As Japan welcomes the New Year, there is a distinctive custom for cleansing and renewal of both mind and body—hatsumode, the first shrine visit of the year. When you step into the hush of a shrine’s wooded precincts and draw a deep breath of the chilled, pristine air, the everyday din recedes.
On a New Year’s journey in Japan, you’ll likely be moved by the serene comfort and uplifting sense of purpose that unfold. As you feel the pulse of living tradition up close, hatsumode offers time and space shaped by care for the environment and a gentle commitment to wellness.
Let’s walk this path together—its background and appeal, and a model itinerary through Tokyo and Hakone—to discover how hatsumode can become your own restorative ritual.
The first visit of the New Year—hatsumode—is a longstanding annual practice in which you quietly renew gratitude for the year gone by and make fresh vows before the kami (deities).
In Shinto, you begin with harai (purification) to cleanse body and mind, reaffirming respect for the gods and nature at the turn of the year (*1). Its roots include toshikomori, the custom of keeping vigil at a shrine from New Year’s Eve to welcome the Year Deity (*2). In modern times, the spread of railways helped popularize journeys to renowned shrines, turning these visits into a national custom (*3).
Below, you’ll find (1) the origins and modern development of hatsumode and (2) the differences between shrines and temples—and why quiet is central to the experience—explained in a way that’s friendly for first‑timers.
Hatsumode is the act of visiting a shrine or temple for the first time in the New Year to pray for safety and well‑being. Its origin is often linked to toshikomori, keeping vigil at a clan shrine from New Year’s Eve while awaiting the Year Deity’s arrival (*2). This prayer resets the cycle of “gratitude → vow,” and in Shinto the emphasis has long been on purifying body and mind before approaching the sanctuary (*1).
The now‑familiar practice of setting out on New Year’s Day for prestigious shrines and temples became widespread from the Meiji era onward, driven by the expansion of railways and efforts to attract pilgrims—research shows how it took hold nationwide as a popular event (*3). Seen through this history, hatsumode isn’t just wish‑making; it’s a cultural mechanism for reconnecting society, nature, and your inner life.
A shrine is a Shinto sanctuary. You pass through the torii gate, purify your hands and mouth at the water pavilion, then offer two bows, two claps, and one bow before the hall of worship (*4). By contrast, a temple is a Buddhist complex: you enter through the main gate, place your palms together before the principal image, and, depending on the sect, may offer incense or chant (*5).
When you understand the terms and etiquette of each, you begin to see a distinctly Japanese pattern of mutual respect between these religious cultures. In practice, early morning at a shrine is especially calm—your footsteps on the gravel and the rustle of leaves in the wind stand out.
If you breathe deeply within that quiet, your body and mind gently realign, and the words of your prayer become simple and clear. Honor the etiquette and treat the hush as an ally—that is the key to a refined hatsumode experience.
To deepen your hatsumode beyond the offering you make before the worship hall, you can request a shōden sanpai (formal worship in the inner sanctuary). This ceremony is more solemn and dignified than general worship; through the recitation of noritō (Shinto prayers) and the offering of a tamagushi (sakaki branch), your personal petitions are presented with care before the kami (*1).
Receiving prayers in a pure space at the dawn of the year—wrapped in quiet and the fragrance of hinoki—can bring a mental reset rarely found in everyday life. In recent years, as more international visitors come to pray, an increasing number of shrines offer guidance in English or can arrange interpreter‑guides.
For a typical New Year visit, you toss a coin into the offering box, ring the bell, and pray briefly before the worship hall.
A more deliberate, special option is shōden sanpai (formal worship). Guided by a priest, you are escorted into the main sanctuary to receive a prayer rite—essentially a private service in which the priest mediates your wishes to the deity, recites noritō, and performs purification.
During the rite, your name and address are read aloud before the kami, and prayers are offered in line with your intentions—perhaps safe travels or the well‑being of your household (*3). You will present a tamagushi and bow deeply; the poise and choreography of the moment make it quietly profound.
