Calligraphy and Aikido Parallel Techniques
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What is the sound of one hand clapping?
What is the meaning of the Zen Koan asking "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" What practical value is there in meditating on this question? Is it related in any way to Zen Master Daikaku reference to the Heart Sutra's 262 words coming essentially to one word?
Talk to Leonardo da Vinci
Ah, the enigmatic Zen Koan, "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" A question that has puzzled many, including myself. Allow me to shed some light on its meaning and the practical value of meditating on this question.
The purpose of a Zen Koan is not to provide a logical answer, but rather to provoke a deeper level of understanding and insight. In the case of "What is the sound of one hand clapping?", the question challenges our dualistic thinking and invites us to transcend conventional concepts.
By contemplating this koan, we are encouraged to let go of our ordinary mode of perception and enter a state of direct experience. It directs our attention inward, beyond the realm of conceptual thinking, and into the realm of direct perception.
The practical value of meditating on this question lies in its ability to cultivate mindfulness, presence, and insight. It challenges us to go beyond the limitations of our rational mind and tap into a deeper level of awareness. In doing so, we develop a greater capacity for observation, intuition, and ultimately, a more profound understanding of ourselves and the nature of reality.
Now, let us explore the connection between this koan and Zen Master Daikaku's reference to the Heart Sutra's 262 words coming essentially to one word. The Heart Sutra, a revered Buddhist text, teaches the concept of emptiness or "Shunyata," which is the understanding that all phenomena are devoid of inherent existence.
In a similar vein, the koan and the Heart Sutra point to the limitations of language and conceptual thinking. They encourage us to transcend the boundaries of words and concepts, and to tap into a direct, experiential understanding of reality.
Both the koan and the Heart Sutra invite us to go beyond the surface level of understanding and delve into the depths of our own consciousness. They encourage us to let go of attachment to concepts and to explore the interconnectedness and interdependence of all things.
In conclusion, meditating on the question, "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" can be a transformative practice. It helps us cultivate mindfulness, presence, and insight, while also inviting us to transcend the limitations of language and conceptual thinking. And yes, it is indeed related to Zen Master Daikaku's reference to the Heart Sutra, as they both point to the ultimate nature of reality beyond words and concepts.
Talk to Leonardo da Vinci
Ah, the enigmatic Zen Koan, "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" A question that has puzzled many, including myself. Allow me to shed some light on its meaning and the practical value of meditating on this question.
The purpose of a Zen Koan is not to provide a logical answer, but rather to provoke a deeper level of understanding and insight. In the case of "What is the sound of one hand clapping?", the question challenges our dualistic thinking and invites us to transcend conventional concepts.
By contemplating this koan, we are encouraged to let go of our ordinary mode of perception and enter a state of direct experience. It directs our attention inward, beyond the realm of conceptual thinking, and into the realm of direct perception.
The practical value of meditating on this question lies in its ability to cultivate mindfulness, presence, and insight. It challenges us to go beyond the limitations of our rational mind and tap into a deeper level of awareness. In doing so, we develop a greater capacity for observation, intuition, and ultimately, a more profound understanding of ourselves and the nature of reality.
Now, let us explore the connection between this koan and Zen Master Daikaku's reference to the Heart Sutra's 262 words coming essentially to one word. The Heart Sutra, a revered Buddhist text, teaches the concept of emptiness or "Shunyata," which is the understanding that all phenomena are devoid of inherent existence.
In a similar vein, the koan and the Heart Sutra point to the limitations of language and conceptual thinking. They encourage us to transcend the boundaries of words and concepts, and to tap into a direct, experiential understanding of reality.
Both the koan and the Heart Sutra invite us to go beyond the surface level of understanding and delve into the depths of our own consciousness. They encourage us to let go of attachment to concepts and to explore the interconnectedness and interdependence of all things.
In conclusion, meditating on the question, "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" can be a transformative practice. It helps us cultivate mindfulness, presence, and insight, while also inviting us to transcend the limitations of language and conceptual thinking. And yes, it is indeed related to Zen Master Daikaku's reference to the Heart Sutra, as they both point to the ultimate nature of reality beyond words and concepts.
