Appreciate Life

Editor's note: This article originally appeared in the Spanish language magazine El Budoka. Translated by Santiago Garcia Almaraz Sensei. Read it here: La Atencion Plena

“A real man does not think of victory or defeat. He plunges recklessly towards an irrational death. By doing this, you will awaken from your dreams.” - Yamamoto Tsunetomo, Hagakure

The end of year always reminds me of the fragility of life. Maybe it is the cold or maybe it is the changing of the year. Regardless, it is easy throughout the year to think that we have time, and that life will never end. Experienced practitioners of Budo know that life is tenuous and through their training, they learn how to appreciate life.

About 15 years ago, I was approached to appear on an episode of the TV show, 1000 Ways to Die. In the interview, a producer asked me, “Why do the samurais love death?” I replied, “A samurai does not love death and in fact, a samurai learns how to live by appreciating the eventuality of their death.” That is not what they wanted to hear and thus, I did not get the part.

This TV show propagated one of the most popular misconceptions about the samurai - that they glorified death. The producers were not alone, and it seems completely logical that a person who engages in violence would somehow love it. However, nothing could be farther from the truth. The samurai were actually a sad lot who found themselves employed to do what society deems to be its most abhorrent act - killing. In fact, Japanese society thinks of blood or dead bodies as impure substances and thus anyone handling them would be deemed “unclean.” Regardless of the context of their job, a samurai does what needs to be done, but that doesn’t mean that they have to like it, let alone love it.

A samurai’s vocation dealt with death and dying but somehow, they learned how to live by accepting the fact that they were going to die. One way they could have done this was by engaging in mindfulness which is brought about by the act of appreciation.

Mindfulness is defined as “a mental state achieved by focusing one's awareness on the present moment.” However, being mindful is easier said than done. One cannot just wish to be mindful or just say that they are in a state of mindfulness. Mindfulness is something that has to be cultivated and practiced.

One hint about how to achieve mindfulness could come from a quote by The Buddhist monk Takuan Soho. Takuan was an advisor to the prolific swordsman Miyamoto Musashi. Takuan said, “Sever the edge between before and after.”

The interval between before and after that Takuan is possibly talking about is this one moment. If we cleave off the moments before and chop off the idea that there will be moments afterwards then we are left with just this one moment. The past moments can attach themselves to the present moment, but they can be thought of as illusions that may or may not have even happened. The future moments cannot be predicted thus they are merely also just illusions. In a sense, those moments before and after this single moment are not tangible and thus, we cannot be certain that those moments ever really existed or will ever come into fruition. Understanding this, we come to realize that as human beings, we are only guaranteed this moment.

To understand appreciation we can look at the Japanese concept of mono no aware (物の哀れ) or being able to “appreciate the fleeting nature of beauty.” An author on osusumebooks.com referred to mono no aware as “an awareness of the impermanence of things, and the powerful emotions that stirs within us. A sad kind of beauty, or pathos, from our awareness of both the transient lives we lead and the moments contained in them.” When we realize that we are going to die, we see the beauty in living. There is a great quote from the movie Troy that basically sums up mono no aware. Achilles says, “The Gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed.” Therefore, there is a beauty in knowing that we are going to die if we can only see it as such.

With this thinking, every day in class, we are closer to mindfulness and appreciation than we know it. In the Japanese martial arts, we say, “rei ni hajimari, rei ni owaru” (礼に始まり礼に終わる) which means “Everything begins and ends with respect.” Every day, we bow to thank our partners. This act of giving respect is nothing more than showing someone our appreciation. The secret is that the act of appreciation enables us to savor the moment because to engage in appreciation can only happen when we are mindful. That is why the martial arts are way more than just a method to kill people. True martial arts teach us how to live. That is why Rev. Kensho Furuya used to say, “true budo does not kill” or “shinmu fusatsu” (真武不殺).

When something is precious to us, we learn to appreciate it. Actively stopping to appreciate something gives us that moment back. The year is almost over but our lives might not be. Death is just means to an end. Living is hard work. That is why the Japanese say, seihakatakushihayasushi (生は難く死は易し) or “living is difficult; dying is easy.”

A good martial artist, like a samurai, knows how to live because they appreciate that they are going to die. Therefore, they savor this moment. We are only guaranteed this one. There is still time left in 2023. Don’t waste it. Appreciate it.

Support

“Fellow samurai must support each other. We are never so keenly grateful for the kindness
of others as when we have fallen on hard times.” - Oishi, The Loyal 47 Ronin

All we can do is support others on their journey. In the martial arts, progress is accomplished by jiriki (自力) or “by our own power.” Thus, the journey of the martial arts is supposed to be a singular pursuit because no one can do our work for us. However, from time to time, we all need a little bit of sentoushien (戦闘支援) or “combat support.” When thinking about support, I love this quote in the 1958 movie, The Loyal 47 Ronin. In this scene, the 47 Ronin are trying to secretly move their weapons cache so that they can take their revenge. While moving through territories, a high-ranking samurai of another clan catches the main character Oishi Kuranosuke in a lie while examining his papers. When he is caught in his deception, Oishi immediately apologizes and explains the situation. Hearing about Oishi and the other ronin’s plight to regain their honor, the samurai in charge lets them go and gives them safe passage through his territory. Hearing the verdict and being overcome with emotion, Oishi says, “Fellow samurai must support each other. We are never so keenly grateful for the kindness of others as when we have fallen on hard times.” This scene illustrates that although our journeys are solitary, we all need help.  The question one should ask is “How much support should we give?” It is tough to strike the right balance because too much support can create dependance while too little support can create undue hardship. In the martial arts, two things that we are trying to cultivate in our techniques are timing and restraint. Timing is to do the right thing at the right time. Restraint is being able to apply the right amount of power which is appropriate for the situation. The same applies in teaching. In class, teachers should think about timing and restraint in not only what they teach but in how they teach it and be mindful of the appropriateness of their corrections. In giving support, it is easy to overdo it because we intensely want people to accomplish their goals. However, we should always err on the side of balance by first keeping in mind healthy boundaries. Secondly, we should always put the ownness of change on the person who wants the change and not do the work for them. To do this, be mindful of this old Chinese proverb: “Tell me and I'll forget; show me and I may remember; involve me and I'll understand.” This proverb leads us back to the idea that helping people in the martial arts and in life should be done with just enough support so as they can still do it by their “own power.” This way the realizations and changes are their own and they learn to stand on their own two feet. We can’t do the work for anyone other than ourselves and so all we can really do is support others on their journey.   

Today’s goal: Don’t forget to be kind and lend a helping hand because every person is suffering.

