Rinki Ohen – adaptability to all circumstances

From Jujutsu ken bo zukai hiketsu (1887), one of a number of publications dating from the beginning of the Meiji era, aiming to explain martial arts and related disciplines to a general audience.

 

I have no parents; I make the heavens and the earth my parents. 

I have no home; I make saika tanden my home. 

I have no divine power; I make honesty my divine power.

Thus begins a series of verses that has become quite well known in the martial arts world. It continues with a number of other attributes, including rinki ohen. I first came across them in Michel Random’s book, The Martial Arts: Swordsmanship, Kendo, Aikido, Judo, Karate, published in English in the mid-eighties, but they originally appeared in English in E.J. Harrison’s The Fighting Spirit of Japan, in a chapter on Kiaijutsu, originally published in 1912 (as The Fighting Spirit of Japan and Other Studies), and in a revised form in 1955. Random used Harrison’s translation, more or less – the few changes probably being due to translation into French then back to English. Anyway, you can see them as they appeared in Harrison's book at the bottom of the page

 

Harrison (who began training in jujutsu in 1897, in Yokohama) notes the verses as coming from Kiai-jutsu Sakkatsu Jizai (Kiai-jutsu: the freedom to take and give life) by Kumashiro Hikotarō, published in 1911. There is a copy in the National Diet Library (in Japan) which has been digitised and is online, but wouldn’t you know it, there are three missing chapters, one of which is the one containing the verses. (But if you care to take a look, here it is: https://dl.ndl.go.jp/pid/859889/1/64). The chapter is Kiaijutsu no Gokui (The Essentials/Inner Secrets of Kiaijutsu) and the section is Kiaijutsu no Takusen (Revelations of Kiaijutsu).

Harrison did a good job with his translation. It has a keen sense of poetry and reproduces the feeling, as well as the sense of the original – terse and resonant. Harrison, it should be added, had a good acquaintance with budoka of that era and seems to have had a good ear for the way they spoke. 

 

While Harrison’s translation is good (and I don’t think it could be done much better), it does not really explain the verses. What does it mean to say, ‘I have no parents’, for example? And what does this have to do with kiaijutsu? Is it the statement of a religious recluse, or is there something broader?

And what does all that have to do with shouting anyway?

 

Before we look at that, I will take a small detour, which provides a bit of background and some other verses for comparison. 

 

Some sayings of Takeda Shingen

Takeda Shingen and some of his 24 generals (Utagawa Yoshikazu)

 

As one of the most famous warlords of the sengoku period, Takeda Shingen needs no introduction. The chapter immediately preceding the Revelations (also missing in the National Diet version) was titled Takeda Shingen’s Family Precepts. I found this interesting as reading Harrison’s translation of the Revelations had already reminded me of one of Shingen’s famous sayings: 

 

People are the castle; people are the stone walls; people are the moat; compassion is your ally; hatred is your enemy. 

 

This is also something I came upon many years ago – this time, it was in an English version of one of the Kozure Okami comics (Lone Wolf and Cub). In the story, “The Coming of the Cold”, Itto Ogami is sent on a mission to assassinate the head of the Takeda clan who is secretly and illegally building a castle. Ogami takes the assembled clan members to task for considering waging war defensively, something Takeda Shingen would not have done, reminding them of the remorseless attitude of the Takeda forces in times past. He uses the term Kanrai (the approaching cold – which is the story title) to describe this, but there seems to be no historical association of this with the Takeda.

 

Mission accomplished, Ogami leaves, but standing outside the half-finished castle reflects on Shingen’s saying, as shown in the panel below. Note that the last part is mistranslated. It should be “hatred is an enemy”, not “hatred for your enemies”. The original Japanese quoted Shingen correctly.

Interesting, but these were not the verses that were included in Sakkatsu Jizai. I tracked down another copy and found they were introduced as follows:

 

Below are recorded the precepts of Takeda Shingen for your reference.
Through them, one may glimpse the mindset with which General Kizan cultivated himself.

 

(Kizan is a literary name sometimes used for Shingen.)

 

However, these verses do not belong to him, but to his rival, Uesugi Kenshin. 

Shingen (seated) is displaying admirable composure as Kenshin attacks at the 4th battle of Kawanakajima.

