The Way of the Ronin (Dokkodo) |

Miyamoto Musashi
The Japanese word ‘rōnin’ describes a samurai without a master, who
wanders alone. The status of a ronin varied across different time-
periods. In a general sense, being a ronin implied failure.

More specifically, a ronin had renounced the act of ‘seppuku’, which

is a form of Japanese ritual suicide that was applied to restore honour
after defeat. Those who refused seppuku became outcasts that endured
a reputation of disgrace.

Walking their own path, some ronin worked as mercenaries and

bodyguards, and others became criminals. One of the most legendary
ronin is Miyamoto Musashi, who is famed as Japan’s greatest
swordsman - undefeated in more than sixty duels.

Musashi became a ronin after he escaped death during the Battle of

Sekigahara when serving general Hideyori. Aside from being a
swordsman, he was also a philosopher, artist, and well-learned
Buddhist.

Among other writings, Musashi left us with twenty-one principles for

those who walk alone named Dokkōdō, that he wrote down not long
before he died.

Even though the age of the samurai is long gone, Musashi’s principles
are timeless and can inspire us today to live well.

This three-part series elaborates on the twenty-one principles from

Musashi’s Dokkōdō. Please note, the elaborations in this video are
based on existing philosophies, the author’s interpretations, and
reasoning, and are intended to be an inspiration for present-day life.
1) Accept everything just the way it is.

In The Book of Five Rings, Miyamoto Musashi explains the way of

the warrior through the art of sword fighting. When reading this book,
it becomes clear that ‘the way’ means a life of ongoing practice.

Especially when we look at this from a Buddhist lens, we can

conclude that the only effective way of practice is based on the
acceptance of how things currently are.

We cannot improve, if we aren’t willing to be novices at first. Part of

meditation practice, for example, is the acceptance of the current state
of affairs, in order to strengthen the mind.

But Musashi goes even further by saying that the warrior should
resolutely accept death. Death is not just an inevitable part of life, but
also an acceptable fate to preserve honor according to old Japanese
traditions.

The act of Seppuku is based on the idea of ‘honorable death’, which

follows in a situation when staying alive would be a disgrace; for
example, when someone has failed his or her duty.

Now, especially for the modern Western mind, this idea is extreme.
Nevertheless, the resolute acceptance of death can help us to accept
that it’s a path we all take someday.

In Buddhism, there’s a practice called ‘corpse meditation’, during

which one can contemplate death in the presence of a dead body, or
simply by imagining one. By doing this practice repeatedly, a
Buddhist comes to terms with the reality of death.

For a ronin, we can say that the acceptance of one’s aloneness is

essential. Musashi, for instance, had to face the world without the
support of a school or master, traveling the land, and fighting duels to
perfect his skill.
Thus he walked a very solitary path, on which one can only flourish
when aloneness is accepted.

2) Do not seek pleasure for its own sake.

Despite his ronin status, Musashi emphasized virtue above pleasure.
He could have become a mercenary or a thief, but he chose to develop
himself spiritually,

to perfect the art of the long sword and sacrificed his life for the
greater good multiple times. At most, pleasure should be a side effect
of one’s pursuit of virtue.

The meaning of virtue is different across time periods, as ethics and

views on morality change over time. But we can distinguish pleasure
seeking, meaning the pursuit of selfish gratification of the senses,
from doing something good for the world without taking sense
gratification into account.

Musashi’s attitude toward pleasure is very similar to Stoic and

Buddhist attitudes, which go together with sense-restraint. Epictetus,
for example, argued that, in the long term, the victory of abstaining
from pleasure is better than to be overpowered by it.

The Buddhists argue that sensual pleasure in itself isn’t enjoyable at

all; it’s simply a scratch to an itch; an itch that will worsen if we keep
scratching, to the point that it will lead us astray. For a ronin, it can be
vital to keep pleasure-seeking at bay.

As ronins wander alone, the pursuit of pleasure can become a trap, in

which they get entangled in the world in destructive ways. The pursuit
of tasty food, cheap entertainment, lust, not only tethers people to the
mundane; it also holds them back from practice, which, according to
Musashi, could lead to a deeper spiritual understanding.

In his days of solitude, Musashi could have never perfected his

swordsmanship if he had indulged in pleasure.
3) Do not, under any circumstances, depend on a partial feeling.

Feelings are important, as they indicate that something is going on.

But they aren’t always ideal when it comes to making decisions. The
problem with feelings is that they’re often based on irrational
thinking, thus, based on a delusional view of reality.

Therefore, feelings are, in many cases, partial, as they don’t tell us the
whole story which means that acting upon them can lead to actions
that might be wrong and destructive.

Instead, rational thinking, logic, reason… or, in short, assessing a

situation, and observing our feelings with mental clarity is more
reliable.

