Every language and culture has a handful of meaning-rich words and phrases that resist translation. As we put together our first journey in Japan, one such term that cropped up repeatedly was mono no aware. Journey designer, Angie Koong looks at what it means and how mono no aware will help you to savour the moment…

“If we spoke a different language, we would perceive a somewhat different world.” ‒ Ludwig Wittgenstein I have always admired the Japanese sensitivity to beauty and nature, but – lacking the right vocabulary – could never put my finger on exactly what the quality was or where it came from. Yet during our research trip to Japan last year, and despite a tight schedule and long days, I discovered I would suddenly feel moved by moments of beauty in a way that was new to me.One morning, as I sat by a stone pond with a cup of green tea, a leaf drifted into the water. The ripples it created soon disappeared, and the leaf’s beauty would not last long before its vivid colour drained away. So I soaked in that brief moment before going about my day. On another occasion, the sound of gravel crunching beneath our car’s tyres as we pulled over suddenly created the perfect counterpoint to the wind sighing in the pine trees and the distant chirp of birds. A beautiful moment of peace and joy, and time for a deep breath of the pine-scented air.

Perhaps you have felt something similar? The feelings inspired by a sunset as it slides below the horizon, or a surge of emotion stirred by a live performance? Often we may try to hold on to a special moment, yet the harder we grasp the faster it seems to slip away.   The Japanese have long recognised both the joy and the melancholy inspired by the impermanence of such moments, calling such awareness mono no aware (a-wa-ray), 物の哀れ.   The phrase inevitably loses something in translation, but its literal meaning, “the sadness or pathos of things”, is a good starting point. Mono no aware is the appreciation of things in the shadow of their future absence. The feeling is an experience of the heart and soul, a sensation most commonly stirred by nature or the depiction of an object in its pristine, untouched state. One annual event rich in mono no aware is the springtime blossoming of Japan’s cherry trees, which bloom for just a few weeks each year. A literary critic who wrote extensively about mono no aware, even claimed that ‘the soul of Japan’ is embodied in the sight of cherry blossoms in the morning sun. But while blossom-viewing might be a photogenic excuse for a picnic, there is no need to join the crowds to feel a sense of mono no aware. We are surrounded by ephemeral natural beauty all the time – the phases of the moon, the blossoming of other flowers (such as fragrant wisteria in Kyushu 九州), and the vivid colours of autumn leaves – all of these beautiful sights are given heightened poignancy by their transience. Mono no aware is not necessarily about solitary contemplation, it can also be an experience to be shared. Some do this by composing poems, painting or crafting beautiful objects that communicate the maker’s emotions. For others, a motivation for seasonal outings with friends is to share a moment that will pass all too soon. Travel is especially conducive to a sense of mono no aware. A journey brings new experiences that we long to remember and share – one good reason why most of us travel with a camera. Photographs are, indeed, a wonderful way of remembering and reliving a journey. But even the most beautiful image will never completely evoke a moment in time – the delicious smell of a good meal or the warmth of the midday sun will be lost.

Learning about mono no aware as I researched our first journey in Japan gave me the words to describe what I’d merely sensed before. Simply knowing the phrase has helped me be more open to the beauty of the moment, whether I’m on the road or not. I find that I pause more frequently to appreciate where life has taken me, all that I have, and how much beauty there is in nature.   The lesson of mono no aware may be summed up like this: Savour and appreciate the moment, because the beauty experienced in it will never be the same. It will pass and it will end. And as life changes, a new and different beauty will arrive as the wheel of time turns ever onwards.

Join us on The Soul of Japan: Kyushu & Shikoku