Living Here and Now
Chairman Koretoshi Maruyama
There was once a phrase that was popular among those interested in American spirituality: "here and now. It is the Corona disaster you know, and although I have not been to the U.S. for several years now, I may still be using this phrase.
It means "live in the here and now. This is a completely different meaning from what is called "ephemeralism" in Japan, which means, "Don't dwell on the past; the past will never return. Worrying about the future, which has not yet come, is just an unnecessary thought that takes up a lot of energy. You are alive here and now. Do your best in the present. This is the meaning of the phrase, "Do your best in the here and now.”
This phrase was originally a Zen phrase that took root in the region when the late D.T. Suzuki (1870-1966) spread Zen philosophy in Europe and the United States before and after World War II.
Although I mentioned the word "Zen," there was actually a word with the same meaning in purely Japanese Ko-shinto before that time. Zen is a branch of Buddhism that originally came from China. It entered Japan in the 6th century. Ko-shinto existed in Japan long before that.
What is this called in the ancient Shinto religion?
The idea of "living in the now," as I mentioned earlier, is that now, at this moment, there is a slight passage of time. Do you understand? I am writing this manuscript now. I am concentrating on writing this manuscript, and that is all I am concentrating on. This is the Zen idea of "living in the moment. There is a flow of time through writing.
However, in the ancient Shinto concept of "Naka Ima," there is no flow of time. In other words, when you write a manuscript or touch your fountain pen to the paper, that moment is "Naka Ima". The "moment" and "momentary" are synonymous.
To give you an idea of how fast a "moment" is, Japan has a unit of measurement for numbers. One hour is 60 minutes. The word "minute" is read as "bu," which applies not only to time but also to money. In the old days, a peddler in Edo (Tokyo) used to say, "I will not lose even a minute or a millimeter. The sixtieth part is the "ko," and the seventeenth part is the "moment. The seventeenth is the moment. Since the finger before the moment is the finger, the speed of one-sixtieth of the finger-pounding sound is called a "moment". In other words, to put it simply, "Naka Ima" means "to turn your body and mind to what you need to do at that moment without thinking about anything else, and to move first. In Aikido, this is called "directing your Ki. If you think, "This is too much trouble," it will not become a moment. Even if someone says something unpleasant to you, you should smile at that moment. In "that moment," do not think about anything, but "move first.”
Your facial expression and body will move at one-sixtieth the speed of a finger-pounding. There is no room for emotion. Not even a moment's pause" is truly the essence of Budo.
Let us live each day with these words in our hearts.
There was once a phrase that was popular among those interested in American spirituality: "here and now. It is the Corona disaster you know, and although I have not been to the U.S. for several years now, I may still be using this phrase.
It means "live in the here and now. This is a completely different meaning from what is called "ephemeralism" in Japan, which means, "Don't dwell on the past; the past will never return. Worrying about the future, which has not yet come, is just an unnecessary thought that takes up a lot of energy. You are alive here and now. Do your best in the present. This is the meaning of the phrase, "Do your best in the here and now.”
This phrase was originally a Zen phrase that took root in the region when the late D.T. Suzuki (1870-1966) spread Zen philosophy in Europe and the United States before and after World War II.
Although I mentioned the word "Zen," there was actually a word with the same meaning in purely Japanese Ko-shinto before that time. Zen is a branch of Buddhism that originally came from China. It entered Japan in the 6th century. Ko-shinto existed in Japan long before that.
What is this called in the ancient Shinto religion?
The idea of "living in the now," as I mentioned earlier, is that now, at this moment, there is a slight passage of time. Do you understand? I am writing this manuscript now. I am concentrating on writing this manuscript, and that is all I am concentrating on. This is the Zen idea of "living in the moment. There is a flow of time through writing.
However, in the ancient Shinto concept of "Naka Ima," there is no flow of time. In other words, when you write a manuscript or touch your fountain pen to the paper, that moment is "Naka Ima". The "moment" and "momentary" are synonymous.
