Thinking Outside the Box
Courage consists not in blindly overlooking danger,
but in seeing it and conquering it.
– Anonymous
Not long after his encounter with Governor Yasumasa, the famous thief Hakamadare was arrested and sent to prison. He did not stay long. An imperial pardon was passed, setting free prisoners throughout the country, including Hakamadare. Without money, a job, or clothes apart from those on his back, he had few prospects for a decent future. Thus, not altogether unhappily, he returned to a life of crime. Moreover, he had learned a great deal during his time in prison and was anxious to try out new means of theft.
He set out for Osaka, the second biggest city in Japan. With no place to stay, and for lack of a better plan, he stripped himself naked at Osaka Barrier, a busy checkpoint on Mount Osaka. Completely unclothed, he lay down by the roadside and pretended to be dead.
Soon a crowd gathered around Hakamadare. “How on earth did he die? He doesn’t have a wound! Why is he naked?”
A samurai approached from the direction of Kyoto, riding a beautiful horse and accompanied by many armed men and servants. The narrow pass was clogged with people. He stopped his horse and sent an attendant to find out what they were all looking at. The attendant returned quickly. “There is a dead man lying in the middle of the pass, sir. He has no wounds. Everyone is wondering how he died and how he got there.”
The warrior ordered his men into a single file behind him and adjusted his bow and arrow. He kicked his horse and passed by, warily looking at the dead man.
The people who had gathered turned from the “dead” man to the samurai. They laughed and clapped their hands. “There goes a fierce and famous warrior and all his soldiers. He runs into a dead man and cocks his bow for protection. What a great warrior he must be!” They mocked him until he was gone from sight.
The crowd finally dispersed, leaving Hakamadare where he lay. It was late when another warrior on horseback came by. He was alone, without any servants or soldiers. He was armed with his bow and arrow. He rode up to the dead man.
“What a strange fellow. How on earth did he die? He has no wounds or signs of illness,” said the samurai, as he poked at Hakamadare with the tip of his bow.
Suddenly the “dead man” grabbed the bow, jumped up, and pulled the man off his horse, knocking him out. He stripped the unconscious samurai of his clothes, donned them himself, mounted the horse, and rode away.
When Hakamadare was far enough from Osaka Barrier, he stopped to examine the beautiful swords that he had taken from the samurai. They were very old and, Hakamadare thought, must have been in the samurai’s family for generations. “Now they’ll remain in my family for generations to come,” he said to himself realizing that now, for the first time in his life, he could imagine having a wife and children. “Dressed as I am and possessing such beautiful family swords, I will have no trouble attracting a woman who will want to have dozens of little samurai with me. But I will teach them myself how to be good samurai, not like the owner of these swords was. First though, I want retainers like that first proud samurai who passed me so cautiously on the road. That one was no fool.”
His ploy had been so successful that he repeated it – thirty times. He never failed to find some fish that would fall into his net. Thus he armed and dressed thirty of his friends from prison who became his retainers. Wherever Hakamadare went, people admired the proud samurai who rode at the head of a long line of thirty loyal retainers, attentive to his every word, looking as if they owed him their very lives.
A man like Hakamadare got the better of anyone who was off his guard even slightly. A person who went near enough for him to touch was finished. Hakamadare often thought of that first samurai who so carefully rode past him, unconcerned about people laughing at him because of his prudence.
That first samurai to pass Hakamadare at Osaka Barrier was none other than the famous Taira no Sadamichi. Although he had been supported by many armed men, he knew what he knew and, as Hakamadare would joke, “could smell a rotten fish when he saw one.” This warrior never allowed himself to be off guard. That was what made him such an exceptional samurai. He did not care that others called him a coward. He trusted his own instincts, and prevailed.
Musashi often used the ploy of coming late to destroy the composure of his opponents, just as he successfully did with Gan-ryu. In one situation, however, Musashi had the intuition that the ploy would not work. Therefore, he literally turned the situation on its head. Musashi always said, “Never be predictable!”
Japanese Weapons
Samurai training included skills in many weapons, such as spears and arrows, and also unarmed combat. The most prominent forms were kendo (the way of the sword), kyudo (the way of archery), iaido (the art of drawing the sword), and the techniques of unarmed combat that became known as judo (the way of gentleness) and karate-do (the way of the empty hand).
Musashi Miyamoto was often challenged by ambitious swordsmen who were younger and stronger than he was and convinced that their youth and strength would prevail over Musashi’s experience and wisdom. Unable to avoid one such match, Musashi set the time at dawn and the place beside an old Buddhist temple.
Knowing Musashi’s trickery and his habit of coming late, his challenger decided to come late himself. “Let Musashi wait this time!” he said to his family and students.
“No, I have a better idea,” said the man’s brother. “Let’s not come late. Let’s arrive early. We’ll hide your students in the bushes around the temple. If you’re doing well, they’ll just stay put and watch. If things go badly in the fight, they’ll jump out and attack Musashi from behind.”
