Shocking to see that my last note here was in August. Where did the time go? Back then it was hot and humid. Now the ground is covered with snow. I’ve been thinking lately about the aim of Kyudo practice. Why am I doing this? Why are you? What do I hope to discover or to become?
This past weekend we had a two-day tutorial with a teacher (Hanshi, 8-dan) who I’ve always been interested in. He had some great advice to help with tenouchi, and I’m going to be working on that over the next few months (or more likely, for the rest of my life), but at one point he also told us, “Hayai is not a matter of time but of depth.”
I imagine most of us have heard “Hayai!” more than once, and many are also familiar with people counting the number of seconds that we, or someone else, lingers in kai. I guess that’s understandable: anyone can count seconds. But how do you measure, or even perceive, “depth?”
I was puzzling over this today at the dojo and without even having to ask him, my teacher volunteered that it’s a matter of fulfillment: when your mind, your body, and the bow come together as one. He said this is visible to people who are watching, and it’s when they see that they will think, “Ah… that’s good shooting.”
So now I’m on the trail of fulfillment, but I’m not at all sure how to get there. Awa Kenzo said, “When you shoot, shoot for thousands; it is not just a contest. Your practice is to take on the universe. Your opponents are manifold.” [Zen Bow, Zen Arrow, John Stevens, trans., Shambhala, 2007, pg. 38].
I hope everyone is doing well!
Mu 
That’s a fascinating way of looking at things…not a matter of time, but of depth. That thought puts a lot more meaning into kai. At the New Zealand seminar, the observation was that many archers came down into kai and would just “sit things out” until the requisite time had passed. The teaching point was to build your energy up in kai, make observers engage in your kyudo, don’t sit in idle.
Winter is fast approaching here.
Yes, exactly. I was thinking about that, too, and the frequently used example of the water drop building up on a bamboo leaf until it finally falls. The point being that there is that constant build-up of energy, with the peak at the point of hanare (or really we shouldn’t think about that, but of zanshin). This is in contrast to what seems to happen a lot, where people put a lot of energy in at the start, but then exhaust themselves and just wait for the seconds to tick off before making some kind of release happen.
But how do you build up energy constantly when, physically, a person’s body can only extend so far? It must be the mental/spiritual continuation that is nobiai. “Stimulated by the focus of spirit (Kiai), spiritual energy gradually increases to its highest point of tension, and then like a balloon inflated to bursting point, there must be a release.” [Kyudo Kyohon (English, pg. 70) (Japanese, pg. 118)]. Finding that seems like the key.
An additional thought: a few of the senior practitioners I know speak of the times they have quit kyudo, for one reason or another. For me, the frustration of never quite being “good enough” and seemingly never quite “knowing enough” are some of the stress points that I have to work around. Just as you asked in the lead paragraph, “Why am I doing this?” I wish I knew the answer.
Meanwhile, I’m going to take a look at that book.
I guess for me this is a continuation of the time when I first saw Kyudo and was hooked, so I have to continue until I figure out why I’m continuing! Well, at least until then. I hope I’ll keep going after that, too. In the January, 2013 issue of the Kyudo magazine there’s a little one-page reflection by Shibata-sensei. He quotes Nakano-sensei (Hanshi, 10-dan) who said, shortly before he died, that in his whole life he’d never managed get tenouchi right… that it is indeed difficult. So… maybe I don’t have to worry about ever figuring it out?
But yes, people stop for lots of reasons. I know some people who seem to have just “taken a break” and never come back. I think it happens when we feel we aren’t making forward progress, so get discouraged. But in reality maybe there is progress happening “behind the scenes,” so to speak, and we just don’t recognize it? One teacher said a while back that she’s only just understanding things that her teachers told her ten years ago. So it took ten years of practice before the light bulb came on. I guess we need that kind of dedication!
Meanwhile, enjoy the book! Another that you might enjoy is “The Life-Giving Sword,” by Yagyu Munenori (William Scott Wilson, trans). Much of that book is about swordsmanship but it also transcends that, too. Forward!
Re: “Zen Bow, Zen Arrow” That was a pretty quick read (once I got over the preface), though I’m going to have to read a few sections over again. The middle section appeared to be a collection of haiku, general admonitions and koans…or things koan-like. Is there a Japanese version of this book out there?
I liked the Ten Faults and the Ten Levels of Shooting in particular.
Yes, I like those, too, especially this pair: “Do shoot when you lack enthusiasm; Do not shoot obsessively.” I remember the first when I’m feeling, “Ugh… do I really want to do this?” (usually when the last practice was awful), and the second when everything is going really well. But there are many passages in that middle section that I find very helpful, like “Be in the dojo wherever you are. It is your choice — live like a sage, or exist like a fool.” Also, “Shooting reveals how much trust you have in the Way.” There are also some interesting allusions to Zen and Buddhist texts.
Stevens isn’t clear about where those passages come from but I think the source is 「阿波研造―大いなる射の道の教」. If you ask at a library they can probably get it by inter-library loan. Otherwise Amazon Japan lists it as used… for 40,000 yen!
Why am I doing this? I remember starting it because I had the unspoken need to do it, and I felt it was right do it. I am trying to understand without trying to express in words. I suspect the most interesting aspects in our development can not be expressed verbally in a satisfactory way.
I greatly enjoy your blog and insights. Thanks for sharing!
Yes, very similar. I don’t really know why I was hooked at first, but maybe I don’t need to figure that out. It’s enough that I finally found a way to begin!