Thus it’s important that we’re mindful of what’s going on in our mind
and body. Are we overpowered by emotion? Are we coming from a
place of anger or fear? If this is the case, our best bet is to let the dust
in our minds settle, and reassess the situation again when our minds
are clear.

Needless to say, battles need to be fought with a clear mind, and

enemies should be approached rather with mental clarity than with
emotion, as the latter is detrimental to our skills and could lead to
stupid decisions.

4) Think lightly of yourself and deeply of the world.

Miyamoto Musashi was lethal and humble at the same time, aware of
his insignificance compared to the bigger picture, and also with a
willingness to serve the greater good.

Thinking lightly of ourselves means that we acknowledge that we

aren’t that important. Of course, we’re inherently valuable as human
beings, but the reality is that if we die tomorrow, the world probably
doesn’t stop spinning.
If we compare ourselves to the universe, we’re incredibly small, and
above all, dependent on the whole.

Why think so highly of ourselves, and elevate ourselves above the

environment, when we’re utterly dependent on it?

The universe is so incredibly vast, so complex, so much more than

this tiny ego in our heads. And by realizing this, we know that not
being humble doesn’t make any sense.

A ronin was probably aware of this, as facing the world alone can be
an eye-opening experience in regards to how small and vulnerable we
are. So, it’s not a bad idea to take ourselves with a grain of salt
sometimes, and reflect on how significant our lives truly are.

This doesn’t mean that we should remove ourselves from the

equation, but that we always try to be aware of the proportions
between ourselves and the environment so that we don’t inflate our
self-importance and become deluded.

5) Be detached from desire your whole life long.

Desire and aversion are two sides of the same coin. If we’re averse to
something, it means that we desire to not incur the thing we’re averse
to. Desire, thus, means that we let our happiness depend on something
that lies outside of us.

Unfortunately, outside circumstances are beyond our control, so if we

let our happiness depend on them we’ve put ourselves in an unreliable
position.

Needless to say, this approach to desire is very Stoic. The Buddhists

see desire, or more specifically, ‘attachment’, as the root of suffering.
Being attached to desire means that we’re fixed on our pursuit of
external things, assuming that this pursuit will make us happy.
Musashi tells us that, despite the vastness of the external world and
the smallness of ourselves, the key to wellbeing lies within.
I quote: There is nothing outside of yourself that can ever enable you
to get better, stronger, richer, quicker, or smarter. Everything is
within. Everything exists. Seek nothing outside of yourself.
End quote.

So, we could say that even though we should be humble to the

greatness of the universe, our focus should be on our own actions
within that universe, and not on what we can get from it, as the latter
isn’t reliable.

This is how Stoic philosopher Epictetus puts it, and I quote: The
things in our control are by nature free, unrestrained, unhindered; but
those not in our control are weak, slavish, restrained, belonging to
others.
End quote.

Musashi justly realized that desiring things, not in our control isn’t an
effective strategy for a good life. Also, experience teaches us that the
following desire can lead to addiction.

6) Do not regret what you have done.

Self-reflection and the ability to see what we did wrong, and how we
may have hurt other beings is a very valuable skill, which is essential
when it comes to building meaningful relationships and avoiding past
faults in the future.

But repeatedly beating ourselves up over the mistakes we made in the

past isn’t going to help anyone. At most, we show people that we feel
bad about what we’ve done, which can be a good thing, but after a
while, the only way we can go is forward.

Moreover, many bad things that happen tend to be blessings in

disguise. And with shame and damage comes wisdom. The realization
of the destructiveness of our own actions is an opportunity to become
more cautious and more empathetic, which prevents us from more
misery in the future.
“When you lose, don’t lose the lesson,” the Dalai Lama stated. Also,
what seem bad decisions now, could turn out to be great decisions in
the future, as the future will always remain mysterious, and will
unfold in ways we can never truly predict.

7) Never be jealous.
When facing the world alone like a ronin, resentment is always
around the corner. Being an outcast often means not having what
other people have, especially when it comes to material things and
social connections.

For a ronin it even meant being without a home, drifting across the
lands, and not belonging anywhere.

So, it’s easy to become envious of those who have what you don’t
have. With envy, we could look at couples when we’re single, at the
wealthy when we’re poor, at popular people when we, ourselves, are
met with contempt.

It’s pain, based on a desire of wanting things to be different than they

are, of wanting what other people have but, for some reason, we don’t
have.

When we walk alone, it’s unwise to burden ourselves with such

feelings of resentment, as they will only harm ourselves. The only
thing we’ve got authority over is our own faculty; all energy we spend
on bitterly comparing ourselves to other people is wasted.

Ronins are better off focusing on their own actions and walking with
blinders on if necessary. These were the first seven principles from
Miyamoto Musashi’s Dokkōdō, in the first

part of this three-part series.