The Way of Balance

 

Cultivating Equanimity in Budo and Zen

The crane, symbol of balance, of equanimity, of the Tao.

Equanimity is one of the most important things we can learn from both budo and Zen.  Unfortunately, when we think of equanimity—if we even think of it at all—for too many budoka the first word that comes to mind is boring.  When I was a teenager, for instance, and had a love for budo that bordered on the obsessive, I didn’t want to hear about equanimity.  But—as the saying goes—I really do wish I knew then what I know now.  With 40 years of training under my belt, I know now that cultivating equanimity would have helped all aspects of my budo training (and my life outside of it).

There is no reason for equanimity to be considered “dull” in any way.  Equanimity, in Zen, is considered one of the four divine abodes, along with love, compassion, and joy.  This means that the word should engender the same emotions and feelings as the other three.  The Buddha, as recorded in the early Pali suttas, said a mind filled with equanimity is “abundant, exalted, immeasurable, without hostility, and without ill-will.”

The English word “equanimity” when used in both budo and Zen comes from their influence from Buddhism, and in the suttas, “equanimity” is the oft-used translation of two different Pali words, upekkha and tatramajjhattata.  For the most part, upekkha is the more commonly used of the two; it means “to look over.”  It is the equanimity that arises when we simply observe things.  Upekkha may best be understood as “seeing with understanding.”

Tatramajjhattata is a compound word that is much more difficult to translate due to its, well, compound nature.  According to Buddhist teacher Gil Fronsdale, the word might best be understood as “to stand in the middle of things.”  This form of equanimity, of being in the middle, is about remaining centered and balanced even in the midst of flame and fire raging all around.  You can, of course, see its application in budo, but we should still keep both words—and both of their uses to what equanimity truly means—in mind when cultivating this virtue.

Without practicing equanimity—which should eventually lead to simply being equanimous—you are more likely to be cultivating your ego rather than practicing true budo.  And in the dojo, the best way to cultivate equanimity is through the practice of non-attachment.  (This is also where another budo concept I have written about recently, shoshin, or “beginner’s mind” can help.)

When you first take up budo practice, you’re not really “attached” to anything in budo, aside from any beliefs you have about what you hope to gain from the practice, and that, of course, will vary depending on the age you take it up.  But as you progress, you will begin to have certain techniques or training methods that you prefer, and this preference can lead to attachment.  For the most part, these preferences don’t hold us back, but they certainly can, especially if you stop to practice some of the very techniques that you need to focus on due to weak points.  (And we all have weak points.)

Outside of the dojo, your attachments—especially to any loved ones, friends, or pets that are especially close to you—can affect your training in the dojo.  Although you need to cultivate equanimity throughout all of your life, you have to start somewhere.  And there is no better place than the dojo.   You can begin by letting go of concerns and worries about these various loved ones when you enter the dojo.  Approach your training in an almost sacred way by telling yourself that once you enter the training hall, put on your gi, and tie your belt to your waist, you will give your all to your training, and this includes letting go of any worries or fears about your life outside of training, and doing your best to live—and, therefore, train—completely in the now.

As you practice this cultivation of nowness, you may find that you can extend it to your daily life when you’re not training incredibly hard or sitting very attentively.  This is when your training of cultivating equanimity—as it is with all good training—begins to bear fruit in other ways.  Although you may not be completely equanimous, that’s okay.  It isn’t something that you should force.  But you should find yourself noticing your lack of equanimity, how you can be tossed around emotionally by your thoughts and your actions if you don’t pay attention to them.  As humans, we can easily get “worked up” over pleasant objects, or people, or various other things that entice us to sensory pleasures.  We tend to oscillate between that and becoming agitated by other people or objects we don’t like, undesirable situations, or just other “views” that we don’t agree with.  And if we lack balance—as too many people do in our modern world—then we will find ourselves constantly swept into extremes of craving sensory pleasures and becoming upset over our aversions.

Make no mistake about it—and this is definitely an area where modern man struggles—excitement is not happiness.  If you fail to cultivate equanimity, then you will never know the true joy that comes from a peaceful, tranquil, undisturbed mind.