PSYCHOLOGY
About two thousand years before Musashi’s time, Sun Tzu, the Chinese philosopher of war, wrote, “Warfare is the Way of deception.”
The word “deception,” or ki (詭; kuei in Chinese), is etymologically derived from “what is not correct” and, interestingly enough, can also mean “to cheat,” “to be cunning,” or “to be perverse.” The Sun Tzu, popularly known as The Art of War, became required reading for every general, warlord or politician from the fourth century B.C.E. through the time of Mao Tse-tung in China, and for every feudal lord, commander, and literate samurai in Japan. Musashi would have known this work well.
About ten years before The Book of Five Rings was completed, another famous Japanese swordsman, Yagyu Munenori, wrote a phrase very similar to Sun Tzu’s in his own work, The Life-Giving Sword: “Duplicity is the foundation of the martial arts.”
“Duplicity” in this case is hyori, literally “inside and outside,” but it also means “double-dealing,” “treachery,” and “dishonesty.” So the meaning is, perhaps, not far from that of his distant Chinese predecessor, and Munenori would certainly have studied Sun Tzu’s writings as well. As the Yagyu-ryu was one of the most important schools in Japan, and Munenori himself was the instructor to the Tokugawa shoguns, this germinal maxim was likely on the lips of many a student of the martial arts.
Musashi did not use either phrase in The Book of Five Rings, and his personality was such that he may have found the words themselves repugnant. He had a strong sense of his martial art being founded on principles, not tricks or dishonesty, and his vocabulary reflected this. In The Book of Five Rings he wrote, “The Way of the martial arts is direct and true, so it is essential that you be intent on pursuing others and subjugating them with true principles.” His choice of words like “direct,” “true,” and “true principles” reflects Musashi’s sense that the martial arts is to follow the straight and narrow. His were the “principles of life and death,” and he had no patience with trivial tricks or lading the mind with strategies.
That said, it is quite doubtful that any swordsman ever used psychology more often, or to better effect, than Miyamoto Musashi. He constantly reflected on the relationship of the opponent’s frame of mind to his own, and that of his own frame of mind to combat itself. As we have seen, the histories of his bouts give us several examples of how he used this psychology in life and death situations.
The classic example is the celebrated bout with Sasaki Kojiro at Gan-ryu Island on 13 April 1612. It will be recalled that Musashi slept well beyond the agreed time of the match, making even the proprietor of his lodging nervous. Meanwhile, Sasaki and his entourage, in formal dress, waited on the island in the hot sun and speculated about whether their opponent might have fled in fear. By the time Musashi’s boat appeared on the horizon, Sasaki was outraged that he had been made to wait for so long and in such discomfort. As his opponent’s craft drew near, Sasaki ran to meet it, angrily accusing Musashi of disrespect. Musashi met this outburst with blank silence. As if this weren’t unnerving enough, Sasaki then saw that Musashi’s weapon was not the standard wooden sword, but an oar carved into the shape of a sword, slightly longer than his own sword. Sasaki was known for the length of his sword, and with this turn of events his confidence took a further slide. Impatiently, Sasaki unsheathed his sword and dramatically flung the scabbard away, into the waves. At this, Musashi spoke for the first time: “You’ve lost, Kojiro. Only the loser will have no need for his scabbard.”
Sasaki’s frame of mind can be imagined, and the result of the ensuing contest is the stuff of legend. As the Demon of the Western Provinces lay in the sand, blood flowing from his mouth and nose, Musashi approached with care. Suddenly, the fallen man struck out with a sweep of his sword, cutting into his opponent’s hakama, but not piercing the flesh. At this point Musashi gave a final blow, crushing Sasaki’s chest and ending his life.
Musashi must have given deep thought to Sasaki’s character: to the sense of dignity that could be bruised, putting him off balance; to the pride in and perhaps dependence on the length of his sword, and the offense he would take at Musashi’s lack of a proper weapon; and to the impatience he might feel at having to wait, the way that his calm would slip away bit by bit. In the section of his Fire chapter called “Agitating Your Opponent,” he wrote: “There are many kinds of agitation. One is a feeling of danger, a second is a feeling that something is beyond your capacity and a third is a feeling of the unexpected. You should investigate this thoroughly.”
