Omoiyari and meeting half way

1st of March, 2025

“Omoiyari: the Japanese Art of Compassion” is a self-help book written by Erin Niimi Longhurst published on july 9th of 2020. The titular 思いやり is an altruistic idea of trying to understand the needs of those around us and fullfilling them. The way you interact with the people and the world around you, trying to reach harmony. Empathy with action, in some ways. It is a curious little book a little over 200 pages long that features Author's personal life experiences and her view of the Japanese culture and the ways it can help cultivate one's spirit and teach mindful habits.

This wasn't my first time reading Omoiyari, however, I couldn't really finish it at the time. It is a very easy to read book, even for someone who struggles with reading like me. I think it is a big part of self-help books, the ease of reading. These are feel-good books that are meant to be remembered next time you encounter an issue the book intends to solve. Well, ideally.

The book really is very pleasant to read. The photography featured throughout is licensed stock images but they are perfectly curated and fit the narrative and feel of the text well. I'm actually really grateful for these, as with the ever-growing presence of generated images it is becoming harder and harder to find actual images of real things for research and reference. So it is a pleasure to have these high-quality printed photographs tucked away neatly on my shelf. Some pages have backgrounds that imitate different types of paper, giving the book an almost hand-made feeling which definitely fits in with the theming. Parts of it do feel like padding at times, for example recipes or instructions on how to wrap a gift wine bottle in a traditional fabric. But they are cute and give the book this scrapbook energy, which could very well be fully intentional.

The book is certainly a product of its time. It focuses a lot on lowering one's ecological footprint and ways to keep sane during lockdown. A book firmly placed in the year 2020. When the world was in ruin and you couldn't do anything about it and had to focus on the little things immediately in your reach. That is mostly how things are right now as well, only the world is spinning ever faster and your personal attempts to keep it together feel more and more futile. So maybe it is a good time for me to be re-reading this book to get out of this hopeless mentality I, and maybe you, dear reader, have adapted over the last several years.

The main thesis of the book is that empathy is a skill that needs to be refined. Some people may not have had it; some may have forgotten how to exercise it in these harsh times. I really like that. For some reason it is popular to try and find that one thing that makes us human. It's often ephemeral concepts like love and hope and empathy. And Empathy is not an integral human thing that everyone has and feels. You have to actively learn to try and meet people where they are at, see things from their perspective. The book very helpfully remarks that you have to become aware of your own ego and need in order to set them aside in a helpful manner and hear the other person out. We aren't all selfless objective beings with magical empath powers; in fact I doubt any of us are. And refusing to recognize that you too are a selfish needy animal is a big pitfall that surely will not help you be mindful of those around you and their feelings. Being a person is complicated and sucks majorly is what I'm saying.

Another stance this book takes, that I quite enjoy, is that how can you meet the needs of others if you yourself are a needy neglected mess? There is debate amongst philosophers whether or not true altruism is even possible, and I will not be discussing that. I'm a guy with a blog and I slept through all of my philosophy lectures. But even in a practical sense, if you are doing things that actively hurt you and make you neglect your wants that will only lead to spite. That is just the harsh reality, that everything is give and take and you have to be taking as well. It truly feels horrible to begin feeling agitated at the people you are supposedly doing things for because you love them. You do, unfortunately, need to be nice to yourself as well. I know, we all love being martyrs that yearn for nothing, but alas. And it really can be just the simplest things. I'm not talking about the easily marketable self-care they rave about on the internet to sell you more shower products, I mean time for hobbies, time to get things in order for yourself, time to just think about what you want to do and how you want to do it. It sounds really trivial, but is a huge pain in the ass to actually implement in your life. Fittingly, that is probably one of the ways this book's advice can be described – it's manageable. Big goal separated into little goals, don't beat yourself up over it. Like classic therapy stuff (the audience knowingly laughs).

A fair bit of the text focuses on keeping one's environment clean. Clean space clear mind a classic line that we hear all the time but many people struggle to stick to, maybe in part due to the vagueness of it. Thankfully this book does give a clearer idea of that, even providing cleaning schedules and checklists on de-cluttering. But most importantly, and I think this is what a lot of western discipline advice fails in, it preaches respecting the people, things and space around you. You aren't doing the dishes because it's an annoying chore you'd rather not do, you're caring for the people that share this space with you. Now that is a pretty easy one, but Omoiyari (the book) goes a little further dipping into the animism and even the Shinto concept of kami – spirits that inhabit nature and objects (which is a little bit of a stretch but I see the vision). You aren't just cleaning your home you are showing it that you care about it and want it to be in your life for many more years. If your favorite mug breaks you're showing it gratitude by gluing it together and storing your stationary in it. I think in today's world overrun by overconsumption and cheaply made items that aren't made to last this mindset can be very appealing. It is, to be fair, something that for many people isn't a choice but a necessity, to keep an item useful as long as possible, I understand that. But it can also be nice to have something that you fix up or repurpose, just on a personal level. And I also enjoy that the book doesn't insist on minimalism, but asks more approachable questions like ”I really haven't worn this coat in a while. Maybe one of my friends would like it” and the like.

I do enjoy the importance placed on rituals featured in Omoiyari. It is mainly focused on the tea ceremonies, however I feel a sort of connection to a part of this practice in coffee brewing. Ever since I've started getting better at it I've been getting guests that come over just to relax in my kitchen, look out the window, watch me go through a process with filters and grinding and enjoy a hot cup of coffee. It really is a great pleasure to work on refining your skills in something like this, pay attention to details, figure out the best methods. I get it. And coming back to predicting other people's needs, I feel like that is something I will be able to do soon, when my repertoire expands – figuring out what brew type and milk ratio each of my guests prefers. There is something special in this sort of willing servitude, don't you think?

There is an emphasis on intention. The author really asks you to consider your actions, what effect they will have, how you can learn from your past experiences and improve future ones. It's that therapy buzzword that has become diluted over the years but at its core still is of great value – mindfulness. Slowing down and being present enough and taking into account the situation around you and what you can do to improve it. That is very important and yet so easily overlooked. The world is moving so fast it's hard to take time to be intentional, to put effort into things. This all takes a certain type of discipline. These are all good things to keep in mind. A sort of emotional quality over quantity.

It was a little difficult for me to engage with this book on its level, I have to admit. Maybe I am a buzz kill but I can't help but question every assertion this optimistic cozy text is making. There is a certain appeal to tradition and authority woven in each piece of advice. So in this way I have to push aside all my urges to be skeptical towards this idealistic vision of authority. After all this is a self-help book for a western audience. The Japanese words and ideas, traditions and rituals are meant to be merely observed on a surface level with a new meaning to be found for yourself. This in itself leaves a bit of an unpleasant taste in my mouth. Some of the messages about unconditional kindness are met with a knee-jerk defensive reaction from me, as I dislike advise that encourages you to bottle up your anger and distain in order to maintain a respectful conversation, even when I know that that is oftentimes necessary. But do not misunderstand; I still believe that this book is worth a read. Especially if you've been feeling down and at a loss of what to do. It feels like nice gentle reassurance that there are things you can do: change your habits, change your thinking, get better. Not in a demanding way, it gives you just enough hope to be a little more excited to get up the next day and try to practice some of its teachings no matter how small. As a personal anecdote, thinking of this book certainly gets me to wash the dishes very effectively. It's not life changing, but it isn't trying to be. It is what it is.

The book truly shines when you set aside your cynicism and know-it-all jaded attitude and take what's written in good faith. If I want to understand what E.N.Longhurst is saying I have to meet her half way. You could argue that in a way this too, is omoiyari.

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