In the old Japanese lunisolar calendar, months were not numbered. They were named.

January was 睦月, mutsuki — the month of harmony, when families gathered for New Year. February was 如月, kisaragi — the month of adding clothes against the lingering cold. March was 弥生, yayoi — the month of growing life. The names described the world as it actually was in each month: what was happening in nature, what people were doing, what the air felt like. They were observational names, built from lived experience of the year.

Japan adopted the solar calendar in the Meiji era, in 1873, and the months became numbers. But the old names were not discarded. They remain in use — in formal writing, in poetry, in the names of places and people, and in one month above all others: 師走.

師走 — the etymology

師走, shiwasu, is the old name for December. The characters mean: 師, monk or master or teacher — someone known for their wisdom and composure. 走, to run.

Even the masters run in December.

The image is exact. December in Japan is a month of compressed activity: year-end work obligations, 忘年会 bōnenkai parties to bid farewell to the year, gifts to arrange and send, the preparations for New Year that begin weeks in advance. The temples and shrines are busy with visitors. The post offices are overwhelmed. The department stores are packed. The trains are full of people carrying things.

Even people who are ordinarily calm and unhurried find themselves moving faster than usual. This is 師走. The name has described December accurately for as long as it has existed.

The other month names

師走 is perhaps the most vivid of the old names, but all twelve have this quality of naming the world directly. 文月, fumizuki — July, the month of letters and poetry, when people wrote to each other during summer. 長月, nagatsuki — September, the month of long nights, as the days began to shorten. 霜月, shimotsuki — November, the month of frost.

These names give you a way of feeling where you are in the year rather than simply counting. A number tells you position. A name tells you character. There is a difference in how you hold the month when it has a name like 師走 versus when it is simply the twelfth.

December, running

Every year I notice it — the particular gear-shift that happens in early December. The sense that the year is now serious about ending, and there is more to do before it does than there is time. The streets busier. The to-do lists longer. The calendar suddenly full.

師走 names this feeling with precision. It does not complain about it or resist it. It simply says: this is what December is. Even the wisest among us will be moving quickly. Plan accordingly, and be kind to yourself while you run.