Picking Up the Thread

In our previous post, we explored Kannazuki — the “Month Without Gods” — when it’s said that deities across Japan leave their shrines and journey to Izumo for a grand assembly.

This time, we follow where they go.

Because in Izumo, the same month is known as Kamiarizuki (神在月) — the Month With Gods.

While the rest of Japan is said to be empty of divine presence, Izumo becomes full. Its air grows still and sacred, as if the unseen world draws a little closer.

The True Timing — Following the Lunar Calendar

In Japan’s ancient lunar calendar, this divine gathering doesn’t fall in our modern October but closer to November. Even today, Izumo Taisha observes Kamiari-sai (神在祭), the “Festival of the Gods’ Gathering,” in mid-November, following this traditional rhythm.

During this week-long event, eight million deities — yaoyorozu no kami (八百万の神) — are believed to descend upon Izumo Taisha.

The number doesn’t mean “eight million” literally, but rather “countless” — a poetic expression for the infinite presence of the divine in all things: mountains, rivers, wind, emotions, and even the smallest gestures of human life.

The Great Meeting — Bonds, Fates, and Harmony

What do all these gods come together to discuss?

According to the Kojiki (Records of Ancient Matters), they gather to deliberate the ties that bind the world: human relationships, harmony between people, and the balance of nature.

At Izumo Taisha, this divine council is often associated with en-musubi (縁結び) — the binding of relationships. It’s said that this is when new connections are woven: friendships, marriages, reunions, even moments of serendipity yet to happen.

It’s a comforting thought — that somewhere in Izumo, amid the rustling pines and sacred ropes of straw, the gods might be quietly deciding who will meet, who will part, and who will find each other again.

Izumo During Kamiarizuki

During this time, Izumo takes on a different energy. The shrines are alive with rituals, yet hushed in reverence. Lanterns line the paths, rice offerings are laid before altars, and the town’s pace slows.

Locals sometimes say, “The gods are in session,” a phrase that makes even ordinary errands feel sacred. Businesses hang small signs of welcome; visitors lower their voices near the shrine grounds.

And above it all hangs the massive shimenawa (注連縄) — the sacred rope that marks Izumo Taisha’s entrance, said to invite divine spirits while keeping misfortune away. Standing beneath it, one can almost sense the weight of centuries of prayer.

A Personal Reflection

As I prepare for my own visit to Izumo Taisha, this story feels especially alive. The idea of eight million deities gathered in one place, quietly weaving the fabric of human fate, is fascinating — almost impossible to grasp, yet deeply comforting.

It reminds me that absence is never just emptiness. Often, something unseen is gathering — waiting to return in another form.

That’s the quiet beauty of Kamiarizuki: a season of reunion, connection, and unseen presence.

Closing Reflection

The twin stories of Kannazuki and Kamiarizuki mirror the rhythm of life itself — presence and absence, solitude and gathering, distance and reunion.

Together, they teach us to trust the unseen threads that connect us, even when life feels still.