Samurai Spirit: Ancient Wisdom for Modern Life

Introduction

The good warrior knows how important it is

to share his experience with others.

He evokes with enthusiasm the Path,

recounts how he has resisted a provocation,

what solution he has found for a difficult situation.

When he relates these stories,

he does so with passion and romance …

And with a condition to never confuse pride and vanity!

– Paulo Coelho (author’s adaptation)

The soul of the samurai is a spirit that can never be defeated, a dream that can never be extinguished. The brilliance of the samurai vision is expressed in a tradition of stories that emphasize personal training and development. These artists and warriors created a literature that transforms and inspires us to conquer our fears and insecurities and to be our best.

When I was a teenager, I had no idea that I’d ever study the martial arts, but I loved to read stories about samurai. I was attracted by their sheer energy and the way they related to my own life. In a society where there seems to be rules for everything, somehow the samurai I read about were able to find a way to express themselves. I think all teens at times feels this desire to break on through, and that is why samurai imagery, fierce and furious, is so appealing.

Samurai stories told me about people who faced impossible challenges, people who met those challenges with their inner resources more often than with physical strength. They inspired me to think for myself and to understand that no truth taught to me by others means anything if it cannot be experienced by myself in my own heart. Eventually they led me to the martial arts and to Asian philosophy, and turned me onto a path that I have never abandoned.

Most importantly, I learned that we can make every single minute count by appreciating every moment. The stories often had to do with life-or-death situations, but they made it clear that life – no matter how hard it might be at the moment – is very precious, and worth fighting for.

I hope that you will love these stories as much as I did – and still do – and that they will be a source of strength and encouragement to you when you face your own challenges. I have told these stories many times over the years, and in the telling they have changed. Great stories are part of an oral tradition, so they grow and change to reflect the times they are told in. But they are not simply a reflection of life; they can alter life by helping us make changes in the way we live. I’ve learned a lot about the way I am from these stories, and I’ve also found characters who have shown me ways I’d like to be. There are enough role models here to last a lifetime!

I

The Samurai Spirit

A person who has attained mastery of a martial art

reveals it in his every action.

– Samurai proverb

THE SAMURAI’S THREE SONS

Hundreds of years ago, there lived in Japan a master samurai, Matsuta Bokuden. He was known as a brave and talented warrior. So skilled and quick was he that he once thwarted an attack from behind without even turning his head!

Alas, Bokuden, fine warrior and caring teacher, was growing old. The challenges of running his martial arts school, his dojo, were becoming burdensome. The time had come to pass on the leadership to someone younger.

Bokuden had three sons, each a powerful fighter and mighty samurai. He wondered which of his sons would be the best sensei, or teacher, for his school. When he spoke of his quandary, people laughed.

There is no question, they would tell him. The oldest always takes over from the father. It is tradition.

Tradition is important, Bokuden would reply. But it should not be the only star that lights our way. We have to think each problem through.

And questions did nag at him. Would his oldest son be the best sensei – just because he was the oldest? Was it fair for the students to have a sensei whose main qualification was just that – that he was the oldest? Would one of his other sons, perhaps more dedicated to the martial arts, resent being passed over by a brother for no other reason – just that he was the oldest?

All of Bokuden’s sons were excellent martial artists, it was true. But Bokuden knew that physical strength by itself does not give one mastery of the martial arts, or of any part of life. He wanted to look beyond fast hands or swift feet.

Bokuden was a man of action. He knew that thoughts without action are empty. He believed that his dojo deserved the best master, whether or not that man was the oldest. He had to put his beliefs to the test.

Yamamoto, please come join me, said Bokuden one day to his assistant, the highest ranking samurai in the dojo after the master himself. He had been with Bokuden as long as anyone could remember. Bokuden had been Yamamoto’s first teacher, and Yamamoto had been Bokuden’s first student. Although younger than Bokuden, he was not nearly as spry as the old master and had lost much of his strength and flexibility.

Yamamoto wished his master had not decided to retire, and he feared for the future of the dojo. He knew each potential successor had his own devoted followers among the student body. It would not be the first time that a dojo would be divided into factions when the master died or retired. If the eldest son did not carry the respect of the other samurai, many would leave to establish a new dojo. Yamamoto wished that Bokuden would at least delay such a possibility by staying on as sensei as long as he could still move.

Each of my sons has different talent, explained Bokuden. "I will devise a test to see who is best suited to be the next sensei. Let us see whose talents will serve him best."

Yamamoto was relieved that Bokuden had a plan. It was true that each of the boys was very different. Bokuden’s youngest was extremely strong, with big muscles that he exercised each day. Some said they had seen him cutting down trees with a single swing of his sword. Bokuden’s middle son was not nearly as strong, but he was fast as a hawk. He could block a blow and retaliate in the wink of an eye. He could leap high into the air to avoid a sweeping strike with the sword. Often he would land behind his opponent with such speed that he seemed nothing but a blur in the air. Bokuden’s oldest son was neither as strong as the youngest nor as swift as the middle brother, but he had such concentrated focus it was unnerving. The students talked of sparring with him, of deciding which part of his body to attack, only to find that he had blocked their punch before they had even moved.

Your sons are all fine martial artists, said Yamamoto. How will you test them?

Let’s place a pillow over the curtain at the entrance to the room. We’ll arrange it so that the slightest touch will make it fall on the head of anyone who enters. Once Bokuden had arranged the test as he described it, he sent Yamamoto to call his youngest son.

Yamamoto found the boy flexing his massive biceps. Come with me, he said. Your father wishes to see you.

Youngest Son was quick to obey his father. He hurried after Yamamoto. When he reached the dojo, he swept aside the curtain to enter the room. Plop. The pillow landed with a soft thud on the back of his neck.

Youngest Son was enraged by the pillow attack. He drew his sword and cut the pillow into pieces before it could even reach the floor. The dojo filled with a cloud of feathers. Bokuden and Yamamoto sneezed as the youngest son waved his hands in front of him, trying to disperse the wall of feathers floating in front of his face.

My son, began Bokuden. He sneezed again. Must you always overpower everything, even a pillow?

If that pillow had been an attacker, he said to his father, I would have cut him into a thousand pieces.

If that pillow had been an attacker, his father responded, you would already have been dead. Block first. Then attack. All the strength in the world is useless if your opponent gets in the first strike. You must work harder to anticipate danger if you are to defend yourself.

Knowing he had displeased his father. Youngest Son stormed from the room. He does not understand, said Bokuden, saddened by the realization.

The old master found another pillow and arranged it over the entryway while Yamamoto swept up the feathers. When the room was clean, he sent Yamamoto to call his middle son, saying, Let us hope he can do better.

A few minutes later, a slim young man slid through the entryway. With a soft whoosh the pillow fell, but Middle Son was quick. He caught it deftly in his hands. Then he turned toward his father and smiled. Good morning, he said. How are you, Father?

Very well, Bokuden answered, relieved that Middle Son had shown himself to be both agile and composed. Bokuden felt that the family’s honor had been at least partly re-established.

Then it was the