Becoming the Universe: Zen in Japanese
Culture Lauren Phillips (Stony Brook University)
Japan is a country often characterized in two distinct ways: mythical and seeped with tradition or a
high-speed technological powerhouse. It is therefore difficult sometimes to see a common feature between
Japan of old and modern day Japan; however, the spirit of Japan is still alive and thriving. This spirit is
found within the philosophy of Zen from the Zen Buddhism religion of Japan. While not all the citizens
identify themselves as Zen Buddhists, this philosophy is still present throughout their lives.

The spirit of Japan is actually one from a surprising origin. It was not originally from Japan, but was
rather introduced to Japan by Chinese Zen Buddhist monks. Even though the philosophy is not purely
Japanese bred, the people of Japan have taken the concept and formed it into their own, uniquely Japanese
philosophy. Zen is the practice which gives one the discipline to destroy self, or more simply put, to destroy
any desires, in order to create empty self. Once a person has reached empty self, he or she is enlightened
and becomes a Buddha. In order to reach this state, one must practice sabi and wabi. Sabi essentially means
loneliness, though not in the sense of how westerners interpret the word. In this case, loneliness is time by
oneself wherein one reflects upon oneself and anything that individual can think of is not the person and
therefore must be destroyed in order to reach enlightenment. This refers to thoughts such as fame and the
desire for fame must be destroyed; otherwise, the attachment to this goal would prevent one from achieving
empty self. Wabi deals with an appreciation of poverty. In this ideal one is not dependent on worldly things
and wants for nothing, for anything one could want, one already has. This concept of Zen Buddhism
instructs one to appreciate what is around oneself. The concept of Zen may sound a little intangible, and
may initially seem that to have no application outside of someone studiously practicing Zen Buddhism;
however, this is not at all true. Within Japan, the concept of Zen has infiltrated every part of the culture.

The presence of Zen is most obvious in the arts of Japan. While growing up I would wonder about the
Japanese style of art. Since I was thinking in a European influenced mind set, I was unable to truly grasp
what the art of Japan was expressing. I knew it was beautiful, but the truth it conveyed always eluded me,
and instead settled on the corners of my mind, just out of reach of understanding. When other countries,
particularly those of the west, create a piece of pottery they glorify it if it is perfect. The piece must be
perfectly glazed, and perfectly crafted with no change in thickness and possessing a uniform shape. In
opposition, the great artisans of Japan often will purposely make an imperfection in the pottery, such as
inconsistent thickness or a deliberate mistake in shape, for when a piece has rustic unpretentiousness or
antiquated imperfections it is said to contain sabi and is therefore a true piece of artwork.

The concept of art also differs with paintings between western countries and Japan. Unlike the
paintings of western countries, which cover the entire canvas in paint, the Japanese employ a one corner
style of painting. Only one corner of the canvas actually has paint on it while the rest remains clean. If one
discards this empty space when viewing the painting, one misses the entire point of the painting itself. The
blank void in this case represents the abyss which encompasses the universe. Though a bird on a branch
may be painted in the corner and nothing else is painted, the world still exists beyond that bird. This world
beyond the single subject of the painting is the universe itself, making the blank area of canvas just as
important as the painted subject. This minimalist style to art is also present in the traditional Japanese
poetry of haiku. Many westerners are incapable of understanding the significance of haikus when they are
initially introduced to them, and I must admit that I, too, was confused by the style. With only seventeen
syllables used, it would seem as though nothing of great importance could possibly be expressed. However,
haikus are not saturated with description in order to leave room for the unknown, for without the unknown
no art exists, just as with the one corner paintings. In truth, the haikus in their short meter express
something of the utmost importance; it is an expression of temporary enlightenment wherein one sees into
the life of things.

While studying haiku this past fall, I was struck with a shocking realization. The moment of
temporary enlightenment, the Zen utterance, I had experienced once before. When I was fifteen, my mother
would still drive me occasionally to my high school. One day as I walked from the parking lot towards the
building, something shimmering caught my attention. It was spring then and as it often does it had rained
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