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| Fudo Myoo, the "Patron Saint" of Many Japanese swordsmen. |
Some History and Stories from the “Warrior Saints” of the Martial Ways
Looking back on my life, I often think of my first loves as a child. Without a doubt, the first thing that I fell in love with was cinema. In the ‘70s, my dad worked as a film critic for a local newspaper, so he saw everything that came out at the theaters—not as many movies were released back then—and often took me along with him if he thought it was something I would enjoy, sometimes for early screenings before the film was actually released. I have the fondest memories of the drive-in movie theater only a block away from our house in the Ozark mountains of Farmington, Arkansas. I can recall seeing Close Encounters of the Third Kind and Star Wars in 1977 there as if it was yesterday, along with every single Roger Moore led James Bond film to hit the screen. It may be hated by critics, but Moonraker was my favorite. Hey, I was 6—what can I say? And when my entire family went to see Raiders of the Lost Ark in ‘81, we felt as if we had been on a roller coaster ride by the end.
My father had a love for foreign cinema, as well, and the Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa in particular. In 1983, I’m pretty sure my household was the first one that I knew of that owned a video cassette player. Dad ordered Kurosawa films, which I watched with delight—Seven Samurai, Yojimbo, and Sanjuro being my favorites. Around that same year, I began training at a traditional Okinawan Karate dojo when we moved to Alabama. Martial arts quickly became my true love, and they remain so to this day, along, of course, with lifting.
In the early ‘80s, my love for both cinema and martial arts came together, however, with Saturday morning's “Kung Fu Theater.” If you’re a Gen-Xer, you may remember it well. Kung Fu Theater showed mainly Shaw Brothers movies. Shaw Brothers had the largest movie studio in the world at the time, with glorious set designs. Their films were filled with well-choreographed fight scenes and badly dubbed English, always in a thick British accent. My dad, it must be mentioned, did not understand my love for them. I suppose he thought they were nothing but fight-filled movies with little to no story, or convoluted plots, and bad acting—the god-awful dubbing didn’t help. Once he decided to watch Saturday’s matinee showing with me. The film was Ten Tigers of Kwangtung. He was dismayed, and perhaps slightly appalled, when the film ended with one of the main baddies having his head kicked off via a well-executed flying side kick. I, on the other hand, was hooked!
Shaw Brothers movies, and other Hong Kong films of the time, often revolved around the Shaolin Temple or fighters from Shaolin. I’m pretty sure they influenced my eventual love of Chan (Zen in Japanese) and the philosophical cum religious practices within martial arts as a whole. There were always Shaolin monks on screen who could kick ass and take names, but then hold their hands together in prayer—gigantic mala beads wrapped around their wrists—and declare “Buddha, bless you.” (I have even seen some movies with the translation as “God, bless you,” probably to make it more palatable for Western Christians who might be watching.) However, if you watch one of those many films in the original Cantonese—the only way that I watch them now—you will realize that phrase is not what the monks are saying. Instead, the words are “Namo Amituofo.” Namo signifies “name” or “to take refuge in” or “to call upon.” And Amituofo is a reference to the Buddha Amitabha (Amida in Japanese; the more common way it’s typically heard in the West) and literally translates to “infinite life” or “infinite light.” So, Namo Aituofo is a call from the heart to “turn around and rely upon the infinite” or “to take refuge in the infinite light and infinite life,” or something such as that.
The Buddha Amitabha and the chant Namo Amituofo, therefore, has nothing to do with the historical Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, but, rather, the Bodhisattva Dharmakara, who eventually became Amitabha through countless eons of practice. And he is just one of a myriad of Bodhisattvas, cosmic Buddhas, and other deities that have been revered and relied upon by countless martial practitioners throughout the centuries, in China, and then in Korea, Vietnam, and Japan. For the remainder of this essay, we will look at a few of the more influential of these bodhisattvas, particularly ones within the traditional Japanese martial ways, or the Budo, to use the more precise term.
In Japanese Budo, probably the most revered deity of veneration is Fudo Myoo (seen at the beginning of the post), the wrathful, sword-wielding manifestation of the Bodhisattva Manjushri. Although relatively little known—or, at least, not very popular—within India, Tibet, or even China, Fudo Myoo flourished as an object of worship in Japan. He is known as Acala in Sanskrit, meaning “immovable” or “the immovable lord,” and was seen as a dharmapala, or “protector of the Dharma.” Because of his wrathful, vengeful expression, he became the de-facto “patron saint” of Japanese swordsmen.