And in another section: “In my martial art . . . you bend and warp your opponent, taking the victory by twisting and contorting your opponent’s mind.”
Perhaps what he learned in this bout was expressed in the following comments. Certainly they give the reader a vivid impression of Sasaki’s last desperate strike:
You must cut him down with such vigor that he cannot recover.
There may be times when you appear to be winning on the surface, but hostility remains in your opponent’s mind. In such situations it is important that you adjust your own mind, destroy your opponent’s spirit, and make sure that he has been defeated in the very bottom of his heart.
Another series of matches in which Musashi demonstrated his understanding of the importance of psychology was, as we have seen, his fight with the Yoshioka clan in 1604. In the first two matches with Seijuro and Denshichiro, Musashi arrived late, putting his opponents off guard with feelings of resentment, offense and anger. So unsettled was Denshichiro at the defeat of his older brother that Musashi was able to quickly take the Yoshioka warrior’s own sword (a very long one) away and turn it against Denshichiro, killing him. In the final match with Matashichiro, Musashi reversed his psychological tactic and arrived early. Thus, when the large Yoshioka force arrived and began grumbling about their opponent’s likely late arrival, Musashi suddenly appeared, saying, “Did I make you wait?” As they reacted with fear and surprise, he took advantage of their disarray and cut them down one after another. Here, Musashi demonstrated his understanding of the principle of warping the opponent’s mind. In the Fire chapter, he gave this yet another dimension:
The heart of Mountains and Seas is that it is wrong to use the same tactic repeatedly during a fight between you and your opponent. Using the same tactic twice is unavoidable, but you should not use it three times. Thus, if your opponent is thinking “mountains,” attack with “seas;” and if he is thinking “seas,” attack with “mountains.” This is the heart of the Way of the martial arts.
These are only a few of the psychological insights Musashi discussed in The Book of Five Rings. He wrote further on the advantages of such tactics as making the opponent think that you are larger in stature than he is, making him flinch, convincing him that you are an expert in the martial arts (and so convincing him of his own imminent defeat), or conversely, appearing weak at first and then attacking with ferocity. All might be summed up in the short phrase toward the end of his book:
The Way [of victory] is in devising difficulties for your opponent.
Musashi had won over sixty bouts by the time he was thirty, and by his own reckoning this feat was not due to extraordinary strength, speed, or skill. As he traveled the country alone, however, he must have thought deeply about what had been in his opponents’ minds and, just as important, what had been in his own. It was this deep capacity for reflection, his natural curiosity, and his constant search for insight that set Musashi far beyond his contemporaries. This is in part why we still read his slender book today.
In addition to these principles, Musashi also discussed in great depth the importance of taking the initiative, having an impeccable understanding of the tools of the trade, being able to grasp the various kinds of rhythms used in the martial arts, having the ability to see both broadly and closely, and, above all, being able to see through the opponent’s mind but not letting him see through your own.
Musashi believed in principles, not tricks, and in s
ubstance over form and flashiness. As indicated at the beginning of this section, the principles he discovered are discussed in The Book of Five Rings both explicitly and between the lines. Informing us that he bowed in veneration to the gods and Buddhas while not invoking them for help is in itself a lesson on the principle of self-sufficiency. This in turn enjoins us to believe in the principles we make our own and in the abilities we develop from putting those principles into practice. When he wrote “Though I fought as many as sixty matches,” he was clearly addressing the necessity of real experience.
To grasp the book, one must read it thoroughly on one’s own. To quote Musashi once again:
You will not reach the essence of the martial arts by merely looking at this book. Think that what is written down here was done just for you, and do not consider simply looking at it, familiarizing yourself with it or trying to imitate it. Rather, you should consider these principles as though they were discovered from your own mind, and continually make great efforts to make them a physical part of yourself.
