The following story appears in Daisetz Suzuki's Zen and Japanese Culture. It is a bit of a long read (grab a cup of beverage as needed), but to me it demonstrates the power of an individual dedicated to doing their best, even in a world where they simply do not fit in, when faced with death. It also, to my mind, demonstrates the power of fearlessness in the face of bullies.
(The text is drawn from Internet Archive. Due to the time printed, certain anachronisms are present: Yedo for Edo (Tokyo), Yama-no-uchi for Yamaouchi, Toku-gawa for Tokugawa.)
The Teaman and the Ruffian
What follows is the story of a teaman who had to assume the role
of a swordsman and fight with a ruffian. The teaman generally does
not know anything about swordplay and cannot be a match in any sense
of the word for anybody who carries a sword. His is a peaceful
profession. The story gives us an idea of what a man can do with a
sword even when he has never had any technical training, if only his
mind is made up to go through the business at the risk of his life.
Here is another illustration demonstrating the value of
resolute-mindedness leading up to the transcendence of life and
death.
Toward the end of the seventeenth century, Lord Yama-no-uchi, of the province of Tosa,
wanted to take his teamaster along with him on
his official trip to Yedo, the seat of the Toku-gawa Shogunate. The teamaster was not
where he was well known and had many good friends. In Yedo he would most
likely get into trouble with ruffians, resulting not only in his own disgrace but in his lord’s.
The trip would be a most risky adventure, and he had no desire to undertake it.
inclined to accompany him, for in the first place he was not of the samurai rank
and knew that Yedo was not a quiet and congenial place like Tosa,
The lord, however, was insistent and would not listen to the
remonstrance of the teamaster; for this man was really great in his
profession, and it was probable that the lord harbored the secret
desire to show him off among his friends and colleagues. Not able to
resist further the lord’s earnest request, which was in fact a
command, the master put off his teaman’s garment and dressed
himself as one of the samurai, carrying two swords.
While staying in Yedo, the teamaster was mostly confined in his
lord’s house. One day the lord gave him permission to go out and do
some sight-seeing. Attired as a samurai, he visited Uyeno by the
Shinohazu pond, where he espied an evil-looking samurai resting on a
stone. He did not like the looks of this man. But finding no way to
avoid him, the teaman went on. The man politely addressed him: “As
I observe, you are a samurai of Tosa, and I should consider it a
great honor if you permit me to try my skill in swordplay with you.”
The teaman of Tosa from the beginning of his trip had been
apprehensive of such an encounter. Now, standing face to face with a
ronin of the worst kind, he did not know what to do. But he answered
honestly: “I am not a regular samurai, though so dressed; I am a
teamaster, and as to the art of swordplay I am not at all prepared to
be your opponent.” But as the real motive of the ronin was to
extort money from the victim, of whose weakness he was now fully
convinced, he pressed the idea even more strongly on the teaman of
Tosa.
Finding it impossible to escape the evil-designing ronin, the
teaman made up his mind to fall under the enemy’s sword. But he did
not wish to die an ignominious death that would surely reflect on the
honor of his lord of Tosa. Suddenly he remembered that a few minutes
before he had passed by a swordsman’s training school near Uyeno
park, and he thought he would go and ask the master about the proper
use of the sword on such occasions and also as to how he should
honorably meet an inevitable death. He said to the ronin, “If you
insist so much we will try our skill in swordsmanship. But as I am
now on my master’s errand, I must make my report first. It will
take some time before I come back to meet you here. You must give me
that much time.”
The ronin agreed. So the teaman hastened to the training school
referred to before and made a most urgent request to see the master.
The gatekeeper was somewhat reluctant to acquiesce because the
visitor carried no introductory letter. But when he noticed the
seriousness of the man’s desire, which was betrayed in his every
word and in his every movement, he decided to take him to the master.
The master quietly listened to the teaman, who told him the whole
story and most earnestly expressed his wish to die as befitted a
samurai. The swordsman said, ‘'The pupils who come to me invariably
want to know how to use the sword, and not how to die. You are really
a unique example. But before I teach you the art of dying, kindly
serve me a cup of tea, as you say you are a teaman.”
The teaman of Tosa was only too glad to make tea for him, because this was in all
likelihood the last chance for him to practice his art of tea to his
heart’s content. The swordsman closely watched the teaman as the
latter was engaged in the performance of the art. Forgetting all
about his approaching tragedy, the teaman serenely proceeded to
prepare tea. He went through all the stages of the art as if this
were the only business that concerned him most seriously under the
sun at that very moment.
The swordsman was deeply impressed with the
teaman's concentrated state of mind, from which all the superficial
stirrings of ordinary consciousness were swept away. He struck his
own knee, a sign of hearty approval, and exclaimed, “There you are!
No need for you to learn the art of death! The state of mind in which
you are now is enough for you to cope with any swordsman. When you
see your ronin outcast, go on this way: First, think you are going to
serve tea for a guest. Courteously salute him, apologizing for the
delay, and tell him that you are now ready for the contest. Take off
your haori [outer coat], fold it up carefully, and then put your fan
on it just as you do when you are at work. Now bind your head with
the tenugui [corresponding to a towel], tie your sleeves up with the
string, and gather up your hakama [skirt]. You are now prepared for
the business that is to start immediately. Draw your sword, lift it
high up over your head, in full readiness to strike down the
opponent, and, closing your eyes, collect your thoughts for a combat.
When you hear him give a yell, strike him with your sword. It will
probably end in a mutual slaying.” The teaman thanked the master
for his instructions and went back to the place where he had promised
to meet the combatant.
He scrupulously followed the advice given by the sword-master with
the same attitude of mind as when he was serving tea for his friends.
When, boldly standing before the ronin, he raised his sword, the
ronin saw an altogether different personality before him. He had no
chance to give a yell, for he did not know where and how to attack
the teaman, who now appeared to him as an embodiment of fearlessness,
that is, of the Unconscious. Instead of advancing toward the
opponent, the ronin retreated step by step, finally crying, “I’m
done, I’m done!” And, throwing up his sword, he prostrated
himself on the ground and pitifully asked the teaman’s pardon for
his rude request, and then he hurriedly left the field.