One of my favorite samurai, Yamaoka Tesshu (1836-1888), wrote this inscription on a piece of calligraphy that he brushed only 4 months before his death of stomach cancer at age 52. It gives you some insight into the high respect that samurai had for Fudo Myoo:
Once during an assembly of Buddha’s followers, Fudo appeared. This Fudo was tremendously powerful: great compassion was evident in his pale dark complexion, great stability was obvious as he assumed the Diamond Seat, and great wisdom was manifest in the flames surrounding him. Brandishing a sword of insight he cut through the three poisons of greed, anger, and delusion; his samadhi-rope bound the enemies of Buddhism. Formless like the empty space of the Dharma Body, Fudo settles nowhere but lives in the heart of sentient beings. Devoted servant of all, he encourages the well-being and ultimate salvation of sentient beings. When the entire assembly heard this teaching they joyously believed and received it.*
Interestingly enough, Tesshu, unlike most “sword saints” of Japan, did not take Fudo Myoo as his personal patron. For that, he relied upon Kannon Bodhisattva (Guanyin or Kuan Yin in Chinese), the Japanese manifestation of Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion, and often translated in English as the "Goddess of Mercy.” This, perhaps, tells you something of Tesshu’s character. Although a fierce warrior, Tesshu never killed a single person in battle, and, in his later years, after he had attained enlightenment, was said to be the embodiment of compassion itself. To give you a glimpse of his change, when he was younger, he would sit in zazen late into the night. He lived in a ragged, rundown house with his newly-wedded wife, and the house was filled with mice. Once he began to sit zazen, however, the mice would leave the house and not a sound could be heard from them. He even discovered that if he glanced at the ceiling during zazen, mice would fall dead through cracks. When his wife asked him about this oddity, Tesshu supposedly said, “I guess my zazen is only good for rat poison.” You could call this phase of Tesshu’s life his “Fudo” practice. However, once he was older, after his enlightenment, when he would paint calligraphic pieces portraying Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, mice would run freely over his lap and on his shoulder. He had become a living embodiment of Kannon.
Yamaoka Tesshu in his youth.
Kannon is probably also the most worshiped and revered of all Bodhisattvas throughout the entirety of Asia, not just China, Japan, Vietnam, and Korea, where Mahayana has flourished, but also in the Theravada countries of Burma, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Sri Lanka. She is also the “patron saint” of the Shaolin Temple (which we will look at shortly).
Not surprisingly, the great Budo master of the 20th century, and founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, did not take Fudo Myoo as his patron saint, but, rather, revered Kannon Bodhisattva instead. For one, Ueshiba, also known as O-Sensei, wasn’t Buddhist but was a follower of one of the more prominent Japanese “new religions,” Oomoto-Kyu, a universalist religion that saw all religions as valid—it has much in common with what we might call “New Age” or perhaps “New Thought” in the West than it does Buddhism or Zen, in addition to being an offshoot of Shinto. He once wrote, “I would like to see all people bring about a change in themselves to become like the Bodhisattva Kannon (Avalokitesvara). People should strive to become like a Saisho Nyorai (an honorary title for a most superior and holy person) who can change into any form for the salvation of all living things.”**
One of the most common sights in Japan, standing guard over temples and dojos, are the Nio guardians, or “Benevolent Kings,” also known as Kongo Rikishi or “Varja-wielding warriors,” they represent the physical strength and power needed to protect others, making them obvious subjects of veneration for numerous budoka down through the centuries. Like almost all deities of Budo, apart from those that come from Shinto, Japan’s indigenous religion, they have their origin in India. In this case, they evolved from the deity Vajrapani, who protected the historical Buddha Shakyamuni, Siddhartha Gautama. They also came to symbolize the seed syllable Aum, and, in English, are perhaps best translated as the “Alpha and Omega,” the beginning and end of all cosmic Dharmas.
