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These are the edited letters that I sent to a great woman, who was undergoing a painful divorce. After her husband made an attempt to harass her in public, I wrote to her, and asked her permission to send her an essay a week until I had exhausted the topics covered. She gave me her permission, and I began a close, intense examination of the martial arts mindset. She found the essays so helpful that she would study them before each encounter with her husband. They assisted her in seeing beyond his "mask" of self assurance and strength to the uncertain, frightened person inside.
Behind the savage mask of every bully,there is frightened, intimidated person who is desperately trying to maintain control of a situation because he/she is terrified of being only a mortal human being. The wise warrior strips that mask away from an attacker, for it is the only real weapon of a bully. Successful fighting is primarily psychological and moral. I hope that other people will find these essays helpful.
#1 Men and women fight differently; Men must see destruction
#2 Your own inner courage
#3 The primary weapon; the great swordsman
#4 Defeating expectations & upsetting rhythm; the "stopping mind"; waiting
#5 Envy was his motive; how to fight back effectively.
#6 Goodness; fighting envy; the better you; the opponent's patience
#7 Kamae; detachment
#8 The samurai & death; the training hall experience
#9 Defeat is an Illusion (Part 1 of 2)
#10 Defeat is an Illusion (Part 2 of 2)
#11 Victory is an Illusion; breathing; end of the first ring
#12 Combat methods; tatemae and honne; ken and kan
#13 Be fluid; the mind rules the body; depth of spirit
#14 From Aikido: Blending
#15 "No Design, No Thought" ('Munen Muso')
#16 The inner sword; accepting; emptiness
#17 Sticking; trapping
#18 Kyudo; releasing the arrow
#19 Injure the corners; mountain-sea change: breaking noses
#20 Tread down the enemy; know collapse; fight to the end
#21 Become the enemy; letting go the hilt; the way is to win
#22 Transfer a spirit; Upset the balance; cause hardship
#23 False premises 1: long sword, short sword, brute strength, intricate techniques
#24 False premises 2: stances, gaze at the heart, speed, secret teachings
#25 The Book of Ku; three examples
#26 "Bushi no Nasaki"
#27 The Fighter's Short List
#28 The two questions for bushido training
#1 Men and women fight differently; Men must see destruction
Dear Madam,
I have earned my third degree black belt in tae kwon do, and I am a woman. Because I have studied martial arts for 20 years now, I have worked with many women who have encountered physical conflicts, attempts at being manipulated, humiliated, and frightened.
The first thing I want to tell you is that men and women fight differently. An aggressive man likes to "create havoc" and see it. Seeing the pain or humiliation he causes encourages him to continue causing pain and humiliation and even gives him a sense of justification and empowerment. An aggressive or exploitive woman, on the other hand, seeks to "know" rather than see. This is why women murderers have tended to be poisoners while male murders attack with a weapon in hand. The men have to see the victim die to be satisfied in the dreadful act of murder, and the women tend to find satisfaction simply in knowing.
Because a male aggressor likes to "create havoc" and see it, a woman defender's best psychological strategy in fighting or resisting him is to show the effects of the havoc as little as possible. To show contempt or pity for him is more effective than to show anger. The more impervious the woman is to the worst things that he does, the less satisfaction he finds.
The second thing I would like to point out is that a woman must be wary of an aggressive man who has nothing left to lose. This is true in any type of conflict, not just physical fighting. A man who has destroyed everything that he has and made a colossal fool of himself will justify himself by blaming or humiliating others. His gut level reasoning is that if he can make the person he has wronged behave badly: (that is, scream at him, or cry uncontrollably, or fall apart in some other way), then he can tell himself (and others) that she somehow deserved the wrong that he did to her.
He will seek to humiliate you, and may openly reveal private things or do other cruel acts. His goal is to bring you down and make you behave badly, and he will probably seek to have that done in public. Men who are good at exploiting a woman's sense of guilt, her need for privacy, her self esteem, can do some very humiliating things. Again, the woman's best defense is calmness, even openness. She must not react on the first very strong impulse of emotion that he creates in her, but she must remain calm, remember her goals, and not provide him with the "havoc" that he wants to see.
There is a lot more to the psychology of war, but this is probably more than you were ever interested in reading. And yet, few women can maintain poise and a calm mind before a truly aggressive male. But I think you can. You are a person of tremendous inner strength. I hope that you don't mind if I send you one more e-mail on handling some of the "illusions" that an aggressor can create in a person's mind. Understanding the mental game against illusions and false "either-or" situations has been of great benefit to me. I plan to write it up and send it to you within a few days.
Thank you for your patience with me.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
#2 Your own inner courage
Dear Madam,
As I mentioned previously, men and women attack and defend based on different premises. A man's sense of self is highly compartmentalized: his amount of control; his power; his achievement; the satisfaction of his physical needs. A woman's sense of self comes from a more complex system of her interaction with her world: her loved ones, her achievements, her various roles (from house cleaner to business executive), her handiwork, everything that she does and cares about.
First, because a woman finds importance in her interaction with others, she has a more sensitive sense of guilt than a man. A smart aggressor will exploit this.
Her more complex interactions between her sense of self and her environment mean that she has a heightened need for privacy at times and "personal quiet" in which she can reorganize her thoughts and resolve inner conflicts and concerns. She's always making adjustments between her sense of self and her shifting world, balancing things out.
Her self esteem, which is interwoven throughout her more complex personal universe, has more surface area that is vulnerable to attack. In other words, because a woman's world actually becomes a part of her sense of self, she always has a lot more at risk. In a lot of ways, this makes women tremendously brave. Throughout history, women have sacrificed themselves for their beliefs and for the people they have loved.
But a woman's more complex sense of self can be turned against her. No matter how brave or strong she is, a woman is subject to attack through the gates of her many interactions to her world. She is more susceptible to guilt; she will suffer cruelly if her children are threatened. She can be harried and run to earth, emotionally exhausted by her tormentor and unable to find rest and privacy; and she can be made to believe that she has been cut off from the universe she has created for herself (her "nest").
One illusion that the aggressor creates is that the woman is isolated or has "lost the nest", or that the nest is destroyed. He makes her feel deserted and alone. Usually, he'll rely on humiliating her to do this, perhaps blaming her; although some men also use threats to create a sense of danger in her. He may even do really wretched things like destroying or stealing her personal effects (a statement that her past has been destroyed). Seeing through this illusion is vital: You are not isolated. The "nest" is still there, and any current damage it has suffered can be repaired.
A second tactic of emotional aggression is a false "either-or" choice forced onto a woman. The claim is, "If you don't do this my way, then such-and-such will happen (disaster)." It's really just another way of threatening her or making her feel isolated and helpless. Her best defense is never to choose either alternative. She can always default to "wait" and then examine the situation objectively and privately.
All human beings house two burning coals in their hearts: Fear and Guilt. They are useful when they burn slowly. They make us cautious about not hurting ourselves and not hurting others. But if they are fanned into flames within our hearts, they will burn us alive from the inside. The proper use of fear is to avoid danger; not to avoid courage. And the proper use of guilt is to seek forgiveness, not to justify ourselves.
Exploiters who fan these two coals to flame somehow cause normally responsible and brave women to get trapped in an endless cycle of misery, self justification, self reproach, and matters that are never resolved.
To sum it up, a woman is a creature of internal processes and internal powers. To fight well, to react well, and to endure, she must focus on her inner being: resolving issues on all fronts, focusing on her goals, maintaining her ideals and values, finding times of privacy and rest. She must also focus on her many connections to her world and keep building and strengthening those connections. She must continue to give altruistically to those that she loves. This also strengthens her. She is endangered by being engulfed by her tormentor, by having that person cut her off from her own inner world and all its many connections to her outer world. If the struggle against him becomes everything in her life, then in a way he is still winning, for she is just as robbed of the richness of her life as if he burned everything down.
And finally, let me speak as a self defense teacher. You are dealing with a person who has destroyed and lost everything. I'm not trying to predict violence or make you afraid. But changing locks and investing in a good home security system are a small price to pay for peace and safety. And if you should decide to follow that strategy, it's best to do it quietly, in an offhand way.
Thank you again for your patience with these e-mails. I've hit all the major points. You have always demonstrated great strength and dignity and intelligence. I believe that you can rely on your inner strength in this difficult time. And you can continue to cultivate it. You have a very rich and imaginative "inner self" from which to give: first, to those that you love, and second, to those who so respect your dramatic skills.
The wrong done to you is staggering, and it was downright cruel. But remember, there are actions that destroy the person who does them. This is one reason that I write: to urge you to preserve yourself, and not let him drag you down with him.
I hope that these e-mails have helped you. If I can encourage you further or help you in any way, I will.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
#3 The primary weapon; the great swordsman
Dear Madam,
I wrote to you a week or two ago, seeking to encourage you to rely on your inner strength. I hope to encourage you again, this time with an overview of your most powerful weapon and a quick look at a great classic book, written by a samurai warrior.
There is only one weapon that you truly possess, and that is your self. It is the seat of your will, strength, and courage. It is the starting point of every victory you have ever won and every victory you will win.
Perhaps, in the course of the last year, you felt that all that you had possessed and built was destroyed or taken from you. Even so, you started again with your one weapon, to build a new life, probably to engage in new battles (and maybe some old ones). And though you probably felt weak, perhaps more weak than you've ever felt in your life, the spark within you still tended towards regaining courage and strength. That spark always tends towards survival. It can flicker and waver. And you can feel disassociated from it. But it is there. This is true of everybody until they die, but for some people it always flickers. But your entire life history has shown any martial artist that you have a good and ready spirit, a strong spark that doesn't like to flicker. That spark, your primary weapon of inner self, is a solid weapon, far better than what most people have in possession. And you can train that weapon further.
Your inner self is also the true target of any opponent. No matter what wealth you have that an adversary wants, he first has to conquer your inner person (your self) and put your selfhood in a condition in which it won't animate your body and mind to resist. And when you defend to prevent his assault, no matter how dangerous your armaments, they are useless if your self is not strong, brave, and filled with the knowledge of how to use them. The great samurai, Miyamoto Musashi, probably the greatest swordsman who ever lived, urged his students to build a stronger inner person before attending to sword technique. Battles, he asserted, are won first by means of "martial enlightenment" ("heiho") than by the sword itself.
I ask that you will allow me to present this perspective to you. I know it is foreign to Westerners, especially women. And I don't expect you to agree with it. But it may at least give you insights that will help you as you start your new life and combat adversaries, grief, perhaps self doubt, etc.
Care for the primary weapon is crucial to survive catastrophe and to struggle through to victory. What happens to the body affects the spirit, and what happens to the spirit affects the body. Both body and spirit need patient care: adequate rest, quiet refreshment, the study of things that uplift courage and dignity and right behavior. Caring for the inner self is as individual as the way people speak or write. But providing a structure of care for the physical body can stabilize emotions, create a sense of security, and improve health. Food, rest, and exercise are the basis for this care.
Additionally, times of quiet and privacy are also needed to care for the self. Reading, prayer, and/or reflection keep a person centered. They offset stress and balance out the inner self. They also re-instill a person's values into the mind. Sometimes in a time of grief or great personal stress, it is hard to reflect on things because so many thoughts are painful. And not everybody believes in prayer. But quiet time and reflection can include escape into great things that have nothing to do with current difficulties. I read C.S. Lewis for comfort. Other favorites include Louie L'Amour, Charles Dickens, A. Conan Doyle, and Dr. Who fiction.
This is the value of caring for the primary weapon of your inner self: If everything is snatched away from you, you have your weapon still within you. If you know what your weapon can do, you can use it to win again, to drive off danger, to protect what you choose to protect.
