The Way of the Modern Ronin, Part 21

 Essays and Thoughts on The Dokkodo
Part 21
You May Abandon Your Body But Preserve Your Honor

"Hotei watches a cockfight."  Painting by Miyamato Musashi (courtesy Wikimedia)

"All things have an inner divine essence and an outer marvelous function.  The essence of a tree is manifested in its wonderful blossoms and abundant foliage.  The essence of tree could not be perceived if there were no blossoms and leaves.  Human beings have an inner divine essence that cannot be seen but is manifested as the marvelous techniques of budo."

     ~Heiho Jikansho (of the Kajima Shinto School)

 We are nearing the end of Musashi's final master-work, and Musashi is going to make sure that he leaves no stone unturned.  Knowing that he will die soon, his Dokkodo takes on the sense of urgency he feels one needs in order to practice the way.

Most translations of this precept are essentially the same.  William Scott Wilson, who you can typically count on to have a slightly different translation (compared to other translators), has this as, "Though you give up your life, do not give up your honor."  The only slightly different translation I could find was from John Stevens in his book Budo Secrets: Teachings of the Martial Arts Masters who translates it as, "Abandon self-interest, and do not seek fame or fortune."  Using both my chosen translation and Stevens's, let's unpack this one a little further.

"You may abandon your body..."  At the start, Musashi is talking about life, about everything that makes us that which we, at the very least, think we are, that which we believe ourselves to be.  "You may abandon your body" could possibly be translated as something such as, "you may let go of your ego" or "you must abandon your ego, that which you are not" because - ultimately, at least - that is exactly what Musashi is getting at in this musing.  Which is also the reason that - although they may look quite different at the outset - "you may abandon your body" is essentially the same as "abandon self-interest."  Self and body are, for our ego, one and the same thing.  We take our body - just as we take our mind - to be our "self" when that couldn't be the furthest thing from the truth.  (Zen also doesn't say - and this must be stressed here - that you are "not" your body.  But your body is only an aspect of your Real Self - the same as your "self" and "mind" are aspects.)

The calligraphic painting "Hotei watches a cockfight" at the top of this post was painted by Musashi at an unknown date, but since he didn't take up painting - it would appear - until later in his life, we can assume that it also represents some of his insights into both Budo and Zen.  Aikido master, and Zen priest, John Stevens says this about the painting:  "The vagabond Zen monk Hotei is a symbol of perfect freedom.  Here, Hotei observes, with bemused detachment, two gamecocks in a tense confrontation.  The feathers of the two gamecocks bristle with energy as they size up each other, looking for a chance to attack.  Hotei will not intervene, for it is in the nature of gamecocks to fight, but he himself will never squabble over petty matters such as possessions, status, or perceived insults."  Simple as this paining may be, I think Stevens is correct.  (At the very least, he's not wrong.)  And there is something about this painting - the nature of Hotei, the nature of the gamecocks - that also points toward this particular musing.  Because the nature of both "abandoning body" and "preserving honor" (or, using Stevens's translation, "to not seek fame or fortune") are one in the same, since both are required to follow the Way.  It is the same with the painting.  The gamecocks are doing what it is their nature to do, and Hotei is doing what is in his nature, both of which are aspects of the same Dharma.

The nature of Do, the Tao, the Great Way requires one to be able to let go when the time comes, even if that very letting go is toward one's own life.  It also requires that one doesn't cling to honor, to fame, to status, because all of these things also take one away from true budo.  You may learn to be a "great warrior" or a "winner of the battlefield," but you won't be practicing budo if you cling to life, and to all of its trivialities without looking into the deep of things, and seeing that true budo entails mastery of mind and body.  To master mind and body means knowing when it is time to let go - and also when it is not time.  You may abandon your body doesn't mean that you should abandon it.  In fact, life is precious, and it should be loved and enjoyed, and it should be used so that you might plumb the depths of what it means to be born, and what it means to die.  But if the time comes when you must abandon your body, then so be it.

Musashi did not seek out death, but, rather, in confronting death, he sought to find the answers to life, which he did find, at least according to his satisfaction.  Which is all any of us can really hope for - to do our very best to live up to the ideals we have set before ourselves, and to pursue those ideals with as much integrity, honesty, humility, and introspection as those ideals demand.  But, of course, if we are to live up to those ideals, then we need something to practice with, something that can be used to hone our mind, and to align our body with both mind and spirit.  This is where - if you are to take this path seriously - we come to finally practice true Budo.  For as budokas, we have taken up this art so that we can find a way to live our inner life through Budo.  By saying this, of course, also means that you don't have to take the route of Budo as your Way.  There are other paths, other Dos.  But if you are going to take up Budo, then take it up wholeheartedly, completely, as both outer and inner path.