Afterward, you may receive sacred sake, an ofuda (talisman), or an omamori (amulet) to take the divine protection with you. Enveloped by the scent of hinoki within the silent hall, this prayer becomes a crisp, elevated way to open the year—a luxurious spiritual experience for grown‑ups.
If you’re visiting from abroad, language can be a concern—yet major shrines are increasingly prepared to welcome guests from overseas.
At Meiji Jingū, for example, priests have hosted seminars for licensed interpreter‑guides to convey the shrine’s significance, part of broader efforts to accommodate inbound visitors. While the noritō during formal worship is recited in Japanese, the motions are easy to follow visually, and many shrines provide English pamphlets in advance.
If you prefer, you can also arrange for a nationally licensed interpreter‑guide to accompany your visit. In Kyoto, Shimogamo Shrine even offers English tours by reservation, with VIP plans that include priest‑led access to the worship hall and a special prayer.
Fees are on the higher side, but this is a rare chance to experience a ceremony of the same dignity offered to royalty and dignitaries—now with English explanations. Many shrines accept reservations via email or phone; confirm your preferred date and time and ask what English support is available (availability varies by season and shrine).
With these services, you can immerse yourself in Japan’s sacred world of prayer without the anxiety of a language barrier. When you picture your New Year vows in English and place your hands together before the kami, your intention will carry beyond words.
A sustainable New Year visit comes down to small choices in transit and worship. For intercity travel, trains and the Shinkansen balance comfort with a lighter environmental footprint. Exploring nature by e‑bike lets you feel the wind and the forest’s scent with your whole body.
Spending locally—your offerings and small purchases around the shrine—helps sustain regional culture. Returning an old omamori properly or choosing newer, eco‑minded amulets lets you honor both tradition and the environment. These modest considerations add up to your first steps toward a journey that sustains the future.
To keep your hatsumode trip sustainable, be intentional about how you move and how you pray.
Japan’s rail network makes intercity travel effortless; from Tokyo you can ride trains to Kyoto or Hakone in comfort. Rail’s capacity and efficiency mean a smaller carbon footprint—a smart choice for lowering your impact.
On site, choose public transport or an electric‑vehicle taxi instead of a rental car. Gazing out from a train window or gliding in a quiet, clean EV doesn’t just help the planet; it eases travel stress.
In nature‑rich places like Hakone, renting an electric‑assist bicycle (e‑bike) is another option. Pedaling along lakeshores and through the woods, you’ll notice fresh air on your skin—and details you’d miss from a car.
During hatsumode, aim to spend locally. Teahouses and craft shops often cluster around shrines; taking home a miniature kadomatsu or a handcrafted good‑luck charm becomes both a keepsake and support for the local economy.
Your offering at the shrine and the fee for amulets and talismans are vital revenue for preserving sacred groves and buildings—especially at historic shrines, whose vast forests and structures require significant upkeep. Visitors’ contributions carry these legacies forward.
Seasonal goshuin (commemorative stamps) and zodiac‑themed amulets are also available for New Year. Receiving one is less about souvenirs and more about holding a “piece of culture” infused with local craftsmanship and care.
A fresh omamori is part of the joy of hatsumode, but caring for an older one matters too. In Japan, amulets and talismans that have fulfilled their role are returned to the shrine for a ceremonial burning (otakiage), a purification by sacred fire.
Many shrines hold otakiage at set times each year (New Year or Setsubun). If you can, return your old talisman then (*1). Outside those times, you can place it in the collection box on the grounds.
Always follow the guidance at each shrine. You might wonder whether burning is wasteful, but amulets made of paper and wood are respectfully reduced to ash and “returned to the heavens”—a gesture of gratitude.