Miyamoto Musashi wrote an excellent book on strength of will, strategy, and the power to win at any endeavor. It is called THE BOOK OF FIVE RINGS. Off and on during my career in the martial arts, I have studied it. I have taken it from the shelf again. It takes me a great deal of time to think through what he says, but the book is a power house. If you will permit me to, I would like to synopsize parts of it for you and send them to you, in increments not longer than this e-mail, and not more often than one a week. You may not find everything he says meaningful for you, but his insights may be helpful.
Thank you for your patience in reading this. I write to you out of my admiration for you and my respect for the difficulties you have encountered. The way of the warrior is to seize catastrophe and from it to tear a victory that others did not expect. I think you can do just that.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
#4 Defeating expectations & upsetting rhythm; the "stopping mind"; waiting
Dear Madam,
All battles, in whatever form they take, rest upon using or falling victim to two things: mental expectations and the rhythm of the battle. Musashi discusses these two elements throughout the BOOK OF FIVE RINGS. In fact, they are the two most important components of battle theory. Foil the expectations that the other side has about you, your strengths, your reactions. Within yourself, harbor no expectations about the opponent. Know the rhythm of attack and defense, and upset the rhythm of the other side. That's how you win. These ideas will become more clear with more exposure to Musashi's ideas.
Proficiency with weapons/tools is a fundamental of warfare. In your new life, what tools will you need? Pick the ones newest to you or those in which you do not feel confident. Is it detachment? concentration? the ability to rest? Every soldier uses small battles and small encounters to prepare for the real battles.
The swordsman knows he has a new weapon learned when he uses it successfully, without thinking, in combat. In tae kwon do, the new student rushes straight in to punch me. Without preliminary thought, I thrust in a side kick from the hip as he comes in. It drives him back. That is proficiency. It is the action done by default, without thought.
When the negotiator can default to silence rather than an immediate reaction; to taking a deep breath and lifting the eyebrows rather than tightening the throat and clenching the jaw, then that person has proficiency in patience, calmness, and detachment. Musashi urges you to consciously choose your tools and learn them by diligent practice.
In a duel, a samurai warrior usually held the sword in both hands, the hilt at about the level of his navel, the sword pointed forward. The two combatants advanced with small paces towards each other, swords out and still, until they were about one stride out of striking distance of each other. They then gazed at each other, most often with the swords pointed at each other's windpipes. An onlooker would have thought them a tableaux, perhaps statues dressed in warrior clothing. But the sword of a samurai could cut a man in half. Most duels were fatal to one participant. The end would be decided in a split second. And so the two men concentrated on each other: still and calm, waiting for a sign of weakness.
At last, unable to bear the suspense of the blade in front of him, the weaker man usually struck first. The other did not defend, but counter attacked so swiftly and skillfully that he landed the counter strike first. To do this, he might use a slapping or sliding parry that knocked the attacking sword aside but allowed him to continue his own forward motion in a smooth strike. Or he stepped aside from the blow and struck from an angle as he moved.
The lesson of the samurai is that a strong person has the fortitude to calmly wait, even when faced with a sword pointed at his throat. This is a crucial lesson in martial enlightenment.
Aside from causing a premature attack, fear, anxiety, or regret can also cause a contender to break his own concentration as he waits, or make him hesitate in a counter attack. The mind whose intensity can be interrupted from within is called a "stopping mind." It upsets the rhythm of the discussion, negotiation, or battle. It allows the watchful opponent to seize the advantage.
To do battle well, whether in negotiation or in conflict resolution or in physical combat, you must concentrate with mental composure and stay in the present. Calmly regard your opponent and wait for his action. Think of nothing else, and remain ready and calm. (This type of readiness is called "kamae," and I plan to define it more in the next letter.)
Fear and regret have their place in the human heart. Those who suffer guilt must get forgiveness to be made whole. Those who suffer fear must confront their fears to be made strong. But the arena of conflict is not the place for either of these things.
If you choose to use the principles of martial enlightenment, then know what you want to win, and banish fear and guilt when you are in the arena. If your opponent attempts to distract you with attacks based on fear or guilt, force the session back to the matter at hand and promise to look into the rest later. In this way, you don't "push back" (refusing what he has said and thus actually inviting a struggle as he tries to push it back onto you again), nor do you suffer the thrust (being "stabbed" and weakened by what he said). You have simply deflected the attack and shown a strength he did not expect. Acquiescence in itself is a form of strength. It defeats the expectations of the opponent.
If the opponent will not stop bringing in side issues, terminate the session graciously but pointedly (again, defeating his expectations with your calmness). If he yields, and the session continues along the proper lines, concentrate on your opponent with calmness, detached from yourself. Every warrior practices detachment again and again. (I also plan to explain this further in my next letter.)
As illustrated by the samurai duel, the ability to wait is sometimes enough to completely undo the other side, because it completely upsets their expectations of you. If you have to negotiate something or get a conflict resolved, use waiting to your advantage. Enter the office. Ask for tea. Drink the tea. Let the clock tick. Be silent and calm, as though waiting. Let the minutes go by. The other side will become impatient and speak first, especially if it's a man. When he opens the discussion, he is reacting to his need to get down to business and appear in control, and his rhythm and expectations are upset. You now have the upper hand.
When you speak, choose your words carefully as you go, but let your yes be yes, and your no be no. Direct, accurate, soft spoken speech shows a steady spirit. An experienced negotiator never uses sarcasm, as it shows inner fear and haste.
Japanese negotiators repeatedly thrashed American negotiators in business in the 60's because the Japanese negotiators could sit calmly and wait, drinking tea. They wanted to view their opponents, and the Americans, impatient and anxious, (and working on an assumption that American businessmen were superior) played right into their hands and revealed their minds too quickly.
Such discipline takes practice, composure, and self assurance. Again, I explain these principles to you because I really do believe that you are a person of exceptional inner strength.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
#5 Envy was his motive; how to fight back effectively.
Dear Madam,
This was supposed to be about kamae and detachment. But I'm changing topics to something more emergent.
Every opponent moves by habit and timing. He drives you one way or another with his blows or his words and seeks to control you, to keep you doing what he expects, with a strategy that he is used to. If you break that rhythm, he will be at a loss, at least for an instant. And you can gain control. Your opponent will likely strike you with a pattern he has used before.
I didn't know anything about your situation until I learned of your husband's emotionally abusive and controlling behavior towards you in public. I've thought a lot about the incidents that were described.
A strategist looks at what happens, apart from what is said. It's the relationships between events that matter: how they are similar. When you first replied to one of my letters, you said you thought your husband would soon be persuaded by the matters and processing of your divorce from him to leave you alone. I didn't think that was likely, and now I know why I didn't think it was likely.
Please forgive me if what I'm going to tell you is too personal, but I want to tell you what I think your husband is going to do, based on his pattern, or rhythm.
First, adultery is not just about passion. It's a weapon to destroy a spouse. His affair was an attack on you. Yes, it was about control, but it was about control over you, not the other woman. He deliberately built and fueled an explosive and destructive situation and did everything he could to keep it explosive and destructive. He knew that if he were caught that you would be the one destroyed, not him.
Second, doing what he has done in public, embarrassing you and harassing you while pretending to be acting in sincerity and earnestness, was a ploy. Striking with his revelations when you were in front of others and were completely not suspecting catastrophe was his last stand within the marriage to destroy you. All of that was on purpose, too: the most painful and catastrophic way for you to be confronted with his bad behavior.
He will do anything humiliating and destructive to himself in order to shame you. But all of his arranged confrontations are also a desperate attempt to show you that he's NOT envious.
A man who fights at such high cost in public is not going to back off from you, even if it looks like he's backing off. He'll just switch back to a long term plan.
This man knows you, and at this moment, he knows that he's got you into a lull right now, so that you'll think everything is going your way and will end soon. And then he's going to slam you again with catastrophe. Just like he did the first time. The man's cruelty has been too deeply laid. He won't quit now, in my opinion. I apologize if I have overstepped the boundaries, and I won't continue to do so. I'll stick with Musashi. But if you think I may be right, don't be afraid of him. You still are smarter and inwardly stronger than he is.
Though he has great patience in laying schemes, he is deeply flawed, and your responses so far have showed great strength because you have reacted with dignity and self control. But like all women, you have certain predictable weaknesses, and one of them is the need to rebuild your nest and to declare that all is well again. He'll attack that need and upset the nest again and again to cause you pain. But there are always counter strategies. His flaws are envy and anger.
Think about the role in which he himself has cast you. Some part of him views you as stronger and better than he is. He hates you for that, but it works for you. Treat him with pity.
Your divorce is none of my business. I just hope I haven't offended you. But I have not forgotten the references I read to your suffering, your tears, your genuine unhappiness at his cruelty. I know that you possess great courage, but nobody has yet showed you how to use your courage effectively. I really want you to win out.
Again, I apologize if I have overstepped any boundaries. You just discard what you don't like, and if there's anything you do like, please use it.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
#6 Goodness; fighting envy; the better you; the opponent's patience
Dear Madam,
You wouldn't be a human being if you didn't suffer self doubt from what that man did. I'm sure that even your own thoughts have often been a source of pain for you in the last few months. Let me talk to you as a strategist.
Like any human being, you are capable of doing great harm. But more than many human beings, you have done great good. But the single most important good work in your life is the *next* good that you will do. Be continually prepared to do good, great or small, and you will more quickly recover those best parts of yourself that he has tried to destroy. The habit of goodness does not stave off the outward attacks of evil, but it does prevent evil from springing up from within us. As you'll see from this e-mail, there is such a thing as the deliberate practice of evil, and it destroys the person who practices it. And there is such a thing as deliberate good, and it's a preserver. And now, back to envy and combat.
Envy and jealousy are not the same thing. A jealous person wants what you have. An envious person wants you NOT to have what you have, even though he doesn't want it, either.
A jealous person wants to be elevated to your level. An envious person wants you to be brought down to a level lower than his.
For affirmation, Jealousy seeks elevation of the self or the gaining of goods.
Envy seeks the destruction of another person, and that destruction is the affirmation of the envious person.
Know your enemy as you try to reach a divorce settlement with him. Being envious, he seeks your misery, not wealth. He might find pleasure in taking away your possessions, but there's nothing material you can give him or concede to him that will placate him for more than a brief time. As soon as you are happy again, he is miserable.
Envy is quite out of fashion to discuss these days, just like gluttony. And they are probably the two most prevalent vices around. Envy is not an emotion, and it's not a feeling, and it's not transitory. It's like an addiction. It's there to stay, and it demands to be fed, and it gets worse.
Believe it or not, one root of envy is a sense of helplessness. An envious person assumes that his destiny is not in his own hands. He views life as the cards having been dealt, and he got a hand he didn't deserve; and you got a better hand, or you got the hand that he did deserve. But remember the key. The envious person essentially views himself as helpless, as weak, as ineffective. He views himself as impotent to alter his destiny or lot in life.
The worldview of the envious person is that since the rules of fair play were not kept in dealing him his hand, there are no rules on how he *plays* his hand. Be prepared for him to hurt anybody in order to hurt you, and to justify himself (and blame you when he can). He has a tremendous sense of being wronged and of having a right to do what he's done. If you look for remorse in him on any count, you'll frustrate yourself. Envy thinks nothing of using others to attain its ends.
Envy has a specific, identifiable target (in this case, you). It is satisfied only in the destruction or misery of the target (though it will make others suffer if their suffering hurts the target). And it is not easily distracted by other, unrelated pleasures, no matter how deep those pleasures might be.