Watch this video to better understand support

The Process

A good martial artist focuses on the process rather than the outcome. Most martial arts are a do (道) like Karate-do, Judo, or Aikido. Do means “way.” With this understanding, the study of a martial art is a journey. However, many mistake studying a martial art as a means to an outcome and that outcome is typically centered around winning or losing. Seeing things this way, creates a win-loss mentality where everything is either a win or a loss with nothing in between. Focusing on winning or losing is part of the journey but it is just a momentary stop. It can become pathological and turn into a bad habit if we stay in this mindset too long because constant winning or constantly focusing on winning breeds ego and causes the winner to become short sighted. The monk Shunryu Suzuki said, “In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert's there are few.” People tend to think that Suzuki Sensei’s quote means that the expert is able to bare down and focus on the one thing which leads them to success. However, this quote is in support of having a shoshin (初心) or “beginner’s mind.” In the beginning, a student has wonderment and is in awe of the vastness of the art. Later, they become jaded and lose sight of all the things which initially drew them to the art. Therefore, what this quote is alluding to is that a person with an expert’s mentality or, in this case, a person who focuses solely on winning can get tunnel vision and begin to overlook the little things. As human beings, we tend to think in terms of black or white and with a winning or losing mindset, we tend to think that when we win, all things that have happened were good or are “wins.” When we lose, we tend to think that all of things we did were bad and are “losses.” This thinking is too shortsighted, and we lose the perspective that even though the outcome was a loss, there still might be things that went well in the process. Focusing on the outcome can be self-centered because we think things are happening to “us” and thus we take it personally. When we focus on the process, we can see other things and people and see all the steps which led up to this moment which may or may not have gone well regardless of the outcome. For instance, the other day, two students did something which resulted in a loss of money. My initial response was to get angry. However, when I sat back and examined the process, I realized that both of these people were doing something to be nice to other people. Therefore, it was a good deed regardless of the outcome. Because I was able to look at the process, I was able to not make it personal and see that there was good even though the result was bad. In today’s society, many are caught up with being a “winner” but this creates an all or nothing mentality where everything will be either a win or a loss. This mentality only contributes to our suffering because like most things in the martial arts and in life there are no absolutes. In William Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Hamlet says, “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” Therefore, nothing is totally 100% good or bad. A good martial artist is able to understand this and thus they try to examine every aspect to see what works or didn’t work regardless of the outcome. When we focus on the process, we can see much more than just ourselves.

Today’s goal: Don’t make it personal. Try to see farther than yourself.

Watch this video of Seth Godin to better understand the process.

Hope

A good martial artist never loses hope. Hope is “an optimistic state of mind that is based on an expectation of positive outcomes with respect to events and circumstances in one's life or the world at large.” A few of the words for “hope” in Japanese have the character (光) for light in them. For instance, one way to say “hope” is koumyou (光明). Interestingly, koumyou also means “bright light.” Koumyou is also a Buddhist term for “the light which emanates from the Buddha” which symbolizes wisdom and compassion.” Conversely, when “we lose hope,” the Japanese say menomaegamakkuraninaru (目の前が真っ暗になる) which means “to be plunged into darkness.” Hope from this standpoint can be thought of as our inner light which guides us through the dark times. Hope may be an emotion, but it is also teachable. Thus, one of the many things that martial arts training teaches us is how to deal with discouragement. All martial arts are skill-based and as we build those skills, we are confronted with frustration and discouragement. If we tease the process out: we are shown something, we try it, we are horrible at it, we become frustrated and/or discouraged, we keep practicing, and with patience and practice, we eventually master it. In between each of those steps is hope. Someone once said, “When the world says ‘Give Up,’ Hope whispers, ‘Try it one more time.’” With hope, we realize that there is still a chance that we may prevail and that is what keeps us going. Long ago, I had a client who had a very sunny disposition and always had a smile on his face. Whenever he entered the room, he always greeted everyone, and the mood of the room always lifted. One day, he learned that he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The next time I saw him, he had lost all of his light and within only one month, he died - he had lost all hope. Furuya Sensei said, “To be discouraged is a part of training.” It is not only a part of training, but a huge part of life as well. At every stage of one’s training, no matter if we are a student or teacher, every person becomes discouraged at some point. What separates a martial artist from a normal person is that we have learned to be hopeful because we have experienced frustrations and setbacks before and have surmounted them. Later on, on the actual battlefield or on the battlefield of life, when things get bad, the student can look back upon their past difficult situations and remember how hope carried them through. That hope then becomes the light that guides them out. That is why teachers shouldn’t be too discouraging or make the learning process too frustrating. In the old days of martial arts training, discouragement was one the teacher’s main teaching tools. It was thought that a student should have “thick skin” because having thick skin was thought to be the precursor to developing mental toughness. I would argue that the thing that we are really learning in the martial arts is how to never give up no matter how hard it gets. Therefore, the true key to mental toughness is our ability to never lose hope and never give up.

Today’s goal: “If you get tired, learn to rest, not to quit.” — Banksy

Watch this video from Ted Lasso to better understand hope.

Acceptance

“A falling leaf does not hate the wind.” - Zatoichi

The best martial artists have learned acceptance. Acceptance in psychology is “a person's assent to the reality of a situation, recognizing a process or condition (often a negative or uncomfortable situation) that is a fait accompli without attempting to change it or protest it.” In Zen Buddhism, acceptance can be thought of as heijoshin (平常心) or the “peaceful mind.” Heijoshin is thought of as the state that we were born with before we “learned” to be disturbed by the ways of the world. In Japanese, “acceptance” is teinen (諦念) but it can also mean “spiritual awakening.” Therefore, we can think that by learning acceptance, our minds can become awakened. In the martial arts, acceptance looks like movement that is powerful but also graceful. In Aikido, to move single-mindedly with smoothness and power is called ki no nagare (氣の流れ) or “the flow of ki.” In the beginning of our training, we address attacks with our bodies. At this stage, we cannot move smoothly because we get caught up in addressing the attack physically while simultaneously trying to memorize the movements. This causes us to “force” the movements and everything looks kind of blocky and out of sync. With time and reps on the technique, our movements begin to smooth out. After we have memorized the movements, we can begin to address the attacks with our minds. This is where our movements really start to smooth out. To address attacks with our minds, we have to first see them without any type of emotion or baggage that we place upon them. Adding emotion, causes us to react mindlessly rather than act mindfully and thus it can change how we move. Writer Anaïs Nin said, “We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.” If Nin’s assertion is true, then we are looking at attacks, people, and situations in a skewed manner. When a person moves to strike us, our first reaction is typically fear or anger. We react in these ways because we take the attack personally and because it is personal, it activates us emotionally which could cause us to move incorrectly. To accept things as they are is to see things without placing any emotional baggage upon them. If we can look upon the attack unemotionally, then we can begin to move unencumberedly. In swordsmanship, to move unemotionally is called seichu no do, do chu no sei (靜中動 動中靜) or “movement in calmness, calmness in movement.” Learning to accept things as they are is mindset and perhaps this is why Miyamoto Musashi’s first principle in his Dokkodo or the supposed 21 rules he lived by was “Accept things as they are.” Attacks are perpetrated by human beings. Human beings are deeply complicated and complex beings who often do things not because it is personal to us but because they are suffering. Perhaps Carl Jung knew this and that is why he said, "Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.” When we can accept who we are, then we no longer search for blame, engage in victimhood, or fight against others. Thus, acceptance is a mindset. Learning to accept things as they are can enable us to move mindfully and appropriately but it can also help us to live happier and healthier lives. That is why the best martial artists have learned acceptance.

