{"id":60698,"date":"2026-04-20T15:04:51","date_gmt":"2026-04-20T19:04:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/?p=60698"},"modified":"2026-04-20T15:04:51","modified_gmt":"2026-04-20T19:04:51","slug":"the-invisible-flows-reactivating-another-way-of-knowing-to-integrate-the-inner-and-outer-ryuiki-part-3-of-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/2026\/04\/20\/the-invisible-flows-reactivating-another-way-of-knowing-to-integrate-the-inner-and-outer-ryuiki-part-3-of-3\/","title":{"rendered":"The Invisible Flows: Reactivating another way of knowing to Integrate the Inner and Outer Ryuiki (Part 3 of 3)"},"content":{"rendered":"
The question we face at this turning point of civilization is not how to interpret everything through the framework of modernity, nor whether we should return to the ways of the past.<\/blockquote><\/figure>\n

In Japan, a form of primordial animism has long existed: a sensibility that perceives mysterious power in stones, trees, and even mountains themselves, revering them as sacred presences. What is important is that many of these traditions are not merely religious beliefs, but forms of practical wisdom rooted in everyday life and in careful observation of nature.<\/p>\n

Iwakura\u2014Sacred Boulders<\/strong><\/p>\n

One example is the iwakura <\/em>(\u78d0\u5ea7)\u2014sacred boulders believed to be dwelling places of the kami. In many cases, these large stones stand near the water sources of a settlement and have been revered as protectors of springs and headwaters. Exposed bedrock such as iwakura works together with fungal mycelium and tree roots, drawing water upward from the ground through gravity-driven flows, supplying minerals, and creating rich ecological conditions in which large trees can flourish.<\/p>\n

The surfaces of exposed rock remain moist because of capillary action within cracks and joints in the stone, as well as the moisture retained by fungal networks that spread through them. Moss, root exudates, and fungal activity gradually dissolve the rock, releasing minerals. As a result, these rocky surfaces become ideal environments for seeds to germinate and for great trees to grow.<\/p>\n

The minerals released from the rock seep down along its base through rainwater and fungal pathways, where they are taken up by the deep roots of large trees and distributed through underground mycelial networks. In this way, nutrients circulate through the surrounding ecosystem, supporting a thriving web of life.<\/p>\n

Thus, the towering trees that stand upon great boulders are not there by accident. Ecologically speaking, they perform important functions and arise out of the very dynamics of the landscape.<\/p>\n

\"DiagramWhen the underground water cycle of the surrounding soil becomes disrupted, however, exposed rock begins to dry. The mycelial networks once woven through its joints disappear, and the rock can no longer maintain its moist environment. Fine roots that had spread through the stone die back, and during strong winds\u2014such as typhoons\u2014trees may topple away from the rock as if peeled from it.<\/p>\n

Without fungal networks, the cracks within exposed rock gradually clog, reducing both permeability and water-retention capacity. Weathering accelerates, and the rock itself begins to break down. The degradation of invisible underground environments can therefore lead, in surprisingly short periods of time, to the collapse not only of vegetation and habitats but even of bedrock and landforms themselves.<\/p>\n

Recent research has also revealed the importance of what is known as bedrock groundwater\u2014the movement of water within rock layers beneath the soil\u2014in maintaining the water-retention capacity of forest ecosystems. Even during periods of drought, water that has slowly migrated downward from the soil can continue to seep from the bedrock, helping to buffer the effects of water shortages and maintain the hydrological stability of mountain landscapes (Kameyama et al., 2025).<\/p>\n

The tradition of revering iwakura may have contained an intuitive understanding of these relationships: that great stones draw in water, collaborate with mycelium, moss, and trees, and together create the rich environments that nurture life.<\/p>\n

For this reason, people in the past likely protected these stones\u2014key nodes within ecological cycles\u2014as sacred places, ensuring that they were not trampled or disturbed, and offering quiet prayers in their presence.<\/p>\n

Seen from another perspective, the landslides, ground subsidence, and floods that have increasingly occurred across Japan in recent years may not simply be \u201cnatural disasters\u201d. They may also be the consequence of human actions that have severed the invisible connections within nature\u2014connections that once held landscapes, water, soil, and life together.<\/p>\n

\"Photo
The Iwakura at Mount Shichimen, overlooking Mount Fuji.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The Dragon<\/strong><\/p>\n

