Far from Samurai

"The way of the Samurai is found in death." - The Hagakure


I first read the Hagakure after seeing the movie Ghost Dog, where it features a prominate role. Reading it was an enlightening experience. The above quote is the first sentence, and the one that stayed with me through the years since I read it. I find it an extremely calming idea, and not a week goes by where I don't quote it to myself at least once. I am not a fatalistic person by nature or by religion so the quote would seem to contradict my personality; but instead it forces a perception shift, my brain changes gears and -this is the calming part- drains my emotions away.


Let me explain.


To me this is a statement on the inevibility of conclusion, specifically the conclusion of life in death. Most of my fears, concerns, hopes, and beliefs in regards to death concern after death. I have died. What now? The first sentence of the Hagakure does not evoke these things for me because it does not address after death. It simply references death. What it means to me is that to be a Samurai one must accept what one cannot change or control, and focus on those aspects of life that one can control like dignity and honor.


In moments when I find myself getting frustrated, worked up, or otherwise emotionally agitated, I take a deep breath and think "The way of the Samurai is found in death." I focus on the words for a few seconds, ignoring all else, and I find myself calm and emotionally detached. It does not work all the time, but it works most of the time.


The obvious criticisms of this are 1) that's not how that passage is meant to be interpreted, in fact what Jake's saying doesn't exactly make sense with the text, 2) emotional detachment isn't neccesarily a good thing, and 3) Jake's crazy and thinks he's a mideval japanese warrior.


Number 1: Interpretation
When I first cracked open the Hagakure and read the first sentence I put the book down and spent the next hour thinking about it. It was just one of those things that resonated with me. As I read the book about every other paragraph I repeated the first sentence to help put what I was reading in the context of it's opening statement. I have found that in most philisophical works at some point the author summarizes the basis of the piece in one sentence (ex. - I think therefore I am). Once located this sentence can be used to frame my thinking as I absorb the author's words. Remember the kid's game Telephone? Everyone sits in a circle, and a whispered message is sent around the circle and the group compares the final version with the original version. In the case of the Hagakure I unknowingly played a game of Telephone with myself and lost. By the end of the book I was saying, "The way of the Samurai ends in death." This is obviously a different statement with a different meaning. The meaning of this final statement, "The way of the Samurai ends in death" literally sang in the recesses of my mind, whereas the original and correct statement, "the way of the Samurai is found in death" had simply made me thoughtful. After creating "ends in death", and interpreting at least the latter part of the Hagakure with it in mind, it was cemented in my head and now felt right whereas the correct statement felt wrong. When I realized what I had done I corrected the words but could not correct the meaning. So I say "found in death" but hear "ends in death."


Number 2: Emotional Detachment
Something I find myself struggling with from time to time is apathy. In a cerebral sense I know that I care or that something is important but I just can't muster the motivation to do anything. The reason that I cannot summon this motivation is that I just don't feel like it. The topic is emotionally dead to me. If we truly observe the situation however, it is revealed that when I feel unmotivated is always when I am dealing with something that creates a high amount of anxiety for me. We're out of money and I have to find a job. The medical bills need to be paid, but that leaves nothing for groceries. It is no coincidence that both of my examples have to do with money; lately (the past 2 years) most of my anxiety can be traced back to money issues. In these cases I get worked up and I worry and I get tense and then I'm lethargic. I know I need to deal with it ASAP, it's just that right now I just can't bring myself to do it. Suddenly we see the truth. This apathy is a defense mechanism. A coping tool my brain pulls out to keep from popping a valve. I would venture to say that this is not an uncommon problem, that most people out there feel that way at one time or another. Having all "been there" it makes perfect sense that a sense of emotional detachment would be viewed as a negative thing, because this type of emotional detachment, this apathy, is the first example that springs to mind.


