I enjoy writing about my travels through the lens of a death doula and educator. It helps me to learn about different rituals, bring them back to my clients and students in the U.S., and broaden my understanding of the important work we do together. In this column, I’ll discuss my favorite three things about Japan and how they contribute to healthier aging and mental health, which helps all of us die with grace.
Let’s explore the beauty and wisdom behind three unique contributions to the world made by people from this lovely country.
Grief Phones
Grief phones began with the Wind Phone (風の電話, Kaze no Denwa), created in 2010 by Itaru Sasaki. He lived in Otsuchi, a town devastated by the 2011 tsunami and earthquake.
Sasaki set up a phone booth as a personal means to cope with his cousin’s death. The unconnected rotary phone in his garden allowed him to speak with his cousin symbolically, expressing emotions he couldn’t otherwise verbalize.
After the tsunami, which claimed over 15,000 lives, the booth became a refuge for others seeking solace. Thousands of people traveled to Otsuchi to use the Wind Phone. They found a way to externalize their grief by speaking to their loved ones as if the phone could connect them to the beyond.
The Wind Phone represents the genuine need for connection after a sudden loss. It’s such a human need to seek resolution, even if we know we might not ever truly find it. Although the phone is not actually connected, the act of speaking into it is profoundly therapeutic.
It helps people process their grief in a tangible way.
A grief or wind phone also plays into Japanese cultural notions of honoring the deceased through communication. This is akin to Buddhist and Shinto practices of speaking to ancestors. And it’s catching on around the world.
Global Influence and Adoption
You can find grief phones in places like Oakland, California, and other American cities. Artists and activists often set up phones in public spaces as part of art installations or community grief projects. These phones provide a non-traditional way for people to voice their feelings to deceased or absent loved ones.
Similar artists have set up installations in the UK and elsewhere, where community projects allow people to “send messages” to lost loved ones. It’s an evolution of public art that intersects with mental health and mourning practices.
With the rise of digital technology, some people have turned to voicemail services, apps, or even social media as virtual grief phones. They leave messages for those they’ve lost. These platforms provide a modern space for the same kind of healing that began in Otsuchi.
As the Wind Phone continues to gain attention worldwide, it has evolved into a broader metaphor for communication beyond death. Its simplicity resonates across cultures and religious beliefs. This offers a bridge between traditional mourning rituals and modern expressions of grief.
Marriage Between Friends
Friendship marriages, known as “Kōrei Kon” (友情結婚 or 友人婚), are an emerging trend in Japan. Two people, often friends, marry each other. They do this not for romantic reasons but for companionship, mutual support, and other practical benefits.
I love this!
As a non-traditional wife and mother, I think we need more than just one definition of “family.” Besides, prioritizing romantic love leaves too many people out. Instead, let’s encourage more financially and emotionally stable care circles and families. For the good of everyone.
Emotional and Practical Support
Many people value the companionship and stability that marriage brings, even if romance is not the focus. Friendship marriages offer emotional support and shared responsibilities like household chores and budgets. Such couplings also bring legal benefits such as health insurance or inheritance rights.
In Japan’s aging society, friendship marriages become part of community-based caregiving structures. By focusing on mutual support, these marriages allow people to take care of each other as they age, without relying on children or extended family.
How great is that? Imagine the reduction in feelings of isolation and loneliness in our senior populations.
Since the relationship is based on friendship, there is often more freedom. Partners can pursue their own romantic relationships outside of the marriage. They can also adopt a flexible lifestyle arrangement that suits both their needs.
I’d love to see that happen here in America.
Poems About Death
My third favorite thing about Japan is its history of death poems.
Japanese death poems, or jisei (辞世), reflect a calm, philosophical acceptance of mortality. They’re often rooted in Zen Buddhism, Shintoism, and other spiritual traditions. The tradition of jisei likely began during the Heian period (794–1185), although examples may date earlier.
Jisei are often linked to teachings on impermanence and non-attachment. The realization of mujo (無常), or the transient nature of all things, is a central theme. Zen masters and monks, in particular, used the form to express the idea of returning to the void after old age or embracing the natural cycle of life and death.
For samurai, writing a death poem was an important final act that showed clarity of mind and composure in the face of their own demise. Samurai were expected to accept death with honor, and their poems reflect this stoic and resolute outlook.
Simplicity and Reflection
Death poems were generally short and composed in styles like waka or haiku. While deeply personal, these poems also touched on universal truths about life, death, and the natural world, creating a bridge between the individual and the cosmos.
You can read many examples of this unique, poetic way of greeting death.
Renowned Japanese poet Matsuo Bashō wrote, in his death poem, “On a journey, ill / my dream goes wandering / over withered fields.” Some death poems were funny, like this later poet who satirized Bashō: “Locked in my room / my dream goes wandering / over brothels.”
Though they’re no longer a thing, writing death poems continued into the modern age. Yukio Mishima, before committing seppuku in the wake of his failed coup attempt, wrote one. So did General Tadamichi Kuribayashi, who led the Japanese during the Battle of Iwo Jima, in his final letter to imperial headquarters afterward.
What would you write in your death poem?
Japanese Rituals in America
While I also enjoyed visiting Zen Buddhist shrines and Shinto temples, eating sushi, and drinking matcha tea, these three Japanese customs hit home the most for me. I look forward to bringing some of these ideas back to my clients in America. For support or more information about any cultural death or grief rituals, get in touch with me anytime.
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