ANCIENT JAPANESE INSPIRATION

# Japanese Inspiration: From Reverence to Reciprocity

What can a bow at a shrine entrance—and a forest planted for future generations—teach us about the way we enter, experience and care for forests?

Japanese traditions offer meaningful examples of how respect for a place can become something we physically express. A pause, a bow or a carefully considered act of care can give shape to a relationship that might otherwise remain an unspoken feeling.

At Universe Mindfulness, we find inspiration in these expressions of reverence. They encourage us to consider how forest therapy can bring together the wellbeing we receive from nature and the responsibility we feel towards the living places that support us.

## The threshold: giving respect a physical expression

At a Shinto shrine, the torii gate marks the boundary between everyday surroundings and sacred space. Jinja Honcho, the Association of Shinto Shrines, explains that many visitors pause and bow slightly before passing through it. This gesture acknowledges the significance of the place they are entering.

Respect also finds expression at departure. Samukawa-jinja’s guidance invites visitors to turn towards the shrine building and bow before leaving through the torii. Arrival and farewell are both occasions for acknowledging a relationship with the sacred place and the kami honoured there. These gestures belong to Shinto religious practice, with meanings that extend beyond their outward appearance.

For us, the pause at the threshold is especially meaningful. It offers a moment to become aware of our presence: how we arrive, what we bring with us, and how we intend to behave.

This resonates with our own forest therapy portal practice, in which we invite participants to pause and ask permission to enter the forest. We offer this as an invitation to attention, humility and respect. Each person can approach it through their own beliefs and understanding.

Before taking another step, we begin to consider the forest as a living community whose home we are entering. Our presence becomes part of that encounter—and with it comes the possibility of contributing to the place’s care.

## Meiji Jingu: planting beyond a human lifetime

In Tokyo, the forest surrounding Meiji Jingu offers a compelling example of planning for people and living communities far into the future.

Established alongside the shrine in 1920, this approximately 70-hectare forest was created through donated trees and the work of around 110,000 volunteers. Its planners considered how the woodland would develop over the following 100 to 200 years. What visitors encounter today grew from decisions made by people who would never see its full maturity.

Meiji Jingu describes the original ambition as creating a forest capable of renewing itself. Forestry knowledge and long-term commitment were brought together to establish the conditions for that continuing renewal.

The shrine’s account of its forest also describes fallen trees being left to return to the soil. Within this sacred woodland, the end of a tree’s standing life remains part of the forest’s ongoing life.

We find a profound expression of stewardship here: acting now with a future in mind that reaches beyond our own lives. It asks us to consider what we are helping to make possible for those who come afterwards.

## What reverence asks of us

These examples bring us back to a practical question:

If we approach a forest as sacred, how should that change the way we behave within it—and the care we offer after we leave?

For us, sacredness carries a sense of belonging, reverence and responsibility. It invites us to recognise that a place has significance beyond what it provides for us.

A bow can express that recognition. So can choosing where to step, respecting a protected area, or adjusting an activity because the ground is fragile. The meaning of a gesture becomes more substantial when it influences our decisions.

In forest therapy, this means making room for the forest’s needs alongside those of our participants. Before inviting people into an activity, we can ask what the place can accommodate. Before collecting natural materials, we can consider what should remain undisturbed. When we plan repeated visits, we can pay attention to the effects of returning to the same small area.

Stewardship begins with learning enough about a place to offer appropriate care. Sometimes that involves action; sometimes it calls for restraint.

## Could caring deepen the experience of belonging?

There is another question we continue to explore in our own guiding:

How might our next forest therapy experience change once we have begun caring for the forest ourselves?

We may initially arrive seeking calm, relief, connection or a little space to breathe. As a relationship develops, we may begin to notice more of the place itself: its seasonal changes, its vulnerabilities, and the many forms of life continuing around us.

Returning after an act of care may carry a different meaning. We come back knowing that we have accepted some responsibility for this place’s future. Our gratitude has found an expression beyond the moment in which we felt it.

We believe this can deepen the experience of belonging. We offer that as a perspective arising from our practice and reflection, rather than a measured outcome or a promise that everyone will feel the same.

Nor does anyone need to earn the right to receive comfort from nature. The invitation is to allow that comfort to open into concern, and concern into whatever care we are able to offer.

For us, reciprocity brings another dimension to forest therapy: the feeling that our presence can matter to the forest’s future, just as the forest matters to our wellbeing.

## Bringing the inspiration into practice

For guides and participants, this relationship can take simple, concrete forms:

- At arrival: pause and consider how to enter with curiosity, respect and awareness of the place’s needs.

- During the walk: allow local guidance and ecological conditions to shape where the group goes and what it does.

- At departure: acknowledge what the experience has offered, and consider one realistic way to respond with care.

- Between visits: support an appropriate local conservation effort, learn from the people responsible for the woodland, or take part in an organised stewardship activity.

- On returning: notice what has changed in the forest—and whether caring for it has changed the quality of your attention.

The appropriate response will differ from one forest to another. Listening to local knowledge is part of the relationship.

## Learning with respect

The traditions described here have their own histories, communities and religious meanings. We acknowledge them as sources of inspiration for our practice. Our forest threshold invitation is our own approach, informed by reflection on these examples.

Meiji Jingu’s forest is also a twentieth-century creation, although it belongs within a much older religious tradition. Its example shows how an inherited sense of reverence can find expression in a deliberate commitment to the future.

What stays with us is the connection between a small gesture and a lasting responsibility. We can pause before entering. We can turn back in gratitude when we leave. And we can carry that relationship into the choices we make afterwards.

The forest will continue living beyond our visit. Our care can continue beyond it, too.