Photographe by David Loew Some reading this believe that being a warrior is only about fists and feet. Certainly, technical skill and mastery of the martial and pugilistic arts is part of the “warrior way.” There are other parts that are not so apparent, especially to those who are young and full of spit and vinegar. There is much more to it than that. Being a warrior does not depend solely on the ability to fight, but also being able to harmonize mind, body, and spirit. Without this sacred trinity, there is no way to achieve balance. Without balance, we lose perspective, and without perspective, the warrior cannot strike accurately and fully. Therein lies the warrior’s undoing. Meido “Keith” Moore, Director of the Japanese Martial Arts Society in Chicago put it this way: “If you’re only learning how to fight—to understand violence—even inflict it, you are not a true warrior. If we stop there, we are no more than animals. How do we learn to be bigger than that? How do we deepen the part of us that is not animal, the part of us that is deeply human? Being a warrior means usefulness as a fighter; but more than that, it is about who you will be to your community, the people and the children, the rest of the time: It means leadership.” In the ‘70s TV series, Kung Fu, David Carradine plays a Chinese-American who grew up in a Shaolin temple. He is tutored by a wise, blind monk who occasionally defeated determined and sighted opponents. Caine learns from his mentor that being a warrior requires more than just the ability to inflict violence. It takes compassion, caring about others, and simplicity of living that carries with it the benefit of a greater inner peace. From there, the strength to overcome obstacles and adversity arises. By learning what it means to be well-balanced spiritually, mentally, and emotionally, along with the power of training, true warriors become extensions of the surrounding world. Consequently, skills combine with the senses. Incredible feats of power and ability seemingly occur without forethought. This is because the warrior way teaches the fighter how to maintain one’s center, remain balanced, and focus on the desired outcome. Too often, novices make the mistake of fixating on the process. When this occurs, they are vulnerable to savvy opponents and run the risk of defeat. If a warrior is a serious student, his or her body automatically responds to imminent threat with a speed and grace that seem to defy explanation. By now, some might think, “Hmm, how can this be true? Aren’t warriors all about learning how to beat up the other guy? Isn’t it true that, “Nice guys finish last”? Yes, some may believe, it is all about the thrill and surge of power one feels when they indulge in gratuitous violence against their opponents. Unfortunately, this often leads to vicious and sadistic behavior that cheapens the warrior way to all observers. Unless discipline and training include lessons of body, mind, and spirit, the “wannabe” warrior becomes burdened with emotional “fall-out,” often lashing out unexpectedly and in the wrong direction. So, a warrior on the path to enlightenment must learn to understand complex feelings and deal with them in a healthy way. The warrior way has much to teach, regardless of one’s level of interest in the fighting arts. Truly becoming a warrior is not a simple task. It requires conscience, awareness, self-discipline, intelligence, and native wit. And so, in hopes of providing a guide to greater understanding of the spirit of the fighting arts, this column will be an ongoing feature of this new publication. It is dedicated to men and women who seek not only to pass the physical tests of the fighting arts, but also the wisdom to learn mental, emotional, and spiritual aspects of that accompany them.
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