The Grandmaster's book of Ninja training

82 Dr. Masaaki Hatsumi The Grandmaster's Book of Ninja Training 83
gave me the title, that I finally realized I was a real
Iemoto. This is nothing strange: I simply didn't at the
time have the capability. But, as a man, I had to
fulfill the responsibilities of my position. However,
that time became an outstanding time for me because
of the continuous five-year period with so little sleep,
which led to an autonomic nervous imbalance so that
I could hardly see, my intestines were in a terrible
state, I was unable even to stand properly, and so on.
But I still loved the training. Even though I was
sometimes unable to avoid being thrown and hit in
practice by my own students, I still never stopped
training.
And during that time, one of the closest friends I
had betrayed me by breaking a promise to me. But,
as it turned out, it was a very good lesson for me. I
learned the need for independence, and it gave me a
lot of inner strength.
I did not feel hate for him, and in fact realized—it
was like a satori for me—the value of his action was
an opportunity for my growth. It was like a gift from
the gods for me. The ninja must live, after all, without
self-pity, without regret. Through this learning
process, my health returned. I had to carry out my
responsibilities. My body then became lighter, and
many other changes took place. But it's necessary not
to take a betrayal like that badly, even if it's perpetrated
by an intimate friend. It's really like the fifth
dan test: you know, in Japanese, the word for betray is
"to cut down from behind," and even to be betrayed
by a deshi should not be judged as a bad thing, any
more than being attacked from behind in the fifth
dan test should be judged as "bad." "Good" and "bad"
are, after all, only parts of the same continuum, but it
is up to us to choose the good through our attitude and
through our perception. The betrayal doesn't matter
to me. I was able to overcome it, and that too became
a highlight of my training. It is no obstacle for me,
People create all their barriers for themselves. It's
really such a foolish thing to do. We create our own
obstacles and lose our own way in the search for
truth. So it represents no barrier for me now. All that
it's necessary to do when one faces a barrier is just
keep walking, paying it no attention. Just keep going,
keep walking, and the obstacles disappear! In my
case, when I seem to be in trouble and I think I won't
make it, I just keep walking. And so it continues,
even today. Those sorts of things were the real highlights
for me.
But even when you are on the receiving end of some
painful attack, you can feel the pain well enough—
and even that can have some element of enjoyment in
it since it's part of practice, without there being any
masochism or sadism involved. Even a technique
that makes you cry out in pain, you see it, but you
don't get how it's done. It becomes like an interesting
puzzle, and you feel so happy when you solve it! And
then, when you teach it to your students, you see them
puzzling over the same problems as you yourself
did—it's really very amusing! And those are some
more highlights! And this kind of attitude to things is
also very important.
C: What is the meaning of the title "Soke" (Grandmaster),
and some of the differences between a Soke
and somebody who's just a very good technician?
H: "Soke" signifies nothingness, zero, emptiness,
void. Something that exists, and yet does not. The
Soke is just an ordinary person, and yet, somehow, he
is someone who is living his life according to some
invisible divine command. You see, I do not live by
my conscious mind, not at all, so that whatever I have
thought up till now can just suddenly change in my
mind, though it is not a consciously engineered
change. The Bujinkan has changed, too, right? And
because it can change, it can improve—as I think it
does with every change—right? All sorts of things