The Philosophising Samurai And Living By The Way Of The Sword

A Sip Of Wisdom

Dear Drink To That Reader,

In addition to sharing my thoughts about various drink categories, you’ll also receive the occasional long essay in a series I’ve called Sips of Wisdom.

This series contains philosophical thoughts and practical lessons from cultures and figures I admire.

Let’s start with Japan’s most famous samurai…

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Water rolled onto the beaches of Funajima Island, back and forth, back and forth. A calm, lazy pace that matched the bright April morning. Shaped like a boat, the island was tiny, unremarkable and serene, the opposite of the man who paced up and down the shoreline in frustration.

His name was Sasaki Kojiro, the greatest warrior in the land. So great was his reputation in battle that he was called the Demon of the West, a reputation he’d earned under the tutelage of the renowned swordsman Toda Seigen, earned through the infamy of the two-foot nodachi sword he carried and the Ganryu fighting style he’d developed with it. He called the sword the drying pole. Its icy sting was the last sensation his opponents felt before they greeted death.

Kojiro gripped the scabbard of his blade, longing to release it, to make it sing with his favourite technique. The turning swallow cut. He gripped it with so much force that his knuckles turned white at the irritation he felt towards his opponent who had the disrespect to keep him waiting. The duel had been arranged for eight in the morning and there was still no sign of the bastard.

Kojiro vented again about the lack of respect to his second, who’d ventured to the island to bear witness to the duel and spread the word of his victory across Japan. The Demon of the West bellyached about how any self-respecting, honourable samurai would show up on time, that they would see it as a privilege to face him one on one. At last, on the horizon, Kojiro spied a boat coming closer to the island.

‘How long has he kept me waiting now?’ The samurai demanded to his second.

‘By my last count, it’s two hours,’ the witness said.

 Feeling another spasm of rage, the master of the Ganryu fighting style watched the boat arrive. His eyes bored into the bane of his existence: Miyamoto Musashi.

‘You’re late,’ Kojiro barked, rolling his shoulders in preparation for releasing the drying pole.

‘I overslept,’ Musashi replied, brandishing a crudely fashioned wooden sword that looked as if had been made from an oar.

Kojiro would not brook such mockery. He unsheathed his blade and bellowed, ‘Enough of your disrespect! Let this gesture be a sign that there will be no quarter or mercy shown.’ He tossed the scabbard into the water.

‘You’ve already lost,’ Musashi said. ‘If you planned on winning, you’ll need your scabbard again later.’

That was the last straw.

The Demon of the West leapt at his rival, already making the turn for his swallow cut that had felled every other opponent. Kojiro could see victory in his grasp. He could smell it on the sea breeze.

He could…

A splitting pain vibrated through his skull. The sky and sun faded out of range. All Kojiro could see was Musashi above him, his senses breaking apart. Reacting on instinct, he swung his sword at Musashi’s legs. Something sharp pierced his chest and as life left him, Kojiro thought he saw Musashi bow to him and return to the boat.

Japan’s most famous samurai

The Funajima duel, which took place on modern-day Ganryu Island, is a defining moment in a long list of defining moments for Miyamoto Musashi. Arguably Japan’s most famous samurai, Musashi is celebrated the world over for his skills as a martial artist, philosopher, strategist and warrior. His magnum opus, The Book of Five Rings, is quoted and revered by leaders across the globe and there are profound lessons to be found within the text.

Musashi as drawn in the popular manga Vagabond.

There’s a fine line between reality and fiction and given Musashi’s legendary status, it goes without saying that an entire mythos and industry has been built on his name. This chapter is about exploring the myth and the man and grounding his timeless lessons that evoke the core of Japanese philosophy.

The myth

Synonymous with the virtues of bushido and the samurai spirit, Musashi has been hailed as the greatest Japanese duellist of all time, going undefeated in sixty-one duels.

Most of Musashi’s adventures are greatly exaggerated and idealised by swordsmen, creatives and academics decades and centuries after his death, projecting their own biases on what they needed and wanted him to be.

To some scholars, Musashi is the antithesis of what being a samurai means because of his tactics of running away and deliberately biding his time to throw opponents off guard, tactics that were considered dishonourable and underhanded.