It's not a static condition. Envy in a person gets more severe and creates new flaws. Start watching for them: irrational behavior, anger, possessiveness, heavy drinking or other abuses, obsessive control, even in matters not related to you. He has a rationalistic explanation for everything right now, but it's just a mask, and it won't last forever.
Now, the weaknesses of envy. The thing he will most strongly deny is his envy of you, and so if you calmly and articulately assess his behavior as that of envy, you'll deal him a good, hard strike (but always expect a counter strike).
Next, though he would deny it, he honestly does assume that you have more worth or value than he does. He is afraid of you. He feels helpless. Maximize all his secret assumptions. Always be calm and self possessed in front of him, always at your best; always keep your voice low and calm. Don't ever use sarcasm with him.
Based on the last six months, he has certain, definite expectations of your behavior now when he shows up. So now it's easier, with good mental training, to thwart his expectations and put him at a loss. If you must converse with him, I advise you to judiciously acknowledge being hurt and recovering. Acknowledge your indebtedness to others.
If you have to be in his presence, honest statements that show hurt and recovery will defeat all of his expectations. Nothing wrings your enemy more than seeing you receive mercy and goodness from others. That's the ultimate injury to him.
Watching you adjust, seeing that you are so strong that you can acknowledge pain, admit to faults, even apologize at times and keep your life moving in an upward direction will make all his fears and assumptions about you seem all the more real. It makes him even more convinced that yes, he is helpless. That he has reason to be afraid of you. That you *are* stronger than he. Be upbeat and purposeful in front of him, and make that happiness rooted in true, spiritual things of the human experience: the goodness of others, their generosity towards you, the satisfaction of hard work and a job well done, your pleasure in learning new things. Those are the things he cannot take away from you: private, innocent, personal pleasures.
It's you he hates and fears, and so the more that you are refined and made better, the worse it is for him. The ability to laugh at yourself, to play, to go right on living by the values that have always been important to you, reaffirms that the person you have always been is a fine person who can survive this catastrophe.
Acknowledging pain, apologizing for any wrongs, and taking constructive measures are all signs of *forgetting* the pain and hurt, of getting over it. And to him, forgetting your pain is the same as forgetting him. He knows that once you're over the catastrophe, he's not going to be on your mind any more. He becomes the nobody he fears being. That's another reason that I'm pretty sure he'll never entirely leave you alone. If you, the object of his envy, forget him, he disappears; that's how it will feel to him. The only link that holds him to self realization is your grief that he caused.
Up until now, I sense that he's been winning in the one-on-one aspect of this conflict: he's able to control your emotions to a certain degree. He won't give up that control position after a single defeat. Men assume that they can gain control again over a woman. You have to defeat them several times before they realize they can't win.
And now, his strengths. The man has patience. He's got a definite ability to make a plan, to wait without giving himself away, and to allow things to develop and then find ways to use the situation to further his ends.
His other strength is that he knows you better than any living person knows you. In some ways, he knows you better than you know yourself. He'll attack you when he knows you are weak. He'll use words and triggers that I know nothing about and that even your family knows nothing about to cause pain in you. But don't be afraid of him. In showing you his flaws, I hope I have showed you your strengths. And his mind cannot comprehend all your strengths. The more you develop a calm and ready mind, the more you leave his comprehension of you behind.
Remember, dear lady, protect yourself. That fall from outward rational conduct to irrational behavior in a man can happen in an instant. I've been talking about how he'll try to fool you and others. But he's got himself fooled as well. Even he doesn't know all that's gone haywire in that envious, destructive heart of his. I don't think it's a good idea to be alone with any man of self-destructive habits.
Remember this, if you still have dark moments: He has tormented you, but he lives in constant torment. He is the source of all his own torment. You *can* escape his torment; you *can* recover; you can enjoy all the innocent pleasures that actually make life worth living. But he can't. You can escape your husband. Your husband cannot escape himself. Nothing that he smokes or drinks or snorts or swallows can remove the pain of being eaten up by envy. All the stress of what he's done and what he wants to do and what he's afraid of goes down to the pillow with him at night, and it's there in his arms when he next opens his eyes. Someday, you very well may pity this man who has wronged you so dreadfully. All the same, please be careful for yourself.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
#7 Kamae; detachment
Dear Madam,
The first lesson in any martial art is the ready stance, in which the feet are spaced naturally and the weapon (or empty hands) are lifted slightly. From this stance, students learn to smoothly spring into motion to meet an attack. They learn to possess calm readiness, or "kamae". Readiness is a state of mind relied upon in the martial arts, but you have probably experienced kamae in non-martial situations.
The best analogy I can think of would be your readiness before going on stage in a theater. You know your part; you know your goals. I'm sure that in your career, you have seen or experienced all kinds of catastrophes while on stage: people tripping and falling over during their entrances, props not being where they were supposed to be, sound cues missed, etc.
And yet, when you are about to go on stage, you are not afraid of all the catastrophes that *might* happen. You clear your mind. You also possess a certain passive awareness as you sense those around you. You are very intent and focused, and yet you are also relaxed and very aware. This is kamae. It is a state of being at rest before action. This is the mind to have before battle. The mind closes out everything other than the present moment, is highly perceptive, and is prepared to carry out the task at hand with confidence. Fear and guilt have no entry in such a mind.
When I fight an opponent, whether he is big or small, of high rank or a new student, I clear my thoughts and return to readiness. Fear is a betrayer, and over confidence is a betrayer. To fight well, I must have a calm mind that is open to intuition. He moves, and I instantly react. In drills, my partner kicks high with a round kick, and I lift my forearms to block it. As soon as the kick touches my arms, I kick, and he blocks. As soon as my kick touches his arms, he kicks again, and so on. In this way, we learn to instinctively kick, without thought, as soon as we block. When we fight, the habit of training simply takes over, and the combinations, blocks, and counter strikes that I do are done without planning---immediate, intuitive responses. They are hammered into us and made a part of us by hard and earnest practice, again and again. And my "inner sword" (or primary weapon) is also trained to be calm and self-possessed. It's all done to build good readiness, or kamae. Kamae is an attitude and a discipline and a component of character.
You have great skill in acting, and so you have good kamae on the stage. Become proficient with the tools needed for your new life, and you will have good kamae in every situation. Musashi taught that the warrior should not have to "switch" to martial readiness. Rather, at all times he should be relaxed, aware, ready: possessing kamae.
Detachment is more difficult to describe. It is a certain distancing of the self from the self. In battle, it is a decision to view injuries done to the self as being done to something or somebody separate.
Consider detachment as extreme objectivity, in which you view your visible self only as another person and your inner self (your primary weapon) as the thing of importance. Therefore if you are called a name, no matter how outrageous, you know it is only an appellation latched onto the version of you that others see, not the true self that you are. If you are vilified, humiliated, accused, stay detached by recognizing that other people's opinions of you can only be attached to the "outer" version of you seen by the human eye. But their opinions cannot touch your inner self.
By practicing detachment, I have learned that another person's opinion of me is far more a reflection of that person's inner self than it is of me. A generous person finds me worthy of his/her praise and thanks because that person is inclined to find my best qualities; a tender hearted person finds me worthy of his/her love because that person is inclined to nurture. Likewise, an envious person finds me worth destroying. A critical person finds me worth belittling.
If you can stay detached, you can use what an opponent says or does to get insights on his/her weaknesses---or strengths. Be unafraid and stay aware of your opponent when you are in his presence. That's when you find out about him and what he's thinking.
Being detached does not mean that you must not feel grief or pain. It *does* mean that you do not let other people dictate how you immediately respond. It makes you the master, even when verbally attacked or tricked into a humiliating circumstance. It allows you to postpone feelings until you can deal with them privately and with understanding.
Both kamae and detachment remove the "personal" aspect from battle or negotiation. People uneducated in fighting mistakenly assume that fighting is an act of passion. Nothing could be further from the truth. Only amateurs and children fight from being overwhelmed with emotion. The skillful combatant is dispassionate, relying on objective assessments and decisions, using a battle plan based on clearly defined goals and objectives, training himself or herself to respond intuitively in the midst of action.
Remember, you must fight this unhappy battle yourself, though I can give you knowledge and encouragement. But there is also a sense in which we all fight the same battle, no matter who the different opponents are. I want you to win, and I want you to fully recover.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
#8 The samurai & death; the training hall experience
Dear Madam,
This week's e-mail focuses on the samurai view of death and martial enlightenment's view of hardship.
"By the Way of the warrior is meant death.
The Way of the warrior is death.
This means choosing death
whenever there is a choice between life and death.
It means nothing more than this. "
--From the book, HIDDEN LEAVES, a compilation of samurai writings
"It is generally accepted that the way of the warrior
is the resolute acceptance of death.
But the way of death is not limited to warriors."
--Musashi, "Chi No Maki" (The Book of Earth, the first ring) BOOK OF
FIVE RINGS
For the samurai, death was a daily part of life. Any swordsman might challenge him, and he must respond with full concentration, with only a minute or two of preparation.
Death is foundational to the samurai code. And death is foundational to courage. Once, about ten years ago, a car accident happened in front of me, and the car that was struck was thrown all the way across the intersection and rolled over onto its side. I ran to it and climbed up it to get the door open and help the driver out before the car's gas tank could catch fire. The whole while, there was a hissing sound from the underside of the car and a smell like overheated popcorn oil. I was sure the gas line was going to catch fire. But it never happened, even after we were safely away; and aside from a broken wrist, the driver was all right. Afterward, when I tried to walk away, my knees kept giving out.
I don't know if I could ever be that brave again, but the one time that I was, it changed me forever. I know now that the samurai were right. Once you face the threat of death, if you survive, you will be a much stronger person. After I recovered and could walk steadily, my inner self was a lot stronger. My primary weapon was better honed, and I was far less easily intimidated by aggressive people than I had been before.
The samurai concept of death is this: Possessions, name, reputation---all are lost, and he is reduced only to his life force and then flung, disembodied, into the void.
And sooner or later, death comes. So, really, whether it comes today or next year makes little difference to the warrior.
The samurai embraced this imminence of death. "To accept death is to be liberated from it" is an old Zen adage. Though he enjoyed wealth and reputation, he was ready at a moment's notice to fling it all away and get down to the one inevitable business of life: death.
Therefore, though he was a man who fought, the samurai was not fighting to prolong something as temporary and transitory as his own life. Honor, according to the Japanese warrior code ("bushido") was better than life itself. Honor could be preserved forever (through veneration of the dead); whereas life could not be preserved. Yammamoto Tsunetomo, a samurai of great rank who was a contemporary of Musashi, wrote, "A man exists for a generation, but his name lasts to the end of time."
Without the prevalence of ancestor worship in our own culture, we don't perceive honor as something immortal. And yet, to fight well, one must know what one is fighting for at the core. What a warrior would die for is what he will fight for. So every modern day warrior chooses the "immortal" reason to live and to fight. (My own choice is "to know". I want to know God's ways with people. But everybody's choice may be different.)
Martial enlightenment is rooted in this: to resolutely accept one's own mortality and set up all plans and values accordingly. Each person's "immortal" reason to live and to fight will affect the manner in which he meets death when it comes. And it will guide his conduct and his decisions in every battle until death comes.
Here is some good news: your opponents are mortal, too, and they also choose the reason to fight. Some choices make a warrior brave, and some choices make him merely savage. With knowledge of your opponent and his values, you can defeat him, with proper skill. A calm and alert warrior can detect an opponent's weaknesses and the values that will collapse under him. I plan to discuss this topic further in later essays.
