The story of a swordsman

1. The story

(Excerpted from Sand and Pebbles (Góp Nhặt Cát Đá), by the Zen master Muju, Vietnamese translation by Đỗ Đình Đồng)

"Matajuro Yagyu was the son of a famous Japanese swordsman. His father, believing that his son's skill was too ordinary for there to be any hope of his becoming a master, refused to teach him. So Matajuro went to Mount Futara and found another famous swordsman there, Banzo. Banzo confirmed the judgement of his father. Banzo said:

"You want me to teach you swordsmanship, don't you? You are not qualified to learn the sword." Matajuro persisted in asking:

"But if I train diligently, how many years will it take me to become a master swordsman?"

Banzo replied: "The rest of your life."

Matajuro explained:

"I cannot wait that long. I will go through any hardship if you teach me. If I devote myself to being your servant, how long will it take?"

Banzo relented slightly: "Oh, perhaps ten years."

Matajuro went on to ask:

"My father is old and I must soon look after him. If I train even more diligently, how long will it take?"

Banzo replied, "Oh, perhaps thirty years."

Matajuro asked:

"Why is that? First you said ten years, now thirty. I will go through any hardship to master the sword in the shortest possible time."

Banzo replied:

"Very well, on condition that you stay here with me for seven years. A man in such a hurry to get results as you are seldom learns quickly."

At last, Matajuro understood that he was being rebuked for his lack of patience. He cried out:

"All right. I agree."

Matajuro never heard a single word about swordsmanship and never touched a sword. Matajuro cooked for his master, washed the dishes, made the bed, swept the yard and the house, and tended the garden, and not one word was said about swordsmanship.

Three years passed and Matajuro was still working. Thinking of the future, he was sad. Matajuro had not yet begun to learn the art to which he had dedicated himself.

But one day Banzo crept up behind Matajuro and gave him a hair-raising blow with a wooden sword.

The next day, while Matajuro was cooking rice, Banzo suddenly leapt over him. After that, day and night, Matajuro had to defend himself against such unexpected blows. On any day, there was not a minute when Matajuro was not thinking about the taste of Banzo's blade.

Matajuro learned very quickly. He brought his master happy smiles. Matajuro became the greatest swordsman in the land."

2. Analysis

The story above gives us many meaningful points related to the practice of meditative concentration. What is interesting first of all is that the master made Matajuro give up his ambition to become a famous swordsman by not letting him think about the sword or touch the sword. Three years of ordinary chores gradually cooled him, though he sometimes felt sad and wronged. Then the master Banzo used his masterstroke to form the "sword mind" in Matajuro, by often attacking him unexpectedly in secret. This forced him to be afraid and on guard constantly. It was precisely this state of constant fear and vigilance, prolonged over a long time and continuous until it reached a peak, that turned into inspired mastery. Matajuro no longer learned the sword with an ordinary inner mind like other sword students, but with an inner mind that was lucid, sharp and extremely still.

Those who study meditation are similar; they too must have three states of mind, worry, vigilance and constancy, if they are to achieve outstanding meditative concentration.

a. The state of worry

There are many worries that make our mind uneasy and suffering, for example fear that others are better than us, fear that tomorrow our wealth will vanish, fear that no one will love us, and so on. Such worries come from selfishness and so lead to suffering and at the same time strengthen the ego.

By contrast, there are worries that make our mind more noble and strong, such as worry about the fate of the country, of humanity, of the Buddha's Dharma. Whoever lacks such worries in the mind is a person who lacks ethics.

There is one worry that is very necessary for a person in spiritual practice, and that is the fear of committing faults. A person who knows to fear faults is, first of all, a good person. A bad person is not troubled by this. Next, such a person is also one with humble ethics (please see Moral Psychology 4), because he always thinks he may commit a fault at any time. An arrogant person keeps thinking that he never errs.

A person who presumes he cannot make mistakes will be a person who makes mistakes continually. Conversely, a person who is always anxiously afraid of faults will avoid very many faults. The faults we must fear being cut into our souls, into our lives, are: hating people, anger, wounded pride, rivalry, arrogance, selfishness, greed, degeneration, misjudging people, and so on. These faults appear very easily throughout one's life and create wrongdoing and karmic obstacles. These faults are also not always noticed, because they are very subtle. Understanding this, a practitioner must know to fear constantly. This worry is a sign of wisdom and ethics.

Alongside fear of faults, a person who practises meditation has a still more urgent worry, which is fear that delusive thoughts will attack unexpectedly without our knowing how to eliminate them. Banzo created in Matajuro this extremely urgent state of fear in order to make Matajuro inspired and masterful. We who practise meditation are at a disadvantage, because no one helps us to have such urgent fear, since delusive thoughts are inside our own mind and do not come from outside. If we had an urgent worry like Matajuro's, perhaps we would have many more outstanding meditators in the Buddha's Dharma.

b. The state of vigilance

From the state of worry, vigilance will arise. This is the state of watching and examining carefully so as to quickly detect whether faults or delusive thoughts are present, in order to eliminate them in time. Matajuro had to keep watch at all times for Banzo's fearsome sword stroke, not knowing from which direction it would come, because Banzo always went to the trouble of hiding in ambush and striking as fast as lightning. Although Banzo did not intend to injure his student, his sword strokes flying close to his head and neck frightened Matajuro out of his wits and forced him to keep watch all around, because sometimes Banzo attacked from a bush, sometimes from a haystack, from a bend in the path, from under a bridge, from a roof, from behind, or suddenly from the front. When vigilance reached a high pitch and spread everywhere, Matajuro gradually attained a spiritual sensitivity that knew everything around him, even behind his back or in the dark. In time Matajuro even knew an opponent's intention before they could make their move. Once he knew his opponent so well, the rest, returning the right blow, was easy. A person who practises meditation is the same: he must keep watch, because he does not know when delusive thoughts will appear and what matter they will bring that carries the mind away to chase after them. Sometimes it is something from the past; sometimes a hope for the future; sometimes petty thoughts, matters of sorrow, love, anger or hatred; sometimes very dangerous ethical faults such as resentment and envy. If vigilance reaches a deep, subtle and penetrating level, we may attain a sudden awakening that changes the whole state of consciousness.

c. Constancy

However, only when worry and vigilance are sustained continuously for many days and months does that spiritual sensitivity appear. Banzo made Matajuro highly vigilant all day and all night. Perhaps even when he fell asleep, Matajuro was still haunted by his master's sword stroke. A person who practises meditation is the same: vigilance must be maintained unbroken and without slackening before awakening can be hoped for. Matajuro had the good fortune to have a devoted and skilful master. We who practise must be our own teacher, by striving to keep up our worry about faults and our vigilance towards delusive thoughts, diligently and without interruption, all day and even while asleep. At first, Matajuro was judged by his own father, himself a master swordsman, to lack the aptitude for the way of the sword. But through Banzo's extraordinary method, Matajuro achieved a supernatural sword mind and became the number one master. In the same way, if a person can constantly fear faults and be vigilant towards delusive thoughts, that person can still become a genuine eminent monk. This merit comes from the source of humble ethics and well-intentioned diligence. Humble ethics and diligence can bring a person of ordinary aptitude to excellent aptitude. Humble ethics in particular covers a very wide range, from diligent bowing to the Buddha and respect for everyone to the prevention of arrogance.

The story of Matajuro and his master Banzo gives us a further understanding of the Japanese way of the sword, which goes far beyond ordinary swordsmanship.

Question: Assess your own vigilance: is it deep and sustained or not?