John Maki Evans Read online

  Copyright ©2010 by John Evans. All rights reserved. No portion of this book, except for brief review, may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without written permission of the publisher. For information contact Blue Snake Books c/o North Atlantic Books.

  Published by Blue Snake Books

  Blue Snake Books’ publications are distributed by

  North Atlantic Books

  P.O. Box 12327

  Berkeley, California 94704

  An earlier version of chapter 2 appeared in the Shudokan Martial Arts Association Journal 13, no. 4 (December 2008), and an earlier version of the introduction appeared in the Shudokan Martial Arts Association Journal 15, no. 4 (September 2010); both are reprinted here by permission.

  Cover photo by Coneyl Jay

  Cover and book design by Brad Greene

  Kurikara: The Sword and the Serpent is sponsored by the Society for the Study of Native Arts and Sciences, a nonprofit educational corporation whose goals are to develop an educational and cross-cultural perspective linking various scientific, social, and artistic fields; to nurture a holistic view of arts, sciences, humanities, and healing; and to publish and distribute literature on the relationship of mind, body, and nature.

  North Atlantic Books’ publications are available through most bookstores. For further information, call 800-733-3000 or visit our websites at www.northatlanticbooks.com. and www.bluesnakebooks.com.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Evans, John Maki, 1954–

  Kurikara: the sword and the serpent, the eightfold way of the Japanese sword

  / John Maki Evans.

  p. cm.

  eISBN: 978-1-58394-428-8

  1. Swordplay—Japan. 2. Hand-to-hand fighting, Oriental—Japan. I. Title.

  GV1150.E83 2010

  796.86—dc22

  2010023102

  v3.1

  To my mother and father.

  To my teachers Reverend Herbert Slade, Murata Fushi Sensei, Nakamura Taisaburo Sensei, and Natanaga Zhander.

  To my wife, Karen.

  PLEASE NOTE: The creators and publishers of this book are not and will not be responsible, in any way whatsoever, for any improper use made by anyone of the information contained in this book. All use of the aforementioned information must be made in accordance with what is permitted by law, and any damage liable to be caused as a result thereof will be the exclusive responsibility of the user. In addition, he or she must adhere strictly to the safety rules contained in the book, both in training and in actual implementation of the information presented herein. This book is intended for use in conjunction with ongoing lessons and personal training with an authorized expert. It is not a substitute for formal training. It is the sole responsibility of every person planning to train in the techniques described in this book to consult a licensed physician in order to obtain complete medical information on his or her personal ability and limitations. The instructions and advice printed in this book are not in any way intended as a substitute for medical, mental, or emotional counseling with a licensed physician or health-care provider.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Foreword by Natanaga Zhander

  Introduction

  1. Kihon—Basics

  2. Kata—Forms

  3. Tanren—Forging Power

  4. Uchikomi—Striking Targets

  5. Tameshigiri—Cutting Targets

  6. Kumitachi—Sparring

  7. Shinshin Renma—Cultivation of Sensibility

  8. Sanmitsu Yuga—Three Secrets Integration

  Appendix I: Training Weapons

  Appendix II: Godai Table

  Appendix III: Tenouchi

  Appendix IV: Sword Nomenclature

  Appendix V: Safety

  Glossary

  Recommended Reading

  Acknowledgments

  Japanese Language

  Yoko Hirose, Steven Forth, Yoshitaka Nomura, Toshimasa Okuya

  Translations of Nakamura Taisaburo

  Guy Power and Takako Funaya

  Japanese Sword-Making

  Paul Martin

  Traditional Japanese Medicine

  Christopher Osborne

  Photography

  Figure 1 by Motohira Shimpo

  Figures 7 and 15a provided by John Evans

  Figures 11, 12, and 15b by William Edwards

  Figures 2, 16, 18, and 21 by Dave Edwards

  Figures 22 and 23 by Coneyl Jay and Richard Clark

  All other photographs by Coneyl Jay

  Special thanks to Coneyl Jay for arrangement and post-production of all photographs

  Kurikara Logo

  Taiyo Nagano at Tamassy Creative Ltd.

  Foreword

  Underlying all authentic internal systems is a clear sequence of steps for the forging of power. These stages are defined by rules of conduct. Without knowledge of these rules and stages, the cultivation of internal energies is not possible. In the modern world these rules of conduct are upheld in just a few traditional schools that permit entry only to serious students. Testing and initiation is required at every step since each stage requires different rules, tools, and practices.

  Although the number of steps varies according to school and discipline, the basic pattern is universal. Yoga defines eight stages. In the first stage initiates are given practices that, once mastered, allow them to be at ease in all kinds of conditions without agitation. In stages two and three, training is focused on the development and adaptation of rhythm and coordination, by which natural patterns are discovered. In the fourth stage different sounds are introduced to force the energy through the centres of the inner body. The resonance of subtle sounds from within in response to this indicates that the inner powers are releasing from their previous frozen state. This response confirms that the preparatory training has been completed and also elicits the fifth stage, in which mental salutations are introduced in reverence to the higher powers.