FINAL DAYS
By the early spring of 1645, Musashi could barely walk the pathway leading to the Reigan Cave, and climbing up to the cave racked his body with pain. In April, understanding that his life was nearly over, he wrote a polite letter to the senior retainers of the Hosokawa clan:
I have felt sick prior to this, and since the spring, both hands and feet have been difficult to arouse. I no longer have any desire for a stipend. As the last generation, Lord Tadatoshi, had a refined taste for the martial arts, I came to this province strongly hoping he would voice judgement on my style. Just as Lord Tadatoshi had almost kindly grasped the moves of the Two-Sword Style, he suddenly passed away, and the chance of attaining my long-cherished desire was completely lost. As it was my lord’s wish, I wrote down a summary of the principles of the martial arts, and presented it to him.
For what I have judged the laws of Two Swords, I have not used the old words and phrases of the Confucianists or Buddhists,7 nor have I used the old stories of the military arts. I have thought through the ways of all the arts and accomplishments together. This should be understood in accordance with the principles of the world, but it has not been in accord with the times. This is truly regrettable.
Well then, when I look back now on my own way of life, it would seem as though I lived too much to the letter of the martial arts. This is because I was taken by the true “martial arts disease.” I have pursued fame, and would seem to be leaving my name as a sort of famous person to this floating world. But now, neither hands nor feet will function, and I cannot directly teach the secrets of my style. It appears to be difficult to plan out my life any longer. It is my intention now to seclude myself in the mountains, and await my own death, even if I last but a single day. I hereby ask for your permission.
April 13
Miyamoto Musashi
Soon after sending this letter, he made his last painful climb up to the Reigan Cave to wait peacefully and alone for death.
The three retainers to whom Musashi had addressed his letter were at first willing to comply with the sick man’s wishes, and they may initially have felt too intimidated to reject his proposal. But soon they became uncomfortable with the idea of simply discarding a man who had been so respected by their late master, Tadatoshi. Moreover, there were all sorts of stories coming into Kumamoto. People who lived not far below the cave were reporting seeing lights emanating from the cave at night, and an eerie atmosphere that seemed to whistle around its entrance. No one, of course, dared to climb up and look into the cave under these circumstances, but it may have been that Musashi was practicing intense zazen, and perhaps some of the more esoteric forms of Shingon meditation. Was he communicating with the spirit of Ganryu Sasaki Kojiro?8 The cave was, after all, named for Kojiro’s spirit. No one knew, but the combination of these reports and the guilt felt by the three Hosokawa retainers resulted in some action.
The man who looked after Musashi’s affairs in his later years was Matsui (Nagaoka) Sado no kami Okinaga. Okinaga’s grandfather, Matsui Hiroyuki, had served the shogunate governments of both Ashikaga Yoshiharu and Yoshiteru. Okinaga’s father, Yasuyuki, had served as an important retainer to both Hosokawa Fujitaka and his successor, Tadaoki. Yasuyuki’s eldest son, Okiyuki, was killed in battle. It was then that his second son, Okinaga, who inherited the family headship, took Hosokawa Tadaoki’s second daughter as his wife and adopted his sixth son, Yoriyuki. Thus, their connection with the Hosokawa clan was a close one, and by the time of the fourth-generation lord, Mitsuhisa, Okinaga received the rather large stipend of thirty thousand koku and was warden of Yatsushiro Castle.
Considering these ties and the fact that Okinaga had been a disciple of Musashi’s father, it is not surprising that this particular vassal and his adopted son, Yoriyuki, were appointed to look after Musashi at this time. Knowing that the damp and isolated cave would not help Musashi’s deteriorating health, they began sending up a doctor who could attend to the swordsman and supply him with medicine when it was needed. Musashi, however, meant to meet death on his own terms and refused even these solicitous advances. Finally it was decided that Yoriyuki would have to bring Musashi back.
On a fine day at the beginning of May, Yoriyuki went out into the hills on the pretense of hawking, and dropped by the cave. There he found Musashi in such a weakened state that the old man could no longer put up any resistance. Yoriyuki knew what he had to do, and despite Musashi’s protests, “persuaded” him to come home.
