The Four Weaknesses of the Heart (四 戒)

When speaking of the “weaknesses of the heart” what is meant are the road blocks of concentration that hinder our ability to perform kendo at optimal levels. These are very natural barriers, especially among beginners that nonetheless we must attempt to overcome to improve.

Anyone who has ever watched their teachers in a match, or any high level kendo for that matter can say confidently that those who practice kendo at a high level never seem to be frustrated or surprised in their matches. There is a constant aura of calm in the way they move, react, provoke and attack. Whatever their opponent throws at them is met with the same fluidness of reaction. Sometimes it even seems as though the entire match is choreographed. In reality practitioners who perform at this level have overcome the over thinking in their minds that can slow down their performance.

The four weaknesses of the heart are as follows:

Astonishment

Fear

Doubt

Hesitation

Many times in my own practice I’ve been criticized for hesitating. The words “don’t hesitate, just move” can be very frustrating, perhaps more so for their truth. Every second you spend thinking about executing a move or block or counter is a second your opponent has over you.

In part, the easiest way to move past this is simple muscle memory. The more you train your body to move on its own, guided by subtle queues from your opponent, the less you will find yourself tripping over your own feet in indecision.

Fear is another large bump in the kendo path and it is also in my opinion, the most diverse weakness. Fear in kendo can take many forms; a fear of being hurt, a fear of hurting ones opponent, a fear of being hit, a fear of failure, even a fear of success.

I think the most important weapon we have against the weakness of fear is trust. We must trust our teachers to guide us appropriately, we must trust our opponents to treat us respectfully and without malice, we must trust the judges to be as fair as possible, we must trust our equipment to protect us and our bodies to serve us and we must trust our fellows to support us through success and failure, weakness and strength.

When we can allow ourselves to see that how we grow isn’t a burden entirely on our shoulders, we can relax and without fear, practice kendo with the thought “Today I will do the best at what I can, because I can do no more than what I am able. Tomorrow I will be able to do a little more”.

In this regard, a beginner facing a godan in practice has little hope of winning. However, because this is natural, the beginner should not feel fear. Instead, he should trust that the godan will treat him fairly, will not hurt or ridicule him for a lack of skill, and will give him calm, patient advice, either in practice or in words.

Doubt factors in very closely with fear. The expression “You only fail if you don’t try” can apply here. As kendo is a life long pursuit, it’s often tempting to look at those who have gone before us and tell ourselves that we’ll never be able to reach those levels. Especially since kendo seems to have many plateaus of skill increase, and at times it seems even skill regression. When we doubt if we’ll be able to reach a certain height, or pass a test, or win a match we are giving in to an unnecessary fear. This doubt is neither here nor there. In Japanese, it’s 関係ない(kankeinai). It has no connection with practicing kendo. What’s important is that you either do kendo or you don’t do kendo. If you are performing the best that you can, then whether you succeed or fail is not something that should be thought about.

Astonishment, at least from my experience is the hardest of the weaknesses to overcome. Whether I’m feeling my best or my worst in kendo, the unexpected can rattle me and my confidence and subsequently completely dismantle my game.

An early example I can draw from experience is my very first test for ikkyu. I felt confident, I felt that I performed well and so when I failed the shock of it completely crushed what bit of kendo self esteem I’d built up. It made me less willing to test, to participate in tournaments or to take practice with the same seriousness I had in the past. If I was just going to fail anyway, what was the point in trying so hard?

Of course, looking back now I can see that this was an entirely wrong way to look at it. The surprise of that failure in my first big undertaking in kendo was simply more than I was prepared for at the time. I realize that what I should have done was accept the failure not as a road block but as another stone in the path.

Astonishment can take us in failure and success. If our opponent suddenly surges through our defenses, should we freeze and in disheartenment let him over take us? Conversely, if we happen to score a victory ourselves, particularly on a strong opponent, should we revel in the success and forget the length of the road we haven’t yet traveled?

All together, the key to defeating the four weaknesses of the heart is a “no mindedness” or “empty mindedness” that is sometimes referred to. I think, however, that instead of an empty mind, the visual should be “single mindedness”. That is to say, a mind focused on a single moment, not preoccupied by success or failure, or skill or complex strategy. Focus on the challenge before you and the way you can overcome it, not the road behind, or ahead.