The reverence shown to iwakura<\/em> is echoed in other ways of perceiving nature as well. For instance, when clouds rise from the mountains during rainfall or just after the rain has passed, the swirling mist has long been worshipped as the presence of the dragon deity.<\/p>\n

In scientific terms, these are clouds formed through forest transpiration. Moisture released from tree canopies through transpiration and respiration increases humidity in the air. As this moisture-laden air moves upward along mountain slopes, it cools and condenses, forming cumulus clouds and drifting mountain mist.<\/p>\n

In a healthy forest ecosystem, tree roots draw water from deep underground, lifting it upward through their trunks and releasing it through tiny openings in their leaves. The moisture that rises from the forest becomes clouds and mist that gather around the mountainside, gently humidifying the landscape. Even during stretches without rainfall, this process helps keep the entire mountain environment moist.<\/p>\n

\"Photo
Photographed by the author on Yakushima Island. As moisture-laden air rises along the mountain slopes, it cools and condenses into clouds.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Since ancient times, such phenomena in which water circulates between heaven and earth have been understood through the image of the dragon and have become objects of reverence. Yet behind this faith likely lay something more practical: gratitude for the natural systems that sustained local life and livelihoods, and an awareness that if humans disrupted their balance, disaster\u2014understood as the dragon\u2019s anger or curse\u2014could follow.<\/p>\n

In this sense, such beliefs may have functioned as a kind of collective sensing system. Communities continually observed and responded to the shifting dynamics of their ryuiki, maintaining an embodied awareness of the living landscape. The ryuiki <\/em>(\u6d41\u57df) was also understood as ryuiki <\/em>(\u9f8d\u57df), the dragon\u2019s domain.<\/p>\n

Looking beyond Japan, similar insights are being rediscovered elsewhere. In California and Australia, catastrophic wildfires have led to renewed recognition of cultural burning practices maintained by Indigenous peoples for thousands of years. By introducing carefully managed, small-scale fires into ecosystems, these practices encouraged forest regeneration and prevented the buildup of fuel that leads to devastating wildfires.<\/p>\n

At AMBIENT AGENCY,<\/a> the Ecological Memes<\/em> forum I recently convened in Paris, a speaker cited an Indigenous elder in Australia who stated:<\/p>\n

\u201cThe land is waiting for fire\u201d.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Such words remind us that the wisdom cultivated by Indigenous communities\u2014through long relationships of attentiveness and kinship with the natural world\u2014is becoming urgently relevant once again.<\/p>\n

\"Diagram
The movements of water between earth and sky have long been revered as manifestations of the dragon deity.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Sugasugashisa\u2014The Sense of Clarity Inseparable from the World<\/strong><\/p>\n

Step through the torii gate and into the precinct of a Shinto shrine, and something within you settles\u2014a quiet clarity, a gentle sense of renewal. This sense is called sugasugashisa<\/em> in Japanese.<\/p>\n

A Shinto priest once told me:<\/p>\n

\u201cThe kami love clear, clean places.
\nThat is why we always keep them so.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Within the quiet grounds of a shrine, surrounded by stillness, sunlight filters softly through the trees. A cool breeze brushes the cheek. The rustling of leaves, the scent of earth, the faint presence of water mingles together. One often finds that the breath deepens without noticing, and the restless movements of the mind begin to settle.<\/p>\n

Shinto holds two important concepts: kegare <\/em>and harae<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Kegare is often translated as impurity, but its meaning is closer to a state in which ke<\/em>\u2014vital life force\u2014has withered or been depleted. It does not simply refer to physical dirt; illness, injury, exhaustion, or emotional disturbance can also be forms of kegare\u2014conditions in which body and spirit fall out of balance. Harae refers to the rituals through which this vitality is restored. Through prayer and ceremony, the diminished life force is renewed.<\/p>\n

The waterfall practice mentioned at the beginning of this essay is one such act of purification. The priest who guided me once said:<\/p>\n

\u201cTo cleanse one\u2019s own impurity is to cleanse the world.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

In other words, the self is not separate from the world. The world is within the self, and the self within the world.<\/p>\n

