Compassion

Unconditional compassion may be one of the most important qualities a human being can strive to possess. To be selfless is a major key to opening the door to true understanding. I, like everyone else in the world, find this hard at times. I do not have a violent temper or anything like that, but I am human, and humans do not always live up to their true spiritual potential. It's part of the gig. It's part of learning.
“I am good to people who are good. I am also good to people who are not good. Because Virtue is goodness.
I have faith in people who are faithful. I also have faith in people who are not faithful. Because Virtue is faithfulness."
-- Tao Te Ching
Compassion, while to a certain degree natural and latent in us all, sometimes needs to be practised and honed just like any other skill we seek to learn. When we practise a martial art, for example, we expect difficulty and challenges along the way. That's why we practise so hard and so long. Our approach to spirituality should be no different.
"The Art of Peace begins with you. Work on yourself and your appointed task in the Art of Peace."
-- Morihei Ueshiba
And compassion does lead to peace in the end. Sometimes the process feels painfully exhausting, I admit, but our spiritual teachers were definitely onto something when they preached patience and kindness. In reality, anger and frustration merely cloud our minds. They obscure our focus and mental clarity.
"When a delusion like anger is present, we lose control."
-- The Dalai Lama
So although we will invariably fail at times, the pursuit of unconditional compassion is a worthy path to embark upon. It will not only help us fine tune our own spirituality, but it will make us better teachers to those around us as well.
"For hate is not conquered by hate: hate is conquered by love. This is a law eternal."
-- The Dhammapada

Tao Te Ching - 77

"The Tao of heaven is like the bending of a bow.
The high is lowered, and the low is raised."
                                                           -- Lao Tsu

I like thinking about this one.
It has the "meek shall inherit the earth" feel. The Way, or Tao, balances all things. It reminds me of breathing and drawing chi energy from both above your head and up through the soles of your feet. It reminds me of a Heaven and Earth throw where the head comes down to earth and the feet go up to the clouds. It reminds me of finding peace with the lower nature of the Mind and that of the higher.

He goes on:

"If the string is too long, it is shortened;
If there is not enough, it is made longer."

We adapt. The universe provides. We adjust our balance, whether it be our energy, mind, or body. Regardless of the actions of people on earth, the Way will remain intact and unyielding. For the Tao, Lao Tsu continues, takes from those who have too much and gives to those with not enough.
He says: "What man has more than enough and gives it to the world? Only the man of Tao."

This is why the sage "works without recognition," and achieves "without dwelling on it."

And there is no need to flaunt skill or knowledge. Just a bending of a bow.

The Tao of Tarot...

I stumbled upon this Feng Shui Tarot Deck recently. And I like the art.... a lot. I don't do tarot divination but as a visual artist, i love checking out different interpretations of the cards, especially the major arcana. This one, to me, was a great mixture (both mystically and artistically) of east meets west.

But what really caught my eye was the card above: Strength. This card is in all decks and often includes a depiction of a lion and a woman--symbolizing the balancing of our lower and higher natures. Anyway, the above version is different than normal as it shows a man practicing internal martial arts, possibly tai chi or qi gong. It depicts the balancing of internal strength with the external. The Strength card was once referred to as the Fortitude card--perhaps a more accurate name for the attributes it describes. Below I have found another "Eastern" style pack: the Ukiyoe Tarot. I have shown the Strength card, once again, and this time it has more of a traditional depiction with the lion.

the Self

You will never master the Self, yet it should be your life's work to try.
Perhaps mastery just happens in specific moments; perhaps the journey, is, in fact, more important than the destination. The physical world is too malleable and uncertain to contain Heaven or Nirvana. What is left is the Way--the Tao--the path back to one's Self.
And the Self is a sword blade that can cut all things around it, but never cut itself. We must try to keep that blade as sharp as possible. Our Minds need training and discipline.
"Nirvana is reached by that man who wisely, heroically, trains himself," suggests the Dhammapada texts.
Mastery, to the followers of Buddha, is to be found in the transcendence of the world's sorrows. Buddha sat under a tree until he mastered Himself; and His enlightenment was lasting. (So on paper, my argument is incorrect).
But most of us are not ascended beings.... at least yet.
So we train. And train some more. We seek after glimpses of Nirvana rather than total enlightenment. For this is our nature... we are seekers. If we found the entire truth, the game would be up. Right?
And maybe then, eventually:
"With the dust of impurities blown off, and free from sinful passions, (we) will come unto the glorious land of the great." (Dhammapada)

the tree...

