Being immersed in a culture whose rhythm differs from your own invites a unique kind of humility and self-awareness. I felt this recently while traveling in Japan. Though my Chinese heritage gives me a close connection to East Asian cultural practices, I was captivated by the nuanced differences in Japanese social customs and expectations, and it was a powerful reminder of the value in recognizing and respecting diversity.
It’s tempting, especially for those of us who consider ourselves open-minded and/or well-traveled, to assume that proximity to cultural familiarity equates to understanding. But the truth is, cultural knowing requires more than shared geography or ancestry. It requires presence, humility, and an active willingness to be reshaped by the unfamiliar.
In Japan, I was mesmerized not only by the beauty of the land and the delicacy of the cuisine, but by the profound cultural commitment to respect; how elders are honored, how shoes are left at thresholds, how the collective is prioritized, and how intention and precision are foundations for relationships. My experience of being somewhere entirely new but with echoes of familiarity allowed me to soak in everything with awe and wonder. I loved noticing what emerged in me as I witnessed a way of being that differed from my own, and how I assimilated (or rejected) each experience.
Those of you who know me well will be familiar with my obsession with food, so it’s no surprise that this was my favorite way to explore my surroundings. Whether it was a quick onigiri snack grabbed from 7-11, or a yakitori feast down a yokocho in Shinjuku, I noticed how each meal reflected the deeper values woven into Japanese daily life. From the precision of a kaiseki meal and bento boxes, to the reverence of omakase dining, there is a palpable sense that food is not merely fuel, but a form of connection, gratitude, and artistry. Ingredients are honored for their seasonality and freshness. Portions are balanced to support harmony rather than excess. And there’s a grace in appreciation—itadakimasu before eating, gochisousama after—a ritualized acknowledgment of both the nourishment and the hands that prepared it. From the quiet elegance of a tea ceremony to the unspoken etiquette in a bustling noodle shop, I was reminded that culture lives in the ordinary moments and how presence is a form of respect, not just in observing rituals, but in choosing to truly notice them.
And we cannot fully notice without also acknowledging the impact of the past. Every custom, every tradition, every architectural detail or communal practice carries with it the weight and wisdom of history. Whether it’s the legacy of Shinto shrines standing quietly in the shadow of neon cities, or the reverence shown to seasonal changes rooted in agrarian rhythms, cultural practices are not just aesthetic, they are shaped by centuries of resilience, adaptation, trauma, and triumph. To witness a culture without recognizing its historical context is to miss the deeper heartbeat of its identity. Honoring history, especially when it includes pain, is a vital part of bearing witness.
That choice to notice, to honor, to remain curious, to bear witness is, in essence, the gift of stepping outside our own bubble. Whether through international travel or through walking into spaces we don’t usually inhabit in our daily lives, we’re invited to widen the lens through which we view the world. Our willingness to take in the unfamiliar sights, sounds, smells, tastes, is part of how we engage with the world.
And yes, I want to name clearly: the ability to travel is a privilege. For many, barriers of cost, time, safety, or access make international exploration unattainable. But the practice of cultural humility isn’t dependent on boarding an airplane. It’s an active curiosity we can cultivate in our own neighborhoods. Go to a grocery store that caters to a different cultural community than your own. Attend a religious ceremony as a respectful observer. Volunteer with an immigrant-led organization. Sit with someone whose lived experience challenges your assumptions to listen and not fix, not to defend, but simply to understand. Let yourself be changed by what you hear.
At The HERD Institute®, we speak often about relationship, about bearing witness to difference without needing to collapse it into sameness. Cultural engagement is an extension of that principle. It’s not about finding ourselves in others, but about learning to hold space for what is unfamiliar and understanding that difference doesn’t diminish value.
This attitude of curiosity, humility, and reverence is precisely what supports equine-facilitated work. When we spend time with horses, we are also engaging with beings whose communication, culture, and ways of relating are profoundly different from our own. To truly connect, we must quiet our assumptions, observe with openness, and be willing to see the world through their eyes. The skills we need in cross-cultural engagement—slowing down, listening deeply, attending to nonverbal cues—are the very same ones that deepen our relational work with horses.
Travel, when undertaken with reverence, can remind us of how much of the world exists beyond our perception. And so can the simple act of walking into a new space with open eyes and an open heart. This, I believe, is the work of empathy: to stand in awe of another’s reality, even when it unsettles our own. Perhaps, especially when it unsettles our own.
So wherever you are, whether on the streets of Kyoto or in your hometown’s unfamiliar neighborhood, I invite you to take one step beyond your comfort zone this week. Approach it as an adventure and practice of relational witness.
Let wonder be your guide. Let humility be your companion. And let empathy grow from the courage to be changed.