The famous Zen monk and samurai Shuzuki Shosan advocated a practice that he termed “Nio Zen” where the budoka adopted the Nio guardians’ fierce expressions and wide stances in training to develop strength, cultivate power, and harness Ki energy, along with developing the courage needed in battle. Suzuki described his practice as follows: “The Niō (Vajrapani) is a menacing God. He wields the kongōsho (vajra) and he can crush your enemies. Depend on him, pray to him that he will protect you as he protects the Buddha. He vibrates with energy and spiritual power which you can absorb from him in times of need."***
So far we have discussed various “mythic” Bodhisattvas, but now let’s turn to history. Before we continue with that, however, let me add that, in the West, we seem to think of “myth” as something that is “not true” or is a “false view,” but that is not the way that they are seen in the East, nor is it a view common to any traditional religion, East or West. The idea of a myth as being “false” is, instead, a very modern, “post Enlightenment” viewpoint that is concerned with the historical-critical method. It is better to think of a myth as something more true than true or, perhaps, truer than truth itself. It uses symbol and myth to point to an Absolute truth of the Divine that simply can’t be expressed through mere “conventional” words and understanding. That is the philosophical “stance” that should be taken with the Bodhisattvas I have covered until this point. Now, having said that, let’s look at an actual historical person to give us a sense of what we might strive for in our own Budo practice.
There are many important figures throughout the history of the martial ways. I’m not sure if you could pick one as the most important, but if you were to take some sort of “straw poll” of all martial artists, there’s a good chance that Bodhidharma, supposed creator of Shaolin martial arts, would take the cake at number one. I write “supposed” because much of what we know, or think we know, about Bodhidharma is legend, or “semi-legend.” He lived in either the 5th or 6th century AD, and is credited with not just creating Shaolin kung-fu, but with transmitting Chan (Zen) to China and is, therefore, considered the 1st patriarch of Zen. He was, no doubt, a real, living person, but I would argue that almost everything we know of him is legend and “myth,” to use that term in its modern sense as I mentioned above. The only things we can say for sure is that he traveled to China from India and established Zen at Shaolin, along with creating some kind of system of physical movement that, at a later date, became Shaolin kung-fu as we think of it today. He was, according to the scant historical sources, probably from either Persia or southern India. The picture seen below is from a woodblock print by the Japanese artist Yoshitoshi from 1887.
My favorite story of Bodhidharma is also the first koan of the “Blue Cliff Record,” a collection of Chan/Zen Buddhist koans originally compiled in the Song dynasty in China, circa 1125. In it, Bodhidharma arrives, “blue eyed barbarian” that he is, at the court of emperor Wu of Liang in 527. The emperor was a devoted Buddhist and a fervent patron of the religion, helping to establish many monasteries and donating much of his money to Buddhist causes, temples, relics, pagodas, and the copying of various sutras. One translation of their encounter at the court goes like this:
Emperor Wu asked the great master Bodhidharma, “What is the main point of this holy teaching?”
“Vast emptiness, nothing holy,” said Bodhidharma.
“Who are you, standing in front of me?” asked the emperor.
“I do not know,” said Bodhidharma.
The emperor didn’t understand. Bodhidharma crossed the Yangtze River and went to the kingdom of Wei.
Later, the emperor raised this matter with his advisor, Duke Zhi. The advisor asked, “Your Majesty, do you know who that sage was?”
“No I don’t,” said the emperor.
“That was Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion, carrying the seal of the Buddha’s heart and mind.”
The emperor felt a sudden regret and said, “Send a messenger to call him back.”
Duke Zhi told him, “Your majesty, even if everyone in the kingdom went after him he wouldn’t return.”*^
For the sake of our discussion here, I will leave aside any commentary on the meaning of the koan itself. If you find it interesting, or better yet, befuddling, then I would encourage you to study it and koans in general. Depending on your temperament, koan study may bring you joy and a sense of wonder, ease, and peace. For this essay, I simply want to bring up the fact that, even at that time in China, real persons were considered to be embodiments of Bodhisattvas. Some were even seen as actual incarnations, such as the Dalai Lama, who is thought to be, from the Tibetan view, the current physical incarnation of Kannon. However, from the Zen, and therefore Budo, standpoint, a person should strive to embody the characteristics of Bodhisattvas. Perhaps, to use Western philosophical terminology, it's not an ontological reality but, rather, an epistemological one.