Today’s goal: “The most important point is to accept yourself and stand on your own two feet.” - Shunryu Suzuki, Soto Zen monk

Watch this video by Chris Do to better understand acceptance.

Stay Vertical

“Everyone has a spirit that can be refined, a body that can be trained in some manner, a suitable path to follow. You are here to realize your inner divinity and manifest your innate enlightenment.” - Morihei Ueshiba

All martial artists strive to stay vertical. In the beginning of Wong Kar Wai's movie, The Grandmaster, Kung-fu master Ip Man discusses the ethos of the martial arts and says, “Kung Fu, two words, horizontal-vertical. Make a mistake - horizontal. Stay standing and you win.” To me, Ip Man’s quote distills down what all martial artists are striving to do - live another day. If we can wake up, stand up, and fight another day, then on a certain level we have won. I once read that some 150,000 people die every day worldwide. So, if we are alive, then we are one of the lucky ones. If we are in fact one of the lucky ones, then what should we do with the opportunity that we have? Someone once said, “If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything.” To stand for something means to have purpose. I firmly believe that everyone has a purpose. With that being said, I also believe that most people are unaware of their life’s purpose. Some people are lucky and find their life’s purpose by happenstance, but for the rest of us, it requires a lot of trial and error. A martial artist may or may not know their life’s purpose, but they know how to find it. To study a martial art is to practice the art of incremental improvement. One way to understand this is based upon the Japanese concept of monozukuri (物作り) or the “craftsman’s mindset.” Monozukuri is a mindset, spirit, or philosophy of striving toward perfection - "striving" being the operative word, since perfection is not a destination but a journey. One thing that martial arts training teaches us is to have ichinen (一念) or "determined purpose.” Every day, when students and teachers show up to class, they should have something that they are consciously and mindfully working to perfect - this is a determined purpose. They should have a question that they are trying to answer to make themselves incrementally better. This quandary is what guides our training and helps us to make the best use of our time. For instance, let’s say that the last time you were in class, you bumped your head while being thrown. After class, you asked a senior student, and they showed you what you were doing wrong. The next day, you would purposefully try to be mindful of that nuance so that you could use it to perfect your roll. Having the mindfulness of determined purpose helps us to get good at a martial art. Later, we apply that same mindful awareness to other aspects of our lives outside the dojo and this is where training and life start to crossover. Viktor Frankl said, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.” A martial artist understands this and that is why they are people of purpose and strive to stay vertical.

Today’s goal: As St. Jerome said, “Good, better, best. Never let it rest. 'Til your good is better and your better is best.”

Watch the opening scene from Wong Kar Wai’s The Grandmaster

Stand Alone

花は桜木人は武士
Hana wa sakura gi hito wa bushi
Sakura among flowers, warriors among people.

The best martial artist stands alone. The Japanese say, “hana wa sakura gi hito wa bushi” (花は桜木人は武士) or “Cherry blossoms among flowers, warriors among people.” This proverb is supposed to mean that the cherry blossom is the most beautiful flower and that the warrior is supposed to be the best human being. In order to be the best, a martial artist has to stand alone and be a person of character. All martial arts are a hitoritabi (独り旅) or “a solo journey” and where we go, we go alone. I am not saying a person who studies a martial art is a loner nor am I saying that they are lonely. To be alone, in a martial arts sense, is to toil on one’s own. Also, where we are going in martial arts training is on a journey of self-discovery and like all self-discoveries, the realizations must be made by the self. If we always rely on others, then we run the risk of being defeated when they are not there to help us. Parents, teachers, and friends can help us, but they cannot punch the bag for us, sweep that leg, or dodge that strike coming towards our head. We alone have to defend ourselves. After all that’s why it’s called “self-defense” and that’s why our work is our work. When we put forth the effort, then we in turn can learn the lessons that enable us to stand alone in not only the martial arts but in life as well. The martial arts journey may be a solo one, but its training is always done with others. If we stop and think about it, all martial arts require at least two people. In class, teachers teach us and students give us their bodies to practice on. Without them, we wouldn’t be able to achieve our highest level. A second person is even necessary when practicing a kata (型) or “an individual training exercise” because the outer you is doing the kata while the inner you is leading you, guiding you and perfecting you. Thus, on a certain level, we are never really alone. In Japanese, they say kyakkashouko (脚下照顧) or “seek enlightenment by knowing yourself and not by watching others.” No one can fight our battles for us and as much as we might not like it, no one will care as much about it as we do. A day will come when we will all have to stand up on our own two feet and rise above. If we have been leaning on others in order to be successful, then there is no way that we can be a warrior among people. No one can fight our battles for us and thus, a real martial artist has to kogunfuntou (孤軍奮闘) or “fight alone.” 18th Century Anglican Cleric Laurence Sterne said, “In solitude the mind gains strength and learns to lean upon itself.” What Sterne is alluding to is that when we go alone, it builds this inner strength that can’t be taught but can be learned. We learn it by teaching it to ourselves. To study a martial art is to travel alone down a path of self-discovery where we have to do our own work. A martial artist is a person of character who stands alone as a warrior among human beings.

Today’s goal: Your work is your work. No one can do it for you.

Watch this video to better understand being alone

The Blame Game

“A falling leaf does not hate the wind.” - Zatoichi

The best martial artists blame. I know what you are thinking, “Isn’t blaming others a slippery slope and a key part of having a victim mentality?” Yes, blaming others can create a mindset of negativity and can continue the cycle of being a victim. A martial artist doesn’t blame others because they are supposed to be a learned person or a person of stature and to blame others is to give away their ownership. However, a martial artist does assign blame to a higher power and thus they blame it all on fate. The Japanese of old believed in inochi (命) or “fate.” Today, inochi means “life” but in the past it meant “fate” or “karma.” Thus, whenever something untoward happens, a Japanese person shrugs their shoulders, says, “shouganai” and moves on. Shouganai (仕様が無い) means “it can't be helped.” Once, I asked Furuya Sensei if his grandfather of samurai stock ever talked about being interned during WWII. He said the only thing his grandfather said was, “War is war. It is shoganai.” By saying, “shouganai” the Japanese aren’t giving themselves up to fate but instead they are using it to acceptance their fate and use it to their advantage. The Japanese way of looking at fate is similar to the stoic usage of amor fati or “the love of fate.” Amor fati is “an attitude in which one sees everything that happens in one's life, including suffering and loss, as good or, at the very least, necessary.” Perhaps this understanding of fate is why Miyamoto Musashi’s first principle in his Dokkodo or the supposed 21 rules he lived by was “Accept things as they are.” When we blame it on fate and no one else, we learn to not take things personally. When we don’t take things personally, we take back that aspect of our lives that we can control - our own actions and fate is merely the outcome. In Aikido, there is a huge component of leading our opponents. Peter Goldsbury Sensei on Aikiweb described leading as suikomu (吸い込む). He wrote, “The Chinese character is the second character of the compound word kokyuu (呼吸), meaning, breath. The primary meaning is to inhale, suck in, swallow up, the third meaning leading to a metaphor of putting a person in a position such that he/she has no choice but to do what you want him/her to do.” In class, I often ask the students working on a technique, “Who is in charge?” It is a trick question. Whomever I am speaking to either the uke or “the one receiving the technique” or the nage or “the one doing the technique” is suppose to answer, “I am.” They are both supposed to say that they are because every person is supposed to be in control of themselves. The nage is in control of the timing, taking the person’s balance and throwing them to name just a few. The uke is controlling themselves to not only make a good attack, but also controlling when they are allowing their balance to be broken and thus allowing themselves to be thrown. Doing Aikido in this manner, Aikido training becomes a metaphor for life: Take control of yourself (how you move) and leave the rest to fate (how the throw turns out). The best martial artist never blame anyone else, not even themselves - they only accept things as they are.   

