Dancing Dragons

photo by Christophe Schmid (Photoxpress)

I am not a martial artist. In fact, I am a frustrated one. Just like many kids of my generation, I lived my fantasies in many movies and Japanese TV shows called tokusatsu, which mostly feature a super sentai , a squadron of heroes in colorful cyborg-like costumes fighting crimes and monsters using weapons and hand to hand combat. As a teenager, I long to be someone like Jackie Chan, Jet Li or Chow Yun Fat. I love to see their seemingly paradoxical stunts, gentle moves with forceful strikes. I had this longing much stronger after an encounter with a boy's gang who almost hit me on my head. Because of this, I wanted to be "the deadly man" on the streets, so nobody can dare to harm me.

But this thought of becoming ruthless and deadly has become feeble, since I have been much more resonant with the characters of a wise sage in many movies and stories, such as Yoda in Star Wars. Commonly, this character exudes an extraordinarily calm demeanor while teaching a brazen apprentice. Then, in times of distress, he exhibits his skillfulness in combat no villain can match. Yet he remains alert, focused, and serene like an unperturbed pond. What makes this master a powerful yet tranquil force? Why do they learn something that harms another yet be so much at peace with their skill? Pacifist by nature, I haven't had any street fights with anyone (the worst perhaps was my verbal attacks and some mischievous actions against a high school classmate) I always have faith in peace, yet I still have this archetypal yearning of gaining some mastery in martial arts. It was certainly a koan of sorts, for the paradox of peace and war is present in this very yearning.

Then, like a swift blow in my mind, a sudden insight came. The sages, both in ancient history and in fictional depictions, are not masters of martial arts. They are, in truth, masters of mental arts. During their warring era, they have developed skillful ways in living through their war-torn society. They have learned the arts not to harm others. They keep their inner awareness that everything is in harmony, and their fighting skills are actually to restore the balance and harmony of the universe.I know that most martial artists would disagree, since evil, war, violence and hostility are all present in our society, and that we must develop self-defense in order to keep ourselves safe from any attack. Yet, from the perspective of peace, we need not to defend ourselves. No one attacks us but ourselves. Our true enemy is our fear and anger within. So this is not just self-defense. In spite of these negative forces, we still become aware of the peace within us, of choosing it and becoming the source of it. This is how a real master thinks and feels.

"Dancing dragons face death squarely in a total surrender not to their enemies, but to the harmony of Life. They pass through this difficult test of their experience, attaining the insight that they and their enemies are all but one being."

In so doing, the masters of the arts do not just box, kick, or kill anyone to survive. They have acquired the movement of animals, such as how the crane spreads its wings, how the mantis prays, how the snake slithers, how the tiger leaps. They have imitated the flowing of water, the swaying of bamboo, the falling of leaves. They have learned this great harmonic dance of the Universe, bearing the tremendous strength and nonviolent spirit, and therefore have become the dancing dragons.

As these dancing dragons fight, they neither harm nor kill for the sake of their lives or for bloating their egos. Unless they do so, they cannot master the art. For each move, blow, kick against the attacker is not done with anger nor with fear. It is the way they dance in the rhythm of violence and war that tears apart the sense of Oneness. As their enemies rip off peace, these dragons mend them back together. They face death squarely in a total surrender not to their enemies, but to the harmony of Life. They pass through this difficult test of their experience, attaining the insight that they and their enemies are all but one being.

A friend who is a long-time martial artist told me that sakura, or cherry blossom, a pink flower tree indigenous in Japan, is a common symbol for a samurai, or an ancient Japanese swordsman. Quite contrary to a seemingly macho image of a warrior. But as the symbol speaks for feminine beauty, gentleness, and evanescence of Life, a samurai embodies and reminds himself to see that all around him is pristine and peaceful; that no matter how violent his life may be, he wields his sword not to kill but to see honor and compassion all one with the Universe. This is the mind of a dancing dragon.

To master the dance of the dragons is not about gaining physical power over a weakling, nor about destroying an enemy. It is about seeing that both the weakling and the enemy are partners of the dragon's soul as they dance together in the music of spheres and savagery. They all dance together as they sense their profound connections, the truth that they are not separate.

A martial art known as aikido directly embodies this principle. It literally means "the way of joining with the spirit." It seeks not to be harmed nor harm anyone, but to find peace in the midst of war. A stark paradox, indeed, yet a truth worth understanding. So the nature of martial arts is beyond the literal concept of fighting, yet it is about doing things and treating people. It echoes what Mr. Han (Jackie Chan's character in Karate Kid remake) said to his young student: "Everything is kung fu." The word kung fu applies to all martial arts, as long as we choose to see it that way. Eating, working, sleeping, talking, walking, and almost all verbs that nourish Life can lead us to the essence of the art.
We can be dancing dragons ourselves. To be one is to sustain an awareness that we are all One, that we don't have an enemy. As we dance with anger and fear, we master this art that teaches us to Love those who injure us. As another friend puts it, through martial arts we are led to get deeper in the gentle yet strong force of Love, and move in concomitance with its energy. As you get better and better, you get kinder and kinder. As a mastery of all mastery, Love is the very core of what the true masters have achieved.