In the old Taoist texts of Chuang Tsu, there is written one of my favourite parables about a gigantic tree. The tree is massive and thought to be special wood as "those of three or four spans are cut down to make beams for tall, elegant houses. (And) those of seven or eight spans are cut down to make side boards for the coffins of aristocratic and rich merchant families." Such good trees never grow as big as this one, instead, the trees "never achieve their full stature but fall in their prime under the blows of the ax." Even a tree of one span or more is used for monkey perches, it is said. So what kind of special wood is this? What will such a great tree be used to build?
Upon closer inspection, the tree's branches are observed to be gnarled and it's trunk curved and knotted. The wood would not be good enough for beams or rafters. "Indeed, this tree is good for nothing. No wonder it grew so big. That is how it is! Holy men treasure this worthlessness."
This explains the "hazards of being useful."

being low...

The Valley.
In Taoist terms, being like a valley is to place yourself humbly beneath others around you. By doing so, even the persona of water--arguably the most powerful and adaptable force on earth--will be directed to your feet by the passive use of gravity. It is a great metaphor in terms of slaying the ego.
In terms of physical application, the valley is symbolic of letting one's opponent come to you. Stillness overcoming force. Gravity, as all martial artists realize, is a powerful tool, and is the root of many a valuable technique.
In fact, it reminds me of my sensei who I've often heard teaching students, when sparring with a taller opponent, to bend down even farther, and slowly lure the opponent into lowering him/herself to reach you. Then when you feel ready, the trick is to pop back up and execute your attack.
This is from the same teacher who insists, somewhat in jest, that the most balanced position the human being can find themselves in is lying flat on his/her back.
Likely some brazilian jiu-jitsu guys might appreciate this comment.

returning....

A Taoist concept I am trying to get my head around is the following: Returning is an essential element of the Way.

On the grand universal scale it makes sense, everything lives, dies, and returns to its source. But how does it apply on a personal level? Or, a martial level for that matter?

Maybe, it is merely karma. Everything we give out returns to us in the course of time, as a matter of karmic balance. In Buddhist theory, this does not just apply to the here and now, but applies to the evolutionary aspects of reincarnation as well. But the Tao is more abstract. Perhaps less specific in this regard.

Personal and emotional equilibrium is another possibility. We return to ourselves and our balanced emotional state after every encounter or event. In martial terms this would be exertion, followed by the restful (yet aware) state of being. It would be about constantly recalibrating one's Mind, per se, or even the physical body itself. (Realigning to nature itself?) This is a return to the "unchanging aspects" of oneself.

Lastly, it could all be about cycles--or circles--so prominent in eastern thought. We always return to the beginning of the circle. We evolve in cycles and return to beginner's mind in all we do. In jiu-jitsu, the circle is paramount, and we always complete the circle of a technique and return to the starting point.

And each morning we return to a new day, and study more and more about the nature of ourselves and all around us.

working without doing...

"The sage does not attempt anything very big, and thus achieves greatness."-- Tao Te Ching, Chapter 63

This is what is meant by, "Working without doing." Or, "Seeing simplicity in the complicated."

I, personally, am often guilty of looking too far ahead. I am guilty of trying too hard to achieve results. Any philosopher or martial artist knows that this leads to problems. It hinders growth, rather than encouraging it.

But we fall back into this pattern again and again.

However, plants don't try to grow. Just as our own bodies didn't reach adulthood through conscious effort.

"In the universe the difficult things are done as if they're easy.... Great acts are made up of small deeds."

The underlying concept of this, the chapter goes on to say, is to: "Magnify the small, increase the few."

And then just go with the flow.

I guess this is, "Working without doing."

Awe...

When people loose their sense of awe, said Lao Tsu, disaster looms.

This can be seen being played out daily in the world: A lack of recognition of the sanctity of Self and Life in general. It is, after all, awe that begets respect. And of this there is a massive deficit on our planet these days.

As a martial artist, we must respect skill in ourselves and others, and likewise not take violence lightly.

Journeyman talks about specific goals of training that fit well with this point.

"There is a tendency for most martial artists to feel a need to best their opponent, to beat them, to win," he says. (See entire post here). This point can include the best way to survive a violent encounter, as well as the best way to respect one's own self and possibly the assailant.

Peace, itself, should not be taken lightly. As suggested, it is a result of respect and a sense of awe. It is a divided mind that creates chaotic situations, and being human, as the Taoist would say, we often have to wait for the mud in the water to settle to the bottom in order to achieve clarity.

Empathy and Disaster.....

