■ Low and slow — the art of grounding oneself

In many parts of the world, to be seated is to be elevated.
Chairs give posture, presence, power.

But in Japan, sitting down often means going lower — not higher.
Tatami mats, floor cushions, seiza.
There is no throne. There is humility.

Here, being grounded is not a metaphor — it’s a practice.

■ Space closer to the earth

Japanese interiors are designed not from the eye-level down, but from the floor up.
Rooms are built around the idea that people will live low:
Sleeping on futon, sitting on zabuton, eating from a low table.

The result? A closer relationship with space — and with one’s own body.

You don’t occupy the room. You blend into it.

■ The aesthetic of “less height, more presence”

To sit on the floor is to feel the texture of tatami, to move more slowly, to stay closer to the rhythm of the room.

When you kneel in seiza, you are not only expressing respect — you are embracing stillness.
The knees touch the earth. The back straightens not to dominate, but to attune.

It’s not always comfortable.
But it is always intentional.

■ How space shapes the soul

A chair supports the body.
But the floor supports a culture.

And in Japan, a floor is not just a surface — it is a canvas for rituals:
The tea ceremony. The sitting meditation. The seasonal meal.
Even the silence in a tatami room feels structured, like it belongs.

To live close to the ground is to live close to the present.

■ Sitting down to rise within

So next time you remove your shoes, step onto a soft mat, and fold your legs beneath you,
remember: this is not passive.

This is a choice — to be low,
to be still,
and to be fully here.