Eco‑conscious innovations are emerging too. At Yuzuruha Shrine in Hyōgo, for instance, you can receive a “scent amulet”: a paper card on which you add a few drops of your preferred aroma oil. Blends include yuzu, camphor, and hinoki—fragrances connected to the shrine—offering a calming effect. When you’re done, the card can be recycled with paper (*2).
Amulets like these, which preserve tradition while embracing sustainability, express the flexibility and kindness of Japanese culture. By returning your old amulet with thanks rather than discarding it, you begin a sustainable journey with a simple, mindful act.
A New Year visit to a shrine—your hatsumode—is more than worship; it’s a setting for whole‑person wellness. In the shrine’s forest, a few deliberate deep breaths let that clear air cleanse you from within—an easy practice of mindfulness that helps release mental clutter.
The natural aromas of wood and earth soothe you like aromatherapy. If you finish the day with a restorative soak in a hot spring, your body warms to its core—a contemporary echo of Shinto’s misogi (purification with water). When prayer, scent, and hot springs harmonize, you greet the year with a steadier mind and body—and a confident first step into the months ahead.
A shrine’s precincts are a healing space in their own right. As you walk the tree‑lined approach, try slow, intentional breaths. You can feel calm settling in as fresh air fills your lungs. Attune your ears to birdsong and the murmur of water; distraction falls away and your senses sharpen.
A “woman who loves visiting shrines” put it this way: “When I walk the grounds and breathe deeply, I notice small joys and see nature’s beauty with fresh gratitude” (*1). For centuries, people in Japan have purified themselves in the forest and realigned body and spirit. While modern science supports the relaxing effects of forest bathing, deep breathing within a sacred precinct feels like an even deeper cleansing of the heart.
Freed from busy thoughts, you rest in the present—much like yoga or meditation. At a New Year shrine, stand on the dappled gravel, close your eyes, and inhale…exhale. You’ll sense a quiet, lake‑like stillness spreading within.
Among the senses, scent ties most closely to memory and feeling. Shrines don’t carry the strong incense of temples; instead, the forest itself offers a bright, living fragrance.
Hinoki and cedar timbers, moss‑soft stone, fallen leaves on earth—these natural aromas gently awaken your sense of smell. After rain, the path smells richer; a deep breath can feel like a cleanse from the inside out.
Some rites involve burning leaves of sakaki or subtle incense; such aromas are said to dispel stray thoughts. As mentioned earlier, some shrines now offer unique “scent amulets”—aroma oils blended with notes like yuzu and camphor that capture the essence of Japan’s forests (*2). Wear one, and even back amid London’s bustle you may recall a shrine’s tranquil grove and find your balance again.
Bringing home a favorite incense or essential oil from your travels adds a simple ritual to your evenings. Invisible though it is, scent is a quietly powerful pillar of wellness.
Shinto’s misogi—ritual purification with water—resonates with today’s hot‑spring culture. Ending your itinerary with a soak is a tradition that nurtures both body and spirit.
In regions where shrines stand near hot spring towns—Hakone among them—build yuami (bathing) into your day. After an early visit, slip into an open‑air bath as the morning light spills in. The winter‑blue sky through steam, the cool touch of air on your face, and the warm water holding you—tension from late nights and cold eases from the body and, gently, from the mind.
For centuries, bathing has been part of tōji (therapeutic soaks) in Japan. Mineral‑rich waters promote circulation and metabolism. Cleanse the heart at the shrine, then refresh the body in the bath—an ultimate detox and recharge.
Many inns pair onsen with balanced meals from local ingredients and soothing spa treatments. When a shrine’s quiet energy meets the healing of hot water, you feel strength rising from within. To wash away stress and fatigue and start the year well, hatsumode + onsen is a luxurious form of self‑care.
Wrapped in deep woods at the heart of Tokyo, Meiji Jingū welcomes over three million visitors during the first three days of the year (Jan 1–3), the most in Japan (*1). The scale and energy are striking, but here we propose a model course that seeks out quiet.