Yet it may be that those of us living in modern society are gradually losing this sense of sugasugashisa\u2014<\/em>a quiet clarity and freshness of spirit inseparable from the world. Amid the noise of cities, the constant stream of information, and the relentless pursuit of efficiency and convenience in human-centered systems, our senses grow dull. The vitality of body and mind slowly withers. Many of the illnesses that mark our age\u2014depression, anxiety, chronic fatigue\u2014may not be unrelated to this condition of kegare, the exhaustion of life force.<\/p>\n

Seen in this way, sugasugashisa<\/em> is not merely a feeling or emotion. It is a sign that a deeper rhythm of life\u2014one that exceeds the individual self\u2014is in balance. Shrines, then, may be understood as cultural devices: places where people replenish vitality through connection with the unseen world, and where human beings are reminded that they live as part of the great ryuiki of life in which all things resonate together.<\/p>\n

Across Lake Shinji from Sada Grand Shrine, where the gods of Japan are said to gather during the sacred tenth month of the traditional calendar, stands another shrine called Suga Shrine.<\/p>\n

According to legend, after Susanoo subdued the Yamata no Orochi and was united with Kushinadahime, he searched for a place to build a new home. When he arrived at this spot, he exclaimed:<\/p>\n

\u201cMy heart feels clear and at ease (sugasugashii<\/em>) here.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Because of those words, the place was named Suga, and the phrase is often considered one of the origins of the word sugasugashii.<\/p>\n

What is interesting is that Susanoo, who at the beginning of many myths appears as a violent and unruly deity, gradually emerges as a figure embodying both wildness and clarity.<\/p>\n

As we have seen in the preceding chapters, Susanoo represents a visiting deity who brought new technologies and knowledge\u2014a symbolic figure of civilization itself. Yet many myths also depict him as a troublemaker among the gods, disrupting the existing order. New technologies and knowledge often destabilize existing systems. Used only for private gain, they can easily bring calamity or curse. That is why Susanoo does not become \u201cclear\u201d simply by acquiring his benefit. Only when he subdues the Yamata no Orochi and saves Kushinadahime\u2014only when he dedicates himself to others and the community\u2014does he truly become sugasugashii.<\/p>\n

\"Photo
Susanoo composed the oldest waka poem in Japan on Mount Yakumo<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Shrines and Chinju no Mori<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Today, Japan is home to more than 80,000 shrines.<\/p>\n

Shrines are typically accompanied by chinju no mori<\/em>, sacred guardian forests. Many are located at ecologically and geographically significant points\u2014fault lines, river confluences, or locations where landscapes bend, and energies converge. It is well known that the distribution of shrines across Japan often aligns with the Median Tectonic Line and other major geological structures. These places may have been revered as sacred not only to calm the energies rising from the earth, but also to ensure that humans would not disturb fragile ecological nodes.<\/p>\n

The naturalist Minakata Kumagusu, who fiercely opposed the Meiji-era policy of shrine consolidation that destroyed countless local shrines and chinju no mori, warned that their loss would threaten not only natural ecosystems but also the cultural and spiritual foundations of society.<\/p>\n

He wrote:<\/p>\n

\u201cThe natural landscapes unique to our country are the very mandalas of our land.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The religious philosopher Kamata Toji (1951\u20132025) stated that the essence of Shinto cannot be understood without an aesthetic sensibility. He suggested that when one steps into a shrine precinct and encounters its quiet clarity and solemn atmosphere, a certain posture begins to take shape\u2014 an aesthetic way of being, and a readiness to face a world that extends beyond anthropocentrism.<\/p>\n

This sensibility at the heart of Shinto\u2014something that might be described as a Japanese sense of wonder\u2014is often overlooked by those who live within it, precisely because of its familiarity. Yet, it is sometimes perceived more vividly by those arriving from elsewhere. Lafcadio Hearn (Koizumi Yakumo)\u2014born in Greece, raised in Ireland, and later a researcher of Japanese culture\u2014was surely one such figure. He came to share this sensibility, finding the \u201cworkings of kami\u201d in all things and describing it as \u201csomething in the very air\u201d. It may be that memories of polytheistic Greece and Celtic traditions resonated within him.<\/p>\n

If shrines are instruments that reconnect us with the unseen world\u2014spaces that reopen our resonance with nature and restore the clarity of life\u2014then perhaps it is time for us to rediscover the meaning of this ancient wisdom.<\/p>\n

Today, we find ourselves living through another great civilizational turning point, as new geopolitical upheavals and emerging technologies such as AI transform the world around us at unprecedented speed, calling into question what it means to be human on this planet. Perhaps what is most needed now is to once again confront the meaning of this quality we call \u201csugasugashisa\u201d.<\/p>\n

