Walking an old stone path in Nikko, listening to stories carried by the land.

In Praise of SBNR

What Hot Springs, Pilgrimage Trails, and Quiet Shrines Have Taught Me About Well-Being

I recently came across the term SBNR.

It stands for Spiritual But Not Religious.

People who identify with this idea may not belong to a particular religion, yet they value inner growth, meaning, connection, and a sense of spiritual richness in their lives.

When I first read the definition, I smiled.

Because I realized:

“This sounds exactly like me.”

I do not belong to a religious organization.

Yet I love visiting shrines.

I enjoy walking through forests and mountains.

I am drawn to old stories, sacred places, and the memories that remain in the landscape.

Over the past few years, I have walked the ancient trails of Kumano, spent time in Koyasan, explored Nikko, and studied the history of the Fuji-ko pilgrims.

None of these experiences were about converting to a religion.

They were about feeling connected — to nature, history, and something larger than myself.

One of my favorite memories comes from my stay in Nikko.

Almost every day, my friend Goto-san and I visited a local hot spring.

Our conversations were never profound.

“Did you bring your towel?”

“Oh, I almost forgot.”

“The locker costs 100 yen, but you get it back later.”

Simple things.

After soaking in the hot water, we would sit for a while.

“I chose an Oronamin C today.”

“I think I’ll just have water.”

On the way home, we often stopped by a small local market.

“These butterbur stalks are cheap.”

“How do you cook them?”

Nothing extraordinary happened.

No mystical visions.

No dramatic spiritual revelations.

And yet, I often found myself thinking:

“I feel happy.”

“I feel at peace.”

I call this experience Yuzen — a word I created by combining the Japanese character for hot water (yu) and the concept of Zen.

For me, Yuzen means quietly soaking in a hot spring, relaxing the body, listening to nature, and returning to everyday life with a lighter heart.

In recent years, the word “spirituality” has often been associated with manifestation, energy work, or personal transformation.

There is nothing wrong with those paths.

But I believe there is another kind of spirituality.

A quieter one.

Walking through the forests of Kumano.

Breathing the morning air of Koyasan.

Sitting beside a river in Nikko.

Listening to local stories.

Feeling the presence of history beneath your feet.

These experiences may seem ordinary.

Yet they nourish something deep within us.

I once heard a Buddhist monk describe Japanese spirituality in a way that stayed with me.

He said:

“For many Japanese people, it is less about belief and more about respect.”

Not belief.

Respect.

Respect for nature.

Respect for ancestors.

Respect for places.

Respect for seasons.

Respect for the invisible connections that shape our lives.

That idea resonates with me deeply.

Perhaps this is why the concept of SBNR feels so natural in Japan.

Many Japanese people do not consider themselves religious.

Yet they bow at shrines.

They admire mountains.

They appreciate the changing seasons.

They feel gratitude toward the places where they live.

Maybe we have been practicing SBNR all along without giving it a name.

As a wandering miko, I continue to travel across Japan.

I visit shrines, walk ancient trails, listen to local stories, and spend time in hot springs.

Along the way, I discover small moments that remind me what spiritual well-being truly means.

Not necessarily grand revelations.

Sometimes it is simply sharing a quiet conversation after a bath.

Sometimes it is buying local vegetables on the way home.

Sometimes it is standing in silence beneath old cedar trees.

If the idea of SBNR speaks to you, perhaps you do not need to search very far.

Take a walk.

Visit a quiet shrine.

Sit beside a river.

Soak in a hot spring.

You may discover that spiritual richness has been waiting there all along.