I recently finished reading “White” by Kenya Hara, a book exploring the profound significance of the color white in Japanese culture. Gifted to me by my friend Justin, this book provided a meditative insight into how the concept of white (or ”shiro”) embodies emptiness, silence, and sensitivity — influencing everything from architecture to language in Japan.
Kenya Hara, an acclaimed designer (previous art director of Muji), describes white not just as a color but as a symbol of potential. He writes, “In some cases, white denotes emptiness, a symbol of nonbeing that is ready to be filled.” This idea of emptiness isn’t negative. In fact, white is a condition (“kizen”) that will be filled and become something. It is a fertile space of possibility and potentiality in which we can begin filling from — information, imagination, and more. Whiteness provides a dynamic energy essential for communication.
I relate to the power of emptiness described in the book. This philosophy resonates with my daily mindfulness practice. Each morning, I begin with 10 to 20 minutes of stillness. I settle cross-legged near my window to get sunlight, then close my eyes. I intentionally allow my mind to clear, in preparation for the day. Getting to this empty state is not always easy amid the clutter of daily thoughts and responsibilities, yet it fosters a deep connection to the present moment. Not only is my mind blank, I also feel light. I sit in full consciousness of the present and welcome anything that arrives — sounds, movement, thoughts, feelings. Sometimes, I hear the baby in the floor below me crying. I feel the rustle of the cool morning breeze on the tip of my nose. I observe any slight stress arising from upcoming deadlines. I notice my bright optimism for where today will take me. When the noise gradually dissolves, I am finally able to reach a calm, expansive state. Emerging from chaos, this emptiness and pure condition give rise to feelings of gratitude and peace. I create this space for myself so that I develop appreciation for subtlety and cultivate sensitivity to my surroundings.
This state is not merely a tool for productivity, it is the foundation for creativity and emotional insight. It is an opening for me to ground and engage with my self. I am able to explore what’s beneath the surface. I am more deeply attuned to my emotional world. Illuminating ideas sprout. I find beauty in the mundane and ordinary. This mindful condition is a starting point for creativity, thought, and meaning to blossom.
Hara also draws a connection between whiteness and simplicity, principles evident in Japanese tea ceremonies, paintings, and zen gardens. They reflect the conscious use of emptiness in Japanese aesthetics and emphasize minimalism. These objects, customs, and physical spaces are meticulously designed to be expressed in ever-simpler forms. This suggests that “simplicity leads to emptiness”, and ultimately, to richness in imagination and tranquility. This approach inspires me to embrace preservation over novelty, reflecting a mindfulness that I strive to incorporate into my rituals.
The concept of “white” is relevant in Japan as well as a larger human context, since it challenges us to more precisely consider the choices we make in our daily lives. Emptiness is not a space of “nothingness”. It quiets the mind so we can cultivate an eye to discern the subtle beauty that surrounds us. Such simplicity creates room for unlimited creative possibilities. Now, when I wear my favorite white T-shirt from Uniqlo or open my minimalist stationary drawer from Muji, I feel even more joyful. Because I understand the history and philosophy that influences how these simple yet beautiful objects were made, I feel empowered and reminded to live more mindfully.
I immediately meditated for ten minutes upon finishing this article; I like the emphasis on simplicity and staying in the present - this book seems so zen 🙏