Do it Anyways

The best Aikidoists do it anyways. To “do it anyways” means that we will “take action, or pursue a goal even in the face of obstacles, doubts, or uncertainties. It's about embracing the courage to move forward despite the potential difficulties or fears.” Every person has fears and an Aikidoist is no different. The difference is that an Aikidoist does it anyways despite being afraid or facing seemingly overwhelming odds. “Do it anyways” is about courage and so it is one of those things we can’t be taught, but we can learn. In other words, we have to teach it to ourselves. In Aikido, we are not supposed to just stand there and wait to be hit or grabbed. At the tachiai (立ち合い) or “the initial moment of contact,” we are supposed to be in motion. Thus, we neutralize our opponent’s attack with movement. By moving before or as we are attacked, we are unknowingly teaching ourselves to “do it anyways.” An Aikidoist is supposed to be able to size up their opponent, assess the situation and act, all in a split second. If an Aikidoist stops to think or allows themselves to succumb to the fear, they will fall into the trap of their opponent’s attack. On a certain level, any movement is better than not moving at all but with time and training, we learn to move in the right direction and appropriately. Over time, moving despite the fear or odds becomes an integral part of our Aikido. When we can, we have taught ourselves the concept of “do it anyways.” “Do it anyways” is a habit and like all habits, it begins consciously but over time and the more we do it, it becomes subconscious or second nature. When it becomes habitual in the dojo, it becomes habitual in life. In life and in Aikido, we will always be confronted with fear, adversities, and obstacles. The great thing about Aikido training is that it gives us the tools to face our fears, overcome our adversities and have the courage to keep going no matter what. “Do it anyways!” is really just a battle cry or mantra that we use to spurn ourselves forward and in doing so it eventually leads us to acts of courage. The best Aikidoists know all the risks and have all the fears, but they move forward anyways and that is why the best Aikidoists do it anyways.

Today’s goal: When you are afraid or don’t want to, just say to yourself, “Do it anyways.”

Watch this video to better understand "Do it anyways."

Believe in Yourself

“All man are the same except for their belief in their own selves,
regardless of what others may think of them.” - Miyamoto Musashi

The best Aikidoists believe in themselves. One of the hardest things to do in this life is to shinjiru (信じる) or “believe” in ourselves. The character for “belief” or shin (信) is made up of the characters for nin (人) or “person” and gen (言) or “say.” Thus, one could posit that belief is what we say to ourselves. A disease that pretty much every person suffers from is “not good enough” disease. A person who suffers from “not good enough” disease “experiences feelings of inferiority, inadequacy, worthlessness, or just not feeling like they are ‘enough.’” The Buddha said, “Mind precedes all mental states. Mind is their chief; they are all mind-wrought.” In the deepest darkest recesses of our minds, we are quietly talking to ourselves. In Japanese this is called kokoroniomou (心に思う) or “to secretly believe.” These thoughts or dialogues shape what we think and thus develop us into who we are - it creates our reality. The problem with many of these thoughts or things that we are saying to ourselves is that sometimes those thinkings are only slightly true. Most of the time, we need to see with our own eyes that we aren’t as bad as we think. One of things that Aikido training excels at is that it helps us get out of our heads. In our mental reality, we are influenced by our thoughts which may or may not be true and thus we begin to see things askew. On the mat, the physical reality is rooted in what we can actually do or not do and we get to “see” exactly who we are and how we are doing. How we think is largely habitual and that is why the Buddha said “mind-wrought” which conjures up this idea of the mind being beaten and forged like a sword. Understanding this, our mental states are shaped by not only what we say to ourselves but also what we think. In Aikido, we cannot be successful if we do not believe in ourselves. Thus, most of us need to “see” it for ourselves and thus the training of Aikido helps us to understand our true reality. Knowing what we can do versus what we can’t do gives us a sense of confidence and thus we begin to believe in ourselves because we know what we are capable of. On a certain level, this is where the outside begins to influence the inside because the way to combat the things, stories, or thoughts in our heads which may or may not be true is with the physical reality on the mat. Each of us is immensely powerful but that power can be used against us if we don’t know who we are. Aikido training, if nothing else, is the study of the self. The more we see our true reality, the more our minds start to change and thus we begin to believe in ourselves. Believing in ourselves benefits every aspect of our lives and this is where we start to see the benefits of Aikido training. We are only as powerful as what we think and that is why the best Aikidoist believe in themselves.

