Of Gods and Monsters.

If you haven't listened to the Samurai Archives podcast yet, do it!  I have been listening off and on for the past few years about the culture, warfare and literature of historical Japan while driving to and from work. I would like to continue the theme of getting into the mindset of the historical Japanese warrior by exploring one of the podcast episodes that talk about just that.

I wrote about some of the ideas the Japanese person may have had during the Edo period of Japan (the time period from which Shindo Yoshin Ryu was founded). I have spoken about Shinto and the concept of wabi-sabi in earlier posts. What the Samurai Archives podcast leads into is this idea that people from the past were not simply ignorant versions of ourselves but had a completely different reality to our own. Things like ghosts, spirits, magic and gods that are termed superstition today, were part of a person's reality in medieval Japan. Think about that for a moment. For the average medieval Japanese person, magic was real, the kami were real, evil spirits existed.  As the hosts of the podcast put it, the Japanese before the 1800's were living in one of our medieval fantasy novels. 

In Jack's world, Aku is very real.

Now extrapolate out that idea to the Japanese warrior. David A. Hall writes about the influence of Buddhism on combat and warriors of the time. One goddess of the Buddhist pantheon in particular, Marishiten, has been an important figure for groups such as military personnel, police officers, the classical warrior traditions (bingo!) and sumo wrestlers. Apparently, Marishiten's popularity among Japanese warriors was mainly due to the combative powers she could place upon her devotees. Such things as invisibility, clarity of mind, intuition and so on. By the thirteenth century, esoteric practices such as the kuji (hand gestures combined with mantras) had become very popular. Again we must remember the psycological implications of a warrior believing these chants and gestures would actually give him power over his enemies. Looking at this from a modern worldview we may scoff. However, we all know the placebo effect is a real phenomenon so it doesn't take much convincing for me to see how the classical Japanese warrior's belief in such a practice could lead to him performing at an enhanced level, even it it wasn't really based on supernatural entities.  Remember, the people of this time had no access to any other way of thinking. This was their reality.

Returning to David Hall's writings we can look at the power of invisibility. Immediately we can say, wait a moment, they couldn't actually turn invisible! Hall proposes that in the case of the Japanese warrior the power of invisibility granted by Marishiten was not so much physical concealment but more a psychological ability. It could mean anything from hiding one's intentions strategically to the psychological blinding of an opponent during hand-to-hand combat. He uses modern war time examples of where soldiers firing their weapons at charging troops would miss due to the charging men having a psychological advantage. They were for all intents and purposes, 'not there', so couldn't be hit. 

Another wondrous power of Marishiten is intuition, the ability to react accordingly, without thought. You can imagine that after years of training and experience, with thousands of hours dedicated to a chosen field, that the way a warrior thought and reasoned would change. This new way of thinking can call upon experience and/or the appropriate movement rapidly at a moment's notice without effort. Otherwise known as a flash of intuition. So what the classical warrior might attribute to Marishiten's power was simply an accumulation of years of experience in a narrow focus of study. In fact in classical martial traditions the okugi (inner mysteries) may be told to those after they have done their share of training. However, these secrets would not have been useful to the uninitiated anyway,  without years of practice and training to put them into context, they wouldn't make any sense.

The idea that the classical Japanese warrior had a different reality to ours can also be demonstrated with their use of esoteric practices to decide strategy and tactics on a larger scale. Deciding when to fight battles or go to war was often considered by first seeking the advice of a priest or other holy person. This wasn't considered an afterthought either. A warlord could decide the fate of his domain on these practices and he truly believed that there were forces at work that were beyond the mundane. These forces could strongly influence the outcomes of battles. 

So, where does that leave a modern day practitioner of koryu bujutsu? First of all I have no intention of shrugging off my twenty-first century worldview and living in the reality of a medieval Japanese warrior. I could no sooner do that, than a warrior of the past understand what a mobile phone is. What I can do is look at what those practices and beliefs developed in the warrior. Things such as intuition, a mindset that controlled or dominated an opponent, a feeling of invincibility. This is the key to breaking into that mindset and this is why I get annoyed when people say that what I might practice is archaic and pointless. There are lessons to be learned if we trust the process. One thing that hasn't changed for hundreds of years is the mentality of the human mind going to war. There is a certain psychology that will set you up for dealing with combat much better than others. There is a formula that has been put together by many practitioners and passed through many generations waiting to be discovered. Provided we are patient, we can tap into this. 

Train safe.

Wabi-sabi.