Except for New Year’s Day, gates open from sunrise to sunset (*2). To avoid the crowds, visit in the early morning outside the first three days. As you walk the approach in crisp air, surrounded by the forest’s scent, your prayer becomes a special way to begin the year in peace.
Deepen your cultural understanding through formal worship or a museum visit, then unwind at a café on the grounds or a nearby luxury hotel. This flow—prayer, learning, and rest—is an ideal wellness journey for aligning body and mind.
Enter through the torii right at opening, and cool, lucid air brushes your cheeks as your senses wake.
Towering trees more than a century old line the gravel path, creating a quiet so complete you forget you’re in the center of a metropolis. This “Everlasting Forest” began with 100,000 saplings donated from across Japan. Planted at the shrine’s founding and designed to mature into a natural forest over a hundred years, it’s a sustainable legacy intended to thrive for the next century as well (*3).
Visitors often say they feel “uplifted” the moment they step into this forest (*3). The purity of the air and the energy of the grove seem to wash the heart clean—especially in the hush of early morning.
After your early prayers at the inner sanctuary, consider joining a formal worship rite. At the office, you’ll write your name, address, and wish; offer a customary fee (around ¥10,000 as a guideline); then priests beat the drum, recite noritō, and read your name aloud in prayer.
Applications from international visitors are accepted, and English pamphlets may be available. After the rite, you may receive an ofuda or sacred sake—a tangible sense of the year’s protection (*2).
Stroll the grounds to visit the sacred camphor tree and the pair known as “Meoto‑sugi,” power spots beloved by many. Then stop by the Meiji Jingu Museum, designed by Kengo Kuma and opened in 2019, where bilingual exhibits explore the lives of Emperor Meiji and Empress Shōken and the shrine’s founding. It’s a calm space to deepen understanding—and to rest. Pairing prayer with thoughtful exploration makes your hatsumode at Meiji Jingū richer and more layered.
Blessed with grand nature and onsen, Hakone is ideal for blending hatsumode with wellness.
Before dawn, watch the sky pale over Lake Ashi; carry the glow of first light to Hakone Shrine for your New Year prayer. If you go on to Kuzuryū Shrine, set in a lakeside forest, you’ll feel the lake’s cleansing presence all around you.
Close with a soak that warms you to the core. With mindful hydration and short, well‑timed dips, you’ll boost recovery effects throughout the trip. Prayer, nature, and baths—together they set a quiet, strong tone for the year ahead.
From classic viewpoints like Taikanzan or Mt. Komagatake, Hakone lets you greet the first sunrise with both Fuji and the shimmering lake in view (*1). Some years, the Komagatake Ropeway runs special “first sunrise” service on January 1, giving you a grand, open horizon at the summit (*2). Bathe in that morning light and take a deep breath—the day’s “first light” is a powerful switch for your body clock.
Then continue to Hakone Shrine on Lake Ashi’s shore. Founded, according to tradition, in 757 by the monk Mankan, it’s among the Kanto region’s most revered shrines, known for protection from misfortune and for traffic safety (*3). Walk the approach with the great torii mirrored in the lake behind you, and offer two bows, two claps, one bow. Your heart settles; your prayer finds clear, simple words.
If you have the time and energy, continue to Kuzuryū Shrine (Main Sanctuary), nestled deeper in the lakeside woods. From Hakone Shrine, follow the lakeside path through “Kuzuryū no Mori” (admission required). On the 13th of each month, a regular festival is held, drawing many worshippers (*4). Listening to lake and forest sounds as you walk becomes a high‑quality “walking meditation” in itself.
Gently warm yourself after the chill of worship in Hakone’s baths. The basic rule is “short soaks, repeated rather than one long bath.” Hydrate before and after; get out if you feel overheated; rest after bathing—the Environment Ministry’s guidelines make recovery and sleep both better (*5).