It is difficult to imagine the feelings of these two men that day—one, the independent old swordsman who had always lived on his own terms, and the other, his young disciple and a relative of the two men who had so helped Musashi in his career—stumbling down the mountain in late spring. The young man carried the older on his back at least part of the way. The cherry blossoms, symbol of the warrior in Japan, had already fallen, and the new, light green leaves were everywhere. The sun in Kyushu would have been quite warm by May, but Yoriyuki did not falter. Soon Musashi was lying on his futon at his residence on the grounds of the old Chiba Castle, made as comfortable as possible by his disciples Terao Kumanosuke and Nakanishi Magonosuke.
On May 12, Musashi called his disciples into his room for his last formal instructions. First he presented his swords as a memento to Okinaga Yoriyuki. To his favorite disciple, Terao Katsunobu, he gave the work he had just completed, The Book of Five Rings; to Katsunobu’s brother, Kumanosuke, The Thirty-five Articles of the Martial Arts. After dividing up his possessions and putting his affairs in order, he picked up the brush for the last time and wrote out the heart of his philosophy in one short manuscript. Musashi gave this the title of “The Way of Walking Alone,” which could alternatively be translated as “The Way of Independence.” The twenty-one maxims read like a bare-bones outline of Musashi’s life, both historical and spiritual.9
Do not turn your back on the various Ways of this world.
Do not scheme for physical pleasure.
Do not intend to rely on anything.
Consider yourself lightly; consider the world deeply.
Do not ever think in acquisitive terms.
Do not regret things about your own personal life.
Do not envy another’s good or evil.
Do not lament parting on any road whatsoever.
Do not complain or feel bitterly about yourself or others.
Have no heart for approaching the path of love.
Do not have preferences.
Do not harbor hopes for your own personal home.
Do not have a liking for delicious food for yourself.
Do not carry antiques handed down from generation to generation.
Do not fast so that it affects you physically.
While military equipment is another matter, do not be fond of material things.
While on the Way, do not begrudge death.
Do not be intent on possessing valuables or a fief in old age.
Respect the gods and Buddhas, but do not rely on them.
Though you give up your life, do not give up your honor.
Never depart from the Way of the Martial Arts.
On 19 May 1645, Musashi died at his residence on the grounds of the old Chiba Castle. He was sixty-two years old. In accordance with his last request, his body was dressed in armor and helmet, provided with the six martial accoutrements, and placed in the coffin. According to the promise made beforehand, he was buried in Handa-gun, 5-cho, Tenaga Yuge Village,10 with Abbot Shunzan of the Taishoji temple as officiating priest. When the abbot had finished his address to the departing spirit, a single crack of thunder rang from the clear sky. Musashi’s grave marker remains to this day.
Others closely connected with Musashi were not slow to follow. In December of the same year, both Hosokawa Tadaoki and the priest Takuan passed away. In March of the following year, Yagyu Munenori died in Edo. In January of 1650, Yagyu Hyogonosuke passed on. In 1654, Musashi’s adopted son Miyamoto Iori, now a retainer of great prestige to the Ogasawara clan at Kokura, raised a stone monument to Musashi at Mount Tamuke. Abbot Shunzan wrote the script. In 1678, Iori himself passed away at the age of sixty-six.
Besides the disciples mentioned in these pages, other men known to have studied under Musashi were Furuhashi Sozaemon, Ishikawa Chikara, Aoki Joemon, Takemura Yoemon, and Matsui Munesato. All were excellent swordsmen. Terao Katsunobu, being his senior disciple and having inherited The Book of Five Rings, was in a sense the true heir of Musashi’s lineage. His best student, however, was said to have been Terao Kumanosuke, and on one occasion Musashi stated:
I’ve traveled around the more than sixty provinces of this country and have taught those willing to learn, but I’ve yet to have another disciple like Kumanosuke. I’ve taught this style without holding back on the smallest secret. Among my many disciples, however, I have taught the Way of Manifesting One’s True Mind to Kumanosuke alone.
The Lone Samurai Page 16