To give you an idea of how fast a "moment" is, Japan has a unit of measurement for numbers. One hour is 60 minutes. The word "minute" is read as "bu," which applies not only to time but also to money. In the old days, a peddler in Edo (Tokyo) used to say, "I will not lose even a minute or a millimeter. The sixtieth part is the "ko," and the seventeenth part is the "moment. The seventeenth is the moment. Since the finger before the moment is the finger, the speed of one-sixtieth of the finger-pounding sound is called a "moment". In other words, to put it simply, "Naka Ima" means "to turn your body and mind to what you need to do at that moment without thinking about anything else, and to move first. In Aikido, this is called "directing your Ki. If you think, "This is too much trouble," it will not become a moment. Even if someone says something unpleasant to you, you should smile at that moment. In "that moment," do not think about anything, but "move first.”
Your facial expression and body will move at one-sixtieth the speed of a finger-pounding. There is no room for emotion. Not even a moment's pause" is truly the essence of Budo.
Let us live each day with these words in our hearts.
Calligraphy and Aikido: Parallel Techniques
Today, I would like to discuss the parallels between the three script styles found in calligraphy and how they can be applied to the teaching and mastery of Aikido techniques. The first and most common script style is kaisho, also known as block style writing or printing. It is characterized by a clear delineation of stroke order, with all strokes present, forming the radicals that combine to create characters. This style is highly legible and serves as the foundation for printed characters. In Aikido, this is comparable to techniques taught or featured in books using photographs, where each step and transition is clearly articulated through footwork, hand and wrist movements, and body angle direction.
A common challenge students face when performing kaisho is weakness at the beginning and ending of strokes. It may appear as if they are wiping paint on the paper rather than executing a stroke clearly. The three parts of a stroke are known as ki-hitsu (awakening of the brush), sou-hitsu (sending the brush), and shu-hitsu (bringing the brush back together). This can be taught in Aikido by ensuring proper weight transfer and correct step sequencing. Students often struggle with technique fundamentals due to improper weight transfer or incorrect sequence, making their movements awkward and ineffective.
The second script style is gyo-sho or semi-cursive writing. Its main characteristic is the connection of ki-myaku (ki-line) between strokes, weaving them together like a loosely-tied knot. Gyo-sho challenges arise when people move too quickly on curves or use uniform line thickness, which disrupts rhythm and diminishes the character's three-dimensional appearance. In Aikido, gyo-sho involves not allowing an opponent to grab hold while leading them into motion with more fluidity and fewer steps than kaisho. This can be difficult without first mastering kaisho's fundamental steps.
The third style is so-sho, or fully cursive writing, sometimes called grass writing. It is the least legible but most dynamic style. In Aikido, so-sho involves minimal contact with the opponent while leading them into a whirlwind or whirlpool of energy. The throw is executed with little physical contact, also known as throwing with ki. However, without understanding and mastering the fundamentals of kaisho and gyo-sho, executing so-sho techniques becomes nearly impossible.
These three stages should be taught separately and their meanings clearly distinguished. In kaisho, movements are similar to a dragonfly's hovering and darting motion; in gyo-sho, they resemble a butterfly weaving in and out; and in so-sho, they can be compared to a bird swooping down and changing direction quickly. Just as kaisho represents stately walking, gyo- sho is akin to dancing, and so-sho is like flying.
Applying these metaphors to Aikido techniques can help students understand how an opponent is first taken step by step before blending some steps together, eventually leading into an energy dance with minimal body contact but effective execution. These analogies between calligraphy and Aikido can enhance your understanding of both art forms.
Learning and performing Aikido techniques can be both rewarding and beneficial for your overall well-being. To effectively master these skills, follow these steps:
1. Begin by familiarizing yourself with the fundamental principles of Aikido. These include blending with your opponent's energy, maintaining a relaxed posture, and focusing on circular movements.
2. Next, seek out a qualified instructor or join a reputable Aikido dojo to receive proper guidance. This will ensure you're learning the correct techniques and practicing in a safe environment.
