“There is only now”

“There is only now” gives urgency to the present by setting it against a future that cannot be known or controlled. Mariko uses the idea to steady John Blackthorne: rather than become consumed by what may happen to him or the village, he can recognize that he is alive, honored, and fortunate in this particular moment.

Mariko’s counsel

Mariko’s words arise as a response to Blackthorne’s fear and his concern for the village. She tells him that many things could happen before the six months he is contemplating: a tidal wave or earthquake, his ship becoming available, Yabu dying, or all of them dying. The possibilities do not resolve his problem; they expose how little certainty the future offers. Mariko therefore asks him to leave questions of God and karma beyond his control and attend instead to what is actually present.

Her argument is not abstract reassurance. She touches Blackthorne compassionately and directs his attention to the sunset. Its beauty is real, while tomorrow is only a possibility; this sunset, once gone, will never happen again. The scene makes the phrase an instruction in perception: Blackthorne is asked to look, lose himself in the moment, and become one with nature rather than carry the imagined consequences of every possible future.

The sunset as an instance

Blackthorne responds by looking west. Purple-red and black spread across the sky, and he watches until the sun vanishes. The scene’s movement—from Mariko’s counsel, to the change in the sky, to the sun’s disappearance—gives the principle a concrete form. The present is not permanent: its value comes partly from being particular and unrepeatable. To attend to it is therefore not to deny mortality or uncertainty, but to meet the moment before it is lost.

Mariko’s counsel also reframes Blackthorne’s sense of responsibility. She does not promise that the village will be spared or that the dangers he names will pass. Instead, she distinguishes the immediate reality of his life from outcomes no one can yet know. Her appeal joins acceptance with active attention: the future remains open, but the sunset before him can be seen now.

Blackthorne’s renewed resolve

The idea returns in a later passage as Blackthorne reflects on his fear of a superstition concerning his ninth and last life. The narration counters that fear with the conviction that, in the Land of the Gods, things are different and “Today is forever.” The phrase makes the present feel expansive even as the uncertainty of tomorrow remains: many things may happen, but they belong to a future not yet arrived.

That reflection leads into a practical decision. Blackthorne resolves, “Today I’ll abide by their rules.” The movement from fear to resolve gives the expression consequences beyond contemplation. Mariko’s counsel has directed him away from trying to master what cannot be known; his later thought turns that orientation into an immediate choice about how he will act. Across both moments, the present is at once fragile, sufficient, and the only time in which a decision can be made.