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Do not react ... respond.
Reaction is what we do without thinking and to draw a weapon without thinking is irresponsible. It is drawing without aim and with only a primal instinct to strike: to train yourself to do this is highly irresponsible. Often terrible in consequence.
Response is what we do when we recognize a circumstance and have - hopefully through training and discipline - been prepared to meet it.
Discipline is - in part - a mixture of the mindfulness of all things we do, the knowledge of right-action and wrong-action, the wisdom to discern one from the other and the intent to endeavor to always do right.
We make choices. We enact our intention. But one should never cut without clear intention and shouldn't even draw without clear intention. The old myth that a sword, once drawn, can not be re-sheathed without drawing blood comes from a poorly, loosely and improperly transliterated maxim that states that if you draw a sword, it should only be because you have a clear intention of why you are doing so, be it for training, defense, maintenance or even outright murder. There needs to be forethought, intention and - one hopes - the guidance of clear moral and ethical teachings. The taking of life is a serious business and doing so is a serious and irreversible situation that requires clear thinking. Reaction does not allow for this.
Reacting and striking without thought are both contrary to every lesson of serious sword work. The Zen in the Draw is not about reactionary strikes or lightning fast reflexes. It is about the oneness - the wholeness - experienced when the sword ceases to be a thing apart, but rather, partakes in the exercise with you. It is about being free from distractions. It is about the mindfulness and unity of every fluid thing in the technique and about discovering how to flow one technique into the next ... Mindfulness ... this is so fundamental a thing and yet sometimes, the most difficult to ingrain in new students. Gentle Mindfulness is the beauty of sword work. I am far more impressed with the man who can cut with unbelievable ease than by the man who can cut with unbelievable speed.
I teach that power follows speed and speed follows precision. Practice smooth, comfortable precision and speed develops as a natural result. Power, then, becomes the natural byproduct of speed when precision is the foundation ... first precision, then speed, then power comes without effort. However, there is a pertinent truth hidden in here as well: precision must be built with mindfulness and decisiveness of action. We must be fully aware of the very fluidity of our cut in order to develop precision-at-ease. Lightning speed without need for thought is contrary to this.
In the end, yes ... we practice to become more fluid and natural in our sword work in an effort to make that sword work itself more natural and dynamic. We practice the draw and the cut and all else that accompanies them so as to be more at ease with the weapon and you are right: there is an intrinsic beauty in it.
But in all of it, there is reciprocation between swordsman and sword. They should be partners and in some ways, when a swordsman is no longer wielding the sword but moving with it ... when he is no longer cutting with the sword, but cutting with his intention and inviting the sword along for the trip ... this is when a relationship develops that will transcend theoretical "mastery" of swordsmanship. Mastery, after all, implies servitude and supremacy and there is so much more beauty to be experienced in partnership.
More importantly to the topic, however, is the concept that when a swordsman no longer has to resort to reaction, but may instead respond fluidly and at his ease, then he is working with the sword, not using the sword and this is so much more effective.
Many tragedies have been spawned by lightning-fast reactions because the one reacting is doing just that ... acting on impulse (even if a well-honed impulse) that leaves no option for a decision to be made.
Sidebar thought: To be the best warrior on the field, do not seek to be the best at delivering the cut. Seek, rather, to be the worst at receiving the cut.
_________________ Dimytri Komanatov - В гостя́х хорошо́, а до́ма лу́чше
When the bow is bent and the sword is drawn, it is not to die, but to die well.
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