All the myths and legends paint him as either a bloodthirsty killing machine, or a deeply self-aware warrior that wanted to achieve the highest state of enlightenment, from the age of 30 onwards. The truth is, it says far more about the human penchant for storytelling than it does about who Musashi was as an individual based on everything that’s been written about him. Some of those stories will be examined.

Two early examples come from the eighteenth century. The first in a treatise called Honcho Bugei Shoden published in 1716 by the swordsman Hinatsu Shigetaka. The second is a kabuki play called Revenge on Ganryu which debuted in 1737. Both works of art lionised Musashi in his fight against Kojiro, contributing to many retellings of the duel.

The most decisive Musashi text from the period is called the Nitenki. Published in 1776 by Toyota Kagehide, the author pieced together his subject’s life based on documents passed down from his grandfather, Masakata, who served Musashi’s student Nagaoka Naoyuki. Kagehide is responsible for the fictional details of Musashi delaying his arrival to throw Kojiro off his game and turning an oar into the sword that dealt the final blow.

During the Meiji period, Musashi fiction became big business as the bushido myth was propagated by the government to fuel Japanese nationalism. This popularity continued into the twentieth century with the epic Musashi narrative told by author Yoshikawa Eiji, which started in 1935 as a series of articles published in the Asahi Shimbun newspaper.

Yoshikawa’s work was collected into a novel in 1939 and from that point on set the blueprint for all other Musashi stories that entered Japanese and Western pop culture.

Reading Yoshikawa’s Musashi, it’s easy to see how his account could be taken for the gospel truth. It’s a rich tapestry of characterisation. Yoshikawa’s Musashi starts as the rough around the edges, unrefined Takezo, a boy who ran away from his village to fight at the Battle of Sekigahara with his friend Matahachi.

Over time, Takezo matures into a swordsman who instead of wanting to prove himself as the ultimate warrior, comes to see the Way of the Sword as the only way to live a life of meaning and adhere to a higher purpose.

Along his road through life, Musashi struggles with his feelings for a woman known as Otsu, who serves as a reminder that he must stick to the path at all costs, but that he’s also a human being, prone to the same desires as anyone else. Indeed, Musashi isn’t just about its central character.

There are many side characters who interact with the protagonist and parallel his growth. For example, Musashi’s friend Matahachi contrasts as a layabout always looking for an easy way out of things. Sasaki Kojiro also acts as a dark mirror and nemesis to Musashi throughout the novel, supremely gifted and arrogant in his intent to become Japan’s greatest swordsman by any means necessary. The book is worth reading for its escapism, but it is very much a work of fiction.

Another mythical aspect of Musashi’s life is that he invented a never-before-seen swordsmanship style called Niten Ichi-ryu (School of Two Swords/Heavens as One), where a katana and wakizashi (short sword) are used together in combat.

It’s important to remember that the school encompassed multiple weapon techniques for single sword and staff use and Musashi adapted existing dual sword styles such as Tori-ryu from his adoptive father and teacher Miyamato Munisai.

Musashi’s techniques were distinctive enough from his father’s that he was successful in founding his own school, which emphasised fluidity and precision over savagery and brute force.

A traditional Japanese print of Musashi fighting.

The man

Stripped of embellishment and grandeur, Musashi is still a fascinating person who lived at a time of great upheaval in Japan. Based on meticulous research from Musashi expert Professor Uozumi Takashi, he was born in 1582 in Harima province (modern day Hyogo) in Yonedamura village.

The second son of Tahara Iesada, Musashi was born into a world of war. Oda Nobunaga had secured his legacy as the first unifier of Japan, while his right-hand man Toyotomi Hideyoshi reached the top of the mountain in 1585 by becoming regent. The Tahara clan had been defeated by Hideyoshi decades before and stripped of their warrior status.

The Tahara were connected to Munisai through the Akamatsu, a prominent and powerful clan of the early Sengoku period. With Musashi being adopted by Munisai, this meant that at least one member of the Tahara would keep their samurai status as a matter of honour.

Musashi describes his first duel at the age of 13 against a samurai by the name of Arima Kihei and while there are varying accounts of how the duel began, Musashi answered Kihei’s challenge and beat him to death with a staff. His second duel happened when he was 16 and he defeated another samurai called Tadashima Akiyama in 1598.

