"The calm center of ourselves, that place that Watches without judging, is the destination of our sword journey"
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The Tao Teh Ching of the sword

11/24/2017

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6

The mysterious Yin is always there
Like a Mother it births all things
Though it is nearly always hidden
It is always at hand

In swordsmanship, there are many levels of understanding.  The obvious aspects of the art are nearly overwhelming to consider: choreography of forms, flashing blades, dangerous and skilled opponents, etc.  Even if we narrow our examination to the moment of conflict between opponents, it is compelling to focus on the swords, their movements, and the strategic positioning of the wielders.  But as discussed in Chapter 2, each of these circumstances has both Yin and Yang aspects.  If we pay attention only to the obvious aspects, we are missing a lot of what it going on. These Yin (or less obvious) aspects of the sword are every bit as important as the more obvious Yang aspects.  They can actually have physical effects that are actually able to be perceived and used by the serious student of the sword. By looking beyond the surface appearances, we gain a deeper understanding of what is going on.
For the sword to move to one place, it necessarily must move away from another.  If we could view the blade moving through the air and perceive the changes in air pressure, we would see the air pressure increase in front of the blade, and decrease behind it as it vacates that space.  Nature naturally and seamlessly fills a vacuum.  Areas of low pressure are filled, while areas of high pressure are dispersed, all without deliberation or hesitation.  By appreciating even the very basic nature of the sword moving through air in this fashion, we begin to understand a very basic operation of the universe, and get a very clear demonstration of Yin Yang in dynamic interplay.
The Taoist ideal is one of accord with Nature, so that we do what is natural without struggling and fighting against the world.  Like being in a river with a strong current, we can’t change the current or swim against it directly; rather we need to understand how the currents are flowing and work with the current.  Nature is what ‘does itself’, is ‘self so’, or ‘self arising’.  As serious students of the sword, we also aspire to this conception of what is natural.  The highest expression of sword skill is when the techniques seem to ‘do themselves’, or when they ‘just happen’.  If we accept this idea, then we begin to try and return our movements with the sword to those that are as Natural as possible.  The problem is, of course, how to identify ways to be Natural.  After all, if we deliberately make a movement, is it Natural anymore?  
Let’s return to the sword moving through the air, and the pressure changes that it creates.  If we observe how nature operates under these conditions, we see that it fills the vacated spaces.  If we take this example as inspiration and attempt to do the same, to fill the spaces vacated by the opponent’s sword, new realms of potential techniques are instantly available to us.  
If we think of flowing into areas that are empty, we are almost physically drawn into those places. In the example of the sword moving through the air, the air that fills the area of low pressure behind the blade as it moves is actually sucked into that spot.  By participating in this basic physical phenomenon that is already happening, the opponent’s movements will naturally draw us into the empty spaces, the yin spaces, and put us exactly where they don’t want us to be.  
If we think of the act of the opponent cutting at us with a sword, the opponent’s mind is completely occupied by the front edge of the sword.  They have no thought or even knowledge of the dynamic relationships forming at the back of their blade.  For them, it’s all about the edge, and trying to get it to contact our body.  If we ignore this obvious (yang) aspect of their attack, and instead appreciate the equally important ‘hidden’ (yin) aspects of the attack, we begin to be able to work with the opponent in ways that they don’t even know exist, much less can hope to understand in the quick time frame of a sword contest. More importantly, we also begin to appreciate the inseparability of yin and yang.   There is no way to move the sword toward something without moving it away from somewhere else.  By creating yang, we create yin.  If we move to there, we move from here.  While this doesn’t necessarily require changing our techniques and forms, it widens our appreciation of how those forms and techniques might actually be working.  

Practical Exercises:
  1. Perform your usual paired drills or forms.  After warming up and being comfortable with the choreography, start to work through the same drill or form but try to avoid the opponent’s sword without changing any other aspect of your techniques.  Even in the case of strong blocks, examine how they can lead to entering the yin areas left open by the movements of the opponent.
  2. Imagine the air currents made by every move the opponent makes.   Working slowly at first, start to explore how those currents might draw you into the opponent’s openings.  Instead of leaping into their openings, calmly ride the current.
  3. Occasionally, rather than trying to be powerful, fast and skilled, imagine yourself like smoke, which fills all available spaces, needing no power to do so.  Observe the results.  Light a stick of incense in a still room near a sunny window.  Pass your sword through the smoke and observe the relationships that appear..
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The Swordsman's Tao Teh Ching

11/3/2017

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1
It IS, whether named or not
And no name can fully describe it, though we call it Tao
Without names it is the Whole, the formless
Named, it is the ten thousand things, the forms
Form and formless, neither and both,
Mystery upon mystery, the gate of perception.

