SO, the actor Jessica Alba follows the philosophy or way of life called Wabi-Sabi. So does the rapper Will-i-am; and the tabloids are either loving it as the latest fad for celebs, or mocking it as yet more New Age junk for the gullible middle classes who have nothing better to do with their lives.

Alba has described the philosophy she "sort of lives by" as "enjoying and embracing the imperfections of real life". Where does Wabi-Sabi come from and what is it all about?

The Buddha taught that everything comes and goes, that nothing is permanent, indeed that, as the Greek sage Heraclitus put it, “no man steps in the same river twice”. This notion, that everything changes, crumbles and dies is at the heart of Wabi-Sabi.

Through a period of hundreds of years, Buddhism crossed eastwards through Asia and eventually arrived as Zen in Japan via China; the word "Zen" comes from the Chinese term "Chan", and simply means "meditation". In China, Buddhism was affected by the native philosophy of Taoism to create a more aesthetic form coupled with the strict formality and ritual derived from Confucius’s Analects.

In Japan, this sparse and disciplined form of Buddhism they called "Zen", had a formative influence on art, architecture and horticulture. From an aesthetic perspective, it introduced the revolutionary notion that things that were imperfect had a beauty or intrigue about them that perfectly formed things didn’t. This is easy to understand if you consider the appeal of a ruined castle compared to a perfect one. In Scotland, we might compare the rugged remains of Urquhart Castle on Loch Ness with the pristine Culzean Castle in Ayrshire.

A typical Japanese example would be allowing moss to grow on rocks in a garden rather than cleaning the moss off. In our culture we sometimes call this “character”.

One of my favourite writers, William Somerset Maugham, said that when he was young he loved the writings of Jonathan Swift, but as he grew older he grew irritated by the sheer perfection of Swift’s prose.

In sport those of us old enough to remember will see this aesthetic difference of taste reflected in a preference for the rough-cut Steve Ovett compared to the smooth, polite Seb Coe.

So that’s what Wabi-Sabi is: a recognition and appreciation of imperfection, of the roughness we associate with nature compared to the artificial perfection mankind aims to create in arts, crafts and mass-produced products. I love it simply because it appeals to my own gut view of things – rough and ready beats polished; but that’s a matter of personal taste. For some people, finely tuned, perfectly detailed work is what attracts them most.

I find it a bit strange that this way of seeing things and creating them has morphed into a philosophy of sorts. Strange because it is part of an already ancient and very profound philosophy of Zen Buddhism, something practised daily by millions of people not only in Japan and China but Korea and Vietnam.

However, rather than be dismissive of it, or alternatively, rushing out to try it, mindfulness would suggest that we simply look at it, see it for what it is, check out if there’s any objective scientific evidence to suggest it is worth practising.

Aspects associated with Wabi-Sabi are already commonplace and accepted. The mindset of perfectionism has been shown for decades to be unhealthy for people, both mentally and physically, so the view within the new version of Wabi-Sabi that we should not strive to make everything perfect is common sense. However it should be recognised that some people deliberately choose perfectionism, despite its negative effects on their health. Consider poor Joseph Heller. The writer worked on his classic novel Catch 22 for eight years, and it took him 13 years to finish writing his second novel, ironically titled Something Happened.

Other features of Wabi-Sabi are simple living and slowing down. Neither is new, both are healthy.

For me the best thing about Wabi-Sabi coming into play in its adapted form is that it gives fresh life to the aesthetic and artistic idea of imperfection. It plays to the Dada, minimalist, abstract and absurdist schools of art, and to the eccentric or outsider person in am overwhelmingly conformist and uniform society. In its implied appreciation of everyday things, like grass or puddles, it aligns with a poetic sensibility, as expressed beautifully by Dylan Thomas “The force that through the grew fuse drives the flower / Drives my green age …”

So for me personally, it’s a welcome new feature for those who look for practical ways to live their lives better. I’m biased of course. For me, mindfulness has an edge because there is robust evidence for the benefits it can bring us, and it sits within an ethical, psychological and philosophical framework that makes it very coherent and powerful in all aspects of our daily life.

And of course Wabi-Sabi, coming from Zen, shares its origins in that self-same intellectual and practical structure. But anything that can bring people greater contentment alongside deeper appreciation of the beauty of everyday life and objects is a good thing, and not something to be disparaged simply because film stars and musicians declare that they live by it.