Between (SPACE)
Silence
The silence in Japanese public spaces, such as crowded trains, may not be due to indifference or coldness toward others, but rather to the unconscious consideration that Japanese people take to ``not invade other people's space (space) with their sounds.''
We protect each other with silence, which speaks louder than words. By not making unnecessary noise, we respect the thinking and resting time of those around us, and ensure a private space that cannot be seen. A quiet sense of togetherness and comfortable harmony is created by sharing silence with each other without exchanging words. Silence in Japan is not a state of ``nothingness,'' but a state of ``presence,'' where the space is filled with kindness and consideration for each other.
Margin (Yohaku)
In Japanese paintings and Zen gardens, the "undrawn parts (margins)" are a canvas for limitless imagination that expands in the minds of the viewers.
For example, ``Karesansui'' is a garden that uses only white sand, without using water, to represent the ocean. The Rinpa school of the Edo period expressed an unpainted atmosphere with bold gold leaf spaces. ``Haiku'' strips words down to the limit and cuts out the world in just 17 syllables. Noh is a performing art that holds deep emotions in the ``spaces'' of still time. Don't tell everything, leave a blank space. It is a mental play in which the work is completed only when it resonates with the sensitivity and imagination of the recipient. Infinite richness resides in the finely honed space of "nothingness."
Shadows
Architecture, Japanese paper, tableware, food, makeup, and Noh and Kabuki costumes. All of these Japanese art pieces were created with consideration given to how they would look in the darkness of a dimly lit room. Rather than erasing darkness, the Japanese dared to use it to create a profound world, like a gold folding screen that glows dully in the pale light. The great literary figure Junichiro Tanizaki once argued that while the West sought light and tried to illuminate every corner of the room, the Japanese recognized ``shadow'' and found beauty in it. The shadow is also a philosophical metaphor. It is a symbol of the hidden truth behind what is visible, the unconscious, or the transience and melancholy of life.
Instead of exposing everything to the light of day, quietly accept the hidden side (shadow). The imagination that allows us to think about things that cannot be seen teaches us the depth and beauty of the world.
LISTENING
Japanese people hear the sounds of insects chirping during the long autumn nights not as "noise" but as "voice." Dr. Tadanobu Tsunoda's research has shown that while Westerners process insect sounds as mechanical sounds in the right brain, Japanese people (Japanese speakers) process them in the same language brain (left brain) as human speech. The sound of insects is not a noise, but a poem that heralds the change of seasons.
In the tea ceremony, the sound of boiling water is called ``pine breeze'' (the sound of the wind blowing through a pine forest), and the temperature of the water can be sensed just by the change in that sound. From the faint sound of "fish eyes (fine bubbles)" on the bottom, to the sound of earthworms, to the sound of rushing water. Rather than listening to the sound, listen to the natural scene beyond the sound and the silence in the margins. The Japanese definition of "silence" is not a state of silence where all sounds have disappeared, but rather an "abyss of stillness" that is perceived more deeply by the presence of the subtle sounds of nature.