Today’s goal: Believe in yourself. You are only as good or bad as you think.

Watch Queen's Sir Brian May discuss the reality of the Imposter Syndrome

Go With The Flow

“Aikido is not simply over-powering your opponent or competition of physical strength, one must begin
to appreciate Aikido in terms of blending, the flow and out-pouring of energy, balance and timing
and bring them all together in an integrated and effective way.” - Rev. Kensho Furuya

The best Aikidoists go with the flow. One way to say “flow” in Japanese is ryuudou (流動). Ryuu means “flow” and dou means “movement.” Flow in terms of Aikido, means that no matter what happens, we go with it instead of against it. Modern psychology dictates that there are three responses to a perceived harmful event, attack, or threat to our survival: fight, flight, or freeze. However, there is a fourth option - Aikido. To do Aikido means that we do not fight with our aggressor, we do not run from an attack, and we don’t freeze. In Aikido, we go with the flow. Typically, when we try to explain Aikido to people, we say, “Aikidoists use other people’s force against them.” This is not quite entirely true. Aikido is more sophisticated than that. When confronted, the first thing we do is meet the stressor with calmness and composure. This enables us to move appropriately but it also gives us the wherewithal to not lose our cool and hurt someone out of fear or anger. Then, we neutralize our opponent’s attack with movement and align with their force. Next, we change the orientation of their power, momentum, or body weight and redirect that energy back into their bodies. We use that energy to either throw them down, pin them, or employ a joint lock. In Aikido, our response to our aggressor has to always be in accordance with the natural movements of the body so as to cause the minimalist amount of pain, suffering, or injury. All of these steps can be summed up in one word - flow. The definition of flow is “the melting together of action and consciousness; the state of finding a balance between a skill and how challenging that task is.” One way we learn how to go with the flow is when we learn how to roll. First, we learn the mechanics of rolling. Then, we apply our roll and use it when we are being thrown. Most times, in the early stages of our training, our roll will be clunky and square rather than round and smooth. Later on, as our roll becomes round, we strive to be thrown and roll without any hesitancy in both mind and body. Eventually, we learn how to roll spontaneously in accordance with how we are being thrown and it is not only a nonevent but a seemingly joyful experience as well. In life and in Aikido, things will invariably come and attack us, and bad things will invariably happen. None of us are immune. The difference between an Aikidoist and other people is that we choose to flow instead of fight, runaway or freeze. The best Aikidoist always goes with the flow in mind, body, and spirit.

Today’s goal: Don’t resist - go with the flow. Do Aikido.

Watch this video of Barry Sanders going with the flow.

Step-by-Step

"In the practice of martial arts, follow the principles; in life, follow the path." - Morihei Ueshiba

The best Aikidoists are methodical. Aikido is a very precise martial art. It is kind of like a language of movement. Once our bodies learn the language, then it is like a conversation where the movements of the nage (thrower) and uke (throwee) just flow together. In Japanese, this would be called wachuukyoudou (和衷協同 ) or “a harmonious cooperation.” In Aikido, there is no fighting, struggle, or forcing it - it is just two people moving together. To accomplish this harmony, everything in Aikido needs to be done jun wo otte (順を追って) or “done in order step-by-step.” Everything is done methodically - we don’t just do things to do things. Every step has a reason and fulfills a need. Furuya Sensei said, “Every technique holds a secret.” Thus, it is the student’s job to discover the secret, and this can only be done by not only putting reps on the techniques but also by meticulously following each step. Beginners tend to skip steps. They do this mainly because they think that this is how they acquire speed. The main difference between a beginner and an expert in Aikido is that the expert doesn’t skip any of the steps - they just do them faster. Beginners need to be patient but also methodical. Each step needs its full attention. As we master the steps, speed and power will naturally come. Architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe once said, “God is in the details.” Someone explained this quote: “It means that when attention is paid to the small things it can have the biggest rewards and that the details matter.” Today, in our fast paced technologically advanced society, it is easy to grasp on to ideas that seem great at the time. We don’t just do things to do things. As martial artists we are always carefully preparing ourselves for the outcomes that we desire. This careful preparation enables us to meet all adversities and adversaries with a sense of calmness and composure. Perhaps that is why the famous Chinese proverb says, “A careful foot can step anywhere.” Technique and skill alone do not lead to victory. It is the strategy, method, and having a systematic approach which lead to victory. In Aikido and in life, we have to follow all the steps and be meticulous in everything that we do.