Today’s goal: Furuya Sensei once wrote, “Why do I blame the teapot for spilling which has no crime, it is all my fault for not being awake!”

Watch this video to better understand Amor Fati

To The Point

A good martial artist gets straight to the point. One way to say, “straight to the point” in Japanese is tantouchokunyuu (単刀直入). Tantou means “single sword” and chokunyuu means “straight in.” Presumably, a martial artist should be as succinct as stabbing someone with a sword. In the dojo, we learn how to stand up for ourselves physically, but we also learn how to stand up for ourselves mentally and emotionally too. When we bow to our training partners, we are supposed to stand up straight, make a good bow and confidently say, “onegaishimasu.” How we bow and speak demonstrates to others not only our level of training but also our level of self-confidence. To be able to speak straight to the point is a skill that most people only acquire with age and experience. When I was a student, one of the best lessons I learned from Furuya Sensei was how to calmly say exactly what I wanted to say. It seems kind of ridiculous, but when we get nervous, scared, or anxious, we tend to just blurt things out. One of the first times I ever spoke to Furuya Sensei privately, he asked me about a conversation I was having with another student after class. Being a teenager and unsure of myself, I just blurted out, “We were talking about how Aikido doesn’t work.” I neglected to add in that the other person was saying that to me and that I was just listening to be polite. That indiscretion led to a two hour lecture and when I say lecture, that is a euphemism for getting yelled at. That type of error in judgement happened probably a half dozen more times until I finally realized how to speak to Sensei. I realized that I needed to know exactly what I wanted to say before speaking to Sensei because he hated small talk and loathed people who minced their words. It was always painful to watch people squirm as Sensei dressed them down because they didn’t know that he hated to be asked, “How are you?” Watching others successfully negotiate Sensei, I learned to plan out exactly what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. Then, before I knocked on his door, I would take a deep breath and gather myself and then speak to him calmly, confidently, and get straight to the point. We were supposed to say, “Good morning, Sensei (greeting). I need to speak to you about the uniforms (subject). Do you have time to discuss this right now? (timing)” If Sensei wanted to talk about this, then I would state my case as I rehearsed it. Seems easy enough but as a teenager this required a lot of discipline and courage. Although it was difficult and painful, I learned through my engagements with Sensei that everything in the martial arts was about precision and precision necessitated that we always be clear and direct with not only our movements but with our conversations as well. Being clear, concise, and straight to the point, helps us to avoid misunderstandings and unnecessary conflicts and that is why a good martial artist gets straight to the point.

Today’s goal: Be calm and get straight to the point.

Watch this video to better understand conciseness

The Truth

The best martial artists are seekers of truth. In Japanese, “truth” or “reality” is jitsu (実). You might be thinking, “Don’t we live in reality?” The short answer is no. Most of us live in something psychologists call confabulation. Confabulations are the stories that our brains tell us that are created to justify our positions as either the hero or victim in our minds. On a certain level, it is our self-talk. Most of the confabulations in our stories come from something called unconscious bias or those biases are based upon old memories or social conditioning. The danger in stories based upon bias is that they could end up being wrong or untrue and in the martial arts being wrong could result in being defeated. Unconscious biases are based upon something from our past which our minds have stored to be used later. Storing it to be used later comes from this idea of Information Theory and how our brains take in information. According to Information Theory, our conscious minds can take in less than 1,000 bits of information per second. Conversely, our subconscious minds can take in somewhere around 10-20 million bits of information per second. Thus, to cover the shortfall of the conscious mind, our subconscious minds fill in the blind spots with past data or unconscious bias. This could be the difference between optimists and pessimists. If our unconscious bias is positive, then our bias is filled in optimistically and we see the world as abundant. If our bias is negative, then we fill in the stories with all the bad things that we have experienced and we see the world pessimistically. In the martial arts, we use this understanding of the subconscious to our advantage. Traditional martial arts training is rooted in kurikaeshi (繰り返し) or “repetition.” It is thought that when we concentrate for a long period of time on something, our minds tend to go into a subconscious state. Some call this subconscious state “the zone.” When this happens, we are either moving from subconscious imprinting or imprinting the subconscious and creating unconscious bias. It is thought that the conscious mind is too slow to respond to an attack and so the subconscious mind, which has been imprinted with repetitive movement, negotiates the attack quickly and intuitively. There is no time to think and there is no time to judge; there is only time to instinctively move. Supposedly, the subconscious mind can respond as fast as 0.08 seconds while it takes the conscious mind almost twice as long at 0.20 seconds. With time and training, we realize that our minds are “helping” us by filling in the blanks with unconscious bias. Realizing this, a martial artist wants to know where else in their lives or in their brains their minds are doing this. Therefore, a martial artist searches for the truth to see what is real or what is a story that they have been telling themselves which is blinding them from the truth. In Buddhism this is called nyojitsu (如実) or “the absolute truth.” Sun Tzu said, “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.” A good martial artist knows how to beat others. A great martial artist knows how to defeat themselves and that’s why the best martial artists are seekers of truth.

Today’s goal: What stories have you been telling yourself? Are they true?

Watch this video to better understand the power of stories

Mushin - No-Mind

Editor’s note: This article was written by Ito Sensei and published in the September 2023 edition of El Budoka Magazine.
Read the Spanish version

The place that all martial artists are striving for in their training is mushin (無心) or “no mind.” When we say “no-mind” we don’t mean a place of apathy or indifference. In Buddhism, it is said that in a state of mushin, “the mind only observes and does not react.” Miyamoto Musashi’s advisor the monk Takuan Soho wrote in his book The Unfettered Mind that “When this No-Mind has been well developed, the mind does not stop with one thing nor does it lack any one thing.” In Aikido, this mushin state is referred to as ki no nagare (氣の流れ) or “the flow of ki.” In ki no nagare, our minds flow and our bodies follow. Therefore, mushin or ki no nagare is a place in one’s training where nothing exists but at the same time everything exists; there is movement, but at the same time there is no movement.

Mushin and ki no nagare are those esoteric or abstract Japanese concepts that are easy to talk about but hard to truly cultivate. Mushin and ki no nagare have this quality of being transparent or intangible or have this feeling of being “without” form.