The standard version, which you can see carved into stone if you visit Uesugi Shrine, Yonezawa, differs slightly in one or two verses, but the overall effect is the same. What this gives us, the identity of the writer aside, is indeed a look at the mindset of a formidable general. What it also tells us, is that personal cultivation is an important consideration in Kumashiro’s idea of kiaijutsu. Giving these precepts before ‘The Revelations of Kiaijutsu’ gives the latter extra authority by presenting it as part of a tradition, both in form and in the importance given to spiritual/moral concerns.  

 

 

A plaque inscribed with Uesugi's 16 precepts at Uesugi Shrine.

 

When the heart is free from desires, the mind is broad and the body is at peace.

When the heart is free from selfishness, one does not lose affection and respect.

When the heart is free from greed, one acts according to duty.

When the heart is free from selfishness, there is no doubt.

When the heart is free from pride, one respects others. 

When the heart is free from error, one does not fear others.

When the heart is free from evil views, one nurtures others.

When the heart is free from greed, one does not flatter others.

When the heart is free from anger, one's words are gentle.

When the heart is patient, one can resolve matters.

When the heart is free from cloudiness, the mind is calm.

When the heart has courage, there is no regret.

When the heart is not base, one does not desire or seek.

When the heart is filial, one is loyal.

When the heart is free from pride, one recognizes the good in others.

When the heart is free from delusion, one does not blame others.

 – Uesugi Family Precepts

 

 

The precepts are genuine, if mislabelled, but what about The Revelations of Kiaijutsu? We do not know Kumashiro’s background, but the book as a whole contains discussions on concepts that were floating around at the end of the Edo period and the beginning of the Meiji period. From what I have read (and I haven’t looked all that deeply), Kumashiro positions himself as a commentator rather than an expert, and I would hazard a guess that the Revelations were something he came across together with other source material, possibly from early jujutsu material (sakkatsu jizai is a term that crops up in such works).

 

So, what do they mean? Michel Random explained the verses as a summation of the attitude towards internal cultivation present both in spiritual practices (such as those of Shinto) and bugei, with no mention of kiaijutsu, and I think this is a key insight. Kiaijutsu itself seems to be an art that utilises our cultivation – primarily mental or spiritual – for situations of stress or confrontation. 

 

As there is no shortage of such in modern life, I think it is quite valuable to look at these verses in greater detail. However, this is getting a bit long now, so I will present my interpretation of these verses in my next post – they repay a bit of thinking about, so you might want to consider your own interpretation before reading mine. 

 

 

I have no parents; I make the heavens and the earth my parents.
I have no home; I make saika tanden my home.
I have no divine power; I make honesty my divine power.
I have no means; I make docility my means.
I have no magic power; I make personality my magic power.
I have neither life nor death; I make a-um my life and death.
I have no body; I make stoicism my body.
I have no eyes; I make the flash of lightning my eyes.
I have no ears; I make sensibility my ears.
I have no limbs; I make promptitude my limbs.
I have no laws; I make self-protection my laws.
I have no strategy; I make sakkatsu jizai (literally “free to kill and free to restore to life”) my strategy.
I have no designs; I make kisan (taking opportunity by the forelock) my designs.
I have no miracles; I make righteous laws my miracles.
I have no principles; I make adaptability to all circumstances (rinkiohen) my principles.
I have no tactics; I make kyojitsu (emptiness and fulness) my tactics.
I have no talent; I make toi sokumyo (ready wit) my talent.
I have no friends; I make my mind my friend.
I have no enemy; I make incautiousness my enemy.
I have no armour; I make jin-gi (benevolence and righteousness) my armour.
I have no castle; I make fudoshin (immovable mind) my castle.
I have no sword; I make mushin (absence of mind) my sword.”

When the going gets tough... a kiai shugyo

Kogan Gengei - Zen monk, student of Hakuin.

A bull fears nothing, and when he sits, he really sits; when he moves, he really moves—the ideal behavior of a Zen adept. A bull additionally stands for the mind; uncontrollably wild at first but capable of being tamed, harnessed, and eventually set free to roam contentedly wherever it pleases. 

John Stevens 'The Appreciation of Zen Art'

Some time ago I wrote about the hard training methods that developed in or were promulgated from the Meiji period (1868- ) onwards. Whether these were an authentic continuation or re-creation of the experience of bugeisha in the past is a moot point. The information I could find pointed to a strong influence from sources outside the martial tradition. 

