Ancient Wisdom for Modern Life: Five Lessons from Miyamoto Musashi’s ‘Way of the Warrior’
Miyamoto Musashi's lessons about the Way of the Warrior are, in principle, compatible with any field of endeavor, whether in one’s career or personal life.
I’ve studied martial arts on and off since I was about eight. Like many other martial artists, I fell in love with the teachings of Miyamoto Musashi shortly after being introduced to them.
Musashi was a legendary samurai who lived in the 16th and 17th centuries in feudal Japan. The 1939 novel Musashi was wildly popular and is largely responsible for the swordsman’s status as an enduring cultural icon, but its account of his life is almost entirely fictitious. To this day, it’s difficult to sort the truth from the fairy tales, due to the pervasive aura of myth and rumor surrounding Musashi and the esoteric and highly context-sensitive nature of his original writings. The fact that they’re written in an old and difficult-to-translate dialect of Japanese doesn’t help either, although several prominent Musashi scholars, such as Alexander Bennett, have made great strides toward accurate translations.
Musashi wrote several “books” (i.e., scrolls) during his life, the most famous of which, by far, is Gorin-no-sho, the Book of Five Rings. In it, he explains his views on swordsmanship and military tactics as an intellectually developed sixty-something-year-old man and acknowledges that he lacked wisdom and maturity during the first half of his life. Most important, he explores in great detail the fundamental similarities between the “Way of the Warrior” and those of the farmer, the artisan, the merchant, and the carpenter. Although he makes extensive use of metaphors and allegories centered around these professions, he makes clear that the Way of the Warrior is, in principle, compatible with any field of endeavor, whether in one’s career or personal life.
#1: The Earth Scroll
Musashi writes,
In the Earth Scroll, I outline the gist of combat from the standpoint of my school. It is impossible to comprehend the true Way through swordsmanship alone. The expert learns “big things” first and then the smaller details, passing from shallow ground through to the deepest sphere of understanding. To first acquire a firm grounding in the direct and correct Way, I call the opening scroll that of “Earth.”1
Although this excerpt may sound as though Musashi is taking a Platonic approach to metaphysics (treating abstractions as more “real” than particulars), the full context of his writing makes clear that he is not. By “big things” and “smaller details,” he means to distinguish between the abstract principles and concrete techniques of any given skill, and between competence in many skills and mastery of one.
Musashi devotes most of the Earth Scroll to describing the properties of various weapons, specifically their tactical strengths and weaknesses. His aim is to show that, although learning concrete skills is important, one must not lose sight of how those skills ultimately serve one’s overarching goal. He notes that a warrior who is an expert in the use of the yari (spear) but neglects his training with the wakizashi (short sword) will find himself outmatched when fighting in confined spaces and will fall to his opponent.
The critical error such a student commits is that he loses sight of the essential reason for training with weapons at all: to defeat one’s enemies. When, in a narrow hallway, he encounters an opponent who has mastered the wakizashi, the student’s endless hours of practice with the yari will count for nothing; he will lose his life because he has elevated the “smaller details” (mastery of the yari) over the “big things” (familiarity with the wakizashi and with all of the other tools and fundamentals of combat).
Our hypothetical student has ignored the big picture and instead has focused narrowly on only one aspect. He has failed to take an integrated approach to warfare and thus has failed to train accordingly. The broad skill of “combat” subsumes many different skills other than the masterful use of particular weapons: footwork, general physical fitness, reflex training, tactical theory, psychological conditioning, and many more. He will never master the Way of the warrior until and unless he commits to understand and practice all of these skills and to integrate them with one another.
So it is with virtually any challenge we may want to undertake today; very few (if any) fields of endeavor require the mastery of only one skill. Take writing, for instance—freelance writing in particular. I’ve been a freelance writer since 2008, and I regularly visit message boards where new writers ask for advice on making a living as a freelancer. The majority of them tell similar stories that go something like this:
I’ve been writing for content mills (low-pay, high-volume agencies) for two years now, and I can’t seem to get ahead. I’ve learned a lot about writing, and I’m much better than when I started. But every time I try to break away from the content mills, nobody will hire me. I’m consistently turned down or ignored by better, higher-paying clients, even though the quality of my writing exceeds most of what’s on their site right now.
