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HOW does one know when to let go of something ?
Eugene Herrigel, the German philosopher with special interest in mysticism
who introduced Zen to large parts of Europe, found out the hard way
one day. Or perhaps it was the easy way. Anyway, at one point in his life
when he was working as a lecturer in Japan Herrigel decided to learn a form
of Japanese archery called kyojutsu (literally " the art / technique of the
bow"). His teacher was one Awa Kenzo, a master archer but considered a bit
of an eccentric by his peers because he used to teach that one must " put an
entire lifetime of exertion into each shot." At the same time he also
maintained that from the beginning no technique was necessary; indeed,
nothing was needed.
Kenzo believed in the doctrine of "it shoots",
and right from the beginning Herrigel had problems coming to terms with that
---especially since the " it" seemed to be something that was both himself
as well as not himself. Thus, for a while, he went through a particularly
frustrating period when he was unable to figure out when to let go of the
pulled back drawstring and release the arrow to his teacher's entire
satisfaction. When after weeks of trying he still couldn't master the
technique, the teacher recounted an example from real life.
Consider, he said, a toddler sitting in the middle of a room
surrounded by many multicoloured toys. In the course of time one of them
attracts her eye, fancies her attention, and she picks it up. after that she
spends a long time playing with it, now turning it over and over,
transferring it from one hand to the other; now licking it with her tongue
or trying to put it in her mouth to bite it. Her concentration is so total
that the rest of the world ceases to exist--such is the importance of the
toy to her at that point of time. Then a remarkable thing happens: her eyes
alight on another toy. Suddenly the one in her hand is history. In one
fluid, seamless, automatic, unconscious action the child drops it and
unwaveringly reaches out to pick up the other one.
That, the teacher told Herrigel, was how one ultimately lets go of
something. Whether it's an arrow on its way to a target, a love letter to a
girlfriend, a resignation to the company, a goodbye to the dead or an ego
for the greater good, it has to smack of a comprehensive and complete
finality. Maybe we'll always get back to it again and again, over and over
many times-- who knows these things ?--- but, for the moment, it should
be ended and done with, as if forever. |