuine serenity fulfils you as you take in the harmony of your surroundings. The manner in which the water bugs skip and play across the surface of the pond, the gentle silence hanging in the air around you, the beautiful flowers which add delicate touches of color to the green landscape, curvy trees that majestically rise and seem to carry a deep inner peace within themselves… it is all of this combined and more that composes the serenity of a temple’s grounds.

             Even if your thoughts are all jumbled, and your mind is troubled, once you sit within its confines it is impossible to think of anything; the serenity is that compelling. It calls gently to you, and if you accept it, it will sweep into your spirit and exchange all your heavy thoughts with soft wispy whispers which tell you to listen. Listen to the silence of the grounds around you. Listen to the wind moving through the leaves on the trees. Listen to the birds and the insects in the air. Listen to them all, without focusing on a single one. This alone will allow you find serenity. How long you keep that serenity depends upon you and whether or not you’re willing to take to heart the message being presented to you. If you do, that serenity, that peace, can be taken anywhere you go and found anywhere.

Serenity is the strongest emotional cleansing that I’ve ever felt. It’s in the water, air, and earth around us. It can be found in a leaf, a person, an animal, a piece of music, or a flower. Serenity is everywhere, and in everything. You simply have to recognize it when you see it and allow it to have a space in your heart. There are places that exude serenity such as temples, shrines and some gardens, but there are many other places that simply give the suggestion of serenity and allow you to choose whether to pursue it or not. I have found a sense of serenity a long time ago, but I still have to reaffirm that feeling sometimes. In Japan, that feeling has intensified. While I came here for the language and the culture, I find I am being drawn in by the ghosts of monks who created the Zen gardens and temples I love to stroll through; enjoying the serenity they wished to create and share as much as my studies.

So while I will write about my adventures through Japan this summer, my thoughts are swaying gently to the tune of peace and tranquility that I hear in the air everywhere I go. “On the Wind” is an allusion to that and to my love of dance, movement, and travel. On the wind, a person is free to go, stay, or move as they please. This freedom of movement is uplifting, and it is with the intention to move smoothly and gently through the world like the wind does that I will continue my adventures from here on out.