Why the lightning shape in Japanese shrines?

Plus the scientific basis behind it all.

Sep 20, 2024

Kia ora Koutou, Tim Bunting, Kiwi Yamabushi here on the Japan you never knew you wanted to know.

But first:

NEW VIDEO: The WILD Legend of Japan’s Castle of Mist

How did Yamagata Castle gain the awesome moniker ‘The Castle of Mist’? Find out in this week’s video.

(Here’s last week’s video for those who missed it. )

Now onto this week’s article:

Why do Japanese Shrines have lightning-bolt tassels?

This shrine on Kinbo-zan features some very lovely paper Shide.

Ever notice the lightning-shaped tassels in Japan? You know, the ones hanging from ropes on Torii gates at jinja, around sacred objects such as trees or rocks, or on ceremonial staffs used in Shinto rituals?

Do you know what they mean? And more importantly, why they’re shaped like lightning?

The answer may surprise you.

It certainly surprised me.

For starters, I was wondering whether the lightning shape had anything to do with real lightning, and it turns out it does!

Plus, the lightning shape isn’t just a cool pattern. There’s actually a scientific basis for it! One I doubt the ancient Japanese knew about in detail, but it’s definitely something they picked up on. Well, if the countless lightning-shaped motifs are anything to go by at least.

Prince Hachiko Shrine (Hachiko-sha) at the summit of Haguro-san.

Known as Shide (shi-deh), these lightning motifs are often made out of paper, but they don’t have to be.

For more robust Shide, such as ones found on mountaintops, you’ll fine some made of metal, like the bronze used on jinja roofs. Many gohei staffs used for purification use paper, but there are some metallic ones for special purification rituals too.

Which is great and all,

but it still doesn’t explain the lightning!

For reasons I’m unable to divulge, I won this Gohei (we always called it a nusa?) during last year’s Akinomine Autumn’s Peak Ritual. You can also see the Gohei used during purification rituals in the background to the left.

Oh yeah. Sorry about that.

For the lightning shape, take a look at the lightning word.

Let’s start with the obvious one:

Thunder. Read Kaminari.

Made up of ‘Kami’, and ‘Nari’.

Kami means, well,

Kami.

Pretty simple.

Nari is a little more difficult. Nari describes a sound being made, in this case a pretty big one. In short, you could say Kaminari is

‘the roar of the Kami’.

Pretty cool, right?

Plus,

the Kanji of Kaminari, 雷, is ‘rain’ 雨　and ‘rice field’ 田. However, apparently there wasn’t just one rice field in the past, there were three 畾. And before that, it was a circle with a cross through it to symbolize both the shape and sound of thunder and lightning (goro goro in Japanese).

Plus plus,

that same Kanji, 雷, can be read ‘Ikazuchi’, which has a meaning of a ‘ferocious mountain demon or snake’, as that was what thunder was thought to be. Since thunder and lightning are a certainly scary part of nature, they are said to have a deep relationship with the Kami, and this is how Ikazuchi came to have this meaning (Japanese source).

Still doesn’t explain the lightning shape.

Jijisugi, The Grandfather Cedar on Haguro-san as well as the Five Story Pagoda.

Oh yeah, sorry about that.

When it comes to lightning in Japanese, things are not so obvious.

You see, lightning in Japanese is:

Inazuma.

Written 稲妻.

‘Ina’ means rice plant.

And the Zuma part comes from Tsuma, which means, naturally,

spouse.

In other words, lightning, in Japanese, is ‘Rice Spouse’.

Rice spouse?

You see, rice plants mature between late summer and early autumn. As you’ve already guessed, we get a lot of thunder and lightning between late summer and early autumn.

Oh, and also rain.

Well, more in early summer. More on that in a second.

Put simply, the ancient Japanese thought thunder and lightning were the reason why we were even able to have rice in the first place. Rice was, and still very much is, the staple food in Japan.

No rice, no life.

Lightning was seen as why rice plants were able to come to fruition in the first place.

Lightning was seen as the companion of rice.

You know,

its spouse.

Make sense?

What’s more, places in Japan with traditionally a lot of thunder and lightning, like here in the Shonai region of Yamagata, are known to produce good rice.

Every time the farmers heard thunder, they rejoiced because with it came bountiful harvests.

And you know what,

there’s actually scientific evidence this is true.

There’s a scientific basis for lightning producing good rice:

Nitrogen fixation.

Fixating on nitrogen (source). Just normal nitrogen. Not fixating on NOS, Vin Diesel.

Nitrogen.

In layman’s terms (terms I can understand), plants require nitrogen to form proteins for growth. About 78% of the air is nitrogen, yet plants can’t directly absorb nitrogen from the atmosphere. Nitrogen needs to be transferred into compounds through microbial activity in the soil before plants can get any benefit.

And you know what helps nitrogen fixation?

Rice spouse.

So this weird fascination with lightning isn’t just a weird fascination after all!

It’s not just hoo-doo.

Lightning not only symbolises a good harvest, it scientifically promotes one too.

Oh, and the small pieces of straw splayed out next to the lightning on the shimenawa ropes?

Rain.

Now you know.

And now you know why you see the lightning motif all over sacred objects and places in Japan. It’s a prayer for a good harvest!

Daily Yamabushi for This Week

Daily Yamabushi posts for the week of September 13 to 19, 2024.
Read Daily Yamabushi for free at timbunting.com/blog or Medium.com.

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The sky is slowly turning into autumn here in Yamagata.

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Ka kite ano.

Tim.

Kiwi Yamabushi