“It IS, whether named or not”
The nature of swordsmanship can only ever be partially described.  Only those who have inquired deeply have felt all words drop away and felt the inadequacy of the usual distinctions applied to the sword and its use.  Even the preference of the object we call a sword is a limiting distinction that leaves us at a disadvantage when circumstance calls for a bow, or spear, or perhaps even a kind word to serve whatever the situation presents to us.   If we had no idea of style or fixed techniques, some would still excel with the sword, because swordsmanship does not necessarily arise from styles and fixed techniques.  Those are only tools to help perceive the principles of swordsmanship in action (and in fact, the principles of the Universe itself), and are meant to be means not ends.  Too often, we confuse our descriptions of reality with the actual reality we are an inextricable participant in, and are correspondingly frustrated when what actually happens doesn’t match what we told ourselves should happen.  Only by accepting the indescribability of what is actually real and being comfortable not having to describe it to ourselves, can we escape the compelling trap of seeing only a self-flattering ghost of the world.  Once we let go and surrender our poorly informed ideas about the world and really look at it for what it Is, without judging what we see, we can become a real part of reality as it happens and begin to see deeply into What’s Going On.  We stop building walls to protect ourselves and instead can reach out and truly Learn what’s around us.  This attitude is critical to the deeper pursuit of swordsmanship.

“And no name can fully describe it, though we call it Tao”

Words are only pale, thin images of the reality of swordsmanship.  A list of techniques can hardly be confused with the deepest mysteries of sword, but still people get stuck in certain forms and expressions of swordsmanship.  A description of a sword fight can hardly reflect the real workings of one’s mind and body when life and death are finely balanced.  Even a well-trained practical knowledge of the entire body of technique found in any of the venerable lineages is no guarantee of Understanding.  What arises from that empty moment before the first strike comes is something much greater than mere technique, and yet it is far more simple and quiet than the most refined forms of the Masters.  Those styles that keep secret techniques and forms for their highest levels of achievement have fundamentally misunderstood the progression towards embodied principles.  The adept should be actively dropping and abandoning the study of fixed technique as they progress, beginning finally to trust what they’ve learned and letting the principles express themselves spontaneously and appropriately to the situation.

“Without names it is the Whole, the formless
Named, it is the ten thousand things, the forms”

If we watch a true Master in action, it is immediately apparent to most that they have penetrated the mysteries of their craft.  We need know nothing of the particulars of their style or method to recognize true understanding of principles being expressed.  In this case we see the completeness of what they’re doing, precisely because we are not blinded by various details and distinctions, which give rise to our own petty judgements.  In a Master, Technique and Principle are in proper relationship with each other; the understanding of Principles generating Techniques appropriate to the particular situation.  To compare this process with speech, long training in technique provides the vocabulary, but deep understanding of principle is the expression of ideas with that vocabulary in a fashion that communicates something more than just words.  

In this case, the “names” are not just labels, but the actual fixed body of techniques and forms that a style uses to distinguish itself from other styles.  By separating ourselves from others, we retreat from Completeness.  If the reality of the universe is Oneness, by pursuing Separateness we are committing to an unnatural course of action, and by doing so, we fight the very fabric of the universe itself with our every action.  Following this course of Separation, we are literally swimming against the current in a swiftly flowing river, which is generally exhausting and frustrating.
​

It should be remembered, however, that without technique of some sort, Principle has nothing with which it can be expressed.  While the Whole of swordsmanship is in reality only what happens at any given moment, to truly excel, one must have developed a vocabulary to effectively express whatever ideas are demanded by the present circumstance.  Principle is useless without the ability to take perceptible action in the world, and that ability is provided by technique.  
To return to our analogy of the conversation, we can express certain ideas with formless sounds, grunts, pointing, or in other non-verbal ways, but this is generally quite a limited way to communicate, especially when the message to be communicated is complex or difficult.  Only with a thorough grasp of our language and the words it uses, can we create poetry, or communicate fine details or nuances.  But we must never forget that our goal in doing so is Communication.  Any language can do that very effectively, though each guides the minds of its speakers accordingly.  We would be fools to think that somehow our language was the only one that Communicates, or that our words are somehow deeper or more meaningful than those of others.  For us, they may be, but not for everyone.  Sometimes we can drop our language entirely and just point at the moon without having to say a thing.  We all know what we’re looking at in that moment, even if our words differ profoundly.

Practical exercise:
  1. Contrast using known techniques against standard attacks with allowing spontaneous responses to arise.  Work slowly.  Use known partner drills but don’t begin a technique, even in your mind, until the attack actually develops.  Pretend your partner’s techniques will be brand new, and that you’ve never seen them before.  What does your body want to do?  What does your training tell you to do?  Is there something else you can try?

  1. Start with closed eyes.  When you open your eyes, have your partner attack immediately without giving you a chance to think.  Try to empty your mind of predictions and planning.  Do not respond with a pre-selected technique; instead try to come up with a fresh response directly related to the attack as it happens in real time.  Trust yourself to open your eyes, see what attack is coming, and respond  appropriately.  Don’t anticipate, but rather be completely open to what your eyes see as they open.  See what techniques create themselves.  See what techniques arise that you have trained extensively.
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    occasional writings on the nature of swordsmanship by various members of the Piercing Cloud clan.

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