A culture without compassion will die.
It's a simple survival mechanism, built into our biological makeup, allowing us to maintain a balanced and symbiotic relationship with our natural surroundings.
And it works well.
However, for some reason, there are many in our midst who have mental faculties that bypass empathy. And many of these have become our political and business leaders.
As a result, younger generations grow up believing that success and compassion are incompatible. Unfortunately, in a material driven society, this has become true.
In turn, a cycle of consciousness is created that narrows progressively, on both a personal level, and as a species.
Perhaps, in reality, it is our humanity and our lack of empathy that have become incompatible.
And this will be any culture's undoing.

"When men lack a sense of awe, there will be disaster." -- Tao Te Ching: 72

Dragon Slayers

"There is no greater curse than discontent."

Once again, the words of Lao Tsu as written in the Tao Te Ching.

I bet any one of us can relate to this idea. It emerges during the periodic frustration due to our striving for results.

Such discontent is entwined with our ego's need to recognize it's own achievement. I am reminded of mythologist Joseph Campbell, who equated the many tales of slaying dragons as an act of overcoming our own ego-self. However, we need not slay or suppress such a beast, rather just acknowledge that it exists and is merely an aspect of ourselves that need not oppress us or be feared.

I don't view defeating one's ego as eliminating individual identity--merging into a mass military mindset--but instead, permitting a balance to exist within one's mind while on the path of bettering oneself (as a martial artist or a person). In other words, understanding that some struggle is needed in order to grow, but not becoming a slave to, or rushing towards any specifically desired outcome.
For while the Tao of Heaven does not strive, Lao Tsu insists that it still overcomes.
Take this concept back to practical martial application. To strive intellectually for results usually leads to sub-par form, and therefore frustration. When effortless reaction is used, based in repetitive practice, a harmonious feeling is achieved.
A proper balance.
And therein can be found the skills to defeat the dragon.

What is Truth?

The Truth, say the sages of Taoism, is often paradoxical.

I find this to be accurate, as my entire journey along the path of the martial arts has been this way.

As a child, I was sheltered, living in a remote, forested area on the edge of the rocky Canadian Shield. My worries were much more to do with bears than street thugs, and I really hadn't witnessed true violence until my family moved to an urban neighbourhood after I was close to becoming a teenager.

Then I was exposed to violence--in the world around me and on TV--and I found it to be disgusting.

Don't get me wrong, I knew how to throw a hard check in hockey, and I proved to be a decent wrestler in gym class, but the intent behind true violence sickened me.

And it still does.

Again, it is the intent--as much or more than the action--that even in my youth, struck me as primitive.

"Silly monkeys, give them thumbs, they make a club and beat their brother down...." (lyrics from the band Tool, whose singer is a student of Gracie Jui-Jitsu).

Anyway, to skip a lot of unnecessary details, and rescue this post from becoming an autobiography, I'll return to the concept of paradox, which is this:

That many of us studying violence, in depth, are doing so to become less violent humans.

It is paradoxical. And if you were to break it down and intellectualize it you might, perhaps, come up with good theories as to why it is true. Maybe by better understanding specific behaviour we can change it; maybe by increasing confidence and discipline we can better curb our ego's need to prove itself.

But I don't know, for sure.

We all just know the paradox is true.

The Wheel -- Part Two

While still thinking about the cycles of learning and understanding, I came upon a good Zen saying while flipping through the Tao of Physics, a classic book by Fritjof Capra that has been around for a few decades now. To me, the saying has its parallel in the stages of technical development.

Before you study Zen, mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers; while you are studying Zen, mountains are no longer mountains and rivers are no longer rivers; but once you have had enlightenment, mountains are once again mountains and rivers again rivers.

Basically, we are all using the intellect in order to arrive at a point where it is no longer used or needed. All of our technical knowledge can be broken down this way: we see a technique being done by others, easily and effectively, all as one movement; while learning, we break the movements down into various parts such as, angles, speed, force; and then, after much practice, we come to a state of mind where there is no longer thought involved in execution.

Once again, rivers are rivers.

The Mind Barrier

We need to get out of our own way.
This is a quick summary of philosopher Alan Watts’ discourse on the Tao Te Ching.
He compares this concept to the sense of hearing. When one hears well, he suggests, the listener does not notice a ringing inside his/her ears. When one is aware of such a sound, however, the ears themselves have impacted the individual’s ability to hear.

The mind, too, can be a barrier to itself.
He adds:
“On the deepest level, a person as a whole can get in the way of his own existence by becoming too aware of himself.”
The Tao Te Ching, he claims, can be used as a manual to fix this. He explains to his audience the concept of No-Mind, a recurring characteristic of ancient Eastern Thought and, of course, traditional martial arts.
“Being somehow vacant was the secret of the thing. The highest kind of knowledge is not Know-How, but No-How… It means that (one’s) psychic centre doesn’t get in its own way… it operates as if it wasn’t there.”
Again, a prevalent concept in martial training.
Age-old wisdom says that if we have to look for the right technique, we don’t have it. Mind-chatter is equal to hesitation.
Says the oft-quoted Morihei Ueshiba:
“Ultimately, you must forget about technique. The further you progress, the fewer teachings there are. The Great Path is really No Path.”