Bruce Lee famously said, “Don't get set into one form, adapt it and build your own, and let it grow, be like water. Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless — like water. Now you put water in a cup, it becomes the cup; You put water into a bottle it becomes the bottle; You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot.” People often take this to mean that Bruce Lee is advocating that forms are too rigid and have no place in martial art training.

I think that what Bruce Lee is saying about forms is largely taken out of context. On a certain level, Bruce Lee is not talking about learning a traditional martial art but rather he is talking about the mindset one must have while engaging in the act of fighting. You might be thinking, “Aren’t they the same thing?” No, they are not.

A martial art is a system of body and mind development. Fighting is “displaying or engaging in violence, combat, or aggression.” The end goal of the martial arts is the cultivation of the self. The end goal of fighting is the destruction of the other. In fighting, we must use any means necessary to fell our opponents. At the same time, to overcome the chaos that comes with being in a fight, our minds must be spontaneous and “flow like water.” In learning a martial art, we must adhere to a form and use that form as vehicle to not only develop our bodies but to develop our minds more importantly.

Interestingly, the muishizen (無為自然) or the “spontaneous”mind that comes at the moment when one is fighting at a high level is the same mindset that a martial artist is striving to cultivate in their training and at every moment throughout their entire life. In Aikido, this muishizen mental state that we are striving for in ki no nagare. When our ki is flowing it is said to be kouzennoki (浩然の氣) or “unencumbered by worldly concerns” and this is what Bruce Lee could be alluding to when he says, “be like water.”

The difficult thing is that most of us cannot begin with a “be like water” mindset. In Japanese traditional training, it is thought that one can only reach this state by first adhering to a form, then mastering the form, and, finally, losing the form. The Japanese believe this because they understand that mindset is harder to develop than the body.

One theory is that the “body” exists externally and so it is easier to cultivate. To cultivate the body, we just need to put in the repetitions, and this is why mastering the body is always the first level. It is the easiest because it is singular.

The mind is different because it is faster, multifaceted, and more complex. Some researchers think that the average person has up to 60,000 thoughts per day where 80% are negative, and up to 95% are the exact same repetitive thoughts that we thought the day before. Therefore, because the mind is not singular and has so many negative and repetitive thoughts that is why it is harder to cultivate.

This is where the martial arts training comes in. Martial arts training requires the student to adhere to a set of movements that have to be done in a precise way. To be exacting requires total mental concentration. This focus helps to create singularity of the mind. Overtime, once we have cultivated the skill of a singular mind and routinely use our minds in a singular way, our minds have a breakthrough. At this breakthrough that singular focus ceases to become fixed - it becomes like a moving meditation. This is where Takuan Soho’s assertion of the “non-abiding” mind comes into play. To have a “non-abiding mind” is to have a mind which flows and does not become preoccupied with any one thing. It observes and does not react.

The way the Japanese understand mushin and kata in the martial arts is similar to how Buddhists understand emptiness. In the Heart Sutra it is written, shikisokuzeku (色即是空) or “form is emptiness, emptiness is form.” “Form is emptiness, emptiness is form” is very abstract. Supposedly, this concept came about when Siddhartha gained enlightenment and became the Buddha. The story goes that Siddhartha was starving himself under the bodhi tree and was given some rice porridge by Sujata. Upon receiving the rice, he realized that by fasting and giving up all world matters and entering into “emptiness” that there was no karma. The Buddha’s karma is to save all beings and thus in order to have emptiness, one must have karma and attachments and thus “form is emptiness, emptiness is form.” The same goes for the mastery of the martial arts. We have to have a form that we have mastered in order to let go of it and allow the movements to flow.

Therefore, what Bruce Lee is asserting by directing us to “be like water” is that at some place in our training, we must let go of the form of the movement so that we can be spontaneous or allow our minds and the movements to flow. I don’t think he is advocating to never have form but rather that at a certain level of one’s development, adhering to form is no longer necessary.

Form, structure, or plans are necessary. No one just learns how to write spontaneously. Most need to trace the letters first, then make the letters into words, and then form those words into sentences. Only then will their words be understandable, cognizant, and impactful. Until then they will just be unintelligible  scribbles on cave walls.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “Sow a thought and you reap an action; sow an act and you reap a habit; sow a habit and you reap a character; sow a character and you reap a destiny.” Thus, every action begins as a thought.

The martial arts don’t exist to teach us how to destroy other people - it is far more deeper than that. The martial arts are a way of living. In the martial arts, to achieve mushin or ki no nagare is to have a mind that is free from emotion and burden which improves every aspect of our daily lives. When our minds flow freely, our bodies will follow spontaneously - that is mushin.

Standards

The best martial artists strive to live their lives by standards. Martial arts training transcends mere physical prowess; it's more than just beating people up. It has to delve deeper and offer more fulfillment, or else life would hold little meaning. To study a martial art is to study the self. When we study ourselves, we learn about our truths, but we realize our untruths as well. One thing that is revealed to us in our training is this concept of kijun (基準) or “standards.” In training, we learn that preferences are different than standards. Preferences are what we tend to like or don’t like, and those desires are whimsical and subject to change based upon mood, availability, or situation. Standards are firm and are more like the principles that we choose to live our lives by which guide all of our behaviors, attitudes, and actions. Standards are different than rules; while rules often feel imposed by others, standards are a choice. Standards are also different than goals. Motivational speaker Eric Thomas said, “Goals move, standards don’t.” Standards ensure that goals are achieved. We can have standards without having goals, but we can’t achieve goals without having standards. Standards are also different than a code of conduct. Codes of conducts are mainly just words like “honor” or “sacrifice.” Standards are more like these mantras that we hold steadfast and won’t break easily like “I don’t lie” or “I don’t steal.” Standards are also different than boundaries as a boundary cannot create a standard, but a standard can help to create a boundary. Standards are about taking ownership of ourselves, and they are reflected in the quality of our actions and level of personal development. In the dojo, we learn pretty quickly that we are held to a standard because with each promotion in rank comes not only a set of standards but also responsibilities. For instance, senior students are expected to train hard with their juniors to develop them but not to the point that they are beaten up. Standards dictate how we act or control ourselves when something untoward happens to us. Epictetus said, “We can’t control what happens to us, we can only control how we respond to it.” Every day in the dojo and in life, we are buffeted by forces that are out of our control. Understanding Epictetus’ quote, we realize that the only thing we can control is us and we control ourselves by adhering to the standards that we set forth for ourselves. A martial artist has to be the kind of person that does what they say they will do and that’s why the Japanese say, “bushi no ichigon kintetsu no gotoshi” (武士の一言金鉄の如し) or that “A warrior’s word is as reliable as gold or iron.” It is reliable because a warrior’s standard won’t allow them to break it. What does it really mean to be an Aikidoist, a teacher, or a person who follows the Way? All of these questions and many more can be answered when we look inward and see what we hold to be true and then in turn live our lives by those truths. Everything else is just words, desires, or the things we say and do so that people will like us. Yoda said, “a Jedi craves not these things” and neither does a martial artist. A true martial artist stands alone because they choose to live their life by their standards.

