A Spirit Housed in Humble Vegetables
During Japan’s Obon season each summer, you may notice something curious on household altars: cucumbers and eggplants with toothpicks or chopsticks stuck in them like legs. At first glance, they look like children’s craft projects, but they hold profound meaning. These are known as Shōryō-uma—”spirit horses”—vehicles believed to transport the souls of ancestors as they journey between the afterlife and the living world.
In this article, we explore how these simple vegetable animals embody Japanese spiritual beliefs, views on life and death, and deep-rooted folk traditions.
What Are Shōryō-uma and What Do They Represent?
A Ride for the Spirits
Shōryō-uma are crafted during Obon (typically August 13–16), the period when it is believed ancestral spirits return to visit the living. The meanings of the vegetables are:
- Cucumber Horse (Mukae-uma / “welcoming horse”): The horse symbolizes speed, helping ancestors arrive quickly.
- Eggplant Cow (Okuri-ushi / “farewell cow”): The cow, slower and burden-bearing, allows for a gentle, unhurried return to the other world.
To create them, people stick chopsticks or toothpicks into cucumbers and eggplants to form legs, transforming them into symbolic animals. This custom is a fusion of folk belief and Buddhism, and has been passed down through generations across Japan.
The Historical and Religious Background
Ancestor Worship and Nature Beliefs
In ancient Japanese spirituality, it was believed that the soul of the deceased would, over time, become a protective ancestral spirit. This belief merged with animistic views, where gods resided in mountains and natural objects. The idea that spirits periodically return home formed the basis for Obon—an annual occasion to welcome and honor them.
The Arrival of Buddhism and the Ullambana Sutra
When Buddhism arrived in Japan in the 6th century, it blended with these older traditions to form Urabon-e (Obon rituals). The Buddhist scripture Ullambana Sutra tells the story of Maudgalyāyana (Mokuren in Japanese), a disciple who seeks to save his mother from suffering in the afterlife through offerings. This narrative became the spiritual foundation of Obon, and the Shōryō-uma emerged as a folk tool to aid the journey of returning spirits.
The Symbolic Layers of Shōryō-uma
Fast and Slow: A Symbol of Emotional Nuance
The cucumber and eggplant represent the contrast between swiftness and slowness. The desire for ancestors to come quickly but return slowly reflects the complex emotional layers of longing, reverence, and farewell.
Symbols of the Life Cycle
Both horses and cows are symbols of vitality. In agrarian societies, they also represented fertility and diligence. Thus, the Shōryō-uma are not only about mourning, but also about the cycle of life and rebirth, and our bond with nature.
Vehicles Between Two Worlds
Shōryō-uma can also be seen as vehicles connecting this world (shigan) and the other world (higan). This reflects Buddhist concepts such as reincarnation and the intermediate state (chū’u), the space between death and rebirth.
Regional Variations in Shōryō-uma Traditions
Different Materials by Region
- Kansai Region: In addition to cucumbers and eggplants, corn and okra may be used, and sometimes even carved wooden horses.
- Tohoku Region: Instead of animals, spirits are often placed on boats. Nagasaki’s famous Shōrō-nagashi (Spirit Boat Floating) is a prime example.
- Okinawa: During Obon (observed by the lunar calendar), unique rituals like Uutōtō are performed, but the custom of Shōryō-uma is rare.
Variations in Design and Ritual Disposal
In some regions, Shōryō-uma have faces made of paper or are crafted as three-dimensional artworks. At the end of Obon, some are floated down rivers or burned in purification fires—a ritual known as Otakiage—to respectfully send off the spirits.
Conclusion: Why Shōryō-uma Still Matter
The Shōryō-uma is more than a quaint seasonal decoration. It is a powerful expression of Japanese folk spirituality, a visible gesture of respect for the dead, love for family, and reverence for the cycles of life and nature.
Even in modern, increasingly secular Japan, this small ritual quietly revives a sense of connection—between generations, between the living and the dead, and between this world and the unseen. In its humble form, the Shōryō-uma reminds us that there are still things worth believing in, even if we cannot see them.
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