"I'm concerned with the spiritual aspect," Mr. Trąba started to giggle
unexpectedly and in a very peculiar manner. "I'm concerned with the
spiritual aspect, plus practice, of course. Training is the way of
life. Moreover, one mustn't forget that this," Mr Trąba raised the
crossbow to his shoulder, "is the weapon of the ancient Chinese. And
the ancient Chinese say that when you shoot at your target, you must
free yourself from trivial thoughts of the necessity of hitting it. The
shot must have a spiritual scope, whereas the shooter must remain in
intense tension until the shot falls upon the target like a ripe fruit
falling, like snow from a bamboo leaf..."
(H)
This connects with several things I've been thinking about.
ReplyDeleteFirst, it is significant that Mr. Trąba instructs the student to remain in the intensity of tension/concentration until the shot falls upon the target. It is a temporary constriction or contraction of consciousness, focused upon the target, to the exclusion of everything else the bowman may be thinking about, especially the thoughts that recognize the triviality of hitting the target. Hitting the target must become, momentarily, the most important thing in the world; but of course, the student would want to remain in this state after the task is accomplished (in fact, this is what Western psychology would label as a fixation, neurosis, or compulsion). But what Mr. Trąba is emphasizing is a flexibility of consciousness, the ability to constrict one's awareness so intensely as to be consumed by the target and nothing but the target, but to also be able to expand back to "normal," whatever that is, after the task is accomplished.
Second, this passage reminds me of the Monazaemon quote, in particular the idea that this target, for the moment, becomes the center of the universe, the place upon which the thrush rests, the still point. As modern physics tells us, the theory of relativity holds that because all motion is relative, any point in space/time can be considered the center, the still point, of the universe. In a sense, to the thrush this rock may be just as suitable a place to rest as any other rock, just as for the bowman, this target must become just as a suitable a place to focus his consciousness as anything else. And the thoughts that recognize the relative triviality of the necessity of hitting it can be ignored, excluded from awareness.
And finally, though I know very little about the mechanisms of this process, it seems that the practice described above culminates in becoming the arrow and the target. I remember my basketball coach telling me how to make my jump shot better--focus, focus on the shot, become the shot. For if one can focus that intensely, to the exclusion of everything else vying for attention, what is preventing one's awareness from becoming, or becoming one with, the intensely narrowed object of awareness?
(J)
Great expansion of these ideas. I will keep them with me while I think about this idea some more.
ReplyDeleteOne thought that I had:
Could the "target" be metaphysical?
(H)
Yes, I think the target could be metaphysical. In fact, the instruction to free oneself from thoughts of the target's necessity or triviality seems to open up the possibility for the target to be metaphysical, even insubstantial.
DeleteIn a sense, a koan could be such a target, no?
(J)
I would call a koan a "non-target". I'll further this later.
ReplyDeleteWhat I was thinking was more concrete, everyday things. "I want to be like ______." "I want to do ______ more." "I don't want to get carried away when ______ happens."
Theories of the self so to speak. Qualities of personality, those types of things. The types of things (i.e., improvements) we strive for in our lives.
(H)