Technique allows both hands to be ready, breathing to be precise, the eyes to be trained on the target. Instinct allows the moment of release to be perfect.
Anyone passing nearby and seeing the archer with his arms open, his eyes following the arrow, will think that nothing is happening. But his allies know that the mind of the person who made the shot has changed dimensions; it is now in touch with the whole universe.
The mind continues to work, learning all the positive things about that shot, correcting possible errors, accepting its good qualities, and waiting to see how the target reacts when it is hit.
When the archer draws the bowstring, he can see the whole world in his bow.
When he follows the flight of the arrow, that world grows closer to him, caresses him, and gives him a perfect sense of duty fulfilled.
Each arrow flies differently. You can shoot a thousand arrows and each one will follow a different trajectory: that is the way of the bow.
The Archer Without Bow, Without Arrow, Without Target
The archer learns when he forgets all about the rules of the way of the bow and goes on to act entirely on instinct. In order, though, to be able to forget the rules, it is necessary to respect them and to know them.
When he reaches this state, he no longer needs the instruments that helped him to learn. He no longer needs the bow or the arrows or the target, because the path is more important than the thing that first set him on that path.
In the same way, the student learning to read reaches a point when he frees himself from the individual letters and begins to make words out of them.
However, if the words were all run together, they would make no sense at all or would make understanding extremely hard; there have to be spaces between the words.
Between one action and the next, the archer remembers everything he has done; he talks with his allies; he rests and is content with the fact of being alive.
The way of the bow is the way of joy and enthusiasm, of perfection and error, of technique and instinct.
“But you will only learn this if you keep shooting your arrows.”
Epilogue
By the time Tetsuya stopped talking, they had reached the carpentry workshop.
“Thank you for your company,” he said to the boy.
But the boy did not leave.
“How can I know if I’m doing the right thing? How can I be sure that my eyes are concentrating, that my posture is elegant, that I’m holding the bow correctly?”
“Visualize the perfect master always by your side, and do everything to revere him and to honor his teachings. This master, whom many people call God, although some call him ‘the thing’ and others ‘talent,’ is always watching us.
“He deserves the best.
“Remember your allies too: you must support them, because they will help you at those moments when you need help. Try to develop the gift of kindness: this gift will allow you to be always at peace with your heart. But, above all, never forget that what I have told you might perhaps be words of inspiration, but they will make sense only if you experience them yourself.”
Tetsuya held out his hand to say goodbye, but the boy said:
“One other thing: How did you learn to shoot a bow?”
Tetsuya thought for a moment: Was it worth telling the story? Since this had been a special day, he opened the door to his workshop and said:
“I’m going to make some tea, and I’m going to tell you the story, but you have to promise the same thing I made the stranger promise—never tell anyone about my skill as an archer.”
He went in, put on the light, wrapped his bow up again in the long strip of leather and placed it out of sight. If anyone stumbled upon it, they would think it was just a piece of warped bambo
o. He went into the kitchen, made the tea, sat down with the boy, and began his story.
“I was working for a great nobleman who lived in the region; I was in charge of looking after his stables. But since my master was always traveling, I had a great deal of free time, and so I decided to devote myself to what I considered to be the real reason for living: drink and women.
“One day, after several nights without sleep, I felt dizzy and collapsed in the middle of the countryside, far from anywhere. I thought I was going to die and gave up all hope. However, a man I had never seen before happened to pass along that road; he helped me and took me to his house—a place far from here—and nursed me back to health during the months that followed. While I was recovering, I used to see him set out every morning with his bow and arrows.