  The sixth stage involves the manipulation of the respiratory functions, by which inhalation and exhalation are increasingly lengthened and finally suspended. In the seventh stage, the repetition of mental prayers is used during the time of this suspension. It is at this stage that the inner vital power takes over and fixed rules of training end. Stage eight is the most difficult, since all that has been achieved must be offered as a sacrificial gift to the great lord of all beings. Here the student, with senses withdrawn in concentration, offers himself with physical, verbal, and mental acts and stands as a servant stands with gifts before his master. From this moment onward everything that needs to be done is carried out spontaneously, without interference from the mind, senses, or personality. This is the state of freedom.

  This book thoroughly explains these same principles, rules of conduct, and stages within the art of Japanese swordsmanship. Those of rare intuition and those who have been well schooled may, through careful reading and persistent application, arrive at an understanding of their own innate spontaneous nature. Others will require the guidance of a living teacher to turn these words into skillful action.

  —NATANAGA ZHANDER (SHANDOR REMETE)

  JUNE 10, 2010

  Introduction

  Shugyo

  shu: study, cultivate, master, complete

  gyo: occupation, profession, service, karma

  gyo: going, journey, religious austerities

  Shugyo refers to a disciplined course of training. Like many Japanese words, variants have arisen that employ
different characters to express nuances of meaning. When shugyo leads to mastery of a profession—a clear and honorable goal—it is written . When a discipline is pursued as a way of self-development, shugyo becomes . This is much cloudier territory, since inner goals cannot be clearly described by those who claim to have attained them nor clearly imagined by those who aspire to them. This is a land ripe for fools and tricksters in which “spirituality” easily becomes an excuse for half-hearted or amateur endeavors. The apparently more mundane does, however, have the deeper meaning of resolving one’s karma or discovering one’s gift. When you discover your genuine gift, you are simultaneously seized by your fate. When shugyo takes hold in this way, one must unfold it completely or die a miserable death.

  One evening in September 1981, a few days after my arrival in Japan, I got out of a taxi on a poorly lit road at the edge of a village thirty miles east of central Tokyo. A small, prefabricated bungalow was set into the side of a dark, forested hill. My companion knocked loudly on the door, at which a shout hailed us to the back of the building. As we arrived there, glass doors slid open, and soon we were sitting on the floor of a small, brightly lit room surrounded by Buddhist statues, paintings, and shelves full of artist’s materials, tea ceremony artifacts, and climbing equipment. My companion, a Japanese artist and entrepreneur from an aristocratic family, introduced me to our host. Fushi Sensei was small and compact with a bright, round face and shaved head. During an exchange of polite greetings he rapidly assembled a table from some large carved stones and a piece of polished wood; moments later he produced bowls of green tea with water from an iron vessel on a pit of coals in the corner.

  An intense conversation rapidly developed between my companion and our host that (as best I could tell with my limited Japanese) covered a bewildering array of complex subjects. Then suddenly the attention switched to me. I received a succession of searching questions: Fushi Sensei rapidly ascertained the essentials of my education as well as the family events that had led me to train in yoga and martial arts and spend five years in a monastery. Although he acknowledged my answers, he seemed more interested in my demeanor and the manner of my answers. Unsettling as his gaze was, I persisted in explaining that my goal in Japan was to continue my study of meditation while learning acupuncture.

  He declared that only one in ten thousand people are able to achieve their goal through a shugyo of meditation, and with no further explanation stripped off his top to reveal a surprisingly muscular torso. He wound a thick belt around his canvas trousers, pulled out what looked like a long black tube from behind the shelves, and stepped lightly into the earthen yard.

  After a long inhalation that seemed to double the size of his torso, he leapt forward, drawing out a long, shining blade. For several minutes he filled the yard with a bewildering maze of swift, coiling movements from which the sword lashed out in sweeping arcs. The blade flashed as it caught the bright light from lamps suspended between the roof and the cliff. The air was filled with humming and hissing sounds as the blade pulled through the air. Stopping as suddenly as he had started, he exhaled quietly, stepped back inside, and sat down. He reached again into the corner I now realized was full of weapons, and drew out a wooden sword; again without a word, he passed it to me and gestured outside. This was not how I had intended this meeting to develop. So began my first lesson in swordsmanship.

  Shugendo

  shu: study, cultivate, master, complete

  gen: effect, testing, verification

  do: course, journey, way, teachings

  Shugendo is a way of inner cultivation through training and testing. No teaching is to be believed until it has been tested and proved in oneself. In medieval Japan this term was given to the practices of mountain ascetics who absorbed some of the many teachings that were brought from China over a period of nearly a thousand years. The general population called these ascetics yamabushi (those who sleep in the mountains) but they called themselves gyoja and later shugenja (practitioners of gyo or shugen). Originally independent and unaffiliated, the yamabushi were often mavericks and outcasts (like their legendary forebear En no Gyoja, exiled in 699 for the supposed abuse of magical powers). Their unusually severe training included carrying heavy portable shrines around sacred mountain routes, immersion in cold water, fasting, mantra recitation, and various forms of exercise, including yoga and martial arts. Skills and powers were tested at annual gatherings through trials that included climbing ladders of sharp swords, walking over fiery coals, and martial contests.