When pressed, these new freelancers usually admit that they know little or nothing about marketing, pitching, negotiating, using content management systems, accounting, or most of the other skills essential to success in this field. In effect, they have spent all of their time training with the yari but have neglected the wakizashi, their footwork, general fitness training, and everything else. Those who commit to study and understand these other skills typically become successful over time; those who do not almost always stagnate or fail.
The Earth Scroll indicates the importance of this lesson: Mastery of any one skill, no matter how broad or narrow, is rooted in familiarity with all of its constituent parts.
#2: The Water Scroll
The attributes of water represent the essence of the mind. Be a container square or round, water adjusts its form to fit the shape of the container. . . . The mindset in the Way of combat must be no different from one’s normal state of mind. In the course of your daily life, and when engaged in strategy, there should be no change whatsoever in your outlook. Your mind should be expansive and direct, devoid of tension, but not at all casual. Keep your mind centered, not leaning too much to one side, swaying serenely and freely so that it does not come to a standstill in moments of change.2
Whereas the Earth Scroll shows that particular techniques and strategies must be integrated with others and prioritized with reference to one’s goals, the Water Scroll examines those techniques themselves. In it, Musashi goes into great detail about the ways in which a warrior should stand during battle, as well as how he should position his head, hold his weapon, and move his feet. To be sure, the Water Scroll is the most esoteric of the five, but it does offer some general wisdom that non-martial artists may find useful. Its section about the “Gaze in Strategy” is particularly thought provoking:
One’s gaze should be expansive and far-reaching. This is the dual gaze of “looking in” (kan) and “looking at” (ken). The gaze for “looking in” is intense whereas that for “looking at” is gentle. It is of utmost importance for a warrior to see distant things as if they were close and close things as if they were distant. The warrior must know the enemy’s sword without even seeing it. This is critical in combat and must be practiced attentively. . . . It is vital to be able to see both sides without needing to move your eyes.3
In this passage, “looking in” and “looking at” refer to your focused and peripheral vision, respectively. Most people rely almost exclusively on their focused vision, which covers an arc of about 90 degrees. But by training yourself to use your peripheral vision more actively, you will find that you can more accurately see things within a range of nearly 180 degrees.4
The usefulness of broadening your vision extends beyond your physical sense of sight. When presented with a problem, we often become fixated on a small number of possible solutions—those that are most obvious or seem most likely to work, or those that have worked for similar situations in the past. However, the number of possible solutions often is many times greater than we initially realize.
For instance, when I first started my dog training business in 2015, I struggled to advertise it effectively. Every marketing “expert” I consulted had the same general advice to offer: Rely primarily on digital marketing, particularly social media. I spent a great deal of time and money competing for customers on the Internet, to little effect.
After a few months, I stopped to consider whether I might be missing a simpler solution. I reflected on the nature of my business and recalled that I valued the quality of my clients over their quantity. I wanted to connect with people who would take their dog training sessions seriously and would be willing to pay my higher-than-average rates for excellent service. I completely stopped marketing myself on the Internet. Instead, I drove all over town and introduced myself, in person, to owners and employees of pet stores, boarding facilities, and veterinary offices—anything related to pet services.
It worked magnificently. Professionals in related industries were able to see my enthusiasm face-to-face and gauge my expertise in real time. I quickly landed several high-quality clients, and since then, word-of-mouth advertising has proven to be far more effective for me than digital marketing.
The Water Scroll indicates the importance of this lesson: Tunnel vision is death, both in battle and in everyday pursuits. When you encounter adversity, step back and broaden your vision—try to see options that others can’t. Seek out the simplest and most natural path to your goal, as water fills the shape of its container.