3. During your training sessions, pay close attention to your instructor's demonstrations and explanations. Don't hesitate to ask questions or request clarification if needed.
4. Practice each technique slowly and deliberately at first, focusing on proper form and alignment. Gradually increase your speed as you become more comfortable with the movements.
5. Consistently attend classes and practice sessions to build muscle memory and improve your skills over time.
6. Finally, remember that Aikido is a lifelong journey of self- improvement. Embrace its teachings and continue refining your techniques throughout your training journey.
By following these steps, you'll be well on your way to mastering the art of Aikido.
Today, I would like to discuss the parallels between the three script styles found in calligraphy and how they can be applied to the teaching and mastery of Aikido techniques. The first and most common script style is kaisho, also known as block style writing or printing. It is characterized by a clear delineation of stroke order, with all strokes present, forming the radicals that combine to create characters. This style is highly legible and serves as the foundation for printed characters. In Aikido, this is comparable to techniques taught or featured in books using photographs, where each step and transition is clearly articulated through footwork, hand and wrist movements, and body angle direction.
A common challenge students face when performing kaisho is weakness at the beginning and ending of strokes. It may appear as if they are wiping paint on the paper rather than executing a stroke clearly. The three parts of a stroke are known as ki-hitsu (awakening of the brush), sou-hitsu (sending the brush), and shu-hitsu (bringing the brush back together). This can be taught in Aikido by ensuring proper weight transfer and correct step sequencing. Students often struggle with technique fundamentals due to improper weight transfer or incorrect sequence, making their movements awkward and ineffective.
The second script style is gyo-sho or semi-cursive writing. Its main characteristic is the connection of ki-myaku (ki-line) between strokes, weaving them together like a loosely-tied knot. Gyo-sho challenges arise when people move too quickly on curves or use uniform line thickness, which disrupts rhythm and diminishes the character's three-dimensional appearance. In Aikido, gyo-sho involves not allowing an opponent to grab hold while leading them into motion with more fluidity and fewer steps than kaisho. This can be difficult without first mastering kaisho's fundamental steps.
The third style is so-sho, or fully cursive writing, sometimes called grass writing. It is the least legible but most dynamic style. In Aikido, so-sho involves minimal contact with the opponent while leading them into a whirlwind or whirlpool of energy. The throw is executed with little physical contact, also known as throwing with ki. However, without understanding and mastering the fundamentals of kaisho and gyo-sho, executing so-sho techniques becomes nearly impossible.
These three stages should be taught separately and their meanings clearly distinguished. In kaisho, movements are similar to a dragonfly's hovering and darting motion; in gyo-sho, they resemble a butterfly weaving in and out; and in so-sho, they can be compared to a bird swooping down and changing direction quickly. Just as kaisho represents stately walking, gyo- sho is akin to dancing, and so-sho is like flying.
Applying these metaphors to Aikido techniques can help students understand how an opponent is first taken step by step before blending some steps together, eventually leading into an energy dance with minimal body contact but effective execution. These analogies between calligraphy and Aikido can enhance your understanding of both art forms.
Learning and performing Aikido techniques can be both rewarding and beneficial for your overall well-being. To effectively master these skills, follow these steps:
1. Begin by familiarizing yourself with the fundamental principles of Aikido. These include blending with your opponent's energy, maintaining a relaxed posture, and focusing on circular movements.
2. Next, seek out a qualified instructor or join a reputable Aikido dojo to receive proper guidance. This will ensure you're learning the correct techniques and practicing in a safe environment.
3. During your training sessions, pay close attention to your instructor's demonstrations and explanations. Don't hesitate to ask questions or request clarification if needed.
4. Practice each technique slowly and deliberately at first, focusing on proper form and alignment. Gradually increase your speed as you become more comfortable with the movements.
5. Consistently attend classes and practice sessions to build muscle memory and improve your skills over time.
6. Finally, remember that Aikido is a lifelong journey of self- improvement. Embrace its teachings and continue refining your techniques throughout your training journey.
By following these steps, you'll be well on your way to mastering the art of Aikido.