Finding Calm in the Chaotic Mind: Healing Through Iyashikei
When I was younger, I had no idea what iyashikei was. I was just going through the motions, but I remember the feeling of calm creeping in when I watched certain shows or played certain games that seemed to take their time, embracing the slow, quiet moments. My undiagnosed ADHD brain back then was like a billion fireworks going off at once, but these moments were different. My head actually slowed down. My thoughts, which were usually racing each other on some track I could never find the end of, kind of just... took a seat, put their feet up. At that time, I didn’t know the name for that genre, but eventually, I learned about iyashikei.
A Little History Lesson (Don’t Worry, It’s Good)
Alright, Iyashikei is a genre that literally means "healing." It’s the anime, manga, or even games that make you feel like you’re wrapped in a soft blanket, like sipping hot cocoa when it's raining outside. Iyashikei blossomed in Japan during the '90s, around a time when people were looking for something, anything, to slow things down and bring some comfort amidst societal pressures. Takeshi Matsui's research on the "healing boom" in Japan offers some insight into this, explaining how people craved this feeling of calm. Iyashikei stepped in to fill that gap.
The genre emerged as a response to the increasing hustle and pressure of modern life. Japan in the '90s faced economic uncertainty after the burst of the economic bubble, leading to a collective need for relief and escapism. Iyashikei didn’t just offer distraction, it offered healing. It provided a way to cope by showing characters who found peace in the everyday, who embraced simplicity without the need for constant action or drama. Takeshi Matsui talks about how this “healing boom” influenced consumer culture, and iyashikei became a much-needed escape from stress, a way for people to reconnect with the gentler, quieter sides of life.
And honestly, let’s be real here. Capitalism thrives on burnout. It wants you to keep moving, keep producing, keep grinding until there’s nothing left of you but a tired shell. Iyashikei is kind of a rebellion against that. It’s a reminder that you don’t have to be endlessly productive to have value. You don’t need to monetize every hobby or push every interest to the extreme. You can just exist, and that’s enough. Iyashikei says it’s okay to rest, to breathe, to just be without having to justify it.
Paul Roquet’s work also digs into the whole ambient aesthetics thing, about how stories and settings in iyashikei regulate moods through their pace and tone. It’s this slow-burn, this sense of taking in each moment’s atmosphere. You breathe easier because these stories breathe easy. It’s all slow scenes, easy mornings, the sound of crickets and rustling leaves. As a kid, I didn’t know the genre had a name, but I could feel its effect. It was like someone turned down the volume on the chaos inside my head.
How It Healed Me
Back then, I was just this kid whose brain was like a television with all the channels on at once. ADHD before I knew what ADHD was, right? Consuming media like Yokohama Shopping Log, Yuru Camp, Amanchu!, or even games like Animal Crossing and the Boku no Natsuyasumi series. They were like this magical remote control that lowered the volume, clicked off a few channels. They focused on the banality of life, the gentle rhythms of just existing.
A younger me, plopped in front of the TV after a hectic day at university, a mind buzzing with a thousand loose wires, watching Amanchu! where characters are just... enjoying diving, looking at the sea, and breathing. And I could breathe too. I’d sit there, watching people do simple things, and it’s like the anxiety knots in my brain loosened bit by bit. There’s something intensely healing in watching fictional characters appreciate an afternoon nap or a perfect cup of tea.
There’s a particular magic in seeing characters find joy in the smallest of things, picking wildflowers, looking up at the stars, or simply feeling the wind on their face. These shows didn’t tell me to calm down; they showed me what calm could look like. They made me feel like it was okay to take it slow, that there was value in quiet moments, and that happiness didn’t always need to be loud or flashy.
Mundanity is Underrated
It's funny, isn't it? How we all rush for the next big thing, the next intense moment, but iyashikei is like, "Hey, how about a deep breath and some sunshine?" There's this specific joy in the everyday, in the banality of life that iyashikei celebrates. It's in every camping scene in Yuru Camp, every bug-catching summer afternoon in Boku no Natsuyasumi. These stories turn the mundane into something sacred, something beautiful.
