Will
budo make me a better person? Not necessarily. Maybe. If you want it
to. If you train properly.. There is an old idea that training in a Way
(budo, sado, kado, etc) will make you a better person. It’s wonderful
story. A lifetime of training has made the grizzled old teacher wise,
kind and gentle. If we study the art we too will be transformed in
wise, kind, gentle people as well.
If only it were so.
You
will become what you train. It is entirely possible to study and
master the techniques of an art and completely miss it’s essence. This
is perhaps most visible in international Judo. If you watch
international Judo competitions you can see some spectacular and subtle
application of judo techniques and physical principles. The throws and
techniques are incredible. The behavior of the contestants is no
better than in any other sport though. There are good competitors who
treat everyone with respect. There are bad sports who throw temper
tantrums when they don’t like the referee’s calls. There are glory
hounds who dance and shout and put on displays when they win. There
jerks who are disdainful towards everyone around them.
With
as many years of Judo training as it takes to becoming a competitor at
the international level, if just training in Judo was going to make you a
better person, all of these people should be fabulous human beings with
grace, kindness, respect and dignity for everyone, especially when on
display in an international event. Instead the behavior you see is no
better than at any other sporting event. We can see clearly that
spending years practicing a form of budo will not automatically
transform you into a great person.
The
focus of training in the dojo is usually on technique. It is entirely
possible to study the techniques of an art, become extremely good at the
techniques, and never touch the rich principles that animate the art
and make it applicable throughout life and not just in the dojo or in a
fight. Focusing on technical practice is appropriate, since the
techniques are there to point you in the direction of the principles.
Chuang
Tzu talks about the finger and the moon. The pointing finger directs
us to the moon, but once we have found the moon we forget about the
finger. If we fixate on the finger we will never move beyond it, and we
will never find the moon. In budo, the techniques are like the finger.
They point us towards the principles, but it easy to become fixated on
the techniques and miss their connections to deeper principles and
ideas.
We
train techniques. That’s how we learn budo. Techniques and kata teach
us the fundamentals of the art and how to apply them. The techniques
of an art are powerful. In Judo, the throws, joint locks and strangles
are powerful and impressive. In other arts there are strikes and
weapons to study and be fascinated by. It’s easy to get caught up in
learning these techniques. The deeper, more subtle principles that make
the techniques work can be forgotten in the race to master the
techniques. This is especially true in something like Judo, where
victory in competition can become a goal that eclipses and outshines
everything else.
The
techniques alone can seem powerful. Victory in competition brings
glory and personal satisfaction. But these are not the principles of
the art being studied, and they have nothing to do with becoming a
better person. In fact, they more often lead in the opposite direction.
The techniques of budo dangerous and powerful. It’s easy to get
caught up with learning how to be dangerous and powerful. Knowing those
dangerous and powerful techniques can give a person confidence. On the
other hand, a person can become focused on that sense of power and
become obnoxious and bullying because they have some power. In arts
with a competitive side, such as Judo and Kendo, the focus on winning
competitions can consume a person’s focus, so they forget all the other
parts of the art. They can stop respecting anything but victory, and
cheerfully ignore and belittle any aspect of the art that doesn’t
directly contribute to victory in competition.
In
both cases, a person can study an art for a lifetime and that study
will never make them a better person. It might even make them less of a
person. They can become proud, arrogant, rude and unpleasant to been
around. Pretty much the opposite of what a well-developed budoka should
be.
So
the first step to becoming a better person through budo practice is to
avoid the pitfalls. The pitfalls are inherent in the practice.
Fortunately, the lessons for becoming a better person are there too.
If you are willing to work at them to learn the principles the
techniques point us towards, you can do a lot with yourself. You have
to be willing to work at applying these lessons not only to how you
fight, but to how you live.
Each
art has a few principles that drive it and give it unique
characteristics, but they all have some unavoidable similarities as well
(the optimal use of the human body being something that doesn’t
change). In any budo you develop stamina and endurance and the ability
to suffer through tough training in order to improve. These are
certainly not bad character traits. But they are more like a
foundation, since they can also support all of the negative traits
mentioned earlier.