Today’s goal: Do you have real standards or are they just strong preferences?

Watch this video to better understand standards

Starting Over

“The hand must be like a bamboo leaf, the feet like rolling logs, the eyes like a flitting sparrow, the heart like a polished mirror, and the mind must always remain in its beginning.” - A quote attributed to Rev. Kensho Furuya

The best martial artist has a starting over mindset. Every morning when a martial artist wakes up, they should think to themselves that they are starting over. I don’t mean starting over from a negative or defeated sense. I mean starting over from the Japanese sense of shoshin (初心) which means “original intention” or what Zen Buddhists refer to as “the beginner’s mind.” To have a beginner’s mind is to have a mind that is wiped clean and freed from all the baggage that one has accumulated from the trials and tribulations of life and all of its social conditioning. In Japanese, yarinaosu (遣り直す) means “to start over.” Yari means “to do” and naosu means “to fix.” Understanding this, starting over is to do something better because we have, theoretically, fixed it and would then become more successful. Interestingly, we can see this yarinaosu or starting over mentality in author, Brian Tracy’s Zero-based Thinking. He said, “Practice ‘zero-based thinking’ in every part of your life. Ask yourself continually, "If I were not doing this already, knowing what I now know, would I start doing it again today?" If it is something you would not start again today, knowing what you now know, it is a prime candidate for abandonment or creative procrastination.” So, each morning, we should adopt Brian Tracy’s approach and think about starting over. In starting over, we should think about the things, habits, situations, or people which have served us, helped us, or were of some benefit to us. Those things which are a benefit to us, we should embrace or accentuate. Those things, people, or habits which are not beneficial or are not supporting us, we should move away from them. We should also carry this same starting over mentality into the dojo. Furuya Sensei used to say, "Cut off your head and leave it outside the door.” What he meant was that we should leave the cares, worries, and baggage of the external world outside. The dojo is supposed to be a sanctuary or a place of respite from the outside world where we go to improve ourselves. However, the dojo is just a place. It can only become a sanctuary when we can step over the threshold without the cares of the outside world. In a sense, we have to walk in with a cleared state of mind or as if we have “cut off our heads.” A martial artist is a person who is trying to better themselves. One way to do this is to take a regular inventory of ourselves and those elements in our lives. The best time to do this is in moments just after we wake up where our subconscious minds are supposedly in the most susceptible state and open to suggestion. By taking an inventory and using “knowing what you know now, what would you do or do differently,” we can imprint our subconsciousness for success and seemingly start our lives over. This is something that any person can do martial artist or otherwise. A true martial artist is an alchemist because they have the ability to change themselves and they do this by continually starting over.

Today’s goal: Think about those things which don’t serve you and wipe the slate clean.

Editor's note: We attributed this quote to Furuya Sensei because we cannot be 100% sure it was from him or written by him as the source is not verifiable.

Watch this video of Brian Tracy explaining Zero-based Thinking

Open Heart

In time, all things work to your advantage when you pursue them with an open heart. - Miyamoto Musashi.

The best martial artist strives to be open-hearted. In Japanese to be kisaku (氣さく) means to be “open-hearted,” “kind,” or “ready.” Thus, from the kanji (氣) we can see that being open-hearted has something to do with putting our energy into something. To be open-hearted is “to be kind, wishing for good, or benevolent.” In the martial arts, to be open-hearted is demonstrated at the highest level of enlightenment by an open stance. To stand openly is to seemingly not put up any defenses. To the uninformed, “to stand completely open to an attack” or kyo (虚) is the fastest way to be defeated. However, when a person of experience stands openly, they are implying that “no matter how you attack, I can defend” and their stance is a demonstration of their level of development. In the past, a person who studied the warrior arts had to be muzan (無残) or “ruthless” because it was their job to engage in violence and so it was in their best interest to stand with a closed stance. Interestingly, muzan literally translates to mean “nothing left” which paints this picture of a person who is closed off and capable of utter destruction. As with standing in an open stance, having an open heart is a dangerous thing unless a person understands how to manage it. Without discernment, we can accidentally set ourselves up to be used or abused by others. In the dojo, we train to develop ourselves so that no person can take advantage of us physically. Some training partners try to give their partners a “real” attack and attack them harshly or recklessly. With this rough attack, they're thinking “no one on the street would ever hold back” and so by attacking with all their strength, they are “teaching” them what it is like to be attacked for real. They are not wrong and there is some truth to this. However, by attacking this way, they aren’t showing their level of awareness for their partner’s level nor are they showing their partners any compassion or empathy - they don’t show their open-heartedness. Furuya Sensei advocated that we “train with people to their level and one step farther.” Training to their level shows our level of awareness. Pushing them only one step farther demonstrates our compassion - we push them to help them grow. Most times, we train roughly with people because we are scared, closed off, or clouded by our own baggage. Miyamoto Musashi said, “In time, all things work to your advantage when you pursue them with an open heart.” What he could be alluding to is that the beginnings of becoming a person with an open heart begins with intentionality. Having the intention of being “open” enables us to train to our fullest and also train with others to their fullest. Pouring our hearts into our training will lead to opening our hearts in all aspects of our lives. When we work hard and develop ourselves, we will gain the courage to open ourselves up to whatever the powers that be have in store for us. That is why the best martial artists are ready for anything and thus strive to be open-hearted.

Today’s goal: Furuya Sensei said, “Trying hard to learn, also means to be easy to teach. Easy to teach means to come to the dojo with an open heart and mind.”

Watch this video to better understand intentionality and an open heart

Use Fear

“Never fear another challenger, no matter how large;
Never despise another challenger, no matter how small.” - Morihei Ueshiba

The best martial artists use fear to their advantage. Osore (恐れ) or “fear” is defined as “an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.” Every person has fear and all of our fears are relative. The problem is not so much the presence of fear but in how we deal with it. Morihei Ueshiba said, “Never fear another challenger, no matter how large; Never despise another challenger, no matter how small.” With the addition of “never despise another challenger, no matter how small,” O’Sensei’s assertion helps us to understand discernment and the development of equanimity in our training. Equanimity is the ability to have composure in the face of adversity and its attainment is one of the highest skills in the martial arts. One way to develop a mindset that is not swayed one way, or another is through something I like to call confrontation therapy where the martial artist confronts that which causes them fear. They confront it because they want to see what is on the other side of that fear. In confronting our fears, we could find out that our fears are true, or we could realize that they are unfounded, just some story we tell ourselves, or just something that we make bigger the more we focus on it. Regardless of the outcome, we learn something about ourselves. For instance, every person has someone in their school that they don’t particularly like for one reason or another. Because that person causes us to be uncomfortable or afraid, we avoid them. Avoiding them, on a certain level, gives them an invisible advantage over us because their mere presence controls us. Because they control us, our minds are not equanimous. Understanding this, we actively seek them out to train or engage with them. We may or may not become best friends with that person, but by sitting with our fears or feelings, we take the edge off it and dissolve their advantage over us. With every fear we confront, we come to realize that we can be our own worst enemy and that we sometimes give our fears more power than they deserve. All martial artists are trying to become undefeatable. Carl Jung said, “Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.” Thus, to become undefeatable, we must know ourselves and confront our fears. When we become undefeatable, fear alone won’t be able to stop us. Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “He who is not everyday conquering some fear has not learned the secret of life.” Emerson could be alluding to the fact that managing our fears is the secret to life and that it is a skill that needs to be practiced every day. Perhaps that is why the Japanese say, dojo de naki, senjou de warau (道場で泣き戦場で笑う) or “Cry in the dojo, laugh on the battlefield.” Everyone has fear and so do martial artists. The only difference is that the best martial artists have learned how to use their fears to their advantage.  