\"Photo
Hinomisaki Shrine in Izumo, where Lafcadio Hearn sensed the spirit of Japanese mythology and wrote of its beauty. Photo: Yasuhiro Kobayashi<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Tracing Inner Ryuiki<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ancient faiths and indigenous knowledge are often dismissed as unscientific. Yet we live in a time when cutting-edge science is beginning to rediscover precisely such forms of wisdom. Just as discussions in Buddhist philosophy and quantum physics sometimes appear to converge, modern scientific inquiry is increasingly catching up with insights long embedded in traditional knowledge.<\/p>\n

The question we face at this turning point of civilization is not how to interpret everything through the framework of modernity, nor whether we should return to the ways of the past. Rather, the question is whether we can learn to hold different forms of knowing and different intellectual systems together, allowing them to coexist and inform one another.<\/p>\n

In this respect, the traditional Japanese understanding of ryuiki <\/em>offers something worth learning from. Over time, diverse values and cultures accumulated within the archipelago, layered without erasing what came before. For those of us living on the fraying edges of modern civilization, the question becomes: what will we receive, and what will we pass on to future generations?<\/p>\n

The Jungian psychologist Kawai Hayao, in his influential book The Hollow Center: Japan\u2019s Deep Structure, observed that a distinctive feature of traditional Japanese thought and social structure lies in what he called the \u201chollow center (chuku).\u201d<\/p>\n

In Japanese mythology, such as the narratives found in the Kojiki, opposing deities often play central roles. Yet, alongside these opposing forces, there frequently appears a third presence\u2014a deity who does nothing. This figure enters the narrative but remains inactive, functioning as an empty space that holds the tension between the other two in balance and enables a new flow to emerge.<\/p>\n

For example, Susanoo is the younger brother of Amaterasu, the supreme deity of Takamagahara, enshrined at Ise Shrine. Their sibling Tsukuyomi, however\u2014who should complete the triad\u2014barely appears in the myths at all. Kawai suggested that this structure, in which two opposing forces are held in dynamic equilibrium by a third \u201cempty\u201d presence, forms a fundamental pattern underlying Japanese mythology.<\/p>\n

Indeed, the relationship between Amaterasu and Susanoo cannot be understood through a simple binary of good versus evil or victory versus defeat. Neither side is defined as the absolute center. Instead, the two maintain a dynamic balance, constantly adjusting toward what might be called a good measure.<\/p>\n

This way of thinking\u2014one that moves beyond rigid moral binaries\u2014appears throughout Japanese culture. In Hayao Mi\u00e5yazaki\u2019s Nausica\u00e4 of the Valley of the Wind, a character asks:<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy couldn\u2019t they see that purity and pollution are both part of life?\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Likewise, the global phenomenon Demon Slayer is not ultimately a story of defeating absolute evil. Rather, it tells of demons who were once human\u2014people shaped by suffering and circumstance\u2014and of bringing peace to the demon that lives within us all.<\/p>\n

Perhaps the experience that logos\u2014the rational intellect that separates and categorizes\u2014finds hardest to grasp is life itself: the lived reality of being alive.<\/p>\n

Yet, many of the modern social and economic systems that govern our world have been designed as though this fundamental complexity did not exist, constructed like machines based on a logic that divides and simplifies.<\/p>\n

The naturalist Minakata Kumagusu recognized this problem early on. He warned against the excesses of industrial civilization and modern scholarship built upon the logic of division. In the wandering life of the slime mold\u2014an organism that seems to slip effortlessly across the boundary between life and death\u2014he glimpsed a philosophical image of the deeper truth of the world.<\/p>\n

In contrast to logos, the philosophical logic that acknowledges the space between things\u2014the relationships that cannot be divided\u2014is sometimes described as lemma philosophy. It is a way of understanding the world grounded in ideas such as soe sotai (mutual dependence) and engi (dependent origination), in which all phenomena arise through interconnected conditions.<\/p>\n

This mode of thinking was articulated by N\u0101g\u0101rjuna, the founder of Mah\u0101y\u0101na Buddhist philosophy, in the M\u016blamadhyamakak\u0101rik\u0101, and later explored in Japan by the philosopher Yamauchi Tokuryu in his work Logos and Lemma.<\/p>\n