The
big questions are what do you want to get out of your training, and who
do you want to become? Budo training will make you a better person if
you actively direct your training and apply it to being becoming a
better person. If you leave your training at the dojo door every day it
won’t have much effect on you. If you take it with you, look around
and see the similarities between budo and the rest of life and apply the
dojo lessons about dealing with conflict to the conflicts in life, then
you budo can be tool for becoming a better person.
Budo
isn’t passively effective. You have to actively work at it. It will
make you more patient, and less liable to lose your temper, more
peaceful, and much calmer, if you work with it. These are all lessons
you can pick up in the dojo. You know you can’t tense up when
practicing with someone who is attacking you with a big stick. It just
creates opportunities for her to whack you and slows you down. Now, can
you apply that lesson when you are being attack verbally? Can you keep
calm and choose the best response, rather than tensing up and girding
for a fight? Can you breathe calmly and peacefully?
Keeping
your balance and maintaining a solid foundation from which to act is
critical in budo. Keeping those physical lessons in front of you, can
you teach yourself to maintain a good mental balance and not go rushing
into arguments and not reel back from non-physical aggression? Can a
judoka learn to apply the lesson of ukemi and roll with the attack and
not stiffen up? Can the aikidoka remember to get off the line of attack
and realize that a counterattack may not even be necessary? Can the
kendoka lightly deflect the incoming attack so it goes off into
unoccupied space?
When
you can start to do these things, you’ll be on the path to applying
your budo lessons to life and becoming a better person. Learning to
apply these fundamentals can lead to the discovery of other budo lessons
that you can train at in everyday life.
One of the lessons of budo training is that you become good at what you practice. So, will budo training make me a better person? It will if that is what I train myself to be
4 comments:
I wholeheartedly agree that the non-physical aspects of budo are there for people who wish to find them.
Two things, though: the role of the teacher in pointing out that the philosophical aspects of training are there is, I think, essential. Without that, I think even a philosophically astute person would have trouble finding that part of the path. Additionally, I think the teacher has the responsibility to enforce certain personality-enhancing traits of the practice; i.e., mutual respect and even the occasional lecture on how things that take place outside the dojo should be dealt with. In other words, if the teacher is a clod who is only out to win or is simply ignorant of the more subtle aspects of budo, it would have to be a wise student indeed who could pick up those aspects by training with him/her.
The second point, of course, is that many people are not necessarily looking for "self improvement" in their budo practice beyond getting better at the techniques. Some of them are jerks, and some of them are okay people. But neither the nicer ones nor the jerks will change much.
Thank you for the comments about the teacher's role. I fully agree that the teacher's responsibility is a large one. If you don't mind, I'm going to take this idea and run with it for a full blog post later on.
And yes, if students aren't looking to change for the better, they probably won't.
I will continue in the line of Ronin scholar. The teacher responsibility is more than to teach skills. I think that a Teacher must change the way the Martial Art is regarded these days - a sport. 'Jerks' will change the moment they realize that it is at least one person in the world better than them. You can see the changing attitude in the way they act once they found their "better than them" opponent. And I don't mean by this to kick their butts to make them understand this, but to explain them the things they are doing from the martial point of view, not from the "sparring for points" POV.
Pete, you were saying:
"There are bad sports who throw temper tantrums when they don’t like the referee’s calls"
This is the best example in showing the weakness of this shifting from martial art to sport with martial component. If the guy would have understood that even a punch thrown with a less "competition look" means he is looking for air on the floor, he will think twice about arguing. In some MA they go for fraction of seconds to decide the winner. This is something that will make a jerk feeling good about himself "I got him, I am better than him, quicker with a 10th of the second!".
This approach is wrong from my point of view - both are injured or dead, so nothing to brag about. In my opinion, the way a Sensei teaches is the way that will change someone. I've seen rarely jerks after a year of training usually. They leave before their character changes.
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