Today’s goal: Remember, Mark Twain said, “Courage is not the absence of fear but acting in spite of it.”

Watch this to better understand using fear to your advantage

See No Problems

“Perception is strong and sight weak. In strategy it is important to see distant things as if they were close and to take a distanced view of close things.” - Miyamoto Musashi

The best martial artists don’t see problems. Don’t get me wrong. It is not that martial artists don’t “have” problems; they just choose not to “see” them in terms of being something negative. This is more than having a positive mental attitude. A martial artist is supposed to approach problems unemotionally and just see them as challenges that need to be overcome. That is why one of the highest teachings in the martial arts is equanimity. One way to say “problem” in Japanese is nukisashinaranu (抜き差しならぬ). Nuki (抜き) pertains to “drawing one’s sword” and thus one gets into a “sticky situation” and has a problem drawing their sword. Martial artists choose not to get tangled up in problems because they are supposed to be solution based people who kaitouranma (快刀乱麻) or “solve problems swiftly and skillfully.” Kaitouranma is supposed to refer to the legend of Alexander the Great who solved the puzzle of the Gordian Knot. A Gordian Knot is a famous problem that consisted of "several knots all so tightly entangled that it was impossible to see how they were fastened.” An oracle had been foretold that any man who could unravel the Gordian Knot would become the ruler of Asia. In 333 BC, Alexander the Great was challenged to untie the knot. At first Alexander struggled to untie the complicated knot as everyone in the palace looked on. Supposedly, he eventually realized that the method of untying the knot was inconsequential. At that moment, he stepped back, drew his sword, and cut the knot with one stroke. Alexander shifted his focus from the intricacies of the problem (a complicated knot) to seeking a solution (just cut it) – a powerful psychological shift. Psychologically, when we focus on the problem and all its complicated details, it causes the problem to become more complicated or the knot gets tighter. Conversely, when we focus on finding solutions, our minds tend to see the in-betweens and solutions begin to arise or the knot becomes looser. Thus, focusing on the problem is just the negative way we look at a circumstance while focusing on solutions is the positive way we look at a problem. Author Byron Katie noted, "Everything happens for you, not to you." Embracing this notion, perceiving events as happening "for" us, rather than "to" us, enables us to reclaim our power and our problem-solving ability. When Alexander faced the Gordian Knot, he could have viewed it as a challenge that highlighted his shortcomings. Instead, he chose to see it as an opportunity that would elevate him to greatness. This philosophy also has parallels in martial arts training too. Each challenge in the dojo serves to elevate us. Opportunities like difficult techniques, injuries, or difficult people all contribute to our growth. Thus, when we change our perception, we can begin to see everything as an opportunity “for” us which is leading us to our highest level and that is why the best martial artists don’t see problems.

Today’s goal: “Everything happens for you” and thus, choose to change the way you see your circumstances.

Watch this video to better understand having a solutions based mindset

Self-Care

“Do not let the body be dragged along by the mind nor the mind be dragged along by the body.”
- Miyamoto Musashi

The best martial artists are masters of self-care. Self-care is “anything you do to take care of yourself so you can stay physically, mentally, and emotionally well.” On a certain level, the Japanese don’t have an actual word for “self-care.” Typically, they use serufukea (セルフケア) which is Japanized from English. Because they borrow a word, one could posit that they don’t have one because Japanese society functions as a group and thus openly spending time on oneself could be seen as being wagamama (我が儘) or “selfish.” Nevertheless, self-care is important because how we care for ourselves can be a window into our shinrijoutai (心理状態) or “state of mind.” When I was in graduate school for acupuncture, we learned in the Psychology of Patient Care to look at things like hygiene, physical appearance, and clothing as clues to ascertain the patient’s true state of mental health. The idea is that the more a person takes care of their physical appearance, the more stable their mental health is or at least how well they put up a good front. In the martial arts movie, Bodyguards and Assassins, the protagonist Master Li enlists the help of a despondent homeless person in the final battle. This bearded and disheveled homeless man is depressed over the death of his father and girlfriend and spends his days drinking, and doing drugs. As the two drink wine, they reminisce about their life sacrifices, disappointments, and the desperateness of the upcoming battle. A few scenes later the beggar is seen cleaning himself up. While looking in the mirror and shaving, he seemingly remembers himself. In the final battle, the beggar turns out to be none other than Liu Yubai, a famous martial artist who specializes in the use of the iron fan. He courageously and skillfully holds off a group of assassins before becoming mortally wounded. When called upon, Liu Yubai cleaned himself up so that he could face his death with dignity and die as a hero instead of a beggar. Seeing this, I realized that self-care is the precursor to self-dignity or the value we place upon ourselves. The act of taking care of ourselves is what creates self-dignity. In the martial arts, if an opponent can figure out our mental state, then they would know how to defeat us and so we practice self-care as a means to keep our opponents at bay. Self-care is one method of improving our minds and moods. Who doesn’t feel better after a shower, coming back from the dojo, or taking a break? Thus, self-care is not just about hygiene. Self-care is the dignity with which we approach the mundane things in our lives like brushing our teeth, meditating, or exercising, to name just a few. This could be one of the reasons why etiquette in the martial arts is so important. The idea is that those who have taken the time to master something as benign as etiquette probably have taken the time to master the intricacies of the technique because as Martha Beck stated, “How you do anything is how you do everything.” Thus, in the martial arts and in life, taking care of ourselves isn’t selfish, it shows how we feel about ourselves and demonstrates our true inner state of mind. We take care of ourselves to show others that we won’t go easily and that is why the best martial artists are masters of self-care.

Today’s goal: Take care of yourself because you matter.

Watch this video to better understand self-care.