At the Battle of Sekigahara in 1600, Musashi played a small role on the side of Tokugawa Ieyasu, likely fighting for the Kuroda clan, to whom he was biologically linked. This is a significant part of untangling myth from reality because the stories of Musashi depict him as an otherworldly duellist rather than as a competent soldier in an army or as a political reformer who brought on great change. His contribution to influencing the course of Japanese history is minor to non-existent compared to other samurai of the Sengoku period.

In the fallout of Sekigahara, there were thousands of ronin left to wander the country and adopt musha-shugyo, a pilgrimage where warriors could travel and hone their skills. Musashi’s pilgrimage took him to Kyoto in 1602, where he made a name for himself by defeating members of the Yoshioka family in three separate duels.

Like all his other one-on-one encounters, Musashi’s fight against the Yoshioka has been fictionalised. Some stories claim that he employed his usual delaying tactics to catch each of his opponents off guard, while other tales feature him battling against hundreds of men before winning the third duel.

After the Yoshioka affair, Musashi set up his own martial arts school called Enmei-ryu, the prototype of his heavens as one style. Musashi’s school attracted many followers including famed swordsmen Aoki Joemon, Tada Yorisuke and Terao Magonojo.

Between 1605 and 1615, Musashi took part in multiple duels, including the legendary Ganryu Island incident against Kojiro. Other famous duels from this part of Musashi’s life involved defeating the six-foot Muso Gonnosuke with a half-finished bow and besting a bushi called Shishido who wielded a sickle and chain. Musashi stopped him cold by launching his sword into the man’s chest. Again, these stories should be taken with a pinch of salt.

By the age of 30, Musashi stopped seeking duels and pursued philosophy, teaching and art. In 1617, he settled into the Honda clan in the privileged position of kyakubun.

As a guest of the Honda, Musashi filled the role of a professor whose only responsibility was to teach his fighting techniques to members of the clan. This gave Musashi ample time to pursue other artistic ventures such as calligraphy, poetry, painting and sculpting.

Not long after this, Musashi adopted two sons. The first was Mikinosuke, who killed himself in 1626 after his lord died. The second, Iori, was Musashi’s nephew and son of his older brother Tahara Hisamitsu. A bright and promising young man, Iori served the powerful daimyo Ogasawara Tadazane and Musashi became a guest of the Ogasawara.

While Musashi spent most of his time teaching and philosophising, he still took part in combat. An example came in 1638 when he took part in the Shimabara Rebellion with Iori in a dispute that pitted Christian rebels against the Tokugawa shogunate. Accounts of Musashi’s role in the rebellion are unclear.

A popular theory is that he served as an advisor to Hosokawa Tadatoshi, a daimyo who would become one of Musashi’s closest friends. It’s also said Musashi was injured by a barrage of stones and he recovered enough to return to Kyushu as a guest of Tadatoshi.

The two men grew close, with Tadatoshi always eager to see Musashi in action. There’s an account of Tadatoshi arranging a competition between Musashi and his martial arts teacher, Ujii Yashiro.

During the competition, Yashiro couldn’t break through Musashi’s defence, while the innovator of Niten Ichi-ryu deflected everything. Impressed by the result, Tadatoshi challenged Musashi and met the same fate. From there, Tadatoshi became a student of Musashi and their friendship became so strong that he presented the daimyo with a scroll of his teachings in 1641.

Sadly, Tadatoshi died a month after receiving the scroll and Musashi sank deeper into his reflections, which culminated in a pilgrimage to the Reigando Cave in 1643. Located in Kumamoto on the grounds of the Zen temple Unganzenji, the name translates to spirit rock, due to the large volcanic boulder in the middle of the cave.

For Musashi, the cave was indeed spiritual because it was where he spent composing The Book of Five Rings, which became his ultimate expression of how the warrior balances philosophy with wielding the sword. In 1645, Musashi laid down his sword once and for all, dying at the age of 60 from cancer. Before his death, he passed on the unfinished manuscript of his greatest teachings to his student Magonojo.

The Book of Five Rings

Musashi’s legacy is contained within Gorin-no-sho (Five Ring Scrolls). I’ve used the Japanese translation for the first time here to demonstrate how the title of the book has shifted through the centuries.

Musashi never officially called his treatise by this name. He named each individual scroll after the five elements of earth, water, fire, wind and ether and it was Toyota Masakata and Nagaoka Naoyuki who used Gorin-no-sho in their notes and the summary stuck.

In this section, we’ll cover Musashi’s key takeaways and my own observations from each scroll.