Part of being a deshi in a classical Japanese martial arts school is trying to understand the Eastern mindset that our predecessors held. This is complex and I have touched on a few of these ideas in the past, Shinto being one of the most important for TSYR. 

Recently I was listening to a podcast which was discussing the tea ceremony of Japan and as part of this talk, the term wabi-sabi came up. This is not the first time I have heard this term but I was encouraged to dig further and think about what this might mean for me as a TSYR deshi. Before I go any further please let me explain that my grasp of Japanese is limited to 'dojo Japanese' with a few other phrases I have picked up along the way. So my opinion is based purely off what I have read or heard over the years. 

The Japanese language has many words that do not have a direct equivalent in English. I believe wabi-sabi is one of them. Put in very basic terms it describes the concept of beauty found in imperfection. Wikipedia goes further to say "Wabi-sabi nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect." An object that is aged or worn can have wabi-sabi, so can a carefully repaired cracked bowl or a rustic handmade object. Scratches and marks on an object give it a story and makes it unique to any other. But does this mean everything that is old and worn has wai-sabi? Apparently, its not that simple. 

To understand this further we can look at the Western worldview of beauty. In contrast, we find beauty in symmetry, perfection and newness (or youth). This is the cultural value of beauty I was raised in. From what I can tell, it was as far back as the ancient Greeks that held this idea of beauty dear. Its not hard to believe when you look at such things as the Ancient Olympics, where the athletes performed naked, showing off their amazing physiques (oiled if wrestling!). The idea of perfection in mathematics, universal laws (physics anyone?) and being obsessed with the eternal all contributed to our Western concept of beauty. So jump forward to 2020 and we see the obsession with youthfulness and the eternal in such things as fake-looking, flawless, Hollywood stars, plastic surgery, fitness fads and the need for having the latest new phone. 

The roots of wabi-sabi comes from Buddhism which suggests wisdom is gained by coming to terms with imperfection, impermanence and emptiness. Through Japan's history wabi-sabi became more refined and permanently entrenched in the culture partly due to the tea ceremony. 

In the 1500s, a tea master known as Sen no Rikyu redefined the etiquette for the tea ceremony, with emphasis on humility. He favoured efficient movement with no fuss, plain and simple utensils and respect for the guest. In doing this he imbued the tea ceremony with wabi-sabi.  There is a story about Rikyu that shows how he viewed wabi-sabi.  One version (there are many) tells how one of Rikyu's sons built a beautiful tea garden strictly to the teachings of his father and then invited his father to view his new project. The father took one look and frowned. The son was shocked, he had done everything according to his father's rules. Rikyu walked over to a cherry tree and shook the branches. The blossoms drifted lazily to the ground. The falling of the flowers brought imperfection to the otherwise new tea house and garden. This was wabi-sabi. Today, all schools of the tea ceremony still follow the rules Rikyu put in place so long ago.

The concept of wabi-sabi can also be found in the aesthetics of flower arranging, Japanese pottery and zen gardens. 

So what does this mean to a Westerner practising an Eastern martial tradition? Well, it gives me a change in perspective, a different worldview and an insight into the thought processes of men who lived a long time ago in a different society. It helps me understand how these people would have thought about their world and how it affected their martial training. When I go for a walk in the NZ bush or along a beach on the wild West Coast of my country I can appreciate wabi-sabi. The flow of impermanence and imperfection is all around me and at the same time I see beauty in it all. It lifts my spirit. The simple act of waves rolling in and out as the tide comes in, removing any trace of footsteps. The changing of the trees with the seasons. Watching my children grow and change, as I grow older and change. There is an acceptance that comes over me. My life is fleeting. That one thought can make me sad and happy in the same instant. I will not live forever but how lucky am I to be here now experiencing the world, seeing my children grow and my wife laugh. These same thoughts the Japanese warrior must of had. For he is also human. 

As a deshi of TSYR I am aware of my impermanence while the ryu can flow though me and carry on beyond my life time. Back through history one fleeting life after another has persevered with this art, contributed to it and let it flow onto the next generation of deshi. It is an amazing feeling to know that generations of people have practised what I am practising even though it was at different times over hundreds of years. I can appreciate the simple beauty found in humble moss climbing over a rock in a zen garden, just as my predecessors did, or marvel at the patterns found on the bark of a gnarled tree in the New Zealand bush. Even though I am hundreds of miles from Japan itself, the birthplace of TSYR's founder. It is trying to understand wabi-sabi that connects me to the people who practised the ryu before me. That let's me carry on the flow of information from one generation to the next and reminds me that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Train safe, everyone.