Mono no aware (物的哀れ)

What exactly is life? Not the biological concept, but the metaphysical question. When we pause to consider this, it might seem a nebulous question, one that cannot be answered given the endless options. However, I would offer one interpretation: it is simply the series of moments in which we are aware of our own existence, of the fleeting nature of it all. That is not to say that life stops when we are unaware, naturally, but there is a poignant experience when our perception is drawn to the present - a feeling that this, this is life. The bitter irony of this, of course, is that by default we are 'programmed' to spend much of our time either in the past, or considering the future - awash in the stream of a river. In any case, this conclusion feels somewhat inherently correct, does it not? When you stop to consider 'when do I feel most alive? Or indeed, when do I feel the most?' It is always when we find ourselves free of the spell of human nature and in the moment: Catching a glimpse of the sun through the trees, acknowledging the sun's heat on our skin, noticing the depth and intensity of the beauty in our partner's eyes, the gentle drumming of rain as the clouds pass overhead, the relief of an achievement made, or a challenge overcome - all of these conjure up familiar scenes and feelings of joy. Yet, intermingled with that feeling there is often a sense of sorrow, a deep 'sigh', a yearning, a longing for that moment, that feeling, to go on forever. The sorrow accompanies the inherent knowledge of temporality tension, that all things must end. A bittersweet thing, this is the concept of mono no aware, or in some translations 'the sensitivity to ephemera'. If you have ever found yourself, in a moment, shedding a tear with a smile on your face, then you have experienced mono no aware. 

"If man were never to fade away like the dews of Adashino, never to vanish like the smoke over Toribeyama, how things would lose their power to move us! The most precious thing in life is its uncertainty... Are we to look at cherry blossoms only in full bloom, the moon only when it is cloudless? To long for the moon while looking on the rain, to lower the blinds and be unaware of the passing of the spring—these are even more deeply moving. Branches about to blossom or gardens strewn with faded flowers are worthier of our admiration." — Yoshida Kenkō (1283–1350)

I invite you now to consider the Cherry Blossom Season in Japan, ongoing as I write this. This is a cherished and celebrated event in which, for just a few weeks, the country blooms into colour as spring arrives. The sakura trees deliver a wave of bright pink and white petals offering shade from the early sun, acting as a herald of the seasons ahead. Not long after they appear the blossoms fade and fall, carried away on the wind, their beauty stripped for another year. Try as one might this is inevitable. The blossom is, as it should be, impermanent. If we stop, just for a moment to consider this cycle, it is easy to find feelings of sadness arise. That 'gut punch', the nausea that comes with it. The sudden urge to shed a tear. Blossoms fade, the last cord of the song will be played, relationships end, death claims those we love most - the moment ends. The desire is for control, for more, ever more, if we could but just another moment, another minute. One could easily give into a feeling of despair at such a feeling, to give into existential nihilism as a reason to disengage, to stop living. However, the beauty of mono no aware is that it invites us to do the very opposite. 

If we never experience cold, would we truly be able to appreciate warmth? If we never traverse the lowest valleys, or the longest flat plateaus, could we experience the rapture of the peaks? Without loneliness and distance, would companionship and intimacy be so engrossing? The answer, of course, is no. It is in the contrasts of life, the periods where are no longer without something that happiness arises. It may in fact form part of our definition of happiness - an absence of wanting. Having our needs met. Though there is much to be said of the opposite side of this coin - happiness in suffering and difficulty. Similarly, it is the cruel ephemerality of the moment, the experience, the thing that delivers the joy and the sorrow. They are inseparable.