Within the foundations of Japanese culture and philosophy lies a sensitivity to this \u201cin-between\u201d space called aida<\/em>\u2014an ability to let differences remain different, while perceiving the connection between the visible world (utsushi-yo<\/em>, the manifest realm) and the invisible world (kakuriyo<\/em>, the hidden realm). Rather than forcing opposites into conflict, this perspective allows diverse and even contradictory elements to encounter each other and circulate in dynamic balance.<\/p>\n

\"Photo<\/p>\n

\"Photo
Dissolving the Self into a flow of Kinoe River in Mount Daisen<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

As the poetry of the Man\u2019yoshu<\/em> shows, people in Japan have long seen the movement of rivers and water flow as mirrors of the movement of the human heart.<\/p>\n

Asukagiwa \/ kawayodo sarazu \/ tatsu kiri no \/ omoi sugubeki \/ koi ni aranaku ni<\/em><\/p>\n

On the Asuka River
\nmist rises endlessly
\nfrom the quiet pools\u2014
\nand this love within me
\ncannot simply pass away.<\/p>\n

\u2014 Man\u2019yoshu<\/em>, Book 3, Poem 325
\nYamabe no Akahito<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

In this poem, the court poet Yamabe no Akahito overlays the lingering stillness of a river pool and the mist rising from its surface with the lingering weight of love and sorrow in the human heart. The movement of water and the movement of emotion become one.<\/p>\n

When we begin to experience ryuiki not merely as a hydrological watershed, but as a living network of geography, climate, culture, economy, and ecology\u2014a place where human beings and nature continuously shape one another\u2014we may rediscover the flowing vitality of life within ourselves.<\/p>\n

The theme of this series\u2014Ryuiki Awareness\u2014is precisely the capacity to sense the constantly changing, dynamic wholeness of life, and to recognize ourselves as part of the workings of all things. Going forward, as I continue to explore the Ryuiki Dynamics in regions not only across Japan but around the world, I hope to seek out the clues and practices needed to reweave our socio-economic systems\u2014our sense of self, the fertility of the soil, our relationships with other beings, and even the ways we organize economic and corporate activities\u2014drawing on the fluidity and joy of life.<\/p>\n

As a first step in this endeavor, Ecological Memes, together with partners in Japan and abroad, will host the International Ryuiki Forum, along with a series of immersion programs in Daisen and Kyoto in October 2026. An online series of talks leading up to the forum has also begun, and I warmly invite those who feel called to join this shared journey of exploration.<\/p>\n

Read Parts 1<\/a> & 2<\/a><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n

Where do we come from, and where are we heading?
\nWhere does the water come from, and where does it flow?
\nWhat are we, truly\u2014and by what are we sustained?<\/p>\n