In a fight, the warrior is stripped down to nothing, as in death. Reputation, wealth, even good deeds are all left outside the arena. It is only the warrior's inner self against the other person's inner self. Therefore, martial training, if it's good, also strips a person down to the inner sword or inner self. To train diligently in martial arts imitates the acceptance of death. That's why physical training is elevated to being a moral virtue in Eastern warrior codes like bushido and hwarangdo (the Korean warrior code). Musashi rates earnest martial training as the second highest virtue, surpassed only by personal integrity.
In the Earth Book (the first ring) Musashi complains about the poor quality training halls of his day. The teachers are selling "only technique," he laments. The same thing is true about the training halls today. Most are inferior. But a good training hall is a theater of life and death, in which all skills and virtues are practiced. Because, with death before each of us, martial skills *are* life skills. Living life to its fullest and fighting battles are the same thing because they require the same resolute spirit for success and terminate at the same point: death.
You have already demonstrated a brave and self-possessed spirit. Musashi, limited by his culture, would not be able to believe that you possess such strong character without being a part of a training hall. To him, earnest physical training was a moral virtue, a vital component of "mind-body" growth, which he viewed as the development of mind and body into a harmonious unit, a single courageous soul. And the principle of the training hall remains a vital part of martial thought and is part of the culture of BOOK OF FIVE RINGS. I would like to explain it to you.
Every serious, long-term martial artist believes in the importance of the training hall experience. The men and women with whom I train---my peers and my seniors in class---are the bravest and best people I know: people of integrity, honor, and kindness. Strong character, we believe, is built by hard training. And we train very hard. Diligent training is meant to break down the body and the spirit so that only the will is left. Musashi also believed this. Time and again in his book, sometimes at the end of every successive paragraph, he urges the reader to train harder. The samurai trained with the sword until it was an extension of his body, and then he trained harder still until---he believed---his soul could pass into the sword itself.
As people train in martial skills with others, they are repeatedly stripped down: exhausted together, driven beyond the limits together, injured at times. The senior students all suffer together and slowly advance while others drop away. The seniors demand the best of each other, and they hope for the best in each other.
In my training hall, we have senior students from all walks of life, everything from repair men to a judge on the Circuit Court of South Carolina. But the trappings of this life---wealth, status, beauty---are left outside the training hall door. Aside from our belts, which measure time spent in training, we dress alike in white, unadorned uniforms. Modern martial arts schools line their walls with trophies from tournaments. Conservative schools like ours don't. The training hall is a place for people ready to suffer. It teaches us to value each other for how we endure hardship. How well a person suffers is the true measuring stick of that person's integrity.
In the training hall, my peers and my seniors have seen me at my worst and at my weakest and even at my most physically ill and emotionally defeated. I've been knocked out in the training hall; I've had my ribs broken there (twice); I've thrown up in the training hall; I've cried in the training hall. I've even been furiously angry there. They haul me to my feet as soon as I can stand. And without judgement or mockery or pity, they assist me to calm down and then explain how best to proceed. And it is expected that I will proceed.
All of the training hall experience, sweat and blood and fatigue and pain, *is* the overcoming of fear and the building of strength and the acceptance of my own mortality. Perhaps one of its lessons is to value my inner self more than my outer self. But I think its most pointed lesson is that in order to accept and bear suffering and death, it is necessary to embrace suffering and death, to seek answers by means of the pain rather than to end the pain.
Strategically, as long as a fighter seeks to end pain or avoid pain, his enemy always knows what the fighter will do. Once a fighter is not ruled by pain, the enemy cannot predict the fighter's actions. Your opponent is now predictable to you because he cannot get beyond his own fears and pains. But if you can get beyond the pain he has caused you (by embracing it and using it to learn and grow), he will never be able to predict your reactions again, and you will thwart him no matter what he does.
I don't write any of this to minimize the wrongs that man has done to you and your family. To embrace grief and suffering is a type of death in itself, and it is never done easily or lightly. But this is what is said in the training hall: the truth, from the martial viewpoint, on how to proceed and win. I hope that this has helped you.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
'To be swayed neither by the opponent nor by his sword is the essence of swordsmanship.' -
Miyamoto Musashi.
#9 Defeat is an Illusion (Part 1 of 2)
Dear Madam,
The only true sign of defeat is death. Otherwise, defeat is an illusion. And you can discipline your mind to overcome that illusion. To do so, you must first understand the impermanence of all things and the rhythm of the flow of events. Musashi carefully points out that for all people, there are rhythms of progress and rhythms of deterioration:
"For the warrior (bushi), there is the rhythm of
being able to serve, the rhythm of failing, the
rhythm of achieving one's purpose, and the
rhythm of not achieving one's purpose.
In the path of commerce, there is the rhythm by
which one becomes wealthy, and the rhythm by
which the wealthy go bankrupt, with the
differences in the rhythms according to each
path.
The rhythm with which things progress and the
rhythm with which things deteriorate should be
understood and differentiated."
--Musashi, "Chi No Maki" (The Book of Earth)
To fight well, Musashi warns us, you must know your own rhythm and be able to resist being drawn into the rhythm of your opponent. Further, you must know the rhythm of life and events that surround you, and you must understand that all that exists does not hold still. Rather, it changes and moves according to its rhythm.
Remember this: nothing holds still in the temporal world. Everything on the face of the earth is temporary. If at any time you view any condition as being a fixed point, you are heeding your perceptions and not what is really there (according to Zen). The samurai took this concept and used it to make themselves indefatigable fighters. And samurai history is filled with battles that went first one way, almost to complete victory, and then rebounded and went entirely the other way because the defenders would not give in to their own fears but found ways to create reverses for the enemy. Create enough small catastrophes for the enemy, and soon you have entirely reversed the rhythm of the battle.
The Zen mind recognizes that every event flows into the next event. It knows that "peace," "safety," "winning," and "losing" are illusory. They are value judgements that people place on imaginary fixed points in the constant flow of events. But there are no fixed points in a constant flow. Pearl Harbor was safe only until the Japanese bombed it to flinders. The Titanic was unsinkable only until she hit the iceberg. Custer had the Indians on the run up until the day they killed him and all his men.
All of these catastrophes were rooted in the idea that the strong would stay strong and the weak would stay weak; in the idea that strength and weakness could be made permanent, in viewing safety as an absolute. And even as there are no fixed points in the flow of events, even so no condition engineered by man is absolute. No human being can create "safety" or "victory" because no human being can stop time and make it hold still to accommodate to his will. Whenever a person decrees such a "stopping place," he is creating (or falling victim to) an illusion. History is filled with examples of generals and countries who assumed they had won a battle, only to be taken by surprise by a "conquered" foe.
Zen thinking finds all kinds of absurdities and paradoxes inherent in every event. What one person views as defeat can also be viewed as the beginning of victory. And what one person sees as a great loss can also be translated as sudden gain. I had to learn this concept by examples, and so I'll tell you a story, and I plan to explain it further next time. For the purpose of conveying to you how stark, deep, and pervasive illusions in battle can be, I'm including some graphic details. I don't mean to be offensive, just accurate:
In this story, you get to be a samurai. You have the honor, restricted to your class, of wearing two swords, the long katana and the short shoto. You also wear the roomy, skirt-like hakama that disguises your foot work in battle, and it is tied at the waist with the wide, sash-like belt called an obi. Like most samurai, you are careful to always be well groomed in public, composed in mind and body. Your gaze is direct, your voice quiet, your speech terse and honest.
But now you have been challenged, so thrust your two swords into your obi and go to the courtyard to meet your opponent. He is already there, waiting for you. After bowing at a distance of 20 feet apart from each other, you each draw your long sword (katana) from the scabbard, hold the hilt in both hands at about navel level, and walk towards each other with short steps, right foot forward. You both come to a stop just out of striking distance and focus your eyes on each other, swords pointed at each other's throat. He strikes first, but not the conventional first strike at your throat or chest, which is what you had expected. You mistakenly parry as though the strike were a high strike, lifting your arms to use your blade to deflect his sword. But he brings his blade down as he steps into you with a sideways step.
The sharp katana catches your right wrist and severs the hand from your arm, flinging both hand and sword to the sand. Not stopping, he continues his forward motion into you. You sidestep and use your left hand to seize his right wrist and prevent him from running you through. For a moment, you both wrestle, as your blood fountains up from your severed wrist in a shower of red over both of you. He quickly wraps his left arm around you. His foot twists around your foot, and he forcefully throws you down. The fall stuns your senses. Your blood is splashed over you, down your tunic, and across the skirts of your hakama. It widens in a pool around you. For a moment, you faint from shock. Your opponent sneers at you and sheathes his katana. Then he takes up your discarded katana as his trophy, pulls the empty scabbard from your obi, and holds them both up in triumph before those looking on.
But you open your eyes, shakily draw your short sword (shoto) from your belt with your left hand, and roll to your knees. Or maybe you even have to crawl to your knees. He is no longer cautious as he brandishes your discarded weapon, and you spring up from your knees and run him through the bowels with your shoto in his unguarded moment.
Now your seconds are free to rescue you and cauterize the wound quickly with live coals. He is dead, and you have won, and you will survive. Surviving---as the coals teach you---can be excruciatingly painful; and even after the wound is stanched and cauterized, you're going to feel pretty bad for the next few weeks. Furthermore, you're a samurai who has lost your right hand. Ability with a sword is how you live; in fact, it is the root of your religion, your self worth, and your professional reputation. And so, though you have a worthy spirit and a worthy name, how will you live after your right hand has been struck away?
In view of your great injury, some people raise the question that perhaps you actually lost the fight. And for several weeks, especially as you recall your blood and weakness and pain, you even feel like you lost the fight. Indeed, you suffer fevers, delirium, nausea, and more weakness as you recover; and even when you are well, every time you automatically reach for something without thinking, you see all over again that you have no right hand. He destroyed it. And yet, you are alive and he is dead. So, how is a fight interpreted from the perspective of martial enlightenment?
A fight is a series of illusions, depending on the minds of the fighters. Your opponent caught you in an illusion early on and used it to sever your hand. But he was much more thoroughly fooled by the illusions that he created, and so you beat him. But now you must rid your mind of many other illusions in order to live in accord with your inner sword and continue to hone it, even without a right hand.
There's no room to explain it further, and so it must wait until next time. But this concept, like the concept of embracing suffering and mortality, is vital to martial enlightenment. All fighting theory rests on it.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
'Know that when two warriors face each other with swords, the body and soul
of each individual is illuminated as they come together in a world that needs to be rid of falsehood and evil.'
- Morihei Ueshiba
#10 Defeat is an Illusion (Part 2 of 2)
Dear Madam,
Here is a familiar passage that echoes Musashi's teachings on rhythm:
"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
. . . .
What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?"
--Ecclesiastes, Chapter Three
Even Solomon agrees that nothing on the face of the earth is permanent. In fact, the concept of impermanence is almost universal in the major religions of history. But the samurai made the most of it in terms of practical application.
To review: The Zen mind is a mind that does not stop as circumstances change. It recognizes that every event flows into the next event. It knows that "peace," "safety," "winning," and "losing" are illusory. They are arbitrary judgements that people place on imaginary fixed points in the constant flow of events. But there are no fixed points. No human being can stop time and make it hold still to accommodate to his will.
Now, back to last week's story:
The samurai challenger fooled your expectations and severed your hand. But though you were fooled once, you reacted well by continuing to fight with detachment. And so with great presence of mind, in spite of your wound and the blood, you closed with him and wrestled to get his sword.
But physically, he was stronger and threw your down. Blood loss and the impact of the fall dazed you. He looked at that moment as the end of the fight. And yet, from the moment you went down, you were in process of recovering yourself, of getting back up. And in falling you began the process of the counter strike.