“Brilliant,” the samurai said. “Let’s hope I won’t need any help, but if I do, we’ll teach Musashi a lesson in the merits of coming early and being prepared.”
“The later he comes, the better,” said the brother.
And so they arrived in the dark before dawn and proceeded to set themselves up according to plan. In each of the bushes beside the temple and scattered across the field they placed students armed with swords, spears, and bows. Then they all sat down to wait, the challenger and his brother alone in the middle of the large field.
A friend of Musashi had come early to watch the match and had seen the trap his challenger had prepared. No matter how many samurai were to attack him with swords and spears, Musashi’s friend knew the great warrior could take them. It was the archers who worried him. They would be able to attack from a distance, free from danger, and kill Musashi before he even knew where they were hidden. He ran back down the only road to the temple and waited there to warn Musashi.
Unbeknownst to anyone, there was someone else who had arrived early. And he also was aware of all the goings-on. He was still there, in fact, hidden in one of the bushes a little farther afield, while the challenger and his brother confidently waited on the grass. That someone was Musashi Miyamoto, who had been the first to arrive – in full darkness – to watch the others, by the dim light of the pre-dawn morning sky, put their secret plan into play.
Musashi well understood that a wise strategist knows to change his plan when it gets too well-known. One must always keep one’s opponents off balance and never let them know what to expect. The dawn came and went. Musashi decided to wait a little longer and let them get tired as they anxiously watched and waited. In the meantime he rested, knowing that he would have a longer fight than usual.
When Musashi judged the time to be right, when he knew that his opponents were hungry and tired from constantly watching and trying to remain composed, he ran to the nearest bush and noiselessly cut down the archer hiding there. He ran from bush to bush, taking out first the archers, then the spearmen, and finally the remaining swordsmen.
The challenger and his brother sat chatting in the field, biding their time, relaxing as they awaited the famous samurai they thought they had just outfoxed.
It’s funny, Musashi thought to himself as he watched them from behind the bush where he had killed the last plotter, how complacency destroys men. I was never complacent about Gan-ryu or anyone. I know that even my seemingly weakest opponent may have some hidden strength that I am unaware of I am always prepared for the unexpected. Not like these two men, believing they are surrounded by their warrior companions, when in fact it is a circle of corpses that surrounds them. Except for me, of course! And now it is time to meet my appointment. I believe they are expecting me.
Musashi jumped out from the bush, and it was as if he had fallen from the sky. His opponents could not understand how they had not even heard him walking on the noisy gravel road.
They took up fighting positions. Musashi let out his distinctive kiai to alert his unsuspecting friend on the road to come and watch. The man ran toward the field, fearing that Musashi was about to be skewered by spears, swords, and arrows.
Musashi took his time with his opponent, waiting for his friend to arrive. After all, the man had waited patiently alone on the road, good friend that he was. Musashi would never forget this loyalty.
Finally, the fight began. Several times Musashi drove his opponent up against the temple wall and then backed away, letting the worried man free himself. Where are my students? the challenger wondered. They should have devoured Musashi by now! Isn’t it evident that I won’t be able to defeat Musashi on my own? What are they waiting for?
The man charged forward with all his might, yelling out the names of his students, hoping to wake them from their slumber. Musashi smiled at the desperation on his opponent’s face. He was curious to see what the expression would be when his opponent finally realized that he was all alone, that no one would come to his aid, that somehow, some way, Musashi had outfoxed him after all.
Musashi was holding back on his final thrust until the moment of supreme enlightenment would strike his opponent, like lightning from the heavens. A few seconds later, it happened, and all color drained from the man’s face.
Musashi lowered his sword. “When a person confronts his own death, each moment is lived to the utmost. I dreamed of a luscious strawberry before my duel with Gan-ryu, and on the way home, in the same boat, somehow still alive, I promised myself that no strawberry would ever again be the same as before. I would savor each one, just like every experience of my life, as if it were my last. This attitude has greatly enriched my life. What do you think about that?”
The man dropped his sword and ran as fast as he could into the woods. Musashi quickly turned toward the brother, who immediately threw down his sword and followed. Musashi let them go. He had never wanted to fight this day in the first place, nor any day for that matter. Musashi was able to get out of a trap. But it’s far better to avoid a trap in the first place.
My daughter was coming to meet me at a friend’s office in a downtown highrise. She entered the lobby of the building, and pushed the button for the elevator. When it arrived, there was a man waiting in it. My daughter thought twice about going in, and decided to wait for the next elevator, even though she was in a hurry.
She had to wait for a long time and, by the time the elevator was finally working again, it was past the hour we had arranged to meet. Always punctual, my daughter was apologetic for her lateness. But I was pleased with the choice she had made.
When should you be alert? Always – just as a samurai is always on guard. Was the man an attacker? I don’t know, but I trust my daughter’s intuition and am glad she had the courage to trust it too. Being late is better than putting yourself in danger.
