Friday, September 10, 2021

The Teaman And The Ronin

 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.

6 comments:

  1. Focus, O mighty Warrior Poet. You lack clarity.

    Consider our Tea Man in the fable: He did not run from a fight that he easily could have. He stood his ground and was prepared to defend it.

    Consider our friend Seneca. He doesn't realize it - but the reason he is in the straights he is in is because he sat on his weapons when he should have used them.

    I suggest that the moral of these two stories together is that everything - right up to and including slavery... is a matter of choice and courage.

    Am I mistaken in any of this?

    And this is why I am at odds with you and Claire. Our sentiments are exactly the same, but I see the other side of this. We have the numbers, and the moral high ground right now, at our fingertips - to put an end to the totalitarianism and the turdies pushing it on us. The value of your sword or sidearm is not necessarily your skill with it - it's value lies in it's deterrent value. And this is the folly I see with yourself and Claire - you're trying to split the difference. Either carry that weapon, practice with it and brandish it when required, or give it away to someone that will. Otherwise you are just posing and posturing.

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    1. Glen, I would in principle agree that the difference between slavery and freedom is courage and choice - except when it is not. History is littered with the free that rose up and got crushed - in my own more or less Northern European gene pool the Irish, Scottish, and Welsh comes to mind. Did they lack the courage of their convictions? The revolutions of 1848 come to mind as well - people rising up for their freedom, and being defeated. On the other hand, I can think of significant revolutions in Eastern Europe in your and my lifetime that largely happened without bloodshed. Did the lack of weapons blunt the freedoms won back by the East Germans, the Czechs and Slovaks, the Poles, the Romanians, the Bulgarians, even the Yugoslavs (before they rather tragically turned on each other)?

      I agree the value of a weapon is as much in its deterrent value as its actually usefulness - The sword being most dangerous when it is in its sheath and so forth. But unless one ultimately wins the hearts and minds of the population - not just the ones on your side of the equation but the undecideds or even one's presumptive foes - one will eventually run out of bullets or lose the ability to cut through exhaustion.

      We are on the same side Glen - but at least from my side (I of course would never speak for a mind such as Claire's), I fear that once the brandishing starts, it ends very badly for everyone involved. That should be, at least in my own view - a very last choice after everything else has been tried. The American Revolution was unique in that it actually did not have significant aftershocks; the 20th Century is much less kind to civil wars.

      The other thought - and it is just a thought - is that I increasingly find myself asking the question "Why preserve it?" Let us assume we go back to the status quo - what status quo are we shooting for? 2010? 1990? 1981? 1960? If it is merely going back to pre-2020 or 2015, ask yourself: Is that a system you want to keep enabling? Or do we just decide to let it collapse of its own weight?

      I point to the quote mentioned from my review of The Benedict Option by author Alastair Macintyre in his book "After Virtue" (I have ordered this to read; really excited to write the review):

      "A crucial point in that earlier history (the fall of the Roman Empire) occurred when men and women of good will turned aside from the task of shoring up the Roman imperium and ceased to identify the continuation of civility and moral community with the maintenance of that imperium. What they set themselves to achieve instead - often not recognizing fully what they were doing - was the construction of new forms of community within which the moral life could be sustained so that both morality and civility might survive the coming ages of barbarism and darkness."

      I guess the question might be "If you are brandishing your weapons, to what end are you brandishing them? The previous status quo or a new system?"

      (And thanks for the comment - It helps me think more!)

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  2. One night, long years ago, our dog sat under my parent's window and barked. It was different than any other she'd every made, and it woke dad up. He sat up in the bed, listening, as a truck crept up to our driveway.... and fired a shot at the house!

    Dad was up and out the door in a flash, the truck went the half mile east, then turned south, probably a Bronco II by the wrap around tail lights.

    Dad blew in and told me, "your mom has the .38, if she won't shoot, take it and use it." He fired up the PD car and zoomed off into the dark to intercept.

    That has stayed with me since that night in 1977. If you are armed and hesitant, you lose. If you are unarmed and bold, you just may win. Righteous indignation has a strength the wicked don't. Considering yourself dead already frees you to do what needs done, and that without worry.

    My fear is that my courage may fail me when I need it most. I don't want to die a thousand deaths by letting down my family or my friends. I think about that now, so I won't have to when...

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    1. STxAR, one of the fundamentals of Iai is that when you make decision - in our case, to draw - act immediately and without hesitation. And the world is full of boldness in the face of a threat that wins (to be fair, it works the other way as well).

      I, too, worry about my courage failing in the moment of need. I can only trust that, if and when that moment comes, I will be given the strength to act accordingly.

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  3. Anonymous3:57 PM

    tl,dr: Don't go to stupid places and do stupid things with stupid people. - Keith

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    1. Keith - It is a pretty overall solid piece of advice. That said, in Edo period Japan, one did not "refuse" one's Lord...

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Comments are welcome (and necessary, for good conversation). If you could take the time to be kind and not practice profanity, it would be appreciated. Thanks for posting!