Therefore, your being badly injured and thrown down, though he viewed it as your defeat, was only an illusion of defeat. The fight had not ended. In fact, being injured and thrown down were the first step of your path to victory over him. Losing your right hand actually opened the path to winning with the left hand. Your foolish opponent created his own illusion in severing your hand. And that illusion took his life.
Your opponent possessed a "stopping mind" that broke its concentration. He stopped concentrating on the fight, on the present moment. Your blood and your weakness were his stopping point. But there was no stopping point. You did not fix on the idea of defeat, as he did. Still living and a part of the flow of time, not distracted by fears or dread, you regained yourself and struck. For you, being thrown down flowed into the next moment, that of rising to counter strike. He was unaware of the rhythm of your battle.
This is the way of all Zen concepts of living each moment to the fullest. The current moment is significant in relationship to the other moments around it, not in reference to itself. You will rise and you will fall in this life, and every rise is the action of coming up from a fall, and every fall by definition comes down from a higher point. To say at one point, "I have won" and at another point, "I have lost" is to lock yourself in a concept of reality that is not really reality.
Regaining yourself after personal catastrophe may take five minutes, five days, or five years. The duration doesn't matter. The rhythm hasn't stopped. Having everything and losing everything never last; they are merely stopping points of the mind. Suffering demands reflection, but not to end the suffering; rather, to see where it is leading, to know the rhythm and follow it. In the story, what your challenger viewed as your defeat was the seed of his defeat. He failed to see that events continue one after another, each leading to the other.
This is the principle: When all is lost, and you feel defeated, even then if you are still alive, you are coming back up on your feet.
In terms of martial enlightenment, losing your old life, as unjust and as cruel as the loss was, was not defeat. This is a dualistic concept: that within every event there are things in a complementary relationship---opposites that support each other. Losing the old life may have seemed like bankruptcy of all that you treasured, but it was also the richness, however painful, of gaining the power to make your new life anything that you choose. Both conditions were inherent in the same event. All illusions that once comforted you were painfully torn away, but the same action revealed to you certain truths. And actually, prior to that, that degree of truth was the one thing you did not have.
You know your environment much better know, both allies and adversaries; you know your weapons better as well. You know what you value. Truth is priceless, but truth can be really painful, too. A new gold coin, like new and painful truth, burns when it's dropped into your hand straight from the mold, but it's still a gold coin. And in its own rhythm, it will become more cool, more easily handled, capable of being wisely used.
And, even if you still feel a level of pain and confusion, a sense of the universe being dangerous and chaotic, you still know the questions you have asked. To truly question what is of value, to feel genuine pain at not knowing, is the starting point for gaining new wisdom (this is "formlessness" to the Zen mind, in which the self rejects its previously held format for the way things should run, and becomes open).
So, "Defeat," as the mind perceives it, is actually the constant honing of your inner sword, the bringing of your mind closer to those things that truly matter. Being thrown down is the choice either to die in the sand or to roll to your feet.
As I mentioned before, the way of the warrior is to tear an unexpected victory from the jaws of catastrophe. Even so, if you set your will to rebuild and be made both strong and good, then the defeat is actually the first step to victory. The old life was the process of making the new life. To lose the right hand is to be made free to develop the left to do great things. To lose the katana, dear lady, is to be made free to use the shoto. It's a whole new method, with an entirely different weapon. But history is my witness: more enemies have been killed in battle by the short and subtle shoto than the katana, even though the katana was the favored weapon.
And so, to get back to the story: every time you reach with your missing right hand for a tea cup or an ink brush and then switch to your left, you show that you are learning to use the left hand in new ways. And soon you take up the sword again, the shoto, and you increase the skill of the left hand until you can again wield the katana---either sword, as it suits you.
Soon, you think of yourself as the Fighter of the Left Hand, but that world's history will call you the Fighter of Two Hands, because for part of your life you did great things with the right, and then afterward you did great things with the left.
But the truth is, it was not the hands that were great, but the spirit and the will that directed them. To the samurai, the sword did nothing more and nothing less than reveal the spirit. *That* is the purpose of all the training and suffering: to make the outer sword and the inner sword one and the same thing in the moment of battle.
In fact, the hands, the eyes, the voice: they can only demonstrate the fighting spirit within and reveal the strength of the inner sword. You might lose everything in this life; you might gain everything. You won't know until you've lived your life to the end. But all you'll ever really possess, according to bushido, is your inner self.
Back to rhythm: Solomon and Musashi both observed that nothing on earth is permanent. Solomon's conclusion, since man cannot hold onto anything, was this: "I know that there is no good in them [man's endeavors], but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life. And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labour, it is the gift of God." So his conclusion is to live each moment to the fullest, and do good every day. Musashi advises that you use the impermanence of life to accrue victories and increase the honor of your name.
But both agree that the only thing to do is to live each moment fully, and to act with a strong inner sword. The warrior must find the "immortal reason" to live and then develop his or her spirit in accord with it, regardless of gain or loss. If you seek martial enlightenment, you must always roll to your feet and never give in to the illusion of being defeated. You are still a life in progress. The rising and falling of the rhythm of your life continues until death.
For next week the alternate point (a much shorter one): Victory is an illusion. And that will bring us to the close of the first of the five rings.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
'Conquering evil, not the opponent, is the essence of swordsmanship.'
- Yagyu Munenori
#11 Victory is an Illusion; breathing; end of the first ring
Dear Madam,
Being defeated is an illusion. But being victorious is also an illusion. No experienced general who forces a truce ever really believes the truce is going to last.
No matter how solemnly two opponents promise peace, a truce is always a chance for the weaker side to rebuild and attack again. And the retreat or disappearance of the enemy is never a sure indication the war is over. Truces have often been the gateways to massacres of the side who really believed in them; those who failed to be vigilant.
Even after a warrior wins a fight, he must be just as perceptive and aware as he was at the beginning of the fight. Japanese martial artists call this awareness after a victory "zanshin" (literally, "perfect finish"). It is the descriptor for a mind at peace after battle but ready to immediately fight again without hesitation. Zanshin is simply kamae "after the fact". Westerners may have difficulty in seeing that a mind at peace can also be a mind prepared for an attack. And yet in bushido, these two components make up a single mind: the mind of kamae before a fight, the mind of zanshin after a fight: a mind of composure and rest, and yet prepared.
Good and well developed kamae is an excellent tool for a strong and brave woman. A woman wants her universe to be still and calm. And yet if her opponent is an angry man, he will seek to create havoc in her life so that he can see the havoc and feel powerful. That's the way of an angry and frustrated man. So to maintain good kamae, she must recognize that peace and safety are guaranteed only by calm readiness at all times and a strong inner weapon.
Breathing is a part of good kamae. When somebody suddenly frightens you, your breath probably goes high in your chest, perhaps even to your throat where it actually causes shortness of breath. This "high" breathing is a trigger to run from danger, a change from normal breathing to quick, shallow breaths suitable for a sudden sprint. This breathing also influences your mind. You may realize that you must stand and face whoever is intimidating you. But as long as your breath is high in your chest, then part of your mind will stay fixed on getting away.
The solution is to treat your breath like a ball of energy and sink that ball back into your abdomen, all the way to just below your navel. Sink the breath and slightly flex your knees, giving your mind a sense of making a deep stance, taking a stand. This helps clear your mind and fix it on the conflict instead of on escape. I've read that actors study breathing, so maybe you know these principles already. But this is the martial application.
You have a strong and brave fighting spirit. That spirit resides in your lower abdomen, a couple inches below your navel. Maybe this sounds too strange to take seriously, and I'm not sure that it's really true. But it works to think this way. When you must "stand and fight," keep your spirit seated deep within you, just below your navel. Your spirit is tied to your breath. So sink your breath and make yourself stable and calm. Breathe with your abdomen.
These are the guidelines for a proper "ready stance" before any type of conflict: Keep your head erect and level, your posture straight and yet relaxed, and fix calm eyes on your opponent. Stay calm and breathe all the way to your lower abdomen with regular breathing and stay fixed on what is being said, dispassionately (detached), with the mind clear and intent. Anger is only an illusion of strength. Fear will betray you.
Behave with sureness in yourself and a determination to be both reasonable and powerful in your inner self. Don't let anybody take these things from you, because you have both reason and power. A smart opponent will try to upset your emotions or make you feel weak and defenseless.
Remember: No matter what wealth you have that an adversary wants, he first has to conquer your inner person (your self) and put your selfhood in a condition in which it won't animate your body and mind to resist. Your inner self is the first target of any opponent. And no matter what weapon you hold, all your defenses come first from your inner self, your inner sword. And your inner sword is very strong, far stronger than what most people have in possession. And yet, as strong as it is, you must keep honing it. Because if you stop, it will become weaker. As you probably remember, that is the lesson of the training hall: to embrace suffering in order to be polished and strengthened.
We are at the end of the "Chi No Maki" (Book of Earth). The "Mizu No Maki" (Book of Water) is next. For next time, "soft" and "hard" methods of attack, and seeing the differences between what appears to be real and what is real.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
"It is easy to kill someone with a slash of a sword. It is hard to be impossible for others to cut down."
-- Yagyu Munenori
#12 Combat methods; tatemae and honne; ken and kan
Dear Madam,
The second book, the "Mizu No Maki," or "Book of Water" discusses technique in battle and the proper mindset for applying it.
Here is a quick background on combat methods. All of these concepts are applicable to combat at any level, including confrontation:
Combat methods are hard, soft, or weapon-based. Musashi's sword style (kenjutsu) is a weapon-based martial art. Other weapon-based arts include the staff (bo), the sickle (kama), the flail (nunchaku), the three-pointed sai or jitte, and even the well-handle (tonfa) and the oar (ekubo). For your purposes, notice that weapons can be made from whatever is at hand---even intangible items. Anything that brings an opponent closer to what he or she fears is a weapon---at any level: words, actions, intentions, etc. In fact, according to Musashi, your most valuable weapons are the fears and moral flaws of your opponent, all of which you can exploit.
A soft martial art is an empty hand (weaponless) art that uses circular techniques, balance, and leverage. These styles usually involve yielding and rolling and the use of grasping, guiding, and joint locking rather than explosive blows. Aikido, jiu-jitsu, and tai chi are all soft styles. A soft style uses the opponent's attack against him. The defender gives way and doesn't push back. Instead, he or she often acts as a fulcrum to send a charging attacker flying through the air. "Soft" fighting conserves your strength and exploits the strength of your opponent against him or her.
The key to "soft" fighting is excellent detachment, not fearing threats, accusations, or blame, and being able to seize opportunity to let the other person trip himself up or lose control in his attack. Sometimes, just by continually *asking* an opponent to explain or define terms, you can get him tied up in his own lies or get him to reveal hidden motives. Gentle, non-aggressive "Questioning" is an excellent soft technique in non-physical combat.
Kicking and punching styles, with their straight line movements, their reliance on strength and snapping speed, are hard styles. Wing Chun uses a flurry of short hand strikes that confuse, deflect, and strike the opponent. (Bruce Lee's hand striking method was Wing Chun.) In contrast, tae kwon do would use a single, long, explosive kick to break a man's jaw or ribs and end a fight. The hard stylist sees an opening and strikes. "Hard" fighting frightens an opponent and shows your resolution; you directly communicate your inner spirit as you attack and counter-attack---even if it's just with words. Being prompt with hard fighting gives you a psychological edge over most opponents. Hit with truth and integrity from your inner sword, no empty threats, and use steady eyes.