Worry Better

The best martial artist uses worry to make them better. Worry or shinpai (心配) is the martial artist’s frenemy. Worry is our frenemy because it can be used to our advantage but in excess it can hurt us as well. In Japanese, they say bushi wo mitaradoroboutoomoe (武士を見たら泥棒と思え) or that “Warriors always assume the worst in people.” Warriors have to always err on the side of caution because they never want to be on the receiving end of a surprise attack or an act of betrayal. Therefore, up to a certain level, worrying is a tool that helps to keep us safe. However, too much worry like in a catastrophizing way can mi wo kezuru (身を削る) or “take a toll on our bodies.” Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “The ancestor of every action is a thought.” Emerson’s quote could be the impetus that led to the idea that if we want to change our circumstances then we should merely change our thoughts. The only problem is that thoughts are hard to change. Some researchers think that the average person has up to 60,000 thoughts per day and that 80% of those thoughts are negative. Martial artists understand that things on the inside are harder and slower to change. Therefore, they attack their problems from the outside and seek to change their minds with action. From a neurological standpoint there is some evidence that supports this idea from something called muscle-brain cross talk. In muscle-brain cross talk, the theory is that when we contract our muscles, they secrete hormones and chemicals into our bloodstream that travel to our brains and act as an antidepressant. This is one reason why exercise makes us feel better. Therefore, when we feel the pangs of worry, we should use that as a signal that it is time to get up and move and this supports the assertion that “every action begins with a thought” but we don’t change our thoughts to change our actions. We change our minds by moving our bodies which in turn will improve our moods. Martial arts training deals in things that are designed to be lethal and so it is only natural that its practice can elicit fear or worry. On a certain level, martial arts training is exposure therapy or that it helps people “to overcome their fears and anxieties by breaking the pattern of fear and avoidance.” Ideally, the more we stand up and move to confront our fears, the less our fears manage us and the faster we can overcome them. At a certain point in our training, this desensitization begins to crossover into our daily lives and worry controls us less and less. There is no one who is without worry or fear. A good martial artist learns how to manage their fears or worries. However, the best martial artists use worry to motivate them and go from good to great. In Yamamoto Tsunetomo’s book Hagakure, he writes, “Whenever you meet difficult situations, dash forward bravely and joyfully.” Thus, in the martial arts and in life, whenever something causes you concern, don’t worry, just move forward and attack. The best martial artists don’t mind a little worry, they just use it to make them better.

Today’s goal: Whenever you feel yourself start to worry, get up and move.

Watch this video to better understand using fear to make you better

Unsung Heroes

“By protecting others, you save yourself.” - Kambei Shimada, Seven Samurai

The best martial artist strives to be an unsung hero. In Japanese, an “unsung hero” is ennoshitanochikaramochi (縁の下の力持ち) and is considered to be someone who does a “thankless task.” A person who is capable of being an unsung hero has put in the work to suppress their ego and developed themselves as a human being. To engage in unsung hero behavior is to work for the benefit of others even if it means sacrificing oneself. The place that we are all trying to get to in our training is mushin (無心) or “nothingness.” One way to get there is that we have to learn to abandon ourselves. To abandon oneself is to be able to move with kouzennoki (浩然の氣) which means to be “unencumbered” physically, mentally, and spiritually. To be able to shed our attachments in the spiritual world, we must first shed them in the physical world. One way to do this is to work selflessly for the benefit of others and that is possibly why the term samurai (侍) means “one who serves.” One of the main tenets of a warrior’s life is to act without the desire for reward. In Buddhism, “to let go of any desire for reward or fear of punishment” is called mukudoku (無功徳). Selfishness, on a certain level, is a primal survival mechanism and thus, if we don’t take of ourselves, we won’t survive. However, this is not the Paleolithic era, and we don’t live in caves. The modern martial artist is supposed to be a sophisticatedly evolved human being who uses martial arts training to develop themselves. To effectively work for the benefit of others, we have to develop a high level of sensitivity. In class, one way to develop this sensitivity is in terms of attacking suki or “weak points.” In martial arts training, we train ourselves to become “good at finding weak points” or suki wo mitsukeru noga jozu desu (隙を見つけるのが上手です). Being able to find  weak points enable us to suki wo mitsukeru (隙を見つける) or “to seize an opportunity” and gain the victory. The idea is that stronger opponents have weak points which are harder to find. To effectively find them requires a certain level of sensitivity and self-development. To capitalize upon an opening which is fleeting in the moment also requires a large amount of self-sacrifice. We cannot jump into the void if we hold our lives near and dear. Wars are not won by grand gestures but by the little and oftentimes intangible things which aren’t readily apparent to the uninitiated. The best martial artists do things that no one will ever see to ensure that others have a good time, are cared for, and are safe even if it means sacrificing their own good time, comfort, or safety. Quietly working for the benefit of others is the highest level in martial arts training and that is why the best martial artist strives to be the unsung hero.

Today’s goal: Do something for someone without letting them know. 

The Lucky Ones

武運長久
Buunchoukyuu
Continued luck in the fortunes of war - Japanese idiom

The best martial artists are one of the lucky ones. Oftentimes, our egos make us think that we are somehow the best because we are gifted or talented. Being able to become the best is really more about luck than skill. In Japanese, one way to say blessed, luck, or fortune is sawai (幸い). Luck is defined as “success or failure apparently brought by chance rather than through one's own actions.” In the Professional Athlete Index, it states that “only one out of 51,346 golfers become a professional in the United States.” That’s a shocking 0.001946%! To become good at something is a function of five things: time, opportunity, wealth, energy, and, of course, discipline. If you aren’t lucky enough to have every single one of these, then you can’t get good at something let alone become the best. Luck is not about being able to hit the target but about being in a place to via to hit the target. Thus, luck plays a huge role in becoming successful not only as a martial artist but in all walks of life. To be lucky enough to have time implies that we can allocate our time to getting good but also that we don’t have any other responsibilities that are burdening our schedule. Sun Tzu wrote that “Opportunities multiply as they are seized.” If, to name just a few, we are lucky enough to have a place to train, someone to teach us, and people to train with, then these opportunities add up enabling us to get good. If we can afford to take a martial art, then we are lucky enough to be among the top eight percent of the world’s wealthiest population who can afford it. Martial arts training requires having a body which is capable of strenuous movement. Thus, if we have the energy or youth to train, then we are luckier than the nearly 150,000 people who won’t wake up tomorrow. Most importantly, success is directly related to having the discipline to finish what we have started. Martial artists are lucky enough to be people who have either learned or were born with a sense of discipline which enables them to see things through to their end despite setbacks, obstacles, or lack of talent. Most of those 51,346 golfers, if not all, were lucky enough to have had the time, opportunity, wealth, energy, and discipline to devote to their craft, but still didn’t make it - they weren’t lucky enough. The kanji for saiwai (幸) also means “happiness.” One could posit that happiness is not the obtaining of one’s goal but in its pursuit. I wonder how many of those golfers who didn’t make it would still consider themselves “lucky.” Lucky enough to have had the chance to pursue their dreams. Furuya Sensei used to say that “training is a privilege.” It is a privilege because not everyone finds themselves lucky enough to have the time, opportunity, wealth, energy, or discipline to follow their desired path. Rabbi Hyman Schachtel said, "happiness is not having what you want, but wanting what you have.” If that is true, then happiness is being able to appreciate how lucky each and every one of us is to be doing what we are doing despite the outcome. Happiness calls us to be grateful and we show our gratefulness by not squandering the privilege that we are being given. The best aren’t the best because they are the best. They are the best because they make the most out of the luck that they have. If you find yourself lucky enough to train, then you are one of the lucky ones - don’t squander it.

Today’s goal: Furuya Sensei said, “When the opportunity presents itself, throw yourself into your training.”

Watch this video to better understand luck