Today, too, the water keeps flowing.<\/p>\n

Yasuhiro Kobayashi<\/strong>
\nTokyo<\/p>\n

On The Nature of Cities<\/a><\/p>\n

Upcoming Online Talks: Ryuiki Gatherings vol.1-5<\/strong><\/p>\n

A new online talk series on ‘Ryuiki’ is starting on April 22nd. I warmly invite those who feel called to join us in this shared journey of exploration.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
\"Promotional
Ryuiki gathering is an international, transdisciplinary platform focused on reweaving human-nature interrelationality from the Ryuiki perspective.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u30fcApril 22nd (Wed) 12:00 \u2013 14:00 (BST) \/ 13:00 \u2013 15:00 (CEST) \/ 20:00 \u2013 22:00 (JST)<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Why Water Matters: Re-imagining Human-Nature Reciprocity in the Era of Poly-crisis<\/div>\n
\u6c34\u3092\u3081\u3050\u308b\u529b\u5b66\uff1a\u8907\u5408\u5371\u6a5f\u306e\u6642\u4ee3\u306b\u304a\u3051\u308b\u4eba\u9593\u3068\u81ea\u7136\u306e\u76f8\u4e92\u4f5c\u7528\u6027\u3092\u518d\u8003\u3059\u308b<\/div>\n
Guest: Janice Li \/ Curator (London)<\/div>\n
https:\/\/www.eventbrite.com\/e\/why-water-matters-re-imagining-human-nature-reciprocity-tickets-1986535132056<\/a><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u30fcMay 22nd (Fri) 13:00 \u2013 15:00 (CEST) \/ 20:00 \u2013 22:00 (JST)<\/div>\n
Caring for Watershed Ecologies: Learning from Place-based Mythologies and Landscape Regeneration Practices through Contemporary Arts<\/div>\n
\uff08\u591a\u611f\u899a\u306e\u6c34\u8fba\uff1a\u7a2e\u3092\u8d85\u3048\u305f\u30b1\u30a2\u306e\u5834\u3068\u3057\u3066\u306e\u6d41\u57df\u3068\u82b8\u8853\uff09<\/div>\n
Guest: Carmen Bouyer \/ Environmental Artist (Paris)<\/div>\n
https:\/\/www.eventbrite.com\/e\/caring-for-watershed-ecologies-place-based-mythologies-and-regeneration-tickets-1986702444492<\/a><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u30fcJune 16th (Tue) 12:00 \u2013 14:00 (CEST) \/ 19:00 \u2013 21:00 (JST)<\/div>\n
Ancestral Flows in Japan: Re-activating Animistic Landscape and Awareness in the Layered Archipelago<\/div>\n
\u65e5\u672c\u306e\u7cbe\u795e\u6027\u3068\u5185\u306a\u308b\u6d41\u57df\uff1a\u7a4d\u5c64\u3059\u308b\u65e5\u672c\u6587\u5316\u306e\u539f\u98a8\u666f\u3068\u611f\u5fdc\u7f8e\u3092\u6c42\u3081\u3066<\/div>\n
Guest: Everett Kennedy Brown \/ Artist, Writer (Japan\/US)<\/div>\n
https:\/\/www.eventbrite.com\/e\/ancestral-flows-in-japan-re-activating-animistic-landscape-awareness-tickets-1986909595085<\/a><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u30fcJuly 9th (Thu) 11:00 \u2013 13:00 (BST) \/ 19:00 \u2013 21:00 (JST)<\/div>\n
Decolonizing Leadership: Indigenous Wisdom and Regenerative Business as a Songline of Land and Water<\/div>\n
\u6c34\u3068\u5927\u5730\u306e\u8a18\u61b6\uff1a\u5148\u4f4f\u6c11\u306e\u77e5\u6075\u306b\u5b66\u3076\u30d3\u30b8\u30cd\u30b9\u3068\u30ea\u30fc\u30c0\u30fc\u30b7\u30c3\u30d7<\/div>\n
Guest: Jannine Barron \/ Regenerative Business Mentor (UK\/Australia)<\/div>\n
https:\/\/www.eventbrite.co.uk\/e\/decolonizing-leadership-indigenous-wisdom-and-regenerative-business-tickets-1987413409006<\/a><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\u30fcAugust 4th (Tue) 12:00 \u2013 14:00 (CEST) \/ 18:00 \u2013 20:00 (Bali) \/ 19:00 \u2013 21:00 (JST)<\/div>\n
Regenerating Tourism as a Ryuiki Journey: Ancient Wisdom and More-than-Human Connectivity in Bali<\/div>\n
\u6d41\u57df\u306b\u6839\u3056\u3057\u305f\u518d\u751f\u578b\u30c4\u30fc\u30ea\u30ba\u30e0\u306e\u53ef\u80fd\u6027\u3092\u63a2\u308b\uff1a\u30d0\u30ea\u306e\u571f\u7740\u4fe1\u4ef0\u3068\u68ee\u91cc\u5ddd\u6d77\u306e\u9023\u74b0<\/div>\n
Guest: Wira \/ Impact Entrepreneur \uff08Bali)<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

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In Japan, a form of primordial animism has long existed: a sensibility that perceives mysterious power in stones, trees, and even mountains themselves, revering them as sacred presences. What is important is that many of these traditions are not merely religious beliefs, but forms of practical wisdom rooted in everyday life and in careful observation […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1477,"featured_media":60704,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1129,273,298,299],"tags":[47,49,649,34,62],"coauthors":[1854],"class_list":["post-60698","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-asia","category-essay","category-essay-people-and-communitites","category-essay-place-and-design","tag-asia","tag-communities","tag-educationknowledgelearning","tag-experiencing-nature","tag-water"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/60698","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1477"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=60698"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/60698\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":60715,"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/60698\/revisions\/60715"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/60704"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=60698"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=60698"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=60698"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thenatureofcities.com\/TNOC\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=60698"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}