In dealing with psychological aggression, a woman has the option to be "soft," (to elicit responses from her opponent that reveal his mind; to guide him into betraying himself, to question rather than accuse, until he trips himself up by what he says). She can be "hard" (to contradict him, to be confrontational---but not angry), and she can even use "weapons" (using anything he fears to force her own terms onto him). A fighter chooses his method according to his opponent and the current conditions.
In all skillful combat, there are "tatemae" and "honne." Tatemae is what you allow the opponent (or anybody) to see of you. It can be an unreadable exterior or an actual illusion you create. Once a woman gets past anger and fear in the heat of conflict and can make herself unreadable, she has already defeated many of the expectations of the other side. In any manipulative or emotional attack, the opponent expects a woman to react, to show some sign of stress---anger, fear, etc. When she doesn't, she's gotten an advantage by defeating her opponent's expectations.
Honne is the word for your true intentions or condition. Musashi urges you not to reveal your honne, not to anybody. If you have a plan to counter strike, the enemy must not see the gleam of anticipation in your eye. If you sense that it is impossible to win at the present moment and have a plan of escape, the enemy must not see your tension.
In any conflict, your eyes, your face, your voice, and your hands can give you away. They are the four points to observe ("the gates"). They must be smooth, relaxed, like placid water. Water takes the form of its container. It reflects agitation on its surface. Therefore, have a mind that is calm and confident, focused on the present moment, and by that method you will show calmness to your opponents.
Next, Musashi makes the distinction between seeing only the outward appearance ("ken") and seeing beyond appearance to what lies beneath the surface ("kan"). Your opponent will create illusions to keep you in a false peace, and he will also create illusions to intimidate you. You must see through him (kan). Know him in the sense of knowing the inward things: his values, his flaws, his ego, his blind spots, and where he will possess a stopping mind.
People who prey on others actually are very fearful, but the defender has to find out what it is they fear. And they are also very egotistical, so the defender has to find out what will deflate them---locate the truth about them that they cannot face. But always realize that fearful people can still be vicious people, even violent people. And they can be vengeful. Please keep yourself protected.
The last resort (aside from violence) of an opponent against a defender is blame. Blame is a means to cause you to waste the energy of your spirit. An opponent will seek to use it to his or her own advantage, a game of ken and kan, in which he zeroes in on the heart and soul of his prey while pretending to state only facts or casual observations. All that any person can do is confess any wrongdoing and make it right (or get forgiveness), confront inner fears and resolve them, and then go on. Musashi's method of combat relies on a strong inner sword. Polish it well and keep it sharp for the next duel. Be prepared to "turn the tables": to exploit the opponent's fears and ego when you are emotionally or verbally attacked.
For next time: being fluid, keeping the mind in control over the body, guarding and exploiting communication.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
"Kill selfish desires, bravely face all enemies, and keep a stainless mind - this is bushido."
-- Yamaoka Tesshu
#13 Be fluid; the mind rules the body; depth of spirit
Dear Madam,
All people who seek to gain strength suffer setbacks, in which they go all the way back to the beginning (or seem to) and are reduced to weakness again. I was badly defeated in another school this past Friday night. The instructor wrist locked me, pushed my face into the mat before the students, and forced me to admit that I was beaten. But there's always next Friday night. And the Friday after, etc. But it reminded me of something that Musashi neglects. Setbacks are a natural part of the progress towards strength. A fighter can only accept them, then embrace them, and then use them to be made strong all over again.
Runners fall during a race; ball players strike out. Everybody who trains has what they call "bad days." Sometimes setbacks come from within and sometimes from without. But they are a part of training. I write this to say that as you get stronger, please don't be discouraged if something should set you back and make you feel weak again. Being pushed backward now and then is actually a natural part of moving forward. Your spirit is strong enough to continue on the path you choose.
"Do not become tense, and do not let yourself go.
Keep your mind on the center and do not waver.
Calm your mind, and do not cease the firmness for
a second. Always maintain a fluid and flexible,
free and open mind."
--Musashi, "Mizu No Maki" (the Book of Water)
To be fluid is to be able to alter course in order to reach a destination, like a stream does when a boulder is flung into it. The fighter must be fluid because an opponent will change tactics and be disruptive to get what he wants.
We all come from the womb figuring out ways to get what we want, learning to adjust to different people in order to charm them, intimidate them, cooperate with them, etc. This is why it is crucial to defeat the expectations of the other side. They can't get a handle on you to manipulate you if they can't determine your thoughts or inner reactions. When all signs of fear and all signs of anger have disappeared from your face, eyes, voice, and hands, they don't know your thoughts.
Suddenly the attacker "can't see you," the real you, the inner you. In a sword battle, not revealing anything to the other side was nicknamed "being invisible." Chances are, the more "invisible" one person becomes, the more agitated and highly visible the opponent will become. Your invisibility may create sudden uncertainty and wariness in an opponent, perhaps outright fear. Learning to become invisible is part of being fluid---attaining the transparency and yet the opaqueness of deep water.
To be fluid in battle, Musashi writes, always watch for a change in tactics and be ready to adapt. Be wary of falling into your own expectations. Nobody can truly say, "Now all is well; I am safe from harm." But a person with a trained inner weapon can say, "I am ready to meet the next challenge."
Some historians think that Musashi began his path to martial enlightenment when he had to duel with a renown swordsman named Sasaki Kojiro. Kojiro, an acclaimed sword master, was faster than Musashi and more expert in sword technique. Because Kojiro was favored to win, the match was to take place before a crowd of wealthy and prestigious families.
Musashi came three hours late to the duel, still dressed in his pajamas, with his hair wrapped up in a towel. He appeared to be hung over. Nobody had ever done such a thing in a public duel. It was an insult to samurai tradition, courtesy, and culture. Kojiro was furious. Shouting, he attacked Musashi. Musashi killed him with the first blow.
Some biographers assert that this was when Musashi realized that all fighting, ultimately, is a matter of the mind, of psychology. Certainly, he proved that a good fighter must be able to adapt, to be fluid and yet firm, able to accommodate to the unexpected and still strike with sureness and mental control.
From Musashi:
"Do not let the mind be dragged along by
the body or the body dragged along by
the mind."
Physical pain induces emotional pain: surrender, grief, etc., and so the mind must rule even during illness. This was part of the discipline of the samurai.
In many conflicts, Musashi adds, weariness is more common and more subtle than outright pain. A weary expression tells others of weariness and even reinforces it to the self. The samurai, whatever his state of health or his circumstances, was instructed to meet the day and his family with composure, courtesy, and a ready spirit. ("Shave the top of your head daily and anoint it with perfume," one advisor wrote.)
To sink the breath to the lower abdomen is a good way to keep the breathing steady and strong, and to maintain composure. Many martial artists spend a few minutes every morning focused and relaxed, gently guiding their breathing to the lower abdomen, using the lower abdomen as part of the breathing mechanism, to draw the breath down below the navel. This practice induces calm readiness.
The confidence of a quiet and ready spirit quickly warns away predators who look for weakness in others. A relaxed but ready attitude---observable in the eyes, face, voice, and hands---speaks of strength. This is samurai bearing, in which the calm and disciplined mind rules the body.
Again, from Musashi:
"Strengthen your fundamental spirit
and act in such a way as to not
reveal the depth of your spirit to
others."
"Fundamental spirit" is the same thing as the "primary weapon," "inner weapon," and "inner sword." They all are all names for the same thing: the seat of your will, your courage, and your determination; what is also called your fighting spirit.
Musashi's warning has two sides: First, do not be visibly shocked or dismayed by setbacks. And second, beware of impatience in coming in for the kill. Both are dangerous and can betray a fighter or make him hasty.
As Musashi learned from Kojiro, let the overconfident opponent rush you. Never rush him. Also, a mind of depth never openly triumphs over a win. A warrior calmly finishes one battle and then prepares for the next, his attitude unchanged ("zanshin").
Musashi's warning goes deeper than mere expression and attitude. He warns the reader to take nobody into confidences regarding battle plans.
In the samurai culture, creating a strategy was a spiritual exercise, a matter of seeking or verifying one's own enlightenment, the validation of a person as a warrior. Therefore, strategy was personal and private. The samurai understood that any fight will be deeply personal, self-revealing, instructive, and cataclysmic.
Musashi's cautions are echoed in the writings of other samurai. Apart from the spiritual matters, their lives hung on their discretion. And especially in his type of fighting, which is so psychological, keeping strategy hidden is crucial.
Water tires out those who resist it. It is just yielding enough that it will not support the opponent, but just strong enough that he has to keep struggling against it. By the pint, it is transparent and invisible. But as an ocean, nobody can see into its depths.
No human being possesses the power to destroy evil or ill-will outright. But by being fluid, we can turn evil attacks aside and remain fixed on the values we believe in, unshaken by what others do. To be flexible and adaptable like water ensures the ability to recover from attack and to learn.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
"Water bears no scars."
-- Japanese proverb
#14 From Aikido: Blending
Dear Madam,
Because you and your lawyer must meet with your husband and his lawyer this Wednesday, I decided to discuss this concept from aikido. There is a method for taking a sword or knife from an opponent when you are unarmed. This is called "blending."
An unarmed defender against an armed attacker is at a disadvantage in that even a clumsy rush can injure him or kill him. The knife or sword, even when swung blindly or with bad technique, can slash him.
So the solution is not to interrupt the vicious attacker as he attacks. Instead of direct resistance, the defender turns as the rush comes in, slipping alongside the striking arm and gently guiding the weapon hand at a slight skew---just a few degrees off its intended track. Indeed, the defender does a complete turn so that he or she is actually facing the same direction that the attacker is going, right within the attacker's personal space. Thus the defender "blends" with the attack, attains a very similar direction and flow of movement, and then uses balance and inertia to throw, sweep, or wrist lock the attacker and take the knife away.
In emotional violence, to blend is to agree and yet guide a person to your conclusion, not his.
I don't think that your verbally abusive husband will let you get away from his presence without making some attempt to hurt you. I believe that controlling you is his means of self realization, so he will seek to hurt you or humiliate you in front of others. So when you must meet with him and the lawyers this week, you will have an opportunity to hand him a stunning psychological defeat. He doesn't know your mindset any more. Since you last saw him several weeks ago when he accosted you in public, you've had time to recover, reorganize yourself, grow, and learn. Since he can't grow, he won't comprehend these changes in you.
You already have a much clearer idea of the rhythm of his battle than he has of yours. He'll attack you in some predictable ways: comments on topics where he's observed your vulnerability before, provoking or outrageous statements, made very loudly and bombastically. With at least two lawyers there to serve as audience, he'll be on center stage in his mind. And he still thinks he can control your reactions.
To blend with an emotional attack, the defender must be detached and able to see the seat of fear, anger, and envy that motivates the attacker. Truth doesn't have anything to do with accusations, even if those accusations are true.
In other words, your husband may use true events to blame or accuse, but he's not interested in bringing up the past in order to resolve it. He only wants to hurt you or force you to fight back. So if he starts hitting you with his baggage from the past, you can blend by not arguing, but asking him what he would like you to do about these things *now*. (not sarcastically; ask kindly.) You don't have to agree or disagree with his claims, but you can put the load back on him by asking what it is he wants you to do to resolve what he's talking about. If you reply to him, reply in terms of a person seeking closure, not justification. That will surprise him and dismay him because he doesn't want closure. He expects you to want to be vindicated or justified, not finished.
Alternatively, you might be able to get an accusation down to a more direct question: "Are you trying to resolve that situation with me, or do you just want to blame me?" And it's very disarming to add, "You can blame me if you like---if it helps you move on with your life. I don't mind." Statements like that make it clear that you're not affected at all by his words and that you're moving on.
