Sacred groves in Japan – an ecofeminist reading

In the tapestry of Japan’s spiritual landscape, one finds a rich interplay between nature, culture, and gender. One story that I encountered lies in the ‘utaki’—sacred groves that bear witness to an ancient tradition.

Utaki: Where Nature Meets the Divine

Japan is no stranger to the practice of venerating nature. However, what makes utaki unique is their sacredness, which often centers around one or several majestic trees. Dominating this arena is the gajumaru or the old banyan tree (Ficus microcarpa). Their aerial roots that meander gracefully to the ground and multiple trunks lend them an aura of timelessness. Some utaki also house impressive rock formations, which together with the trees, become a nexus of spiritual energy.

Reimagining Gender Spaces: The Domain of Women

Until I encountered the work of Dr. Aike Peter Rots, a researcher based in Norway with a specialization in these sacred natural spaces, I was under the impression and had concluded too rapidly, perhaps like many others, that most sacred spaces in nature were domains of men. After all, I thought, the ‘yama’ or mountains were traditionally masculine territories. For example, Koyasan was only for men, with a special pilgrimage trail at the edge for women, as you can read in this musing: Koyasan in winter- a masculine landscape with feminine lessons.

However, Rots’ work brought to light a fascinating facet of the utaki. Historically, they were the realm of women. Female ritual practitioners, known as ‘kaminchu’ or ‘noro’, were the primary caretakers and spiritual guides of these spaces. So strong was the association of women with these groves that men were traditionally prohibited from entering them.

This gendered relationship with nature presents an ecofeminist perspective, revealing the harmonious coexistence of women with the environment, where they were not just passive observers but active participants and protectors.

The Changing Dynamics of Utaki

Traditions, like rivers, are in a constant state of flux. Over time, the taboos associated with utaki have faded, and in some places, they have disappeared altogether. As Rots observes, these spaces have now acquired new meanings in the contemporary age. With the rise of mass tourism, the once-secluded utaki are now tourist attractions, sites of heritage conservation, and symbols of environmental degradation.

This shift, while it has broadened the audience of utaki, has also raised questions about conservation and commodification. How do we balance the sanctity of these groves with the demands of modernity? How do we ensure that in introducing them to the world, we do not rob them of their soul?

In Conclusion

The utaki of Japan, with their ecofeminist underpinnings, offer a lens through which we can examine the intricate relationship between nature, gender, and spirituality. However, we have to be aware of essentialist binary thinking where men get off the hook of environmental stewardship.

As I reflect upon my own visit to Okinawa in 2019, where I encountered the enchanting tree spirits (a tale I’ve shared in a previous blog post: Okinawa: from its longevity secrets to mischievous tree trolls), I’m reminded of the universality of our connection to nature. Whether through the eyes of the ‘noro’ or a curious traveler, the utaki beckon us to pause, reflect, and cherish the sacredness of the world around us.

Bibliography:

• Rots, A.P., 2014. Forests of the Gods: Shinto, Nature, and Sacred Space in Contemporary Japan. Doctoral thesis. Oslo University.
• Rots, A.P., 2017. Shinto, Nature and Ideology in Contemporary Japan: Making Sacred Forests. Bloomsbury Publishing.
• Rots, A.P., 2019. Strangers in the sacred grove: The changing meanings of Okinawan Utaki. Religions, 10(5), p.298.