Kyoto Japan Silent Walk

I was fortunate enough to explore Japan for 2 weeks in the fall of 2025 and did a silent, solo walk at Saihoji Kokedera Temple. Visiting Japan was the culmination of a dream vacation and a chance to see first hand where Shinrin-Yoku started. The dream of going to Japan was born well before I knew about forest bathing, before I knew my nature walks and piddling in the forest had a name. I was able to book tickets to Saihoji and it happened to be on the rainiest, coldest day of vacation.

At the entrance of Saihoji I was greeted with the most amazing moss that coated the roofs of little wooden buildings, the bricks of the bridge, and the temple beyond the rock walls. The rain was steady and drew out the most vivid shades of green. Before you were permitted to walk the temple grounds you were asked to copy sutras to take home with you. It was a practice in stillness, presence, and quiet. Sitting at a wood desk with rain thudding off the roof, copying my peace sutras with people from all over the world seemed like it was from a movie. I finished my sutras, placed them in my bag and proceeded on my walk.

There were areas of the temple you were not permitted to walk as it would require stepping on the moss. Around each corner moss was visible, and you were always walking along water. A pond was in the middle of the temple and reflected maple leaves and rain drops. I noticed how quiet the temple was and how so much care went into trimming the trees and moss. Workers were using scissors to manicure the grounds. Care is placed into every piece of trimming and cutting. I did two laps around the temple grounds.

The purpose of doing the walk in silence, for me at least, was to take the energy required to use that sense and to place it into others. I breathed more deeply, more evenly. I smelled scents beyond the rain and the dirt smelled intense. I listened to birds more closely and reflected on where they were around me. I reflected on the excitement I felt in my heart of being in Japan, but tuned into the grief and sorrow I felt for those suffering across the world. I was able to process and acknowledge various emotions in my heart. I was able to touch trees as I walked by and felt the wet bark and pressed my fingers into soft, cold moss.

I reflected on my time after Japan and I don’t think I have done a silent, solo walk since. I have participated in forest therapy walks, lead walks, but haven’t walked in silence since being at the temple. I crave what it feels like to be there again. I know nature here in Central Kentucky is just as magical and healing as it is in a rainy, moss covered temple in Kyoto.