The samurai Taira no Sadatsuna and his wife were asleep when robbers broke into their house. Sadatsuna awoke as they stormed into the room. Leaping up, he reached for his sword and forced them back. Then, pushing his frightened wife ahead of him, he escaped into the courtyard. They both jumped over the cypress fence into his neighbor’s yard and got away.
When people heard about this, they were shocked. “Robbers violated his house and, instead of fighting and defending his wife, he pushed her over the fence and ran away with her. Some samurai!”
Sadatsuna explained, “If the same thing were to happen again, I would act no differently. It is no heroism to risk one’s life with thieves. They are desperate and will often fight to the very death. I am a samurai. It is my position to defend my country in time of crisis. That is where I will risk my life. And what if I had fought and been killed? What would have happened to my wife then? I saved us both by running. I pushed her ahead of me, protecting her as we ran.”
Sadatsuna was not a coward. When war broke out, he was a brave and cunning fighter who never gave up no matter how dire the situation. He risked his life on many occasions to save others. He died in battle defending his country.
A samurai is supposed to be brave. He must be prepared to risk his life at any time. Yet he must do so only in the right circumstances. He must also know when not to risk his life. And when to run away.
The samurai, known for their courage, liked this story because it valued wisdom over bravery, as well as another samurai virtue – avoiding violence. Fight only when you have to.
While scuba diving in the Caribbean one early morning, I became tired from battling the rough surf.
As I turned to swim back to shore, I found myself nose-to-nose with an enormous barracuda the locals called Boris. If ever anything in my life took my breath away, it was this moment of suddenly, and completely unexpectedly, facing off with a fish that reminded me of my nightmare sharks. I wanted to go past the huge fish. How do you say excuse me to a fish? Especially a giant barracuda named Boris! He was in a playful mood and kept circling me as I tried to swim back. He was magnificent … but too much, too close!
I couldn’t seem to lose him. He was always in front of me, or below me, or to my side – always with teeth visible. The surf was rougher than before, and I was exhausted.
I couldn’t swim around Boris. So I just headed for the shore. I swam with everything I had in me and made it back, I thought, in relatively good time. I felt Boris staring at me as I climbed out of the water. I was elated and overwhelmed.
I was relieved to get back to my hotel and eat lunch with my family and friends. I was also relieved that I had not been Boris’s lunch. They asked me how my morning diving had gone and I told the story.
One of my friends noted that it was a lucky thing that I was a martial artist and hence felt no fear. “No fear?” I said. “I was never so scared in my life!”
“What a disappointment!” he said. I could see that I had just dropped in everyone’s opinion. “Next time you tell the story, leave out the part about being afraid, okay? It makes a much better tale.”
“But I was afraid.” I answered. “To pretend I wasn’t makes it a tall tale. I didn’t panic. I didn’t pull out my diver’s knife and confront Boris. I just swam back without making him mad.”
Martial arts haven’t made me any less human. I think that’s one of the best aspects of the samurai spirit. We will still be human even if we train to be modern-day samurai. And as humans, we will sometimes be afraid. But we can act brave. And that’s a lot!
It is not what happens to you
but what happens within you
that determines if you are really defeated.
– Anonymous
Two samurai were among thousands of warriors engaged in a battle that swept across a vast plain. On the overlooking hills stood hundreds of archers who rained down their arrows on the enemy soldiers.
One arrow penetrated the chest of a ferocious samurai, just above the heart. The enemy around him watched anxiously, waiting to see if anything could really halt the warrior who killed so many of their bravest men. The wounded man saw the arrow piercing his body and dropped his sword as he staggered, trying to pull the arrow out. The men around him fell on him from all sides, and in seconds he was dead.
Across the same plain, a second powerful samurai was also struck by a falling arrow, which hit him in the exact same place as the first arrow hit the ferocious samurai. This warrior’s opponents could not believe their luck. They closed in for the kill, being careful to wait to see if he was truly felled. The warrior looked at the arrow sticking out of his body, grabbed his sword with two hands over his head, let out a tremendous, ear-shattering kiai, and continued his relentless advance on the enemy.
Seeing the ashen warrior advancing toward them with the arrow sticking out of his chest, and hearing his voice that seemed to come from the underworld, they scattered, as if being chased by the King of Death.
In a few moments, with no one left around him to fight, the wounded samurai sat down to rest. A comrade removed the arrow and dressed the wound. This samurai lived to fight many more battles, with a ferocious scar on his chest just above the heart and an awe-inspiring nickname: the King of Death.
What killed the first warrior? Was it the first arrow? Or was it really the second arrow – the one he inflicted upon himself-the arrow of despair?
Perhaps the greatest lesson of the samurai is not that we should never feel fear, but that we should never give in to it. When others may quit and despair, those with the samurai spirit maintain the energy, the spirit, and the focus to find the way around every obstacle. Life isn’t just what happens to us but, more importantly, how we react to it.