Finding Wabi Sabi in Morocco

I don't remember when or how the concept of wabi sabi found me.

Years ago a friend asked me to go with her to get her first tattoo. And then dared me to get one too.

Even though I'd vowed never to get one, I couldn't pass on a friendly challenge.

After looking at hundreds of images, I was drawn to a small enso symbol that I would later learn is a prominent icon in the philosophy of wabi sabi. I had no idea when I chose that symbol to be permanently etched on the inside of my wrist that it would have profound implications on my future.

A shifting worldview

As much as the COVID-19 pandemic changed the outside world, it was the catalyst that ushered in a perfect storm in my personal world as well.

I was working in a job I no longer loved and facing the prospect of retiring early for the sake of my physical and emotional health. I dealt with the loss of a relationship that was no longer working. I resisted but finally accepted sole responsibility for managing my father's care while he was slowly dying from Alzheimer's. And as if all that wasn't enough, I found myself facing an existential crisis of my own. It was a dark time full of self-imposed isolation, self-doubt, confusion, and uncertainty. I was burned out, physically and mentally exhausted, and depressed.

So what is wabi sabi?

As I started searching for the lifeline that would pull me out of the morass I found myself stuck in, wabi sabi became the light that led me out of the darkness. I started reading everything I could find about wabi sabi, not as a form of Japanese art or an interior design aesthetic, but as a holistic, spiritually-based (though not "religious") way of living.

Wabi Sabi is an ancient Japanese concept, believed by many to have originated around the 15th century in Japan. Although a precise definition is difficult to express, at its essence, wabi sabi celebrates the beauty of imperfection, the acceptance of transience, and appreciation for the natural cycle of growth and decay. This elegantly simple yet often elusive perspective is a gentle, graceful challenge to find beauty in the humble, the temporary, and the imperfect.

Wabi sabi's focus on imperfection, simplicity, humility, contemplation, and solitude were contrary to all the values I'd grown up believing were important for "success." In a world where financial wealth, material possessions, instant gratification, culturally-manufactured definitions of beauty, and social media popularity (or notoriety) are so highly coveted, it was enormously comforting to embrace a new way of perceiving the world and my place in it. In retrospect, I think I initially took the austere, mostly monochromatic Japanese-style aesthetic of wabi sabi too far. I repainted my home and bought new home decor in subdued "earth tones" of beige, cream, sage, and tan. I bought a new wardrobe in the same color palette. My life became simpler, and the changes allowed a lot of space for introspection and adoption of some healthy new habits. But something was missing. I wasn't as depressed, but I wasn't happy either. My life felt as dreary as the colors I'd chosen to surround myself with.

Interestingly, one of the bright spots in my life at that time was my growing friendship with an amazing Dutch woman that I'd met in an online accountability group for female solopreneurs during the pandemic. Our friendship continued to grow after the program ended. Over the next few years, I followed her journey as she started visiting Morocco more and more frequently and I witnessed her growing love for a country so vastly different from her native one.

She now splits her time between The Netherlands and Morocco, and luckily for me, she has a thriving travel agency specializing in tours to Morocco!

It took a year to muster the courage to step completely out of my carefully crafted comfort zone, but I finally did it. I met her in person at the Casablanca airport and we embarked on an eight-day tour around Morocco. Finding wabi sabi in Morocco

Prior to my trip, I'd been trying to integrate wabi sabi into every area of my life, with mixed success. Almost immediately after arriving in Morocco, I felt a seismic shift. I wasn't looking at my phone to see what time it was or who may have texted. I wasn't clinching my jaws. I wasn't wondering where we were going or what we'd be doing next. I was gloriously present, soaking in the sights and sounds around me.

It took a while to realize what I was experiencing, and then it hit me. It was mindfulness, in the truest sense of the word.

I didn't have to sit quietly in a meditative pose, will my mind to focus on the present, or chase away distracting thoughts as if they were clouds. I was experiencing an organic mindfulness that embraced my surroundings rather than attempting to mentally distance myself from them.

My friend and I spent eight amazing days exploring Morocco. We toured the stunningly beautiful Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca and the charming city of Chefchaouen in the Rif Mountains, known for its charming blue buildings.

We visited several cooperatives with tours of how ceramics, mosaics, rugs, and leather items were made by hand by incredibly talented artisans. Then we explored the souks in the Medina (old city) of Fes.

We braved the hairpin turns of the mighty Atlas Mountains on our way Merzouga where we journeyed into the Sahara Desert. An unexpected camel trek gave us time to view the beginning of a stunning sunset over the mountainous desert dunes and then took us to our desert camp where we glamped the night away. We spent the final days of our journey exploring inside and outside of the Medina in Marrakech, enjoying a lovely afternoon with a new Moroccan friend in her home, and basking in the luxurious beauty of one of Marrakech's beautiful riads (small hotels). I'm still processing my insights from the trip, but the most significant and unexpected one was that Moroccan culture embodies the essence of wabi sabi in ways I never would have imagined.

Transience. The passage of time and the beauty of weather-worn surfaces are immediately visible in Moroccan architecture, particularly in the old city centers known as medinas. Typically made from mud bricks or stucco, walls and other exterior surfaces develop multi-hued patinas over time as they crack, fade, and develop textures formed by the effects of weather and time. The acceptance of worn or broken mosaic tiles are not viewed as deformities that need to be repaired or replaced, but rather as reminders of the beauty of the original item despite the passage of time. Traditional Moroccan leather products are typically crafted with natural dyes and tanning processes. As they age, the leather softens and darkens, revealing a distinct character that becomes part of the object's life cycle.

Simplicity. The roadside stands on the roads that carry tourists through rural Morocco are full of simple, handmade pottery. By far the most popular items are the iconic tagines, traditional terra cotta cooking pots used to prepare and serve many Moroccan dishes. The authentic tagines are often unpainted and many are unglazed. The slightly irregular shapes, small cracks, or other imperfections do nothing to detract from the functional shape of the tagine and add a bit of charm and natural beauty to this functional cookware. Beauty. I found one of the most intriguing and most "wabi sabi-ish" aspects of Moroccan culture to be the riads, traditional Moroccan homes with interior courtyards. Their typically unassuming exteriors favor an intentional focus on what's inside the homes, rather than creating a facade for the outside world to see. In traditional riads, the focus is on open space, natural light, comfort, and serenity. Many accommodations throughout Morocco are akin to bed-and-breakfasts or small boutique hotels in the West. They are typically comprised of a few riad-style homes that have been combined to create beautiful accommodations for visitors. Moroccan culture demonstrates its appreciation for beauty through it's exquisite craftsmanship. Intricate mosaics, stunning carvings in stone and wood, handmade rugs, leather goods, and so much more can be found in the big cities and small villages throughout the country. One of the most amazing things about the craftsmanship in Morocco is that most of the skills are passed down through many generations and often still use traditional tools and processes. Even the most intricate designs are generally created without the use of patterns or templates, relying solely on the experience (and memory) of the artisans.

Before leaving for Morocco, I set my intention for my journey to be a life-altering experience and it was.

Upon leaving Morocco, I realized I had experienced the fusion of Japanese-style wabi sabi with the lively essence of Moroccan culture that I had been seeking. I'd discovered wabi sabi Moroccan-style.

From that discovery, Wabi Sabi Maroc was born.