Earth

In the Earth scroll, Musashi documents his life and his opinion of The Way, i.e. the code of conduct a bushi must live by physically, spiritually and mentally. Interestingly, he makes no distinction between other social classes of the time like farmers, merchants or artisans because the warrior must embrace skills from all sides to be well rounded and competent in their endeavours.

Musashi also notes the link between combatants and carpenters, stating, ‘a trooper is like a regular carpenter. A regular carpenter keeps his tools sharpened, makes his own auxiliary tools and transports them all in his toolbox.’

There are a couple of ways to take this allusion. In one sense, a warrior must be ready for combat even in times of peace. A carpenter takes care of his tools and it should be the same for a samurai.

In a modern context, this attitude can apply to martial artists, kendo practitioners and any activity that demands physical training. There’s also a lot of resonance with mental health as ‘tools’ can apply to techniques and behaviours for dealing with stressful situations, managing disorders like anxiety or depression, or strategising in a business setting.

Another powerful statement that stands out is Musashi’s view of ‘one man can topple ten men, one hundred can defeat one thousand and one thousand can beat ten thousand. Thus, in my school of strategy one man is the same as ten thousand.’

The important line to note here is that one person is the same as ten thousand. We’re all on the same level with our own perspectives. An individual has the same power to make a change as a group of 10,000 and it’s better to work in harmony than to jostle for prestige or one-upmanship.

For Musashi, we’re all crafting our own Ways that require specific rhythms and constant practice. The rhythms we choose can be chaotic, thrashing against the things that are beyond our control. Or they can be harmonised, flowing towards the activities and practices that will help improve emotional, physical and mental wellbeing.

This brings to mind two Japanese concepts that pair well with the Earth scroll. The first is gaman, an idea associated with Zen Buddhism that means endurance, self-control and discipline.

In the Japanese lens, gaman is a complex subject that can have negative effects if enduring becomes the same as bottling up emotions or passivity and Musashi himself wasn’t appropriating terms from Buddhist philosophy when writing The Book of Five Rings.

Far better to concentrate on applying the positive aspects of gaman, which include being more conscious of people and developing resilience against uncertainty.

The second idea is kaizen, or the act of continuous improvement that’s associated with improving efficiency in the workplace.

This perspective may appeal to leaders and entrepreneurs on a macro level, but it shouldn’t be underestimated on the micro level. Kaizen can be embraced day-to-day by making small steps towards personal progress, echoing Musashi’s belief that we should learn multiple skills in the pursuit of becoming the best version of ourselves.

The overall message of the Earth scroll is that every type of art and occupation is a Way that can be mastered and blended with one another on the quest for higher awareness.

Water

In the water scroll, Musashi delves into the mechanics of swordsmanship and the techniques of his fighting school. There’s a fluidity to the techniques that connect to his element of choice, and early on Musashi states, ‘do not allow your hands or sword to become rigid. A rigid hand is a dead hand. A fluid hand is the hand of life.’

What I take this to mean is that it’s vital to keep on building forward momentum. Being stuck in place is a pathway to burnout and stagnation. Just as a swordsman or -woman keeps the momentum of their blade going, we cannot afford to stay fixed in one position to achieve a personal victory or overcome a challenge.

Elsewhere, Musashi discusses the importance of having an expansive mind and the ability to see multiple perspectives. To do this, balance must be struck between thoughts in a manner that’s like Aristotle’s Golden Mean. Musashi’s ratio between two extremes involves keeping the mind ‘centred, not leaning too much to one side, swaying serenely and freely so that it does not come to a standstill in moments of change’.

A Japanese concept that informs Musashi’s work here is chowa, which translates to the search for harmony. It involves acting in balance with the world and striving for qualities that are in alignment with each other. For example, bravery and assertiveness can tip into arrogance if not tempered by humility and grace. Being laid back can fall into idleness if not bolstered by curiosity.

Musashi ends the water scroll with the process of applying chowa to swordsmanship and to life. It takes 1,000 days of training to forge an understanding of harmony and 10,000 days of training to refine it.

Fire

In the fire scroll, Musashi explains various psychological and physical techniques that he used to defeat his enemies and one of the most striking frameworks is his three-step initiative.