  Fushi Sensei decided that a combination of shugendo practices and swordsmanship (for which he declared I had a strong affinity) would establish whether I had any aptitude for inner practices. Soon I was following a twice-daily regimen of suburi (swinging swords of various weights) and sangyo daigyo tanren (a conditioning sequence of yoga and calisthenics that serves as a substitute for mountain training). I was given a strict diet and instructed to spend increasing periods each morning squatting under a cold shower chanting a dharani (mantra). I was told this was the preparation for takigyo (waterfall training).

  Four months later, I was climbing a dark mountain path behind Fushi Sensei; it was approaching midnight. It had just begun to snow, and I was still feverish from influenza exacerbated by the two days of fasting required for takigyo. Despite my fatigue, anxiety, and the cold, I could not help but be impressed by the beauty of the rock temple we now entered. We climbed into the head of the gorge after passing over a series of bridges. Every cleft and cranny contained a Buddhist statue or stone lantern. We now entered a Shinto shrine above which hundreds of twisted papers containing the prayers of visitors were hanging from thick straw ropes. The mixed scent of incense and oranges was thick in the air, and there were piles of fruit and rice cakes on stone altars close to the torrent that thundered down a black rock face.

  We entered a wooden outbuilding in which a tea urn steamed and gently whistled. We sat under a sunken table, our feet close to a pot of hot coals, and a thick blanket over our legs. As we sat absorbing the heat and sipping a special bitter tea from tiny cups, Fushi Sensei explained again the preparatory procedure and what I would be required to do while I stood under the falls. Then we returned to the frozen area in front of the falls. I stripped down to white canvas pants and pulled a chain tightly around my waist. My bare hands and feet grew numb almost immediately. Fushi Sensei pointed to a winding path up the side of the cliff and said, “First pay your respects to the kami (deity of the place).”

  I climbed briskly and soon had a good view of the head of the waterfall, the stream that fed it, and the lights below. As I turned back to the path, I glimpsed a faint flicker of metal in the dark thick underbrush and moved toward it. I was immediately transfixed by a cold, burning gaze. As my vision spread, I recognized a scaly surface and then the outlines of a great metal dragon coiled around a huge double-edged sword. Fushi Sensei’s shout summoned me back and I ran back down the cliff. As I washed my feet and began the sequence of exercises to prepare for immersion in the falls, I noticed that a remarkable inner firmness had replaced my previous anxiety. The fatigue and numbness had gone. The significance of this experience would elude me for twenty years.

  Mikkyo

  mi(tsu): secret

  kyo: teaching, precept, religion

  The dragon Kurikara is a powerful symbol in Mikkyo. Mikkyo, the “secret religion,” denotes the tantric schools of Buddhism of Indian origin that were brought to Japan from China. Although the yamabushi were influenced by the native religion and Taoist influences from China, they found the vivid symbols and tantric methods of Mikkyo particularly conducive to their training.1 Both the dragon and the great double-edged sword he winds around share the name Kurikara, and both are manifestations of the fierce bodhisattva Fudo Myo O (The Shining, Unmoving King).

  Fudo is the patron of ascetics and warriors in Japan, and with his sword, Kurikara, he destroys delusions and severs attachments that stand in the way of the aspirant (see color ins
ert). The relationship between the sword and dragon is explained in the Kurikara Dharani Kyo (the sutra of the Kurikara incantation), which tells the story of a battle between Fudo and a demonic adversary. The demon metamorphoses into a sword, and Fudo does likewise; the fight continues without result until Fudo transforms himself again, this time from a sword into a dragon; he then consumes the heretic’s sword in flames.

  Figure 1. Fudo Myo O tanto (dagger) made and engraved by the contemporary swordsmith Motohira Shimpo; this is a replica of a tanto made in the Nanbokucho period (1336—1392). On one side is Fudo Myo O and on the other the bonji (Sanskrit “seed syllables” or mantras) that invoke his presence: Nau Maku Kan (Haam).

  The bodhisattva Fudo Myo O with his sword, Kurikara (painting by John Maki Evans, 1985)

  Kannon, bodhisattva of compassion (painting by John Maki Evans, 1986)

  All along the tributaries of the Silk Road between India, China, Tibet, and Japan, dragons and serpents are portrayed as the guardians of knowledge and holders of secret powers. They dwell in water and yet generate destructive storms of fire. Kurikara is derived from Kulika, the name of one of the Naga Rajas (Snake Kings) of India. Often portrayed as the guardians of the cosmic Buddha, these beings also represent the inner powers of the yogi-warrior. The supreme image of this is found in the stories of Shiva, the warrior yogic deity (the Sanskrit name for Fudo—Acalanatha—was one of Shiva’s titles). Shiva’s cosmic body is entwined by the Naga Rajas as he pounds out the dance of destruction and creation.

  The Kurikara story is a symbolic representation of the stages in the transformation of the shugenja (the practitioner of shugendo). The ceremonial sword represents the gaining of discriminative power—the ability to cut decisively through illusion and attachments. The inner firmness this brings provides the stability required before one can undertake Mikkyo training designed to release those powerful latent energies (the dragon power) that burn up obstacles to spiritual freedom.