One of the traditions I described, popularised by the Ichikukai (One-nine Society) and labelled in a general way as misogi, seems to have developed from a Shinto base and developed a fierce, Zen inspired overlay (with nods to the teaching style of Yamaoka Tesshu), involved continuous ringing of a hand bell while chanting, and which lasted for a period of several days. Tohei Koichi, the famous aikido teacher engaged in this training.

A variant, or at least, a very similar style of training is described by veteran budo practitioner Roald Knutsen in his book Rediscovering Budo from a Swordsman’s Perspective. Knutsen, whose personal experience tends to pre-date many of the current crop of writers on these kinds of things, sees this kind of training relating to Shingon mikkyo, and suggests connections through to the roots of bugei, likely renewed by individual practitioners in their personal travels and connections with esoteric teachings such as those of the yamabushi.

Much of this kind of training involves sleep deprivation, pushing trainees to the point of physical exhaustion, and fasting – mainstays of esoteric training the world over. While it is true that the founders of several ryu-ha did, indeed, withdraw to undergo shugyo in shrine precincts, emerging with new or consolidated insights and understandings of their arts, going on to found their own styles, one wonders about the extent to which these experiences were characteristic of or necessary for bugeisha as a whole.

Knutsen includes a lengthy description of a kiai shugyo similar to the ones I described conducted at the Ichikukai. It is based on the reminiscences of three budo masters of the author’s acquaintance. While there are differences – the principal one being that the chanting described in other descriptions of the misogi of the Ichikukai has been replaced by kiai – it is recognisable as essentially the same practice.

   Early on the first morning the students knelt in formal line with a few domestic dojo members behind forming the second row. Each visiting student was handed a small handbell, or ‘kane’, to hold in his left hand. they were required to throw out their arm to sound the bell and shout a loud kiai – ‘Ei – the movement timed by the slow beat of the large dojo drum. This exercise was repeated endlessly at the same measured tempo for two hours before the practise ended. That first day they had two more sessions, a total of six hours. Needless to say, their arms became very heavy and tired; their voices, too.

   They were in the dojo the next morning before dawn and the practice was the same but for one detail. Instead of kneeling they were now required to sit in the posture known…as ‘tate-hiza’ or half kneeling, with the left foot tucked underneath their buttocks. The handbells felt twice as heavy as the day before and the pain and the fatigue soon came flooding back, only to become considerably worse as the long day wore on. For most, their voices were cracking and try as they might they found it impossible to shout to the satisfaction of their superiors. At the second period, the dojo master clapped his hands and several young girls, all Kendo or Naginata students, came in and knelt behind each bell ringer, and gently with the tips of their fingers lightly tapped up and down the taught straining muscles of their necks, backs, and shoulders. On and on they rang and tried to croak out the kiai, cajoled and exhorted by the senpai, having to draw deep on their reserves of determination at least to get through to the end of the day. Finally, after almost drowning in the warmth and luxury of the temple bath-house, they sought their futon to sleep, exhausted.

   The third day was exquisite torture. By now, quite apart from their stiffened limbs – arms, legs, shoulders, backs – and the weight of those nightmare bells, they had no voices left, just raw throats that could raise, at best, a faint croak. the girls’ gentle tapping, far from relieving their tired muscles hurt like the devil, too…..

……

   The fifth morning came and most felt better for their rest although somewhat stiff. They assembled in the dojo and put on their kendo armour before continuing with the usual kiai training, but this only lasted for an hour. Then, facing them on the senior side were a number of tough-looking senior yudansha. A violent practice followed in which there was no way in their present condition they could hope to hold their own. Each of the seniors seemed to be harder than the one before … and the practices were interminable, but at last the drum called a halt. The dojo master now announced that they would all be required later to fight one-point matches, success or failure depending on the result. They were then dismissed.

Both my Kendo informants recalled the prospect of these matches as daunting and, in each case, their respective opponents looked uncompromising and hard. With little or no reserves left within them, this situation was close to facing a deadly enemy on the battlefield; desperate in the extreme. While each steadied himself for what was to come, the senpai reminded them of the teaching:

‘Don’t look with your eyes; see with your mind!’

All three masters recalled that they took standing ‘rei’ towards their opponent, they followed it with a great kiai – and the senpai at once struck the drum to signal the match was at an end!

…..

R. Knutsen: Rediscovering Budo from a Swordsman’s Perspective pp98-100

To finish with, another swordsman's perspective:

Yamaoka Tesshu – the calligraphy reads:

Asking for

The inner secrets of kenjutsu

Is like asking me

To brush an ink painting

On the sound of the wind.