In Mahayana Buddhism, all practitioners are expected to take the “Bodhisattva vows,” to see themselves as Bodhisattvas and to work for the salvation of the entire world. Keeping the Bodhisattva ideal in mind, the martial artist cultivates his Way not purely for selfish reasons—to become a better fighter, to win tournaments, to inflate his ego, etc.—but, to put it plainly and simply, to help others. A skilled martial practitioner can not only protect himself if need be, but he can protect his family or anyone who is in need of help. He should also practice so that he is defeating his ego, not inflating it. Unfortunately, of course, many who take up the martial arts do so simply to be a “tough guy” and give no thought to a higher purpose. When this happens, Budo loses its true meaning, and also gives no lasting peace and joy to the practitioner. As one of my senseis used to say, “martial arts without spirituality and philosophy is nothing more than brutality.”
In closing, here are some practical suggestions for your Budo training so that you might be capable of actually applying this information, and not just reading it from a position of historical curiosity.
First, strive to, simply enough, be a good person. Yes, it really is that simple. If you need something to guide you, then consider something such as the “5 precepts” of Buddhism, which are: 1.Refrain from Killing/Harming Living Beings: Commitment to non-violence and respect for all life. 2.Refrain from Stealing: Avoiding taking things not freely given; promoting generosity and honesty. 3.Refrain from Sexual Misconduct: Avoiding sexual actions that cause harm to oneself or others. 4.Refrain from False Speech: Avoiding lying, gossiping, or cruel speech in favor of honest, compassionate communication. 5.Refrain from Intoxicants: Avoiding substances that cloud the mind and cause heedlessness or loss of awareness.* There is nothing “Buddhist” about these precepts but should be practiced by all budokas of any religion or atheistic or agnostic ones.
Second, apply “don’t-know mind” while training and then, throughout your daily life. This is the “mind” that the koan above alludes to. It is the point of mushin often discussed in Budo texts and throughout traditional dojos across the globe. Practice sincerely and with determination but do not over-think everything, even being a good person or striving to embody the qualities of the Bodhisattva. Just train. Just do it. Just be. In time, don’t-know mind will “reveal” itself and the Bodhisattvas of Budo will become your reality.
I hope you enjoyed this essay. I enjoyed writing it. I often figure—and I think this is good advice for any aspiring writers out there—that if you enjoy writing whatever it is that you wish to write, others will enjoy reading it. At some point, I hope to put all of my writings into a book on “Budo Philosophy.” I probably have enough now to compile one, but I am currently focusing on other books.
If you would like to support my work, then please consider purchasing one of my books. My most recent book on Bill Starr is proving popular, and soon I should have my next book on “old school muscle building methods” ready for the publisher. You can find more information on all of my books at the My Books page.
If you want further reading on Budo, here are some similar essays:
Shoshin, Mushin, and the “Minds” of Budo
The Real Connection Between Zen and the Martial Arts
The Budo Zen Way: Zazen and the Budoka
As always, if you have any questions or comments about this essay or would like to offer some of your own insights on Budo training, please leave them in the “comments” section below. If you want a private response to any questions you might have, you can also send me an email. I usually get around to answering my emails in a day or two.
Sources
*As quoted in the book The Sword of No Sword: The Life of the Master Warrior Tesshu by John Stevens, Shambhala Publications, 2013
**from “Memoirs of Morihei Ueshiba” at aikidonotebook.com
***from the Wikipedia page “Nio (Buddhism)”
*^from Bring Me The Rhinoceros and Other Zen Koans to Bring You Joy by John Tarrant, Harmony Books, 2004
*Lion’s Roar website, “The 5 Precepts”
Interesting timing with this article, I just recently watched the Shaw Brothers movie, "Killer Constable" which was a very fun wuxia flick, those old HK movies get especially brutal and flashy. Way before I ever lifted one of my older relatives was a Bruce Lee fan, really a fan of Asian martial arts in general iirc, and while I didn't practise it, it gave physical training this mysterious, attractive quality from a young age. Brutal and basic work, Eastern wisdom traditions, willpower, mental strength, composure - that was the swirl of imagery in my mind. I suppose that started the long domino chain that eventually led to me to western boxing and then lifting weights.
