The Gentle Strength of January: Seven Herbs and Mirror Rice Cakes
Life in Japan – Issue 010
First, I would like to express my gratitude. From the end of last year through the New Year, many new readers have joined this community. Thank you so much.
At Spiritual Japan Journal, we generally deliver in-depth articles diving into a specific topic on Tuesdays, and this “Life in Japan” series on Saturdays, capturing the atmosphere of Japan for the week. As an exception, if there is something timely I wish to share, I may change the schedule or send out an “extra edition” on a different day. When that happens, please enjoy the fresh information.
Now, in this Saturday edition, rather than textbook explanations, I aim to share the real, relaxed atmosphere of Japan today.
This week in Japan, “Matsunouchi” (松の内)—the period during which the New Year’s god, “Toshigami-sama” (年神様), is said to stay in each home—has come to an end. Decorations meant to welcome the god, such as “Kadomatsu” (門松: pine decorations) and “Shimenawa” (注連縄: sacred ropes), have been cleared from the streets. (*For more details on the deep meaning and roles of Kadomatsu and Shimenawa, I introduced them in a previous article. If you haven’t read it yet, please check it out here [Link to previous article].)
The special festive atmosphere of the New Year has paused, and our lives are returning to a quiet daily routine.
Also, on the calendar, we have entered the season called “Kan” (寒). The kanji for this can also be read as “samui,” meaning “cold.” This marks the season when the cold becomes most severe. In this period, when the dignified, crisp cold air stings the skin, we need to pause once to realign our minds and bodies, which are tired from the New Year’s feasts.
In this week’s Life in Japan, I will talk about “two important rituals” we perform to spend the coming year in good health, and the “quiet prayers” imbued within them.
Before getting to the main topic, I must touch upon an event that occurred in Japan this week.
On January 6th, an earthquake occurred in western Japan, centered in Shimane and Tottori prefectures and affecting the surrounding regions. Some readers may know the place name “Izumo” (出雲) in Shimane Prefecture. It is a very sacred place where gods from all over Japan are said to gather.
However, even in a place long regarded as sacred, nature does not act according to human wishes. I would like to offer my deepest sympathies to those affected. Fortunately, large tremors are subsiding, but small aftershocks continue, and local residents are spending their days in anxiety. I pray that peaceful days will be restored as soon as possible.
We Japanese have lived with natural disasters like earthquakes and typhoons since ancient times. We do not consider nature as something humans can control. While nature gives us beautiful blessings, it sometimes threatens our lives with terrifying force. We accept both sides and live with a sense of awe.
That is precisely why we know how miraculous a “normal day” is. And occasionally, we join our hands in prayer to the gods, strongly wishing for “Mubyo-sokusai” (無病息災).
Note: Mubyo-sokusai signifies a state of “sound health (Mubyo) and safety from calamity (Sokusai),” wishing for a life free from illness and misfortune.
The two events I will introduce today are also forms of our earnest prayers.
January 7th “Nanakusa-gayu”: Taking Nature’s Vitality into the Body
With such prayers in mind, on the morning of January 7th, there is a custom in Japan to eat a special breakfast called “Nanakusa-gayu” (七草粥).
Literally, this is rice porridge containing seven types of herbs (Spring’s Seven Herbs) that sprout in the spring. Historically, this event is called “Jinjitsu no Sekku” (人日の節句), but for us in modern times, it may have a more practical meaning.
The first reason is the wisdom of living. During the New Year, we continue to eat feasts such as “Osechi” (おせち) cuisine, rice cakes, “Mochi” (餅), and sake. We let our overworked stomachs rest with easy-to-digest warm porridge.
The second is a spiritual reason. The seven types of herbs used here (such as water dropwort and shepherd’s purse) are plants that sprout powerfully from under the snow even in the severe cold of winter. By eating that porridge, we take the sturdy “vitality” of the plants into our bodies and wish to spend this year in good health without illness.