#3: The Fire Scroll
Fire becomes big or small and epitomizes a mind of heated ferocity. That is why I write of war in this scroll. . . . What I write in the Fire Scroll are of things that transpire in an instant. Therefore, it is critical in combat training that the warrior accustoms himself to always maintaining a steadfast spirit.5
As Musashi reiterates throughout his writing, in combat, victory and defeat usually are decided within a fraction of a second. But when a warrior strikes down another with a single cut, far more than the cut itself has transpired. Achieving a decisive victory requires a great deal of preparation and foresight, whether on or off the battlefield.
The Fire Scroll focuses on the importance of positioning and timing in all things. To a large extent, a warrior wins or loses a battle long before he ever meets his opponent; the amount and quality of training and preparation that he has undertaken beforehand is, by far, the most significant predictor of his success or failure. Once the battle begins, each combatant inevitably will present various opportunities for his opponent to claim victory—but only a warrior who has spent years relentlessly training himself to instantly recognize and skillfully react to those opportunities will be able to use them to his advantage.
In modern life, we should carefully consider whether we are ready to confront particular challenges. It is not necessarily shameful to admit that we aren’t yet the person we need to be in order to achieve the goals most important to us. In fact, it is a hallmark of wisdom to recognize when we are ill prepared and to commit to bettering ourselves so that we might eventually rise to the challenge. As Musashi knew, cold steel cannot be forged into a blade—it must be heated before it can be shaped.
My current in-progress novel is a clear example of this principle. I began writing it five years ago. About fifty thousand words in, I realized an unpleasant truth: It was a story I wanted to tell but wasn’t yet ready to write. The plot is complex, as are the five main protagonists who share roughly equal screen time. I had completed a far simpler novel several years earlier, but I had more to learn about the mechanics of writing good fiction before I could do this new project properly.
I shelved my second novel for four years and worked on honing my fiction-writing skills during that time. I had an enormous amount of ground to cover, but today, I’m a far better fiction writer for having put in that effort. Only now am I ready to finish what I started years ago.
The Fire Scroll indicates the importance of this lesson: To achieve victory, you must be proactive, not reactive. Think carefully about the kind of person you will need to be and the sorts of things you must know in order to achieve your long-range goals. Develop yourself today so that you will be ready for—and worthy of—tomorrow’s opportunities, which may never come again once they’ve passed.
#4: The Wind Scroll
“Wind” is a term [in an old Japanese dialect] that denotes such things as “old trends,” “current trends,” and “trends of such-and-such a [school of martial arts].” In the Wind Scroll I disclose specifics of strategy systems and techniques employed by other schools. It is difficult to understand the self without being acquainted with the customs of others.6
Musashi’s Niten Ichi-ryū school of swordsmanship is regarded by many modern sword masters as superior to most other Asian schools. In Musashi’s (and my) view, the reason for its effectiveness is simple: its focus on understanding the principles of combat instead of on endless repetition of particular techniques (see the Earth Scroll). In Musashi’s time, the vast majority of martial art styles favored certain weapons and techniques over others. One such school trained almost exclusively with the ōdachi, a heavy sword with a blade often measuring four feet or longer.
As Musashi points out in the Wind Scroll, a warrior who fights exclusively with an ōdachi will be at a severe disadvantage in many situations. The weapon is simply too long, heavy, and slow to be effective indoors, against multiple opponents, or against a single, highly agile opponent. By appraising rival schools’ techniques through the lens of what is and is not compatible with the fundamental goal of combat—to win—Musashi was able both to identify his enemies’ critical weaknesses and to enhance his own skills by adopting some of their techniques for use in specific situations.
To couch the point in plainer language: Study other people’s behaviors, techniques, and strategies while avoiding the mindset that you must adopt one particular system wholesale. Experiment with ideas and habits that seem likely to be effective at achieving your rational values, and discard those that don’t produce desirable results.
I took a blacksmithing class in college. For my final project, I chose to craft a knife, and I wanted it to be sharp, sturdy, and beautiful. I had a problem, though: I wanted the blade to have a particular sort of sheen, but achieving that look with my novice skills and with the tools available required using a technique known as stock removal, which (at least in beginner blacksmithing classes) generally is considered to be incompatible with heat treating, the preferred method for strengthening blades.