ReplyDeleteAlso as an aside : The 5 precepts in and of themselves I have found to be a very interesting practise when you cleave to them in absolute terms. No lying in any circumstances so you have to be creative and attentive in the ways in which you transmit information, to make sure it can't be abused by, say, a possible hostile party, this is the one that really requires you to be 'switched on' and honest. Direct quote from Sutta MN 80 : "Let an observant person come—one who is not fraudulent, not deceitful, one of an honest nature. I instruct him. I teach him the Dhamma"
, all the precepts are important for maintaining a clear conscience and general integrity of character, but the commitment to truth, I believe, might be the foremost among equals. The quality which brings forth all the other great virtuous ones, in any human being of any religious tradition or philosophical leaning.
I haven't seen Killer Constable in ages. If I remember it correctly, I did enjoy it, but I always liked everything starring Chen Kwan Tai. I'm pretty sure that my first time WATCHING any kind of physical training was in a Shaw Brothers film. Although I appreciated wuxia films more as I got older - and literature, as well, particularly the novels of Jin Yong - I liked the "straight up" kung-fu films as a kid. From a training sequence perspective, you couldn't beat (and still can't) the movies of Lau Kar-Leung (sometimes spelled Liu Chia-Liang if they used the Wade-Giles system of translation rather than the more phonetic, and accurate, pinyin), often starring his adopted brother Gordon Lau. The 36 Chambers of Shaolin hooked me, and many a young kid in the early '80s, with its dramatic training sequences at the Shaolin Temple. Clan of the White Lotus and Executioners from Shaolin were a couple of my other favorites. Lau Kar-Leung was interesting since he was a bona-fide master of Hung Gar kung-fu master in addition to being a director and fight choreographer. I would argue the greatest fight scenes ever put on film are, perhaps, the ones in Drunken Master 2 (aka Legend of the Drunken Master for English-speaking audiences), all choregraphed by Lau, except for the final one since he and Jackie Chan didn't get along and he walked off the set before the film's completion. Then there are the movies of Chang Cheh, such as his most famous, The 5 Deadly Venoms. Some of his films are, easily, the most over-the-top and bloodiest of the era. He directed the aforementioned 10 Tigers of Kwangtung, for instance. As a kid, I particularly liked Lo Mang's physique. He was often called the "Chinese Hercules" for a reason, and, man, did I want his physique. I'm pretty sure that's what set me on my pursuit of physical perfection from a young age.
DeleteSorry, may have gotten off on a tangent there, but I suppose my love for SB films is obvious. On a more serious note, I think you are correct about "cleaving" to the precepts in absolutist terms. It's harder than most think. I have sucked at it a LOT throughout my life, which is probably the simplest reason for my reliance on "Other Power" as opposed to the "self-power" of Theravada. I am slowly, however, over the last year making my way through the ENTIRETY of the Majjhima Nikaya, using the 5-volume "Handful of Leaves" anthology translated by Thanissaro Bhikkhu. My interest might be too much of an intellectual curiosity, rather than coming from a "practice" standpoint. Anyway, I find if quite fascinating, and I also think too many Mahayana practitioners "discount" it, arguing that we can't really know what the Buddha ACTUALLY taught, and, therefore, Mahayana sutras are just as "valid." I don't think there is much doubt, from a historical vantage point, that the Theravada suttas are the actual words of the historical Buddha. Bhante Sujato has a book - I can't think of it off the top of my head - that makes a pretty hard-to-discount argument for that being the case. I would recommend it if you can find it. And that's coming from someone who considers himself a Christian Zen budoka, so I suppose I should "disagree" with my own view. But I don't. Now, whether what the Buddha taught was ontologically "true" is another debate entirely, but I think Theravadans should be comfortable in their reliance upon their suttas as the Buddha's words. And as a lover of Zen, I'm fine with the fact that what I practice is an amalgamation of Buddhism and Taoism and not historically accurate - I like koans, for instance, for a myriad of other reasons.
Thanks a lot for the comment. You and I might be the only ones who read my blog who are actually interested in this stuff, but I find it fascinating and endlessly delightful.
It's rare to find your combo of very strong and experienced lifter who is also well read on the Eastern wisdom traditions, always appreciate chatting with you C.S., and posts like these.
