How I Recharge: My Go-To Ritual as a Business Owner

Onsen (温泉) literally means "hot spring" — but in Japan, the word implies the water is naturally heated underground, not warmed by a heater. The country sits on a lot of volcanic activity, so geothermally heated mineral water is everywhere if you know where to look. There are around 27,000 onsen sources in Japan, ranging from rural mountain springs to neighborhood public baths to elaborate ryokan resorts.

The mineral content is part of what makes it distinct from a regular hot tub. Different springs have different chemistry — some are sulfur-rich (and smell like it), some are iron-heavy and turn the water reddish-brown, some are clear and silky. People in Japan often pick onsens based on what mineral they want to soak in for whatever ailment or mood they have.

The cultural ritual around onsens is also different. You wash thoroughly before getting into the bath itself. The bath is for soaking, not for cleaning. The whole experience is meant to be slow, quiet, and shared.

Imabari towels come from Imabari City in Ehime Prefecture (愛媛県), which is essentially the towel capital of Japan. They've been making cotton towels there for over 130 years, and the local water (which is unusually soft, low in minerals) is part of what gives the towels their characteristic absorbency and softness. To carry the official "Imabari" branding, a towel has to pass a 5-second water absorption test — water dropped on the surface has to soak in within 5 seconds. Not many towels pass that.

The result is a towel that's noticeably softer, more absorbent, and longer-lasting than a typical cotton towel. They're not magic, but they're a real upgrade — the kind of thing where the first time you use one, you actually notice the difference. Whether that's worth the price depends on how often you use a towel, and you do.

If you're going to spring for one, expect to pay $40-80 for a quality bath towel. They get softer with washing, not stiffer, and tend to last 5-10 years with regular use.

There's actually a chemistry answer here. Green tea contains a unique amino acid called L-theanine (テアニン), which doesn't really show up in coffee or black tea at the same levels. L-theanine has a calming, almost focus-inducing effect — it produces alpha brain waves, which are associated with relaxed alertness rather than agitation. Combined with the moderate caffeine in green tea, you get a calm-and-awake feeling that coffee can't quite match.

Beyond the chemistry, green tea also has a sensory profile that lends itself to slowing down. The brewing requires attention to temperature and timing. The flavor unfolds across multiple steeps. You're kind of forced to be present with it. A good sencha (煎茶) or a bowl of matcha (抹茶) is hard to chug. That's part of the point.

So a ritual that ends with a warm cup of green tea isn't just a vibe choice — it's actually pharmacologically and behaviorally well-suited to that role. Coffee would put you in a different mode entirely.

Honestly, the onsen is the most replaceable element. The reset ritual concept is really about three things: a sensory experience that pulls you out of your normal mental loops, something that warms or comforts the body, and a moment of quiet reflection at the end. You can build that without ever leaving home.

A few options that work: a long hot bath with epsom salts and a real soak (not a quick rinse). A long shower with the lights off and just steam filling the space. A walk in cold weather that ends with you coming inside to a warm room. A midday nap with the curtains drawn. The point is the contrast — you start in your busy mode, then deliberately shift your body into a different state, then sit with that state for a few minutes.

End with something warm to drink. Green tea works particularly well, but herbal tea, hot milk with honey, or even just clear broth can serve the same purpose. The drink at the end signals "the reset is complete" to your nervous system.

Yoshiharu Shiozawa is the founder of Japarcana, a company that focuses on introducing premium Japanese products — particularly textiles like Imabari towels — to the global market. He grew up in Imabari City and would often gift the towels from his hometown to people he met while traveling abroad. The reaction he kept getting was that recipients had no idea this kind of quality existed.

That experience was the seed of Japarcana. The company is essentially built around the idea that there are categories of premium Japanese craft — towels, kitchenware, paper goods, traditional textiles — that are well-known inside Japan but barely known outside it. Bridging that gap is the mission.

This blog post on our site is part of a guest collaboration with him. We share an aesthetic and an approach with Japarcana — Japanese craft in everyday use, not as decoration — so when he wrote about his Sunday reset ritual involving an Imabari towel and Japanese green tea, it felt like a natural fit to publish.