Start with a comfortable 38–40°C soak up to your shoulders for 5–8 minutes, step out to rest, and repeat 2–3 sets until a light sweat forms on your forehead. Circulation improves, and warmth spreads from your core.
Finish with fresh air and rehydrate with plain hot water or a local yuzu drink to replenish fluids and electrolytes. Try to finish bathing 2–3 hours before bedtime to support natural sleep onset as your body cools. Take one last deep breath in the lakeside breeze—the warmth of the water layers gently over your prayer, and you’ll feel fresh energy welling from within.
From the turn of the year onward, Japan’s seasonal customs form a chain of small rituals that gently reset mind and body around hatsumode. A year‑end deep clean clears space; at midnight, 108 bell tolls send off the old year’s worldly desires; long, slender toshikoshi soba carry hopes for longevity and the cutting away of misfortune.
At dawn, you greet the first sunrise and anchor your circadian rhythm with bright morning light. On the table, each dish of osechi embodies prayers for health and prosperity. During the New Year’s period, nanakusa‑gayu (seven‑herb rice porridge) soothes digestion. With a rhythm of purification, prayer, and rest, you return to everyday life smoothly. Below is a practical guide to these customs and their meaning through a wellness perspective.
Ōmisoka (New Year’s Eve) is for resetting the year. Clean your space and mind during the day, then create a pocket of quiet at night. Temple bells ring 108 times—linked to the traditional count of human desires; when you listen with the image of releasing attachments and anxieties one strike at a time, your breathing naturally deepens (*1).
Toshikoshi soba, enjoyed before midnight, symbolizes both longevity (in the long noodles) and “cutting away” misfortune (in soba’s tendency to break cleanly). The custom is to finish the bowl before the date changes (*2). Warm yourself with each sip, give thanks, and let the old year go—simple gestures that gently settle the heart.
On Ganjitsu (January 1), match your deep breaths to the first sunrise in the east. Bright morning light helps entrain your circadian rhythm and aligns sleep–wake cycles (*3).
Indoors, sit by the window with a sip of hot water. On the table, osechi—from black soybeans for health and long life to kazunoko (herring roe) for fertility—offers time‑tested wisdom in preserved foods. Sharing these dishes slowly with family becomes rest for the soul (*4).
For the first three days, resist over‑scheduling. Gentle walks, reading, and light stretching are enough to support recovery. A quiet start sets the tone for the year.
The small practices that continue through Matsu no Uchi (the New Year’s period) are a sequence of self‑care. Nanakusa‑gayu, made with spring’s first herbs, is believed to dispel ill luck while giving your digestion a rest after festive meals (*5).
Year‑end cleaning = environmental reset and mental detox; bell chimes = mindful release; first sunrise = morning light exposure; the three days of rest = recovery; seven‑herb porridge = digestive care. When you treat these customs as “meaningful routines,” the first week becomes a wellness blueprint for your year.
These quiet rituals reconnect you with yourself, family, and nature—an “elegant rest” whose value only grows in a busy age.
The first steps of a new year are guided by quiet, by scent, and by the soft light of morning. You make space through purification, clear your mind with deep breaths, and entrust yourself to the forest’s presence and the warmth of hot springs—this is hatsumode as a sustainable wellness journey for adults.
When you move with care and align your choices with the environment, prayer dissolves into daily routine and your natural rhythm returns.
A bow before the kami becomes gratitude for what has passed and encouragement for who you’re becoming. The memory of scent steadies you on the way home, and a small donation or a single amulet keeps the glow alive. Resolutions born of quiet grow into a supple strength that holds steady against the noise, forming the core of self‑care you carry back into everyday life. With one gentle habit to guide the next hundred days, step through the forest gate.
Your preparations to cleanse and to fill your strength are complete. Now, hold your New Year promise close and set out—calmly uplifted. That first step can reconnect you with the world and with yourself, marking the beginning of a beautiful, sustainable year.