As January 7th approaches, “Nanakusa sets” (七草セット)—convenient packs of these herbs—are piled up in Japanese supermarkets. While people used to pick herbs in the fields in the past, buying them in packs is common today. This, too, is a real scene of modern Japan.
I also bought a pack at the supermarket and made Nanakusa-gayu. The sound of rice simmering gently, and the gentle scent of young grass spreading in the kitchen.
The vivid green of the herbs floating in the pure white porridge makes me feel healthy from the bottom of my heart just by looking at it. The seasoning differs slightly for each family, but I finish it with a light taste using “Dashi” (出汁: soup stock) and salt, as taught by my mother. While savoring it carefully, I prayed for Mubyo-sokusai for this year
.
January 11th “Kagami-biraki”: Tradition and Modern Ingenuity
After resting the body, we take new power into it. That is “Kagami-biraki” (鏡開き: Mirror Opening), which takes place on January 11th.
During the New Year, we displayed “Kagami-mochi” (鏡餅: Mirror Rice Cakes)—round rice cakes stacked on top of each other—as a place for Toshigami-sama to stay in the house. After the god leaves, we lower the rice cakes where the spirit resided and eat them to take the god’s power into our own bodies.
What is interesting here is the word “Biraki” (開き: Opening). When breaking the hardened rice cake into smaller pieces, we do not use knives or blades. Because blades remind us of “Seppuku” (切腹: ritual suicide) and pointing a blade at something sacred is considered rude, the traditional method is to break it with a wooden mallet, “Kizuchi” (木槌), or chip it with hands. We also avoid the word “Waru” (割る: Break) and use the auspicious word “Hiraku” (開く: Open), which implies spreading out or blooming.
However, in modern Japan, breaking a large rice cake that has dried rock-hard with a wooden mallet is actually a very difficult task. Fragments scatter, and sometimes mold grows.
That represents the appearance of the modern version of Kagami-mochi. Around the time Kagami-mochi lines up in supermarkets, what lines up even more than the real thing is “plastic containers shaped like Kagami-mochi.” They look exactly like traditional, solemn white rice cakes, but when you peel off the film on the bottom, individually wrapped square cut rice cakes, “Kiri-mochi” (切り餅), are inside.
With this, it is hygienic without molding, and there is no need to hit it with a wooden mallet. You can eat it immediately just by taking it out of the container. To me, this reflects a uniquely Japanese approach—preserving the beauty of the traditional form while rationally updating the “contents” to fit our modern lifestyle.
Even with a plastic container, the feeling of gratitude we put into it does not change. The smaller rice cakes are eaten in “Oshiruko” (お汁粉), a sweet red bean soup, or in “Ozoni” (お雑煮: savory soup) or as grilled mochi.
I think mochi is popular among people overseas too. Have you ever eaten it?
Teaser for Next Week: The City Blooms for “Coming of Age Day”
Even after Nanakusa-gayu and Kagami-biraki are over, Japan’s January is not over yet. Coming up on January 12th (Monday) is a national holiday, “Coming of Age Day” (成人の日).
From this weekend through Monday, you may see young people wearing gorgeous “Furisode” (振袖: long-sleeved kimonos) on the news or SNS. Why do they wear those kimonos with long sleeves for the Coming of Age ceremony? Contained there is not just fashion, but deep parental love and historical meaning.
In next week’s newsletter, I will dig deep into this “Furisode” and “Coming of Age Day” with beautiful photos of kimonos. Please look forward to it.
There is a lot of unsettling news in both Japan and overseas, and worries never cease, but I wish you all a peaceful week.
—Written by Sumire
Thanks for sharing the meaning behind and how these traditions managed to evolved + innovate overtime. Happy New Year!
I really like how Japan can update certain aspects of its practice, such as the mirror rice cake example you mentioned. It preserves the spirit and aesthetics of the practice while adjusting the mechanism to be more practical. I think this is something all religions and cultures do to an extent, which keeps things relevant while preserving the core tradition.