Today’s goal: Be patient, take your time and follow all steps.

Watch this video of Kyle Carpenter talking about how The Smallest of Steps Completes The Grandest of Journeys

Be Ready

“Prepare for nothing, be ready for everything.” - John Grinder

The best Aikidoists are ready for anything. They have to be ready for anything because they know that they are in control of nothing. Control is just an illusion. We cannot foresee the future, nor can we control other people. So, if we don’t know what is going to happen or what other people will do, we have to be ready for anything. In Japanese, the idiom which means “to be combat ready at all times” is jouzaisenjou (常在戦場). In Aikido, the person who “receives the technique” is called the uke (受け) and roughly 50% of the class, we are taking ukemi or are on the “receiving end of the technique.” When we are taking ukemi we are trying to get to a level where we can receive the technique and move with the person doing the technique and move with spontaneity and appropriateness. In the beginning our ukemi is contrived, stiff, and forced and sometimes we don’t even take the right ukemi for the technique even though we knew the technique that was being executed. Later, as we become more experienced, we can take the proper ukemi smoothly and seamlessly without knowing what the technique was prior to it being done to us. This is something that people who don’t practice Aikido don’t understand. To be thrown and fall smoothly and seamlessly without hesitation and without getting hurt takes a high degree of skill. When our ukemi is good, we can be thrown harder and take more difficult throws. Thus, taking ukemi becomes a metaphor for life: no matter what life throws at us, we have to be ready to receive its chaos with composure and spontaneity. The road of life will always be fraught with unpredictability. One of the great unpleasant truths is that our struggles will always be equal to our level of ability - we only receive what we can handle. Understanding this, instead of trying to control it, we just try to be ready as can be. Miyamoto Musashi said, “The true science of martial arts means practicing them in such a way that they will be useful at any time, and to teach them in such a way that they will be useful in all things.” The trained Aikidoist is ready to meet all of life’s challenges with calmness, composure, and spontaneity.

Today’s goal: When things get tough, hang in there - just take ukemi.

Watch this video of Alan Watts talking about spontaneity

Be Lethal

The best martial artists have a lethal mind. A lethal mind is not a mind that is focused on killing. To focus on killing means that a person has “lost their mind” and in Japanese this crazed mindset is called sakki (殺氣) or “bloodlust.” Sakki literally translates as “killing energy.” Lethal or chishi (致死) can mean “deadly” but it also means “capable of causing death.” From a martial arts standpoint, a lethal mind can be associated with killing or harming others, but it really means having a mind which is so serious that it can be “capable of causing death.” Interestingly, in the 16th century lethal meant “causing spiritual death.” But who’s spiritual death are we talking about? If we have learned anything from modern PTSD, the spiritual death that we are causing when we take another’s life is our own. Taking a life is a mortal sin and that is why engaging in a martial art which teaches that skill is supposed to be taken seriously. Shotokan Karate 10th Dan, Mikio Yahara Sensei said, “We are here to practice Budo Karate. But what does Budo Karate mean? It means defeating an opponent with a single strike. If the technique is not strong enough, it is not considered Budo.” In Karate, "to annihilate with a single strike" is referred to as ikken hissatsu (一拳必殺). The only way we can develop a strike strong enough to kill in one blow is to train for it. Miyamoto Musashi said, "It takes 1,000 days to forge the spirit and 10,000 to polish it.” Thus, the strike, cut, or technique takes 1,000 days to learn and 10,000 days to perfect. However, along the way to developing this lethality, we realize that the technique that we are developing isn’t to destroy another person but rather to give them mercy. In the first 1,000 days our technique easily becomes deadly, but it takes another 10,000 days to make it merciful. In the past, it was thought to be inhumane to hack or beat someone to death. It was thought to be merciful to kill one’s opponent with just one cut or strike. The reason for this efficiency is because the samurai viewed their opponents very differently than a person does today. In the past, they thought that the person who faced them was the same as them. They both devoted themselves to their craft as a warrior but, at the same time, they both had the unlucky karma to face each other on the battlefield fighting a war because it was their duty. So, if this person is the same as you and you would want mercy and compassion in your last moment, then you should end this person’s life as quickly and as mercifully as possible. Thus, a samurai trains so that they can be lethal but at the same time merciful. Today, most of us don’t fight in battles or engage in duels but the lethalness still has to be there. Lethalness is a mindset that is so serious that it is capable of causing death, but that lethalness has to be balanced out with mercy and compassion. In everything we do, in the dojo and in life, we have to seek a balance between being lethal and being merciful.      