I don't think it's possible to make him be silent, but you can guide him to lose control of himself. Frustrate him by not being the person he demands you to be, the person he has come to hurt and belittle. If he starts shouting, that means you're winning. Let him shout. (Just don't be alone with him.)
This man's unfaithfulness, his harassment of you, and every other cruel thing that he has done to you are what he triumphs in. He holds it over your head that he's not sorry. From what I can determine from his actions in public, he takes a sort of glory in his wrongdoing. (That, of course, is just a big show to hurt you.)
To break that hold, you can behave as though you accept that he's not sorry, and you're ready to move on anyway. I'm telling you this as though we were two black belts discussing strategy for an upcoming fight. What he did was terribly cruel and ten months is not enough time to fully get over pain like that and such betrayal. But if he sees your grief, he will keep tormenting you with his lack of remorse.
If he does try to torment you this way, you can use what he did and his triumph in it to take him to your conclusion, not his. Instead of struggling you can blend:
Make it clear that you no longer expect him to understand your grief and feel remorse. Indicate that you realize that you cannot change his feelings or his viewpoint, but neither can you ignore your own feelings and your viewpoint. And your feelings are very strong about this. So you have to re-organize your life to deal with the pain and the grief that he obviously is unable to feel. Again, you use his attacks to show him that you are reaching closure, that you are moving on---without him.
In blending, you can express a detached and distant pity for him and acknowledge that you know he is hurting and feels helpless. All of this will catch him by surprise (and frustrate him). He wants and expects you to be angry. He's going to look for unresolved grief in you to satisfy himself. If he blames you for his own hurt, suggest therapy to him (kindly, not sarcastically). Tell him to rebuild his life as best as he can. Urge him to put you into his past and get on with his life. If he attacks, guide him again and again to the conclusion that you are moving on (and leaving him behind). I think that what he fears most is that you're going to get over him and just forget about him; that he will cease to matter to you at any level. The more real you make that fate seem to him, the more you'll see his fear and frustration.
What blending requires is excellent detachment, a clear mindset, and a good understanding of what techniques and strategies your opponent will use. If you want to use blending, you'll need to review every way that this man has tried to manipulate your feelings in the last few meetings between you (his patterns of attack). Then you'll need to figure out the lines of logic you can draw from what he says to suit your own goals. But in blending, you avoid both blame and the denial of blame. You don't get into a push-pull struggle. Instead, you use the opponent's words and arguments to support your conclusion.
It may chill you that I'm suggesting the expression of pity, etc. But, as a strategist, I think you can condescend to express distant pity, and that's better than defending yourself to him or answering to his blame and accusations. It cheats him of his prey to simply say, "You know, I realize you are hurting, and I hope you get help to deal with it." And pity automatically casts you as the stronger person.
He will come to you filled with expectations about you: about your anger, about your pain, about your values, about your fears of what he will say and do. He assumes that at this point he has the upper hand. Do not dissuade him from this. Instead, be fluid and keep agreeing but taking him to your conclusions, not his, to your ultimate acceptance of the situation and readiness to move on. Thus, you will thwart his expectations in every possible area, great and small, and it will gradually dawn on him that he is not controlling you. If he suddenly gets angry, then you know you've delivered excellent "cuts" as Musashi says.
The most important thing in conflict is to stay calm and relaxed. He probably expects you to want to finish any meeting with him as quickly as possible. So if you are willing to give a show of waiting and lingering and pondering things to suit yourself and your goals, you will take away his sense of "forcing" you to stay in the same room with him.
This is what I observe about him:
1. He's living in the past; he's consumed by it. He wants you back
the way he had you.
2. He's unable to mentally grasp some of the aspects of your
intellect and character at this point of your growth.
3. He's very angry with you; he's a slave to envy.
4. Part of him does feel helpless around you. He does have a sense
of helplessness, which he denies to himself. He's afraid of his destiny.
5. He has to see pain, humiliation, grief, etc., in you to find
self realization. And that need will not be sated.
If you think that I'm right, you can deal with his behaviors by being calm, relaxed, and patient, and recognizing that he's regressed as a human being. To defeat him most handily, you can work on these weaknesses and exploit them until he starts shouting or does something else to embarrass himself. Outright anger and loss of self-control from him means that he's frustrated over not being able to control you, so those are good signs.
You have the strength to upset your opponent's expectations on Wednesday and put him at a loss. In fact, you have many, many options. Every fighter is taught this: Relax with yourself and trust yourself as you step into the ring.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
"You must concentrate upon and consecrate yourself wholly to each
day, as though a fire were raging in your hair."
-- Taisen Deshimaru
#15 "No Design, No Thought" ('Munen Muso')
Dear Madam,
"Hit with your body, and hit with your spirit, and hit from the Void with your hands,
accelerating strongly. This is the 'No Design,
No Thought' [Munen Muso] cut. This is the
most important method of hitting. It is often
used. You must train hard to understand it."
--Musashi, "Mizu No Maki" (the Book of Water)
A martial arts master does not think of "breathing;" but rather that he "is breathed:" that the breathing of the life force of the cosmos [called "the Void", in Buddhism] goes through him, and if he incorporates it properly, he can direct the strength of the cosmos through himself at the target. He is limited only by how much of that power he can deliver through his body. When he "hits from the Void," in this way, the mind is completely passive and yet focused, with no thought at all [Munen Muso]; the body is relaxed, and breathing is proper, centered in the lower abdomen. It's by this method that the masters can strike a stack of three bricks with a hand blow and crack only the center brick, or crack all three, as it suits them. Hitting from the Void can be done with a weapon or unarmed.
Hitting from the Void is purely for physical power. But Munen Muso itself has wider application than just the physical, and it influences every aspect of a warrior's outlook on any battle. "Munen Muso" literally means "mind without designs" or "mind of no-mind." It's a key term in samurai thought, the ideal mindset of the warrior. In its most martial sense it means the ability to act calmly and behave in accord with enlightenment even in the face of danger.
Warriors displayed this mindset by composing highly structured poetry as they rode into battle or even by performing intricate dances or playing difficult melodies on their flutes when awaiting duels, execution, or ritual suicide. A person with Munen Muso is living fully in the present moment, with full concentration on this current instant, no matter what his circumstances or what the next moment may bring.
Ota Dokan, a man of great rank who enjoyed considerable reputation for his poetic abilities as well as for his skill in building a great castle in Edo, met his end at the hands of an assassin. The heartless assassin, knowing that his victim enjoyed local fame as a poet, ran Ota Dokan all the way through with a spear, and as he did, he recited this original couplet:
"Ah! How in moments like these,
Our heart doth grudge the light of life!"
And Dokan, impaled on the spear and dying, did not even hesitate as he looked up and recited his final composition of verse, in which the second line makes a pun on his killer's second line:
"Had not, in hours of peace,
It learned to lightly look on life."
The extremes of this behavior, of course, can be written off by cynical Western minds as exquisite bravado. But in the heat of combat it's a good quality to have. To live only in the present moment is vital in battle; it frees the fighter from both fear and regret and allows the fighter to read the fears of the enemy.
Having Munen Muso means that if you are grabbed or attacked suddenly, you strike in accordance with your inner sword: without thought, without panic, without a great gasp of fear, and with complete power and focus. Good Munen Muso dismays an attacker because it seems to him that you were prepared for the attack.
So if you are in a parking lot trying to get into your car, and some man grabs you by the hair, you don't think; you act. You shout "tsai!" and punch swiftly, your head level, with a quick twist of the hip to drive in the fist, sinking it into his floating ribs. Your readiness daunts him even as the punch stings him through the liver and makes him fall back. Before you can follow up, he's running away. The promptness of your response, the readiness of your eyes, and your lack of fear confuse his undisciplined mind.
In Musashi's lifetime, he fought and defeated opponents with whatever was at hand: katana, shoto, a spare oar, a dagger, a half whittled longbow, an iron fan, a wooden practice sword, a borrowed spear. He preferred to fight promptly when challenged, with whatever was at hand. He possessed, as he himself will tell you, excellent Munen Muso.
The term is also a description of moral character. It describes the quality of a warrior's words and actions being one and the same thing. This includes the idea of honesty, but even more it emphasizes the ability to do what one claims or to enforce one's own words instantly. The words of the warrior and the actions of the warrior are one and the same thing. That is also Munen Muso.
It is expressed in terse, accurate, honest speech, and direct, unflinching eye contact. A person with Munen Muso is a person of few words and sudden, forthright action. As a Westerner, I was puzzled when I first watched Japanese-made movies. The samurai warriors---even the heroes---seemed to glare at each other and at their lords. I finally realized that this was not anger but the depiction of Munen Muso. They look straight at people, unwavering, but they say nothing, unless they have something to say. And when they do have something to say, they are forthright and brief. No threats, no harangue, no boasting.
Be hard hitting without being angry. Be willing to stake yourself on what you say. Munen Muso means making your words and your actions one, the ability to confront the enemy with no fear and no ego. It includes the ability to react decisively (not angrily) in accord with your spirit, without needing to think. This "no-thought" method, as Musashi says several times, requires diligent training and inner development. To use it well, a person must be free of self-doubt, completely sure of his or her values, and calm.
It is difficult, in a moment of sudden catastrophe, to behave coolly and decisively, without panic. The samurai practiced inner stillness and meditation to achieve such a mindset. In our culture, I think that Munen Muso is best achieved by being able to let go of anything---or any one---at any time. Like the cherry blossom, to be lovely and glorious in one moment, and in the next to release the branch and drop away without a sound. This is difficult for all of us, but the secret to fighting calmly on the instant is to be able to accept whatever comes next, and that means letting go of this present moment instantly.
And this is what Munen Muso accomplishes: When your husband first hurt you so terribly, it was overwhelming and you had to get away. Within a few days or a couple weeks, you could hold yourself together, but only with great effort, and the stress was still visible in your bearing. After a few more weeks, during which time he further tried to hurt you, you could greet him with rigid self control, obvious distaste, and coldness.
Now is the time to be more relaxed in his presence, more genuinely at ease with yourself, as one who accepts that he is depraved and cannot recover. For now, the best thing is to be the person who has faced the worst, accepted it, and is prepared to move forward, with quiet self assurance. This is necessary to disrupt his rhythm and also to show your improving strength and to let you gain more confidence in your ability to be detached from his attacks. So the best demeanor at the moment is relaxed, calm, able to accept that he's a monster, and pity him for it.
But the goal in terms of martial enlightenment---if you choose it---is to face him with steady eyes, with a spirit that "crushes his spirit," as Musashi writes (and it is discussed in a future essay), so that your expression and your will transmit themselves into the pit of his stomach and quell his spirit. This is not done by ferocity or anger, but by Munen Muso, the energetic yet controlled demeanor of a samurai possessed by readiness at its fullest and most potent. This, as Musashi writes, "requires diligent training."
Sincerely, Jeri Massi
"Be grateful even for hardships, setbacks, and bad people. Dealing with such obstacles is an essential part of training."
-- Morihei Ueshiba, founder of aikido
#16 The inner sword; accepting; emptiness
Dear Madam,
The Fire Book, "Hi no Maki" discusses doing battle in terms of your opponent. This means understanding how combat itself works, and it means understanding how your opponent works.
"You can understand the enemy's strategies, his
strength and resources, and come to appreciate
how to apply enlightenment [heiho] to beat ten
thousand enemies.
"Any man who wants to master the essence of my
strategy must research diligently, training
morning and evening. Thus can he polish his
skill, become free from self, and realize
extraordinary ability."
