How Japan Resets the Year

Oshōgatsu compresses a year’s worth of buildup into a few deliberate gestures. The result is a quieter, more workable start to January.

While a Western New Year often centers on a single midnight countdown, the Japanese Oshōgatsu is a three-day celebration supported by choreography that begins weeks in advance. The run-up to the new year includes cleaning, gift-giving and, of course, the legendary Bōnenkai “forget-the-year” parties (which don’t take place on New Year’s Eve). In the same run-up, Japan’s eto zodiac animal starts appearing everywhere, especially on nengajō cards and calendars. For 2026, it is the Horse.

The celebration moves from raucous December gatherings to the solemn temple bells of midnight, concluding with three days of symbolic feasting and the first spiritual prayers of January. This period functions as a societal system reset, designed to scrape away the accumulated friction of the past twelve months.

But how serious is the New Year for the Japanese? You can see the answer to that in any dojo in the first week of January.

Martial artists embody this reset through Hatsu-keiko, the year’s first practice. Conducted in the dead of winter, this ritual is a tactical purification designed to sweat out the stiffness and stubbornness of the previous twelve months. It is one small example of the wider pattern: the New Year begins by clearing the body and mind before setting anything new in motion. It is a physical pursuit of Mushin—a state of “no-mind” where the ego is cleared to make way for a fresh stream of action.

But, contrary to expectations, not everyone in Japan is a martial artist. From salarymen to Shinkansen operators, the New Year is welcomed with a series of rituals, gestures and acts of cleansing. Here is how Japan welcomes the new year, every year.

Forgetting the year

In the final days of December, homes and offices across the country are scrubbed to clear out the year’s accumulated debris. This ritual of purification removes the physical “dust” of the past twelve months to welcome the New Year deities. Discarding the old ensures the environment is as unburdened as the mind, establishing a clean slate for new objectives.

Parallel to this physical cleaning is the Bōnenkai. While O-soji purifies the space, the Bōnenkai purifies the team’s social dynamics. It serves as a “social reset button” where the rigid hierarchies of the office gently soften. In the informal space of the izakaya (pub), professionals drop their inhibitions, moving from tatemae to honne—from public facade to true feelings.

This ritual relies on “ritualized amnesia.” Grievances are aired and bonds reinforced with the understanding that the night’s events are strategically forgotten. What happens at the year-forgetting party stays in the year-forgetting party.

The transition concludes at midnight with Joya no Kane, the ringing of temple bells 108 times. This auditory ritual creates a sacred pause at the threshold of the year, designed to cleanse the 108 earthly desires that cloud the human spirit.

Though Japan follows the Gregorian calendar to celebrate the New Year on January 1st, the traditions followed are age-old and rooted in Mono no aware—an acute awareness of the impermanence of all things. By acknowledging these attachments through the resonance of the bell, the individual achieves a state of renewed purity before the year begins.

A meaningful feast

With the ego cleared by the temple bells, the focus shifts to programming the year ahead. New Year’s delicacies, called Osechi Ryori, are served in stacked lacquer boxes. The stacking itself symbolizes the “piling up” of good fortune.

Every ingredient uses linguistic puns to internalize a specific objective:

• Kuromame (Black Soybeans): A commitment to mame, or working with diligence and health.
• Buri (Yellowtail): Known as a “promoting fish” because its name changes as it grows, symbolizing career advancement.
• Renkon (Lotus Root): The holes represent unobstructed foresight—the ability to see through to the future.
• Kazunoko (Herring Roe): A prayer for fertility and the prosperity of the next generation.
• Ebi (Shrimp): The curved back resembles an elderly person, representing a wish for longevity.

The first light

The month-long choreography of renewal ends at the shrine: Hatsumōde. It attracts millions of visitors between January 1st and 3rd, with many traveling on special overnight trains to reach famous sites like Meiji Jingu. After purifying themselves with water at a basin, visitors approach the sanctuary to establish a relationship with the deity.

They toss a five-yen coin into the offering box. This specific denomination is used because go-en (literally “five yen)  is a homonym for “good connection.” This is a time for personal reflection and the setting of goals. People write these intentions on wooden plaques and draw fortunes to guide their path.

And then comes Shinnenkai, the “New Year gathering,” held once work resumes. Where Bōnenkai helps dissolve the old year’s residue, Shinnenkai is the re-entry point: a chance to greet colleagues properly, reassert team bonds, and step back into hierarchy with a cleaner interpersonal slate.

In that sense, Oshōgatsu does what it promises: it lets people begin again with clean hands. So, the next time you join your Japanese colleagues for a New Year’s party, take the chance to wipe your own slate clean—and begin 2026 on a hopeful, soul-fulfilling note. 

May this be the year you find your kokorozashi—if you haven’t already. Stay blessed and have a happy New Year!