Today’s goal: Go forward and be lethal but also be merciful.

Click the picture below to watch Yahara Sensei discussing Budo Karate

Be Bold

“Fortune favors the bold.” - Virgil, Roman poet     

The best martial artists are bold but not reckless. Most times, when we think about the difference between being bold or reckless, we only think about the outcome. If someone is successful, then we consider them bold but if they fail, then we think that they were being reckless. To a martial artist, boldness and recklessness are really about one’s level of training and development. A popular Japanese idiom is tandaishinshou (胆大心小) which means “to be bold and courageous, but also careful and meticulous.” This idiom is similar to the legendary basketball coach, John Wooden’s assertion that one should “Be quick but don’t hurry.” Essentially, there is a difference between quickness and hurry just as there is a difference between reckless and bold. Boldness and recklessness both have conviction and passion, but boldness has a sense of structure, planning, and decisiveness. From a martial arts standpoint, the bold martial artist has to be more developed so that they are able to be more decisive and strike just at the right moment. A reckless martial artist needs no training and typically attacks haphazardly out of passion and impetuousness. Roman philosopher Seneca said, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” Understanding this, luck is having the ability to do the right thing at the right time. Therefore, there is a higher likelihood of success when we are bold because to be bold a martial artist has built themselves up so that they are able to act appropriately when the time is right. Bold also doesn’t mean to not feel fear, but rather to move in despite being afraid. Thus, there is a sense of composure to a bold martial artist. In the dojo, one way we are unknowingly teaching ourselves boldness is when we practice irimi (入り身) movements. Irimi means to “move forward.” Every time we move forward either into the attack to parry or redirect or when we initiate an attack, we are teaching ourselves how to act boldly. In the beginning, our timing will be off, or we won’t be skillful enough and so we will have to force the technique and so we will appear reckless and most times won’t be successful. Later, with time and training, we become more skillful, and our sense of timing becomes more developed. This preparation enables us to be bold enough to do the right thing at the right time and thus, we are more likely to be successful. Eventually, the boldness we learned in the dojo begins to have an influence on our daily lives and we see this boldness come out in everything we do. In the martial arts and in life, train yourself to be bold enough to meet and overcome any adversity with skill, poise, and meticulousness. A martial artist is bold but is never reckless.

Today’s goal: Go forward and be bold but don’t be reckless.

Watch this video to better understand boldness.

Set no Limits

“Without mountains, we might find ourselves relieved that we can avoid the pain of the ascent, but we will forever miss the thrill of the summit. And in such a terribly scandalous trade-off,
it is the absence of pain that becomes the thief of life.” – Craig D. Lounsbrough