--Musashi, "Hi no Maki" (The Fire Book)
Musashi makes clear that the greatest virtue of his method is that it relies so heavily on perfecting the inner spirit rather than extravagant technique of swordsmanship. To be perfectly truthful, Musashi founded the Niten Ichiryu [Two Heavens as One] school of swordsmanship, which taught the fighter to hold the katana in his favored hand and the shoto in his other hand. His whirling, two-sword style was actually the ultimate in flashy and unconventional technique.
But in spite of being a product of his times, he still shows extraordinary perception. His emphasis is on the power of the inner sword, the polished spirit, as the directing force behind any technique.
The first phase of war is understanding. How do you come to understand the enemy's strategies? According to Musashi, (and bushido) the warrior can do so by developing his own spirit, by eliminating deceit from his inner person, by accepting his own mortality, by embracing hardship, and by training with sincerity. Thus, the warrior grows into a "polished" person who can look without fear into another person and see his mind.
To attain martial enlightenment ("heiho") is to become formless, without expectation, without fear, and without thought: able to "strike from formlessness." Free from self.
This idea of formlessness remains a future study (the Fifth Ring). But I have to address certain aspects of it as a preliminary to knowing the enemy.
When people are criticized or controlled, they tend to do two things at the same time: rebut the criticism and yet believe it; or struggle against the control and yet allow it. To rebut criticism *is* to believe it, for in forming a rebuttal, a person shows that the criticism has a certain validity. To struggle against control is to allow it, for the struggle shows that the person views the control as a real force in his or her life.
Thus, those who criticize or control others are in a no-lose situation, as long as they direct their attacks against an untrained mind. For in fighting back, the criticized or controlled person is still conceding power.
When you write of your husband having power over you (though you note that he has less now than he did before), it makes me think that somehow in the marriage he must have criticized or controlled you. For the truth is, to an outsider, this wasted, lecherous man seems to have no power over you at all. You are beautiful, talented, witty, and energetic. He is helpless, dithering, vicious, and envious. But from your earliest days, I am guessing, he must have used manipulative designs to control you---at least at times---and perhaps he even criticized you in certain matters. Or perhaps it is only in the last year that his shameless and hostile behavior has given him an appearance of power over you.
Zen teaches Acceptance rather than struggle. To struggle is to be pulled into the other person's rhythm and made to act within its sphere, even though you are resisting. In a similar vein, the Bible teaches to forgive rather than hate, and now perhaps you see a practical and not just a spiritual purpose in this. To forgive is not to say that evil is all right or to behave as though it didn't happen. To forgive is to stop taking evil personally and to commit the wrong to God for judgement, to take your hands off of it, which is the only way to be free of it. Harboring hatred/anger forces a person to continue to bear the wrong done, to continue to relive it instead of moving on.
The warrior comes again and again to the place of what the Chinese call "Wu Ji", the emptiness of the beginner. When criticized, accept (That doesn't mean agree). One very beautiful woman with whom I work told me that her ex-husband would criticize her in bed for being too heavy and not having enough cleavage. She's five foot ten and a size eight. I wondered if he was into skeletons or something. She told me that she had to accept that maybe she was too heavy and too flat chested **for him** but if that mattered so much to him in their relationship then it was just as well that she divorced him (after he'd had an affair). Oddly enough, once she filed the papers, he suddenly found that he could tolerate her figure if she would only give him a second chance. (She did, with the predictable result that he repeated all his former behaviors, and now they are divorced.)
But she told me that she had to come to the point where she realized that physically she could never perfectly please every preference of any man. And there was something good in that, because relationships are built on more than just beauty. Having a few flaws here and there creates room for that key item: acceptance of each other, which is the heart of intimacy at any level.
Being criticized or blamed, though painful, is the opportunity to come back to the emptiness of the beginner. The beginner is open to new ideas and solutions, humble, ready to gain knowledge and apply it. The beginner has nothing to prove and nothing to hide and seeks to learn. Therefore in Zen thought, the beginner is more able to grow than the expert. In my aikido school (in which I wear a white belt), we bow in to the instructor at the beginning of class. Directly behind him, on a shelf, sits an empty cup. Our bow acknowledges the authority of the instructor and the wisdom of the emptiness of the cup. Each of us, from white belt all the way up to black belt, must be empty in order to learn. I could not learn aikido until I took off the black belt of tae kwon do, set aside that knowledge, and put on a white belt again and embraced formlessness: not knowing, not being, only becoming. Needless to say, this attitude has also improved my tae kwon do.
I worked for two people once, a married couple, who criticized me pretty frequently for failing to live up to being a Christian. I tied myself up in knots over it for many months, always upset, always feeling a need to defend myself, and always frustrated because I was actually doing very good work for these people, which they never seemed to notice. Then I remembered *why* I had become a Christian in the first place: because I am a sinner. And so when they criticized me, I brought them back to my true beginning: I am a sinner. It's what entitled me to become a Christian. For, you see, Christ Himself declared that He had come to save sinners, not the righteous. This rebuttal actually got them angrier, but it made me free. Once I stopped trying to "prove" myself and went back to the basics, they had no power over me.
And yet, on the other hand, there is an elderly woman with whom I've developed a strong friendship over the years, almost a mother-daughter relationship. Once or twice I've really lost my temper with others, said some terrible things, and I have gone straight to her, upset with myself, upset over what I've done, and I've found it perfectly natural to tell her where I've failed, perfectly easy to listen to her guidance, perfectly comforting when she reminds me that she loves me and that God loves me; and the task to go out and set things right is then perfectly do-able. I don't want to say that the sin of anger is good to have, and yet being flawed and admitting I am flawed has been a vital component of being loved and accepted.
Having flaws equips us to have the mind of the beginner, to go back to the basics, to emptiness, to not having a need or reason to prove ourselves. Having flaws equips us to be loved and accepted for what we are and thus enjoy the highest attainment of human relationships: selfless, accepting love. And being so loved equips us to love others. Paradoxically, it also equips us to fight without passion and thus be purposeful and undeterred in battle.
To struggle against criticism or control is to yield to it, and so the solution is to accept it and recognize that there is no struggle needed; another person's point of view or words of choice emanate from him, and that person is entitled to his opinion. If you should believe the criticism, let it enforce your credo as an empty person who is still "becoming," who is on the path of polishing the inner sword, of learning more and more, of overcoming flaws and developing yourself further. If you do not agree with the opinion, then allow it anyway, for it cannot hurt you.
But consider the other side: if I criticize or manipulate, I take the role of God, which is an impossible role to enforce: for I am implying by harsh criticism or manipulative behavior that somebody else has an obligation to live up to **my** standards and please **me.** So the person who criticizes or manipulates is already on a path of self destruction, of having to continually prove himself worthy of judging others, worthy of controlling others, and then having to maintain that control. This is a mind out of harmony with nature, a mind that does not see its own place in the scheme of things. Look at your husband, and you will see where that path of criticizing and controlling leads: deception and self deception and finally utter loss of self control and utter loss of true personality.
Nobody can throw off the habits of a lifetime in a day or a month or even a year. But be the person who is "becoming," the person of emptiness seeking strength and knowledge day by day. You only become trapped if you look at yourself and say, "Now I am this." As soon as you "be," you have stopped "becoming," stopped your awareness, tried to make time stand still, attained a Stopping Mind, which will deceive you. Once any person declares that he is full, he ceases to be empty and is no longer teachable, no longer capable of completely enjoying each moment.
Who is full? Your miserable husband is full. Full of envy, full of anger, full of declaring that he is right and you are wrong. Full of bitterness. Full of a myriad and tangle of desire and fear and hatred. He has to hold it all together now, justifying himself and blaming you and boasting and carrying on. Do you suppose he will ever experience the joy of gratitude again? Or wonder? Will he ever have a creative thought, or get lost in a good story? There is a level of joy and contentment that such a man will never feel again, simply because he makes himself unable to receive it.
To go to the emptiness of the beginner is actually to receive the fullness of all of the possibilities of the universe. In Chinese, the Word is "Wu Ji." In Japanese, the word for complete emptiness is "ku," and yet that it also a word for complete fullness. And emptiness comes by accepting, not struggling, staying focused on "becoming," on continuing your personal development and honing your inner sword.
Sincerely,
Jeri Massi
"Those who are possessed by nothing possess everything."
-- Morihei Ueshiba, Found of Aikido
#17 Sticking; trapping
Dear Madam,
Here are two more battle concepts: sticking and trapping.
"Stickiness is not hitting very strongly,
but hitting so that the katanas [long
swords] do not separate easily. It is best
to approach as calmly as possible when
meeting the enemy's katana with stickiness."
--Musashi, "Mizu No Maki" (the Book of Water)
Let me explain sticking in terms of unarmed combat. Imagine that you and I each take boxing stances, facing each other, right foot forward, and hands up in the conventional defensive posture. We wear no gloves. Your lead (right) hand is diagonally across from my lead (right) hand.
I jab at you with my lead hand. Instead of smacking my hand away with a hard block, you drop your lead arm down over the top of my punching wrist, guiding it down and keeping it between us. Though quick, this is a "soft" response.
Because you have blocked right arm over right wrist and are maintaining the connection, our joined arms are diagonally between us---in my way if I want to throw my left. So I pull back.
Instead of allowing me to break the connection, you keep your relaxed and heavy arm lying on my arm and you follow me as I move back. You are not forcing my arm anywhere, just "sticking" to me. You follow with me as I retreat further, and you are relaxed but close, your eyes on my eyes, your arm still sticking to my arm.
If I try to snap my right fist away and strike, you'll sense it as soon as I tense my arm, and you'll hit first because your arm is on top. If I try to plow into you, you'll also sense it immediately through my arm and strike first as I come in, or you'll throw me.
So you see, you can control me as long as you stick. And yet sticking is soft, not forceful, with your sticking hand or arm relaxed---not gripping hard, not restraining.
It takes a lot of assurance and calmness to stick. But it is a great tool for mentally dominating untrained people in a fight. Physically, when you stick to an opponent, you're nearly face to face, your eyes calm, your posture erect, your footwork light and sure as you move with him, advancing and retreating with him, ready to strike. The longer you stick, the more you intimidate your untrained opponent, unnerve him, and silently communicate through your quiet eyes that you are the master.
In negotiation, stick to the first thing your opponent says that you honestly agree with or that serves your purposes, and follow him with it, using it as the springboard for advancing your own agenda. You never get overly aggressive but you never retreat. You remain committed to your goals and you follow your opponent with your goals, never letting him sidetrack the issues with blame, emotional attacks, excuses, anger, and staying focused on that idea that you both agree with, using it to force your agenda onto him. His shouting and other antics don't affect you. Eyes fixed on his, calm, detached, you stick and don't let him escape.
Another method of sticking, is very soft questioning. You question only what your opponent says and why it was said, without voicing your own opinion or directly stating anything about your opponent's motives. It's a method of getting an opponent to trip himself up.
In all combat or negotiation, calmness is essential. But especially in sticking you must be impassive---perfectly calm and detached, with your observation highly tuned and active. No laughing, no anger, nothing but passive awareness and softly phrased questions and answers that meet every move he makes with the topic at hand. You stay intent but gentle, impassive and not blinking often. Keep a patient demeanor, not a stern or insistent one. Behave as though you are dealing with a child.
Bear this in mind, sticking in combat is "soft," and so it has to be initiated when conditions favor it. You have to let the opponent attack before you can stick. But if you're ready to start trying methods of more aggressive confronting instead of solely enduring with calmness and detachment, sticking may be all you need to cause "collapse" in your opponent: to control him in an encounter and to seize control of the dynamics of the meeting.
From Musashi:
"The goal is to get control of
his sword. . . . . If you then press down the
point of his sword with a sticky feeling, he
will necessarily drop the sword. If you
prac