How Japanese Culture Taught Me to Be Still
Photo by Nina Fiedler from Pexels.
When I came to Japan, I found myself thinking deeply about how Japanese culture taught me to be still.
I come from a culture where expressiveness and warmth are a kind of social currency. Then I landed in Japan—where composure, emotional attunement to atmosphere, and silence often say more than words. Ironically, Japanese people tend to expect foreigners to be more expressive or even loud by their standards.
When stillness became confrontation
At first, the silence here felt refreshing—a kind of haven. But slowly, it began pressing inward. The quiet began to mirror my inner chaos, insecurities, and unresolved emotions. It felt like I was being cornered, slipping into quicksand, desperately trying to grasp anything solid.
Thankfully, during this time, I was surrounded by a small circle of reliable and faithful people. So while I wasn’t spiraling out of control, I still needed an anchor. I clung to the only person I knew—God. At first, I came with clumsy expectations rooted in self-interest. But over time, through prayer and an imperfect Christian walk, I found myself reckoning with stillness.
The Kind of Stillness Japan Holds
Image by Sunil Poodle Pexels.
Unlike back home — where neighbors drop by, families hover around, and someone always shares their farm harvest — Japan holds you in solitude. As a foreigner, before you find grounding here, you must make peace with yourself.
Even my wonderful Japanese friend, a globe-trotter, admitted that she prefers India — she longs for its noisy, human energy. She once lived there for seven years and told me, “I love the atmosphere — the sounds, the people, the warmth.”
That’s how deep and confronting the stillness in Japan can be.
Learning to Be Still while Living in Japan
This wasn’t easy. I grappled, I strived, I fought, and I retreated—because for the first time, I was face to face with my inner strife, and there was no running from it.
Back home, I would’ve distracted myself with the warmth of family or friends. But here, there was no buffer.
I wouldn’t call it depression. It was more like meeting my true self—mirrored back to me in the quiet.
What I saw:
- My craving for validation
- My fear of being alone abroad
- My lack of self-care and love
- My performative humility masking shame
- My overall lack of centeredness
I was like a ship floating without a radar, just coasting toward whatever came next.
But gradually, I committed myself to fellowship. I joined a Bible study group with people more versed in scripture and steadier in life than I. I was humble enough to be a learner. I made meaningful connections with people who value peace, dignity, and faith.
Eventually, the fog began to lift. I realized I didn’t have to fix everything with my own strength. Something—someone—was working behind the scenes. And that someone was God.
Christian Insights from Japanese Culture
Stillness Can Refine You — If You Let It
Everyone has unique experiences when living abroad. I’m grateful mine refined me into more grace.
Japan—a land of temples, cherry blossoms, sushi, poetic seasons, dapper men, and charming women—has forged something new in me.
- It made me pause.
- It taught me to notice the small joys.
- It shifted my focus from external validation to inner clarity.
- It drew me back to my center.
Japan was stillness. But with courage, I became the stillness it challenged me to embrace.
God in the Quiet: A Closer Look at Psalm 46:10
Psalm 46:10 is often quoted, but rarely unpacked. Let’s break it down:
1. “Be still” — רָפוּ (raphu)
Let go.
Cease striving.
This isn’t about doing nothing. It’s about surrendering frantic control and acknowledging God’s sovereignty.
2. “And know” — וּדְעוּ (ude’u)
Know intimately.
Encounter deeply.
This is more than head knowledge—it’s soul awareness.
3. “That I am God” — כִּי אָנֹכִי אֱלֹהִים (ki anochi Elohim)
He’s not just a god—He is THE GOD.
Self-existent. Supreme. Sovereign.
The One who ends wars and stills chaos (Psalm 46:9).
Stillness Is Strength
In a reactive world, stillness is power.
When slandered, silence reveals who’s truly stable.
When baited, emotional restraint dismantles manipulation.
When chaos surrounds you, spiritual stillness becomes a shield.
Stillness is a form of spiritual warfare.
You don’t always win by fighting harder.
Sometimes, you win by aligning with divine power.
In chaos, God is saying:
“Let Me take the throne—you take a seat.”
And when you embrace this, you become calm in a frantic world. An emotional anchor.
Stillness Compounds — Painfully at First
Let’s be real: stillness costs you in the short term.
- It strips your need to perform.
- It makes you feel naked.
- It feels like falling behind while others charge ahead.
- It can look like weakness in politically charged environments.
But over time:
- You’ll stop needing external affirmation.
- You’ll become at home in your own presence.
- You’ll protect your peace.
- You’ll see the traps designed for ungrounded people.
- You’ll align with others who live with intentional restraint.
Stillness becomes your sanctuary.
And that sanctuary deserves protection.
How God Speaks in the Quiet Moments
This is how Japanese culture taught me to be still: Embracing the quiet.
So, dear solo mama—
- Take 5 minutes today. Where do you need to stop striving?”
Let’s help each other build a life that honors stillness.
A life where we no longer need to strive to matter, perform to be seen, or chase peace outside ourselves—because true peace is found in the quiet where God says:
“Be still and know that I am God.” – Psalm 46:10
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