The best martial artist sets no limits. What are you capable of? The normal person has all of these hadome (歯止め) or “self-imposed limits.” A person who studies a martial art is not normal and so they are searching for the outermost limits of what they can do. Thus, to study a martial art is really to study the self and that’s why a martial art is a do (道) or “a way of life.” Martial arts are supposed to be a journey and not a destination but all paths lead somewhere. That somewhere that our journey is leading to is our true selves. Our true self is who we were before we were told that we could not be who we are or achieve what we wanted to achieve. When we study a martial art, we find things that we want to achieve or skills that we want to acquire. The normal person sees something difficult or complicated and thinks, “I can’t do that.” A martial artist sees the same things but thinks, “I can’t do that, yet.” Through time and experience, training teaches us that surmounting obstacles is how we uncover our true selves. Along the way, we find out not only what we are made of, but we also realize that we have infinitely more power than we ever imagined. That is why Morihei Ueshiba believed in masakatsu agatsu (正勝吾勝) or that “the true victory is self victory.” In the martial arts and in life, we are really only held back by two things: fear and the beliefs that what we were conditioned to believe are true. When we challenge those self-limiting beliefs, we realize that most, if not all, were not true at all. How do we challenge them? We challenge them by not giving up when things get hard or seem impossible. It is only by challenging our limits that we see who we really are, what we are made of, and what we can do. Thus, the road to figuring out who we are and what we can do is really just a mind game. Former Navy SEAL, David Goggins came up with the 40% Rule which states, “When our mind is telling us to quit, our body has actually only used up 40% of its potential.” What Goggins is saying is that we quit because we talked ourselves into believing that this is was the end and that we can go no farther. Goggins assertion aligns with the Japanese saying: Sanchunozoku wo yaburu hayasukushinchunozoku wo yaburuhakatashi (山中の賊を破るは易く心中の賊を破るは難し) or "Defeating the bandits in the mountains is easy; defeating the bandit in one's mind is harder.” Novelist James Lane Allen said, “Adversity does not build character—it reveals it. How far can you go? Only as far as you push yourself. Where should you go? Only to the places that scare you. The best martial artists set no limits because they have realized that there are no real limits.

Today’s goal: Wherever you don’t want to go is where you probably should go.

Watch this video to better understand self-limiting beliefs

Uncertainty

"In the face of uncertainty, a martial artist finds strength through adaptability and resilience."
- Gichin Funakoshi

A few days ago, it was the 4th memorial of Michael Stinson’s passing. Michael was a student at our dojo who built our website and newsletter. Lying in bed sick, I had nothing but time to reflect upon his passing. No one actively wants tragedy, disappointments, or difficulties, but they are a part of life. Then I thought that we, as martial arts, have to become comfortable with uncertainty. Thinking about Michael’s passing, I remembered a quote that Furuya Sensei would often say from his Zen master Bishop Kenko Yamashita: “Nandemo omoidori ni ikanai” which means “Nothing goes the way you want it to.” I never fully understood this quote until now because when we begin our martial arts training, it seems like one of the main things that we are striving for is kakujitsu (確実) or “certainty.” After all, every martial art is centered around kata (型) or “a set of predetermined moves.” Practicing these predetermined moves gives us confidence and teaches us how to use our bodies in the most efficient way to address a predetermined attack which kind of sounds like the definition of certainty. One of the kanji characters in the word certainty (実) shows up in swordsmanship where they talk about one’s mindset being reflected in one’s stance or  kyo-jitsu (虚 実). Kyo is an unprepared state of mind and jitsu is a prepared mind. One way of judging if a person has kyo or jitsu is if their stance has a sense of confidence. As beginners, we gain that confidence through our development of certainty. At this stage, we practice the movements so that they can become second nature and we can do them almost mindlessly. Later on in our training, after we have mastered the basic movements, we are supposed to transcend the form or the certainty of the predetermined movements. This is where the Bishop’s assertion comes into play. If we spend too much time forging certainty, then it can create this rigidness in our minds and movements. That is why we have to move past it. If we can move past that certainty or rigidness, then our minds and bodies will have a sense of fluidity and we will be able to calmly and deftly address any attack that is thrown at us. In Aikido, this is called ki no nagare or “the flow of ki.” In a sense, it is embracing the certainty of uncertainty which separates the beginner from the expert. Later on, we take this fluid mindset which can mindfully address any problem and apply it to our daily lives. One thing that Michael’s passing teaches us is that we don’t know for certain how long we will be on this Earth nor do we know how long a person will be in our lives. Understanding this uncertainty, we must strive to be mindful and not waste the time that we have with each other. That is why they say, “every moment and every person is precious.” In the martial arts and in life, nothing happens as we like and that’s why the best martial artists are preparedly unprepared to accept the certainty of the uncertainty of life.

Today’s goal: Don’t be so certain that there will be a tomorrow.

Watch this video to better understand uncertainty.

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.