Mottainai: A legendary samurai's lesson on valuing what you have
Make the most of your resources
🏷️ Categories: History, Life lessons, Minimalism.
The legendary samurai Minamoto no Yoshitsune escaped on horseback in a hurry.
The battle of Yashima was raging around him, the Taira clan was after him.
He had to retreat.
During the flight with his troops they crossed a river, the strong gallop of the horse caused Yoshitsune's bow to fall into the water and the current carried him away. Yoshitsune turned, saw his bow floating and stopped his horse. His troops shouted at him to leave it, that there was no time, not to risk it for a bow. But Yoshitsune did not hesitate: he got off his horse and dived into the water in desperation for his bow.
It was not just a bow.
Leaving it behind would have been an act unworthy of a warrior.
A disgrace to his clan.
“Mottainai!” he shouted to his warriors from the river (The Heike Monogatari, 1921).
His bow was not just wood and string; it was hundreds of hours of effort and sweat of craftsmen who had labored to build the finest of bows for the clan's most important samurai. It's about respecting what one has, the time, energy and opportunities we've been given.
That is Mottainai (勿体無い), the discomfort of knowing that something has been wasted.
To leave it behind was to dishonor all the effort they had put into their bow.
Unforgivable.
The pain of waste
The first time I read this story, I felt deeply identified.
I have always felt a sense of discomfort when I see something go to waste. Throwing food away, a light on for no reason, wasting water, unnecessary purchases.... Every time it happens, I feel a discomfort, it hurts. Now I know that my feeling has a name.
Mottainai.
It's not just about money or ecology; it's a way of being, it's innate.
I try to be intentional in using my resources, because I know that each thing has a value beyond its price. Every food that goes into the garbage, every object that is thrown away without trying to repair it causes me that discomfort.
Some people tell me that I exaggerate.
For me, being aware of how I use resources is vital, it is a form of respect. Respect for the efforts of those who made it possible for me to have what I have, for the planet itself. I see that many only value what is expensive, that's why they waste water, food and buy so many dispensable things that they throw away without feeling sorry.
It seems that if it does not have an expensive price tag, it has no value.
As Oscar Wilde said:
“People know the price of everything, but the value of nothing”.
Making the most of everything
The mentality of making the most of what you have has existed throughout history.
If we go back to Japan, during the Edo Period (1603-1868), mottainai was present. A kimono, for example, was not just a garment. It was worn for decades, mended over and over again. When it could no longer be worn, it was used as a cleaning cloth. When it ceased to serve as a rag, it was used as fuel and burned to make fire (Matsumoto, 2020).
But let's go further.
After World War II, when Japan was in ruins and every grain of rice matters, mottainai made a strong comeback. Then, wasting a grain of rice meant belittling the work of the peasants (Matsumoto, 2020).
Where did mottainai go?
The material abundance of the modern world made us forget it.
There is a conspicuous consumption in which you always feel inferior when looking at others, as if we lack something, one more thing to be satisfied, but when we have it... it turns out that now another one is missing. And so we end up, surrounded by goods that instantly lose their value and are thrown away for the new version, the next whim.
How many times have you heard “it's easier to throw it away and buy a new one”?
Few things hurt more.
What is broken deserves to be repaired. It's my object, I take care of it and maintain it.
I don't want another one.
You always took care of what you had. My grandparents lived like that, my parents too.
We all lived like that, until very recently.
I think of Yoshitsune jumping into the river to retrieve his bow. Of the thousand patches of a kimono and the last grain of rice at every meal... I wonder: How many things do we leave behind without thinking? Have we become too comfortable? Too ignorant to value what we have?
What is abundant is not valued, and now almost everything is abundant.
A phrase that always comes back: “People know the price of everything, but the value of nothing”.
✍️ Your turn: Does the concept of mottainai resonate with you? Are you trying to be sustainable?
💭 Quote of the day: “All your valuable resources: time, energy, talent, passion, money, must be used to make your life sprout.” Henry Cloud, Necessary Endings.
See you next time, be thankful! 👋
References 📚
Matsumoto, S. (2020, 4 febrero). Qué es el «mottainai», el concepto de cero desperdicios que obsesiona a Japón. URL
The Heike Monogatari. (1921).
Oh Alvaro, this is the most profound essay you've ever written. How often do I throw stuff in the can because I can't fix it, it's gone moldy, or it's beyond my ability to repair. What's really frustrating is that attitude you mentioned: throw it away and buy another one. Built-in obsolescence has been a marketing tool for decades and it's only gotten more ridiculous. Last July, I bought a new kindle because the ancient battery on my old one finally died. Three months later, my $90 kindle died as well. Reviews on Amazon testified that this was a common problem. Only lasting a few months. I took it to a battery store who referred me to a specialist in batter replacement for e-readers. He told me, "It costs most to replace the battery in this one than to buy a new one. And that's what they want you to do." FEH! This is a product structure for our technocracy. So, I not only lost a kindle. I lost over 30 books. Mindblowing! I'm not going to succumb to their scheme. I lost, but I tell myself I won.
Wonderful. Yes I feel
This as well. What Sue Said!