“無” 無心 “無” 無我
“Mu” Mushin “Mu” Muga
“No” No Mind “No” No Self
November 2022
By Sammy Scarpone
The famed Edo Era swordsman and sensei Yagyu Munenori wrote in his acclaimed Heiho Kadensho—The Life Giving Sword, “If you exhaustively repeat the various practices, and accumulate merit in your discipline in practice and training, the action will be in your body and limbs, and not in your mind. Distancing yourself from practice, you will not run counter to it, and you will perform every technique with freedom. At this point you will not know where your mind is, and neither demons nor heresies will be able to find it… These are practices for reaching the stage of muga. If you are able to make them your own, they will disappear. This is the ultimate meaning of all Ways.”
Still being a neophyte in the realm of martial arts despite having some very modest prior experience that included Kendo and Aikido, I found it took me a fair amount of time to digest the recent—and my first—seminar with Didier Boyet Sensei. Being fortunate enough to have this learning experience early in my Iaidō training was a blessing but there was a vast amount of information to take away. I should elaborate that I began my Iaidō training towards the beginning of this year after spending a lengthy time away from the martial arts. The reasons were various but as the lengthy pandemic waned, I felt I needed to make up for lost time. At some point I took a self-inventory and asked myself, “out of the thigs that I could control, what is missing in my life that would make me happier and healthier? How can I make up for lost time this year? One of these thoughts led me back to the martial arts and Iaidō, which I had wanted to explore for some time.
Before starting back on the Way, I had some apprehension starting something so new. I questioned if it was too late to pick up the sword again, I questioned if I would hold back sempai, and I certainly felt this approaching the seminar. I didn’t, however, shy away from jumping in and felt that I needed to embrace the opportunity to exercise my mind and body. I needed to understand how to start anew and how to embrace shoshin—beginner’s mind. I was a blank slate, I knew I needed to take advantage of the opportunity of being unabated by preconceived notions or techniques and decided if I just take the plunge, perhaps I would take away more than I thought I might.
Throughout regular practice in the dojo I was constantly trying to play the movements in my head, performing, watching Sensei in an attempt to dissect minute gestures with the seemingly frivolous notion that I could repeat them, then perform again. I often hear Sensei’s voice repeat in my head, “breathe!” and I attempt to reset, clear my mind and focus on simply moving. Again and again, performing the kata, perhaps getting ever so slightly better each time. My interpretation of mushin or muga had always been that it was key to the martial arts.
Takuan Sōhō, the Buddhist priest who greatly influenced Yagyu Munenori wrote this of mushin in his treatise of the martial arts, The Unfettered Mind: “The mind must always be in the state of ‘flowing,’ for when it stops anywhere that means the flow is interrupted and it is this interruption that is injurious to the well-being of the mind. In the case of the swordsman, it means death. When the swordsman stands against his opponent, he is not to think of the opponent, nor of himself, nor of his enemy’s sword movements. He just stands there with his sword which, forgetful of all technique, is ready only to follow the dictates of the subconscious. The man has effaced himself as the wielder of the sword. When he strikes, it is not the man but the sword in the hand of the man’s subconscious that strikes.”
Although I think my intentions are keen, I find things go a bit awry in practice. I tell myself I will clear my mind and my body will perform the kata as it should. I begin. My steps are swift but short, I focus on sayabiki as I unsheathe my sword but my grip is off as I “land” my first strike, I strike correctly but my follow up is off, I take an extra step, my chiburi may be correct but my noto isn’t. I return to neutral and try again thinking, “Perhaps I should slow down… I need to soften my knees before starting, I messed up before I even started last time because of that! …This time don’t take an extra step! …Swing the sword with your back not your arms!” On and on it goes.
