The following are stories and parables of which some are about the exploits of the famous Samurai warrior, Miyamoto Musashi. For the most part, these tales were an oral tradition, passed down from instructor to student. While there were many stories about numerous warriors throughout the ages, it seems that Musashi is credited with most of these deeds, even though he may not have been present during the said event. It must be understood that these adventures are not necessarily about a person, but rather an ideology. As such, it is the lesson, and not the individual, which must be acknowledged.

by Ray Ellingsen

A Link to – Examining a Japanese Sword

The Second Lesson of Spirit

One spring morning the renowned sword maker Muramasa was visited by a young sword maker named Hidoshi. “I have been told that you are the greatest sword maker in the land. I am here to prove that I am better,” stated the journeyman bladesmith. Muramasa shook his head sadly and ignored Hidoshi, continuing with his work. Hidoshi was relentless however, and challenged Muramasa to make a better blade than his own. “How do you propose that we judge such a contest?” asked Muramasa.

“We will cut through the bodies of convicts as they are condemned already and see who’s blade cuts deeper,” said Hidoshi. Muramasa refused this method but finally agreed to have a neutral party test the blades on inanimate objects.

The whole province gathered to watch the contest as an elected samurai tested each blade. First the warrior sliced through several large bamboo stalks with each blade. While both blades severed the stalks cleanly, the tester noted that Muramasa’s blade cleaved through the stalks with slightly more difficultly. Next the samurai placed each blade between two rocks and bent the blades as far as they would go to test the strength of their steel. While both blades bowed, they each straightened back to true. The finishes on each blade were flawless, and after exhaustive testing the exasperated samurai declared that he could tell no difference between the two swords.

Hidoshi clenched his fists in frustration while Muramasa sat calmly. Finally, Muramasa stood and said, “there is one final test if you are willing to take it.” Hidoshi eagerly agreed, believing that his blade could best Muramasa’s if given the chance. Muramasa took both swords and walked down to a large cherry tree at the bottom of a hill. A stream wound through the forest and around the base of the tree.

There in the shade Muramasa handed Hidoshi his blade and said, ” place the spine of your blade across the top of the water with the edge facing skyward.” Hidoshi complied. As they waited, cherry blossom petals drifted down into the stream to be carried away. Several of these fell across the edge of Hidoshi’s blade and were cleaved cleanly in half as they touched the blade. Hidoshi smiled and withdrew his blade. Muramasa placed his blade in the water in the same manner. Several petals floated down; but upon reaching Muramasa’s blade, the petals veered off at the last moment, landing unharmed in the water. Hidoshi’s smile faded. He flung his blade into the water and bowed before Muramasa. “Though I thought myself a master you have shown me that I am still only an apprentice. You are truly a master, and I can only hope that one day I may achieve your greatness.” in the coming years Hidoshi studied faithfully under Muramasa, and one day did indeed himself become a master.

The Lesson of Spirit

One spring day Musashi accepted an apprentice. The young man was bright, respectful, and eager, and as such, learned his lessons very quickly. In the winter of his third year under Musashi, the apprentice began training in the way of the sword. One morning, Musashi told the lad to take his sword down to the forest and cut through a stalk of bamboo.

That evening, Musashi went to check on his young student’s progress. He found the apprentice standing in front of a large bamboo stalk, dejected. He noted that, while there were many deep cuts in the bamboo, none had severed the stalk.

“I have tried all day, but I do not have the strength to do as you asked,” admitted the apprentice, “but I will try again.” As the student nervously steeled himself to strike again, Musashi calmly put his hand to the back of the apprentice’s blade, lowering the weapon.

“Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try,” replied Musashi. “To simply attempt a task is to allow yourself the option of failure. By doing, your mind will be clear, and your intentions will not be distracted by fear or doubt,” he added.

The apprentice pondered this as he and his teacher walked home to retire for the evening.

The next morning, the apprentice returned to the forest, drew his blade, and sliced cleanly through a bamboo stalk with one single stroke. He felt no triumph, only a stillness in his mind. He turned to find Musashi standing a few feet away.

“Be wise and careful in what you choose to do,” noted Musashi, “for in doing, your actions may sometimes be irrevocable.”

The apprentice looked at his sword, and then at the severed stalk. He sheathed his blade, and he and Musashi walked up the path together.

The Lesson of Intention

One spring morning, while walking in the public gardens, Musashi, at the time, in his 50’s, was challenged to a sword duel by a young Ronin. Musashi, having nothing to prove, declined. The Ronin informed him that he would challenge him each day in public until Musashi accepted. After one month of this, Musashi reluctantly accepted.

They met atop cherry blossom hill at dawn. They bowed, drew their swords, and commenced to do battle. Upon the second exchange, the Ronin realized that he was far outclassed, but vowed to fight to the death in order to retain his own honor.

Upon the forth exchange, much to the Ronin’s astonishment, Musashi raised his sword to strike, but left his ribs exposed. Not in the position to stab, the Ronin sliced across Musashi’s side instead, only slightly wounding the elder man.

Musashi stepped back and lowered his sword, offering it to the Ronin in the customary gesture of acknowledging defeat. The Ronin accepted the sword, thus ending the duel. As was also the custom when both warriors survived an encounter, Musashi prepared tea for both of them.

While they partook of the tea, the Ronin could not help himself and proudly announced, “I have beaten the greatest swordsman in the land, now I am the best.” Musashi calmly blew on his tea to cool it, and replied, “but you did not win the battle, I did.”

Dumbfounded, the Ronin could only stare at Musashi in disbelief.

“When you met me on the hill this morning, what was your intention?” asked Musashi.

“To become the greatest warrior in the land”. Replied the perplexed Ronin.

“My intention was that we both survive the contest. As such, I did what was necessary to insure that this was the outcome.” countered Musashi. With that, he returned drinking his tea.

The Ronin pondered this for a while, then set down his cup. The Ronin returned Musashi’s sword to him, then offered his own sword to Musashi, as was the customary gesture of acknowledging defeat.

The Second Lesson of Intention

Musashi was traveling through the mountains one day on his way to report to the Province Shogun. As he and his attendant came upon a fork in the path, they were suddenly surrounded by several bandits. The leader of the group ordered Musashi and his charge to hand over all of their possessions. Musashi gave no reply and simply stood unmoving. The bandit again made his demand, this time louder. He also brandished a club menacingly to emphasis his point. Still, Musashi stood his ground quietly. Frustrated, the leader screamed to Musashi, “Give us everything you have, now; or we will attack you.”

In one swift motion, Musashi drew his sword and sliced the bandit’s club cleanly in half. Musashi’s return stroke arced toward the bandit’s neck, stopping barely one inch in front of the startled thief’s throat.

Wide eyed, the bandit carefully motioned his comrades to back away. As Musashi lowered his blade, the hoodlums all turned and fled back into the forest.

Two days later, on their return trip, Musashi and his attendant were again stopped along the pathway. This time by two different brigands. Musashi stared at the two men; and they stared back, holding their weapons at the ready.

Without warning, Musashi’s blade seemingly leapt from its sheath. Musashi’s first stroke severed the head from the lead bandit. His second, cut across the second man’s stomach, disemboweling him. Both of them fell to the ground, dead.

The attendant, still in shock from what he had just witnessed, turned to Musashi and asked, “When we were besieged two days ago, you only discouraged the men who attacked us; and yet today you killed these two without hesitation. Why?’

As Musashi cleaned his blade and prepared to sheath it,