For many, it’s likely a small pot sitting quietly in a serene space, containing a richly detailed miniature world. There’s something oddly compelling about the solitary figure of a tiny tree—perhaps because it speaks to us as something more than just a plant.

Through the lens of Zen philosophy, bonsai is not simply a “hobby in horticulture.” Rather, it is regarded as a microcosm—a scaled-down universe that invites contemplation.

The Journey from Penjing to Bonsai

The roots of bonsai trace back to the Heian period (794–1185), when the Chinese art of penjing was introduced to Japan. These miniature landscapes, made with stones and trees, were designed to recreate mountain and water scenery and were viewed from above. They were a form of constructed nature—landscapes captured in the palm of your hand.

Later, during the Muromachi period (1336–1573), Zen Buddhism—particularly the Rinzai school—became deeply embedded in Japanese culture, influencing the arts and the spirit of the samurai class. Penjing too evolved under the influence of Zen, shifting from decorative art to something far more introspective and spiritual: bonsai.

Zen and the Oneness of Nature and Self

At the heart of Zen is the belief that humanity and nature are inherently one. To gaze at nature is to gaze within; to observe the external world is to reflect on one’s inner self. This shift in perspective deeply affected how bonsai was appreciated.

While penjing was traditionally admired from a bird’s-eye view, bonsai—shaped by Zen thinking—began to be viewed from below, as if looking up at a towering natural presence.

This change reflects the Zen view that nature is not something to be dominated, but rather something to be revered, feared, and looked up to with humility. When we look up at a bonsai tree in its pot, we’re not just seeing a tree—we’re seeing a mountain, feeling the wind, sensing the seasons, and quietly touching our own hearts.

A Universe in a Pot

Zen teaches, “To know autumn from a single leaf,” or “To see the ocean in a single drop.” These sayings express the idea that great truths can be found in the smallest of things. And bonsai is a living embodiment of that idea.

Within a pot just tens of centimeters wide, there are mountains and valleys, wind and time. It is, quite literally, a universe in miniature. To gaze into that world is not merely to appreciate art or beauty, but to connect with something far greater than oneself—nature, time, and the cosmos.

Tending to Nature, Tending to the Self

Of course, bonsai requires effort—watering, pruning, repotting. But these acts are not the purpose; they are simply means to attune ourselves to the beauty of nature.

What matters is not whether a tree is “beautiful,” but how we face nature, time, and even our own ego through it. Bonsai is not just a decorative object—it is a kind of mirror, reflecting how we live, grow, and relate to the world around us.

A Personal Connection

As it happens, my ancestors were followers of the Rinzai school of Zen Buddhism—specifically, of the Myoshin-ji sect, the largest within Japan. Today, I find myself working in a field related to bonsai, and I can’t help but feel a strange, quiet sense of connection through time.