Eugen Herrigel, a German professor, moved to Japan in the 1920s. He came to teach philosophy at a university in Sendai, a city a few hours northeast of Tokyo. Herrigel began training in Kyudo, the Japanese martial art of archery, to gain a better understanding of Japanese culture. "A legendary archer named Awa Kenzo taught him'. Kenzo was adamant that beginners should learn the fundamentals of archery before attempting to shoot at a real target, and he took this approach to its logical conclusion. Herrigel was only allowed to shoot a roll of straw from two meters away for the first four years of his training.
When Herrigel complained about the incredibly slow pace, his teacher responded: “The path to the goal should not be measured! How important are weeks, months, years?
Herrigel's performance was abysmal when he was finally allowed to shoot at more distant targets. The arrows drifted off course and he grew more discouraged with each misguided shot. During a particularly humiliating session, Herrigel declared that his problem must be poor aim.
Kenzo, on the other hand, looked at his student and replied that it was not whether one was aiming that determined the outcome, but how one approached the task. Herrigel was irritated by this response and blurted out, "Then you should be able to hit him blindfolded."
"Come see me tonight," Kenzo said after a brief pause.
In the dark, archery
As night fell, the two men returned to the courtyard, which housed the practice room. Kenzo walked to his usual shooting location, this time aiming in the dark. The archery master went about his normal routine, settling into his shooting position, pulling the bowstring taut, and releasing the first arrow into the darkness.
Later, Herrigel reflected on the event, writing, "I knew from the sound that I had hit the mark."
Kenzo immediately drew a second arrow and fired into the darkness.
Herrigel jumped to his feet and dashed across the courtyard to investigate the target. “When I turned on the light on the target mount, I was astounded to see that the first arrow was completely lodged in the middle of the black, while the second arrow was completely free. the second arrow had splintered the butt of the first and went through the axle before embedding itself next to it,” he wrote in his book, Zen in the Art of Archery.
Kenzo had hit a double bullseye despite the fact that he couldn't see the target.
Around 1860, three Japanese archers. Photographer unknown. (Image courtesy of the Henry and Nancy Rosin Collection of Early Japanese Photography.) The Smithsonian Institution is a museum in Washington, D.C.
Everything points in the same direction.
The great archery masters frequently teach that "everything points." The final result is determined by where your feet are placed, how you hold the bow, and how you breathe during the arrow release.
In the case of Awa Kenzo, the master archer was so focused on the process that it resulted in such a precise shot that he was able to replicate the exact sequence of internal movements even without seeing the external target. This complete awareness of one's body and mind in relation to one's goal is referred to as zanshin.
Zanshin is a word commonly used in Japanese martial arts to refer to relaxed alertness. Translated literally, zanshin means "the mind without rest." In other words, the mind was completely focused on the action and fixed on the task at hand. Zanshin is constantly aware of his body, mind, and surroundings without stress. It's effortless surveillance.
In practice, however, zanshin has an even deeper meaning. Zanshin is choosing to live your life intentionally and act with purpose rather than being a mindless victim of what comes your way.
The enemy of improvement
There is a famous Japanese proverb that says: "After winning the battle, tighten your helmet.'"
In other words, the battle doesn't end when you win. The battle only ends when you become sluggish, lose your sense of commitment, and stop paying attention. This is also zanshin : the act of living alertly regardless of whether the goal has already been achieved.
We can bring this philosophy to many areas of life.
- Writing: The battle doesn't end when you publish a book. It ends when you consider yourself a finished product, when you lose the vigilance necessary to continue improving your craft.
- Fitness: The battle doesn't end when you do a PR. It ends when you lose focus and skip workouts or lose perspective and overtraining.
- Entrepreneurship - The battle doesn't end when you make a big sale. It ends when you become arrogant and complacent.
The enemy of improvement is neither success nor failure. The enemy of improvement is boredom, fatigue, and poor concentration. A lack of commitment to the process is the enemy of improvement because the process is everything.
"One must approach all activities and situations with the same sincerity, intensity, and awareness that one has with the bow and arrow in hand," says Zanshin.
—Kenneth Kushner, One Arrow, One Life
We live in a world obsessed with results. Like Herrigel, we have a tendency to put a lot of emphasis on whether the arrow hits the mark or not. However, if we put that intensity, focus, and sincerity into the process (where we place our feet, how we hold the bow, how we breathe during the throw of the arrow), hitting the target is simply a side effect.
The point is not to be concerned with hitting the mark. The goal is to fall in love with the monotony of the job and enjoy every step of the process. The goal is to carry that moment of zanshin, that moment of complete awareness and concentration, with you throughout your life.
It is not the goal that is important. It is not the finish line that is important. What is important is how we approach the goal. Everything points in the same direction. Zanshin is the name of a city in Japan.
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