This phenomenon is what I have dubbed “mu mushin mu muga”—no no-mind no no-body. This is the antithesis of our training. Although I feel I can clear my mind and set aside outside influences so that I can practice, “demons and heresies” permeate my thoughts and cause me to falter. To understand, and consequently over simplify the concepts of mushin and muga, the question one has to ask is perhaps, how does one maintain clarity in kata and waza? How can one flawlessly move not just through kata, but without thinking of how to move, and how does one simultaneously use a weapon as a natural extension of oneself? How does one both correctly and perfectly anticipate and react to an opponent and to life? Mushin and muga are perhaps then at the heart of the Way. I believe this is reflected in Boyet-Sensei’s explanation of the translation of Iaidō (居合道) itself when he explains, “dō (道)—the way of, ai (合)—facing or meeting, I (居)—existing. Iaidō is the way of facing existence!”
I do not yet have the answer to my aforementioned questions. However, difficult as it may be to accept, I believe it is all part of shoshin. From the start of my training, during the seminar, to this day, and for many more years to come I will face the struggle of mu mushin as I train and am working on accepting this. The degree to which I am conscious of my movements and their faults is what I hope is making me better—that is, until I no longer need this consciousness. I hope that as my mind determines I have made an error and as my body falters in moving, I hope I can digest this information into my practice so that one day I will not be hindered by these thoughts. And so I ruminate, observe, and begin again.
I was fascinated to hear in our recent seminar Boyet Sensei’s recalling of his early days of training in Japan. In what seemed to be lore, he recalled his sensei showing him every kata the first time he became a student and was promptly told that he would never be shown them again. He continued to say that students had to listen through shoji as his sensei practiced in the pitch dark and had to construe what movements he was doing. He inferred he had to learn from sempai, not sensei. Find someone to observe and copy, then find someone else until you become proficient. He said this may take a lifetime, but then perhaps this is the true pursuit of the Way. This small moment of enlightenment early in the seminar gave me confidence to once again take the plunge, take in what was in front of me, and see what I could extract.
Boyet Sensei explained that movements need to be simple to be beautiful. He also stated that speed and precision will come in time—simply focus on moving correctly. I think this is what I took away the most from his seminar. I was fortunate enough to have him directly instruct me several times on the mat over the seminar weekend. Although it was humbling (to say the least), even while doing the simplest movements such as suburi, he approached me. As I brought my sword down to its lowest position, Boyet-Sensei stopped me, pushed me down lower into the stance and said I need to come down farther. I think because of my lankiness, he instructed me to extend my hands lower so I can keep my arms closed and closer to my body.
Later in the seminar when doing bokken work he again dissected my blunders, stopped me, and adjusted my posture. He approached me and gently swatted at my shoulders instructing, “Arms and shoulders down! You are so tense!” I laughed despite believing I had good reason to be tense, it’s not easy being assessed by Boyet Sensei after all!
When studying the initial sitting forms towards the latter half of the seminar, those forms being integral to all that we do, I certainly knew I had many areas of study that needed work. I found myself that afternoon on a crowded mat with many sempai in an exemplary state of mu mushin as I strived to perform correctly trying to recall every single memory of ever performing shohattō. As Boyet-Sensei made his rounds wielding a padded fukuroshinnai he was kind enough to stop before me. He keenly told me to perform and as I rose up he gently yet firmly corrected and pushed my chest back with the shinnai telling me, “slowly slowly! Back back!”
Over the weekend I was honored to be present in the dojo. By having so many sensei and sempai to observe, and in the most elementary sense of simply jumping in, I felt I was able to gain many takeaways. Boyet Sensei’s minute yet generous corrections will echo and impact my training for many years to come as I form a true foundation to this art. Although I believe I will still face the adversity of mu mushin mu muga for some time to come, I believe I have made a stride in my learning that I will continue to incorporate into my practice. I left the seminar weekend truly feeling that I had established a base for my training to advance on and more ready than ever to continue my practice in finding the Way.
Sammy Scarpone has practiced Iaido at Multnomah Aikikai since February 2022
Sammy Scarpone (right) practicing at the October 2022 Boyet Sensei seminar at Multnomah Aikikai, Portland Oregon