The first is ken-no-sen (crackdown) which involves being composed and striking with quick footwork and a sharp mind before the opponent can hit back. The second is tai-no-sen (clean-up) where an opponent is lulled into a false sense of security and repelled by them forcing to change tactics or caught unawares. The third is tai-tai-no-sen (coinciding), which is acting in opposite to an enemy’s movements. For example, if an army is advancing calmly, attack quickly.

The three initiatives are broken down into different exercises to be used interchangeably depending on the kind of person or force that’s being dealt with. One example is thinking like the enemy to realise they are putting on a mask of bravado and breaking this illusion is key to victory.

Another technique is called releasing the hilt, where Musashi implies that a leader should never grow so attached to their weapon that they can’t let it go and adapt with something new.

The fire scroll is also where Musashi provides more context on his famous delaying tactics that he called infection. His idea was that anything is communicable and can infect an individual or an army like an infection. Time is no different and he states that time can be used to increase a rival’s agitation to the point that it takes them off guard. Once their mind has been contaminated by your inaction, you can strike quickly and decisively.

Wind

In the wind scroll, Musashi refers to trends and practices of other martial arts schools, pointing out their shortcomings in comparison to his style. He was critical of flowery, flashy sword techniques with no substance that were used by other schools to get more students.

There were several red flags to look for and the first is that any school that claimed an extra-long sword is key to victory wasn’t a school to be associated with. Musashi debunked the notion that the length of a sword will make it easier to win from a distance and that there is a failure to understand the deeper principles of combat strategy. He also made it clear that he didn’t have a problem with using longer swords, only the biases surrounding the topic.

Another red flag was only relying on the use of short swords in battle, especially when engaging several opponents at once. There needed to be strategy behind any sword work and an adaption to the weapons and practices that were being used against the warrior in the moment.

Another thing that ground Musashi’s gears were so-called sword experts who tried to confuse novices with multiple complex techniques. They thought it made them look profound and worldly, but it revealed them as shysters and con artists.

As far as Musashi was concerned, simplicity was all a swordsman needed and basic techniques that were used the right way made the difference between life and death.

Musashi was also critical of schools that claimed speed and strength were the most important virtues of battle. A duel wasn’t won on how fast or slow someone moved. It was about anticipating the right time, being aware of the location and the temperament of the opponent.

Brute force was just as bad, as applying too much strength could break a sword or using a large army meant that you would be countered with an even force.

Musashi’s contempt for sword instructors with no substance has resonance in today’s hustle culture word of gurus and consultants claiming they can make people rich. Musashi’s most important takeaway from the wind scroll is discernment. Do thorough research before committing to anything, master the basics and practice, practice, practice.

Ether

Musashi’s final scroll is his most esoteric in his explanation of a concept he called the ether and the core of the school of heavens as one. According to Musashi, the ether isn’t the Buddhist place of Nirvana or Enlightenment.

It’s a space of nothingness or crystal-clear clarity that’s subjective to the warrior who dedicates himself to The Way and is able to reach when he is fully focused. It’s an ephemeral state that brings a profound state of self-awareness, a state that should be strived for in all the practices Musashi records in The Book of Five Rings.

Another way to describe the ether might be seijaku, another element of Japanese philosophy that’s akin to a state of energised calm.

It’s a feeling of deep tranquillity that goes beyond words and can be reached even in a chaotic situation. It’s possible to experience seijaku anywhere and may come from decluttering a house or walking through nature.

There are also connections to be found in Musashi’s philosophy with Greco-Roman schools of thought like Stoicism. A philosophy built on principles of courage, justice, wisdom and self-control, Stoicism makes the distinction between focusing on what we can control and what we can’t.

There are two Stoic concepts that are analogous to the ether. One is eudaimonia, a state of flourishing that brings mental and physical calm. The other is called the inner citadel, a mental space that can be stepped into for making important decisions and defusing negative emotions.

10 important life lessons from Musashi

1.    Practice is always better than theory.

2.     Imagine yourself as a carpenter who is using multiple tools and skills to build a good life.

3.     Never neglect the basics and return to them constantly.

4.     Have an open mind and see the world from more than one angle.

5.     Be discerning with every path you take.

6.     Strive for balance in life.

7.     Chart your own course and stick to your principles.

8.     Don’t fear adaptation or change.

9.     Deepen your understanding of the world through the arts.

10.  Nothing lasts forever and it’s important to leave behind a legacy built on good character.

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This essay originally appeared in my book Japanese Fighting Heroes: Warriors, Samurai and Ronins.