After thinking about the problem for several days, I proposed a solution to my teacher: I could heat-treat the steel between two phases of stock removal. He pointed out that it would be difficult to push through the many hours of tedious, exhausting effort required to shape the blade after it had been heat-treated, and he recommended that I not attempt it.
I politely rejected his advice, committed to my plan, and showed up on evenings and weekends to painstakingly shape the blade I had in mind. The work progressed with agonizing slowness, and it made my arms, neck, and shoulders ache fiercely, but I finished the knife one day before it was due. It was strong and looked gorgeous, considering my novice status.
The Wind Scroll indicates the importance of this lesson: Other people, and their thoughts and strategies, can be valuable resources for achieving your own goals, but you needn’t accept or reject their methods wholesale. Never be afraid to mix and match strategies—or to invent new ones.
#5: The Ether Scroll
The fifth is the Ether Scroll. . . . Having comprehended the truth of the Way, you can then let it go. You will find liberation in the Way of combat strategy and naturally attain a marvelous capacity to know the most rational rhythm for every movement. Your strike will manifest on its own, and hit the target on its own. All this represents the Way of the Ether.7
Unfortunately, Musashi died before he finished writing the Ether Scroll, leaving only a few pages for his successor to elaborate on. Nonetheless, it’s clear that its focus is on the importance of integration and automatization. Musashi refers to several harmonious, interdependent processes that include muscle memory and lightning-fast decision making—he does not endorse “going through the motions” without conscious thought.
When first practicing new skills or behaviors, we inevitably are awkward and imprecise. We may even feel embarrassed or stoical at our own seeming ineptitude, especially if others are watching. Musashi held that the true Way is to embrace and enjoy this phase of learning, as it is an unavoidable stepping-stone on the path to mastery. He reasoned that because you cannot master a skill or perfect a habit instantly, it is counterproductive to allow frustration over mistakes to erode your passion.
He goes on to describe the Ether as the state of total mastery in which you so thoroughly understand both the principles and the techniques of a skill that you can execute it flawlessly, seemingly without thought or effort.
I wish to emphasize “seemingly” here, as thought and effort always are involved in the execution of any skill, habit, or behavior, though the nature of the thought process may vary. You may act subconsciously in some cases, but subconscious actions are not involuntary. Such subconscious behaviors are initiated or modified in the conscious mind, and after sufficient, active repetition, they become automatic processes. Once internalized, their constituent steps are executed so quickly that the process often unfolds before your conscious mind has a chance to participate.
The main point of the incomplete Ether Scroll appears to be that in order to master any given field of endeavor, one must first master and integrate the techniques and thought processes described in the Earth, Water, Fire, and Wind Scrolls. Among the last words Musashi wrote before he died were:
The warrior must scrupulously learn by heart the Way of combat strategy and thoroughly study other martial arts without forgoing any aspect related to the practice of the warrior’s Way. He must seek to put the Way into practice each hour of each day without tiring or losing focus. . . . He must recognize that the true Ether is where all the clouds of confusion have completely lifted, leaving not a trace of haziness.8
Here and elsewhere, he refers to a pristinely confident, fully integrated state of mind that can be attained only through rigorous devotion to one’s chosen pursuits, which in turn requires unwavering allegiance to reality itself—to understanding its nature and acting in harmony with its laws. Such constant discipline and vigilance may seem exhausting and unsustainable—and they would be, if not for the human capacity for automatization, which has a tremendous power to make enormously complex physical and mental processes comparatively easy with repeated practice.
When you encounter hardship, persist. Practice your techniques in harmony with the rational principles governing them—always with reference to your purpose. Ensure that you understand why you want something and experiment boldly with how best to achieve it. Whether you want to learn to build custom cars, to create beautiful art, or to understand a new and complex set of ideas, it does get easier over time, provided you discipline yourself to practice regularly and in a manner consistent with the nature of your goal. Masters are not born—they are simply beginners who never quit.
Miyamoto Musashi is on my “top ten” list of people whose ideas have dramatically improved my life. I think that if you read his works and reflect carefully on their myriad implications and applications to modern life, you’ll enjoy similar results.