DeleteThanks for the compliment. I'm a bit of an autodidact on subjects that most people in the world could probably care less about - you know, unless you read this blog. But, hey, I don't know why more folks in the world aren't interested in wisdom traditions, ancient philosophy, lifting, and esoteric martial arts wisdom, along with '70s and '80s kung-fu movies, of course. But I guess I fill a weird, slightly odd niche for those who DO find all of this stuff intriguing.
DeleteI've always tried to be an integralist - hence, the name of the blog. Even if it's only within my own interior being, I try to integrate all of my interests together into a cohesive, holistic, and unified whole. If I had the money - and the additional time; I probably have my foot in the door of too many interests, and it doesn't allow me to focus on one thing above all others - I would open an "integral dojo" that teaches traditional Japanese martial arts, along with western "arts" such as boxing and savate, in addition to philosophy, meditation, and, of course, lifting. I would envision it being closer to a boxing gym in appearance and set-up than a modern American karate dojo, but one that would also teach meditation classes and give talks/classes on integral philosophy.
Speaking of boxing, since that is one of your personal interests, I am reminded of the author Jay Gluck, who, in his book Zen Combat, wrote that there is no fundamental difference - from a physical and training standpoint - between western and eastern fighting arts. Rather, it is, a matter of "awareness and approach." The eastern "fighter" sees his art as part of a unified whole, and shouldn't be separated from the spiritual, the philosophical, and even the scientific. But there is no reason that the occidental CAN'T take the same approach in a western fighting art. Unfortunately, when Eastern fighting arts come to America, too many times it is only the physical aspect that is taught, and the philosophical/spiritual is discarded - there isn't much, or any, difference between the Western boxer and the MMA fighter, for instance. So, in your own personal pursuit - and I have a good feeling this is something you already do - integrate together your boxing, bodybuilding training, and Theravada meditation practice into ONE, instead of keeping them distinctly separate, different parts of your life.
My training - both lifting and budo - somehow has a cosmic dimension to it, and, therefore, must be integrated into my Zen and my Christianity. It is almost a koan for me to solve. Lifting, budo, the "sound of one hand," and Christ are somehow, someway, ONE undifferentiated whole. How? The answer can't be explained, of course. It has more in common with my Original Face before my father and mother were born.
That 'integral' stance really leads to fruitful insights across all the areas you're interested in, for example when you do bodybuilding training for a while and realize how differently you have to train as an advanced lifter, how much patience is required, how much sheer consistency is required and then that transfers to skills such as meditation as well, how to adjust training based on energy levels and connective tissue feeling instinctively etc. What kind of meditation themes are suitable for me today, perhaps I'd like a more gladdening contemplation of the Buddha's qualities before focusing on the breath, or perhaps I need a stern reminder about death and old age if I've been wrapped up in particularly frivolous mental worlds that day. Stuff like that.
DeleteThe historical Buddha was a very practical man, on account of being descended from warrior aristocracy, and was educated in the martial ways as well, evident in the many references to the ways in which a warrior conducts himself or references to archery technique etc., so even he took took an 'integral' stance in terms of blending the lessons learnt from honing a physical skill and applying it to the task of training the mind.
There's also insights from combat sports that lead into lifting, the most decorated boxers in history didn't have a cookie cutter style they all adhered to, it was one that fit their physiology and psychology. Short, stocky sluggers being an archetype, more classy, fancy footwork boxer-puncher guys like current reigning unified heavyweight champion, Oleksandr Usyk for example. You'll have to do a similiar thing in lifting and find your style that works, and that's a very personal thing. These days I'm moreso just a fan of boxing, even though I do hit the heavy bag on occassion, mostly since I tend to pick up particular injuries if I'm going extremely hard in both disciplines. Especially since I seem to be a lifter that requires ALOT of frequency and ALOT of sets to get stronger. (I've been doing a 4x6 approach on DB bench, with instinctive machine pec fly work 3x a week as a example, and that works out to about 24 'tough' sets for chest a week, and now I'm handling dumbbells for 4x6 that I could only do a failure set of 7RM a month prior. I'm sold on increasing the workload by stay shying of failure and getting more heavy touches.)