And there’s something radical about that. We live in a world that constantly tells us we need to hustle, to strive for greatness, to make every moment count in a very marketable way. But iyashikei is like, “Nah, just sit back and watch the clouds drift by.” It’s a reminder that there’s more to life than what you produce. There’s more to life than grinding away until you’re too tired to enjoy anything. Tatsuya Yumiyama, in his article on the varieties of healing in Japan, mentions how experiences of healing can be found in simplicity, moments of quiet, being present. And honestly, this stuff saved me from drowning in my own mental chaos. It was like being handed a life raft when all I knew was how to tread water.
To this day, I come back to these shows and games because they’re a reminder that life’s real joys aren’t always big or loud. Sometimes, they’re just a sunny day spent fishing in Animal Crossing or setting up a tent in Yuru Camp.
Personal Moments of Healing
I had a crappy day at school, and the weight of a hundred undone assignments was like a storm cloud. But then I’d get home, turn on my DS with Animal Crossing in the cartridge, and suddenly, I'm in a village of animal neighbors, planting flowers, catching fish. My character would do a little celebratory dance, and I’d smile. It made me realize, hey, today, I made something grow. I made something a bit more beautiful, even if it was just pixels.
Or Amanchu!, where characters take part in something as simple as diving lessons. It wasn’t about perfecting a skill or competition. It was just about the experience. Watching those characters struggle, grow, and just enjoy the water made me feel like I, too, could afford to be patient with myself. I didn’t need to rush to be the best; I could just be, and that was enough.
Why Iyashikei Matters
To some people, iyashikei might seem pointless. Slow, uneventful. But it’s that very slowness that’s its strength. It gives people like me, people whose minds won’t sit still, whose brains are always trying to run before they walk, a reason to take a breath. And not just a quick gasp before the next sprint, but a real, deep breath.
Maybe that’s what this genre is all about, finding the healing we didn’t know we needed, the kind that’s been here all along, in the slow, small, seemingly ordinary moments. It’s about learning to love the present without needing it to be anything more than it is. And for someone who lived half his life with a mind that seemed determined to never slow down, iyashikei taught me that maybe it’s okay to pause. Maybe it’s more than okay, maybe it’s necessary.
And there's more to it than just relaxation. Iyashikei can also help people reconnect with their emotions. In a world where we're often encouraged to keep moving, keep producing, keep achieving, iyashikei shows us that there’s profound beauty in simply feeling. Whether it’s the warmth of the sun on your skin, or the sadness of a character as they watch the seasons change. It’s a reminder that life isn’t just about the milestones; it’s about the moments in between.
Finding Your Calm
If you haven’t experienced iyashikei, maybe now’s the time. Find a show, or a game, or even a moment that lets you be present. Where you can find beauty in the mundane, like a dandelion swaying in the breeze, or the sound of cicadas as the sun dips below the horizon. Slow down, breathe, take it in. Because honestly? Life’s pretty beautiful if you take the time to just look.
The world can be loud, chaotic, and exhausting. But there’s always space for peace, you just have to carve it out. And sometimes, that peace comes in the form of a sleepy anime character enjoying a bowl of ramen, or a summer evening catching fireflies in a video game. It’s all about those tiny moments that remind you to be gentle with yourself. So here’s to slowing down, to finding the beauty in banality, and to letting ourselves just be.
References
- Roquet, Paul. “Ambient Literature and the Aesthetics of Calm: Mood Regulation in Contemporary Japanese Fiction.” The Journal of Japanese Studies, vol. 35, no. 1, 2008, pp. 87-111.
- Takeshi Matsui, ことばとマーケティング 〜「癒し」ブームの消費社会史 (碩学舎, Tokyo, 2013).
- Tatsuya Yumiyama, 'Varieties of Healing in Present-Day Japan', in Japanese Journal of Religious Studies, vol. 22, no. 3-4, 1995, pp. 267-282.