Ghibli's heartstrings: Life lessons from Ponyo's sea-song joy, to Princess Mononoke's forest lament

I say, we start with dessert and go back backwards. It has been a backwards kind of day.

—Ponyo

Dubai-based Aditi Chatterjee’s five-year-old daughter often recites these lines from Ponyo, Ghibli’s film that is full of pure innocence and adventure. A fresh spin on Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid, the film has captivated Chatterjee’s daughter, who knows every scene by heart—even without understanding the Japanese language.  It feels far more realistic and authentic than the English dubs. “The English dubs don’t match,” Chatterjee’s little one says.

Many summer evenings have been spent in trying to sketch the fine details of Ponyo, riding through waves, clad in her red dress and wide smile to meet Sosuke. She can’t sketch the Tsunami waves as yet—nature’s fury is still out of her reach, but she still tries. And, Chatterjee has kept each and one of those sketches and paintings, because with each one, she sees her daughter trying something new every time. “She might still be too young to understand the significance of the film beneath all the innocence, in terms of environmental angst, but there still is something that she takes away from it, each time.” 

So, what did the Ghibli film teach her? The love of art, powerful and immersive use of colours  a love for the slightest details from the grins, to the laughs, and the the vivid imagery of food and nature. Sometimes, Chatterjee, finds herself drawn to the characterisation of just the food: Eggs frying in the pan, slabs of meat, or just the immaculate details of even cereal. 

It’s art that makes you feel comfortable. It’s art that makes you want to learn, a little more. It’s art that wants you to learn the different forms of storytelling. And while the AI-generated Ghibli-style images flood the internet, they capture the look, but not the soul. Ghibli’s magic isn’t just in its visuals, it’s in the breath of nature, the warmth of food, and the depth of emotions. The trend proves its lasting impact, but no AI can replicate the human touch that makes Ghibli transcend barriers of language and generations.

The lure of Ghibli 

Ghibli Studios, Hayao Miyazaki’s creation is considered one of the most visceral forms of storytelling—right up there with Disney and Pixar. Yet, Ghibli steers from the glossy princes and princesses and envelops its viewers in tales of nuanced fantastical tales with varying layered themes, ranging from anti-war propaganda, to cultivating self-love, radical love and acceptance, the desire for unearthing creativity from the mundane. The tales range from simple, slice-of-life to deeply complex tales, allowing you the freedom to choose the lesson you see. 

What lessons does Ghibli teach us? Each film—and even the art itself—offers something distinct to every viewer.

How to find rushes of creativity, as Shizuku from Whisper of the Heart

For Hilary Thompson, a Dubai-based media professional, who grew up on a diet of anime, manga and Ghibli, Whisper of the Heart remains her favourite. It’s a deeply underrated film as she feels, but is gentle in explaining that creativity spurts and inspiration can come from unlikely places. The story focuses on Shizuku, who loves writing but hesitates to take it seriously. 

When she finally commits to writing a novel, she feels insecure about whether she’s good enough. Like many artists, she is wrapped in self-doubt, wondering if her work is worthy enough. She is envious of Seiji, her schoolmate, who dedicates himself to becoming a violin-maker. “It’s a beautiful story where she learns that raw talent isn’t enough, it’s dedication that truly shapes you,” explains Thompson. And these little bursts of creativity can come to your fingertips by just simple everyday routines— all by exploration, and a little curiosity.

You need to rest, a little as Kiki will teach you

We meet Kiki in Kiki’s Delivery Service, a spirited young witch eager to prove herself, but in her rush to work hard, she forgets her own sense of balance and being. Surrounded by hardworking role models, she pushes herself too hard—until exhaustion steals her magic. The solution isn’t more effort but rest. To fly again, Kiki must just rest and rediscover the joy in what she loves. Work shouldn’t become mechanical.

Rest a little.

For the love of Nature 

Nature is alive and a spectator in Miyazaki’s films. She can be the raging waves of a Tsunami, or she can be gentle wistful gusts of wind, an entire storm, or just a field of sunflowers bobbing in the wind. She will guide you through the story: You just need to pay attention.

The forest spirits and Totoro

You can’t miss Totoro, the giant, fluffy panda-rabbit who opens every Ghibli film. As the studio’s beloved mascot, he’s an icon of childhood wonder, inspiring plushies worldwide.

In My Neighbor Totoro, sisters Satsuki and Mei move to the countryside, where acorns become treasures and their new home hums with hidden spirits. Encouraged by their father to explore, they soon encounter Totoro, a towering yet gentle forest guardian.

Though Totoro appears only briefly, his presence lingers as the girls navigate their mother’s illness, finding solace in nature’s quiet enchantments. The film shows the delight in childhood curiosity, sisterly bonds, and even traditional Shinto beliefs—culminating in a moment of reverence as the girls bow before an ancient camphor tree, where the supernatural and reality gently intertwine.

There’s magic, simplicity and love in a manner that doesn’t feel on the nose at all, instead, it just makes you want to dance with Totoro around a patch of acorn seeds. 

A desire to protect nature, Princess Mononoke

There is awe for Nature’s power, wrath and grief in Princess Mononoke. It’s what Miyazaki intended: In an interview in 1997, as quoted by Shiro Yoshioka in the book Princess Mononoke: Understanding Studio Ghibli's Monster Princess, he said that what is now considered nature in Japan is a result of total destruction of the Japanese landscape. The image that clear water still runs through untouched forests, and the idea that deities still exist there, still resides strongly in the Japanese consciousness. He explained: Earlier, Japanese people feared nature, but out of necessity cut down trees begging deities for their forgiveness.

Over time, these sentiments regarding nature evaporated, and now ‘everything has price tags’.

The lessons of ‘true’ nature are reflected in Princess Mononoke, a story revolving around Ashitaka, a young prince cursed by a demon while protecting his village. Seeking a cure, he journeys to the West and discovers a war between the industrialised Iron Town, led by Lady Eboshi, and the forest spirits, including the fierce San (Princess Mononoke), a human raised by wolves.

Caught between both sides, Ashitaka tries to mediate peace, realizing that neither humans nor nature are purely good or evil. As the battle escalates and the Forest Spirit is nearly destroyed, the film highlights themes of environmental destruction, the consequences of greed, and the need for coexistence. Every action has consequences, and harmony is possible: But it requires compromise. In the end, while nature suffers, it begins to heal, symbolising hope and the possibility of balance between humanity and the natural world.