Moving to Japan many years ago and being introduced more meticulously to its culture, history, and philosophy sparked a deep and lasting fascination that took root within me. Through extensive reading, research, observation, and reflection, it offered me valuable insights that, for some reason, blended organically with my own Balkan mentality. Japanese thought is like a quiet, endless ocean - vast and mysterious, yet full of deep truths for those curious to explore its depths. It’s not only that we can learn from it - it’s that we are drawn to it. The soul, restless and searching for meaning, finds itself captivated by its quiet elegance, by wisdom that is not shouted but whispered, like a secret offered in the stillness of the night. Herein lies its true beauty: it doesn’t force itself on you, it invites. It calls the spirit to explore the unknown, to face its own shadows, and in doing so, to find peace.
Here are a few philosophical principles that I find deeply compelling, each reflecting a unique idea or value within the expansive spectrum of Japanese aesthetics, ethics, and spirituality:
In the philosophy of "kensho" (見性), the gradual awakening to one's true self, there is a calm defiance against the rush of modern life. How easily we are deceived into thinking self-worth is built overnight, but Japanese thought insists on a far more patient, sometimes demanding journey - a slow, deliberate peeling away of the surface until only the real essence of the self remains. This is not comfort, but truth, and the search for truth is never without a bit of struggle. Yet in this struggle, in this slow awakening, there is beauty - one that cannot be grasped by those who seek only the fleeting joys of instant satisfaction.
Much like "bushidō" (武士道), the way of the warrior, this journey demands honor, integrity, and the kind of inner strength that does not waver, no matter how treacherous the path, a kind of inner strength that stands resolute in all circumstances. Bushidō embodies Gi (rectitude), Yū (courage), Jin (benevolence), Rei (respect), Makoto (honesty), Meiyo (honor), Chūgi (loyalty), and Jisei (self-control). It is not simply enduring hardship - it is about living with powerful intention, where loyalty, integrity, and courage form the foundation of a purposeful life. This spirit of Bushidō isn't about suffering but about a fierce dedication to living with honor and resilience, and within that struggle, one’s character is shaped. There is no arrogance in true confidence, only a hard-won resilience, the kind that grows in the cracks like a delicate flower breaking through stone.
Then comes "shibumi" (渋み) - that quiet, understated elegance that goes almost unnoticed, simplicity hiding a depth of complexity. True self-esteem, true understanding, doesn’t need to shout. It exists in the way a person holds themselves, moves through the world with calm, steady presence that speaks volumes without saying a word. This is confidence born not from pride but from humility, from understanding one’s place in the larger order of things, and finding peace in that awareness.
The beauty of "wabi-sabi" (侘寂) lies in its celebration of imperfection. It rejects the idea of flawless perfection and instead finds beauty in the cracks of imperfection and flaws. There is something both bittersweet and freeing in this acceptance - that we are all, in some way, broken, and it is through those very fractures that we find our true beauty. It’s a perspective that would resonate deeply with Dostoyevsky, who found humanity in the brokenness of his characters.
Perhaps the greatest gift of Japanese philosophy is the concept of "yūgen" (幽玄), that deep, elusive beauty lying just beyond reach, in the shadows and the unseen. Life is not meant to be fully understood, and some things are better left as mysteries. This unknowable depth gives life its meaning, its richness. The surface may seem dark, but beneath lies an entire world for those willing to look deeper, to feel with their soul, rather than just see with their eyes.
Finally, there is "fudōshin" (不動心) - the unshakable mind. To be calm, to be still, in the face of the storm - that is where true strength lies. It lies not in the victory and worldly achievements, triumph or success, but in the calm, steady enduring of life’s storms. This is the magnetic presence that draws others in, not through force or charm, but through the quiet power of someone who has faced the abyss and emerged, not untouched, but unbroken.
In Japanese philosophy, I’ve found a mirror to the human condition - beautiful, tragic, profound, and endlessly deep. It teaches us that self-esteem, like life, is not something to be attained in a moment, but something to be continuously sought, patiently, through humility and acceptance. There is no end to this journey, and in that endlessness lies its greatest beauty. ⋆𓂃 ࣪ ˖ for those who still pause for fleeting things, entries from the pages folded into margins 🜍 ⟡ ⟢