The Moon in the Water

"Attain stillness while moving..."

Ah, Bruce, what sweet words you use (Bruce Lee, not Springsteen).

Anyway, this is a statement from Lee's writings, specifically a chapter on combat mobility. He goes on to use the analogy of the moon's reflection in water, still and quiet despite the rolling and breaking waves. It's good, sound, Taoist stuff, which Lee used in many of his martial analyses. He broke down technique endlessly, all the while acknowledging the crucial--yet intangible--mental elements of training that serve to elevate the skill of a martial practionioner.

I think stillness while moving transcends combat.

One who is aware of his/her surroundings while walking along a busy downtown sidewalk is Still While Moving. One who considers what repercussions his/her actions will have amongst others is Still While Moving. One who stays true to his/her honour while out working and exploring in the world is Still While Moving. And one who trains in a combative art for the sake of self-betterment and with non-aggressive goals is Still While Moving.

The moon in the river is Mind. It is the steadfastness of Spirit despite the ever-changing backdrop of the world we live in.

Thoughts Along the Way

"Fill a cup to its brim and it is easily spilled...."

This is phrase from the Tao, and of course it can be applied to many things. In martial arts, I see this as learning too much at once (and retaining little). Or, memorizing many techniques but not understanding the basics. Three strong basic movements can be much more valuable to a student than 100 misunderstood ones.

"Temper a sword to its hardest and it is easily broken..."

This line goes with the previous one. To me, in budo, this would include over-training to the point of exhaustion/injury. It could also mirror the previous statement in that so many finely detailed techniques could be easily toppled by a strong foundation.

"Gravity is the source of lightness, Calm, the master of haste..."

Again, a stable base allows for flow and fluidity. This can reflect physical balance, too, in stance-work and execution. And of course, when the mind is settled, one's movements, thoughtlessly, will arrive faster and more effectively.

"To reduce someone's influence, first expand it..."

This concept may be thought of as a tool in the defensive arts such as allowing an attacker to build confidence--throw an attack--and allowing them to leave him/herself vulnerable to a counter move. Giving the opponent room in order to take it back on your own terms.

"The river carves out the valley by flowing beneath it. Thereby the river is the master of the valley..."

This one reminds me of two things. One, is when I've watched my Sensei spar against taller opponents--he bends himself even lower until the opponent is unknowingly bending as well--then Sensei quickly stands upright, now equal in height to the taller opponent, and then nails them. The other thought, of course, is the intrinsic value of letting go of ego in budo.

This last one needs no comments:

"Compassion is the finest weapon and best defence. If you would establish harmony, Compassion must surround you like a fortress. Therefore, a good soldier does not inspire fear; A good fighter does not display aggression; A good conqueror does not engage in battle; A good leader does not exercise authority. This is the value of unimportance; This is how to win the cooperation of others; This to how to build the same harmony that is in nature."

Budo and the Tao

My first real lesson in the martial arts was when, at 16 years-of-age, my father handed me a dog-eared copy of the Chinese Tao Te Ching.
I had learned some very basic judo when I was about nine; attended a karate class and was shown a few joint locks by a family friend. Later, I would do Taoist Tai Chi for a bit. But although I loved the martial arts, no one teacher or dojo had captivated my mind. However, when I began studying the Tao, or the Way, an entire new philosophy revealed itself to me. The theory of water breaking down rock. Force creating resistance.
The text contain lessons to incorporate into life and the philosophy reflects wondrously what I now know of the martial arts, which I began studying seriously in my early thirties (What can I say? The teacher appeared when the student was finally ready).
In traditional ju-jitsu this concept of softness overcoming hardness is crucial. And to me, in many ways, the concept of energy (chi), is comparable with that of the invisible but discernable Tao.
Currently, my sensei melds aspects of Qi Gong into our jiu jitsu training, and I can say this much about his technique: the transfer of energy is strong. But, as he says, if you’re relying on strength to accomplish your goal, you’re not doing proper jiu jitsu. And this is the crux of the Tao.
Says Wiki: “The idea behind this meaning of Ju is ‘to be gentle’, ‘to give way’, ‘to yield’, ‘to blend’, ‘to move out of harm's way’. ‘Jutsu’ is the principle or ‘the action’ part of Ju-Jutsu. In Japanese this word means science or art.”

Likewise, the Tao overcomes by yielding.