The emotional detachment that focusing on "The way of the Samurai is found in death" brings to me is different however. This is a sense of calmness. When I choose to use this phrase for this purpose, usually I feel as if my brain is running screaming in forty directions at once. Focusing on the "way of the Samurai" phrase calms me down and makes me feel as if my brain is walking in one straight path. With this mental sensation comes an emotional detachment. I'm aware of my concerns, worries, and feeling I just don't access them. I don't neccesarily feel robotic, but I do find myself thinking in simple "If...Then" statements. The world is translated into symbolic logic. A = B. B does not = C. I have found this state of mind to be invaluable.


Number 3: Jake's crazy and thinks he's a mideval japanese warrior

Okay, so I'm a fantasy buff. Fantasy novels, fantasy video games, role playing games; I love it all. Since the games in particular allow you to choose a fantasy archetype to play, I feel it's worth noting that I gravitate towards warriors. Oh sure, I'll play the others: the wizard type, sneaky rogue type, holy man - they're all fun for me. But the ones I tend to identify with are the warriors. And yes, I'm geek enough that I own several swords; but I'm smart enough to know that I don't know how to use them. They're just cool to have. If someone breaks into the house I have an axe handle under the bed - I won't be reaching for my replica gladious or my dueling saber.


From a philosophy stand point where I find similarities between myself and Samurai, and a mideval european knight for that matter, is in having a code of honor. The honor ideas for the Samurai and knight are easy to find so I won't go into it here; instead I'll focus on my own ideas of honor as they apply to me. I go out of my way to avoid betraying anyone. I have never cheated on anyone I dated. While I can't say I have never cheated in games, I haven't since I have become an adult for certain, and don't remember ever cheating at any game in High School. Like anyone I tell the occasional lie, but I'm very picky about what I lie about and to whom. I keep my word. Anyone who knows me will tell you I seldom make promises, because 1) I feel that it devalues my standard statements, that the extra qualifyer of "I promise" becomes needed for belief, and 2) it almost physically hurts me to break a promise, even if it could not be helped. There is no "acts of God" clause when keeping a promise is concerned. I will do anything I can to avoid breaking a promise. Finally, I will go to bat for my friends. While I have a large amount of friends, there is a smaller number of good friends that I will go out of my way to support without any reasons needed.

I believe in consequences. Anything that you do, any action or inaction has consequences. Some of these consequences are good, and some are bad, but the world is full of cause and effect. And you should accept the consequences before you act (or choose not to act), even if the consequences turn out not to be what you thought they were. A = B. Sometimes I will do the wrong thing, and do it deliberately, but I only do so because I have considered the consequences and consider it worth it.

All of the things I have said resonate with the honorable warrior ideal. So no, I don't think I am a mideval Japanese warrior - but if I had lived in mideval Japan I probably would have been.

Having said all this, I'd like to talk about "cross vision". To my knowledge I have never really meditated. I have friends who meditate and endorse the benefits of it. The books I read are filled with characters who meditate and thus are better at whatever it is they are supposed to be good at. But I personally have never meditated to my knowledge, and would not know how to go about meditating in the first place. I guess the effect Hagakure sentence has on me would be the closest thing to it that I do. That and "cross vision".

"Cross vision" (it's not an actual thing, just how I'm choosing to describe it here) works like so: I focus on the image of a cross in my mind (I'm Christian and the cross shape is religious in this instance). While I can do this with my eyes closed most often I have my eyes open. The cross imagined is really a mental outline, not a solid or opaque object. Like a tracing of a cross. Then I look at the world, whatever is in my field of view, through the cross. When I do this my thoughts fall into place like Tetris blocks and I see the world in terms of logic and morality. There are a few problems with "cross vision". If I do it in the wrong mood, I can feel rightegeious while doing it, and not in a good way. Second, it only applies to the here and now. I can't seem to do it while playing memories in my head, or thinking about the future. It only seems to apply to my field of vision.

So there you go. More "insight" into how my "mind" works. Trust me you're a better person now.