Wednesday, April 23, 2014

ZANSHIN: Washing Hands




Z A N S H I N

              by Dick Morgan

                                                                         WASHING HANDS

                                     (first published in the WOMAF Newsletter, Fall, 1993) 

            It is well past midnight, and I am washing my hands in a deep-sink, massaging hot water and antiseptic soap between each finger, around each joint, under each nail, in case there is blood there too.  A woman my age has died in my hands; I can see her again in the harsh halogen light and power-tool smoke as she lay upon the backboard, soaking through the sheets.  I see her open her eyes, and slowly they focus on me.  Above the noise of the engines and people shouting, I hear her whisper, “Help me…”  It is the last thing she says; there is nothing I can do.  Her car is smashed beyond recognition, and it has taken too long to pry her out.  She reached up from the backboard and grabbed my shirt and said, “Help me…” But I could not. 
          Sometimes, being a paramedic is like swallowing a large stone.  And so I wash again, more carefully this time.  And as I wash, I think about what more I could have done, or could have done faster.  I learn what I can from it.  That is the only part I will keep until next time.  I continue until I am just washing.  And when I am finished, I am ready again.
          At times, life is like this for all of us.  Day in, day out, we are exposed to a steady barrage of unpleasant situations, dilemmas, frustrations, and minor nuisances, from rude drivers to unscrupulous business people, from social predators to relationship crises.  Our energies are soon depleted maintaining the guards and armor we erect to shield ourselves from the “world out there.”  We grow tense, suspicious, jaded.  Stress in an omnipresent buzzword, and therapy is our espresso.  All we can manage is to cope, and our inner selves become unapproachable, eclipsed.
          But there can be no progress in any art without access to our inner selves.  Playwright Arther Miller wrote, “(Art) is news from our inner selves, without which we would go mad from the chaos of our lives.”  This is especially true of the martial arts, for the transformation into a warrior must happen internally.  The first principle of any martial art is that true strength comes from within.  Therefore, it is of paramount importance that we learn how to gain access to our inner selves.  And in order to do that, it is necessary to let go of the “world out there”, get past the guards and armor, and cleanse ourselves of the stresses that shut us down.  But how do we begin?
          Perhaps we can begin with a kind of “washing.”  Every day, we can find immense benefit in taking a moment in which to set aside all the cares of the day and simply exist in the present moment, free of all the negativity we carry around with us like so much unneeded baggage.  The simplest way to do this is to sit in a comfortable position with the back straight, the chest open, and the eyes closed, and focus our attention on our breathing.   When we concentrate on our breathing, our minds become focused only on the present.  We cannot breathe in the past, nor the future; as we continue to focus slowly on our breathing, the past with all its regrets, and the future with all its obligations, slowly fade away.
          Also, as we focus on our breathing, we minimize the intrigue in our lives.  Breathing is entirely personal, and totally without ulterior design.  Nature severely discourages dishonesty in breathing.  And so, as we concentrate on each breath, we subjugate the complex needs of the ego to the simpler need of our whole being to vitalize and cleanse itself.
          Martial art practice should always begin with a brief period of this kind of meditation.  Whether white-belt or black belt master, certain precepts remain constant.  Paramount among these is the necessity to always approach the practice area with respect—that is, with an open mind and a cleansed spirit.  Only then can our common journey progress towards peace and harmony.
          So take a moment before you step onto the mats; relax, slow your breathing, and quiet your inner voice.  Engage your mind with the task of being aware of your Tan-Jun center, two inches below your navel.  Inhale slowly and completely, filling every last corner of your lungs with fresh air.  As you do this, become aware of how the diaphragm compresses the Tan-Jun point and creates a feeling of warmth.  Then become aware of the body absorbing this warmth into all its distant parts.  Begin a slow exhalation, aware that your body has automatically taken the oxygen that it needs and exchanged its own wastes and toxins.  As you exhale completely, emptying every last dead-air space, let go of any residual “mental garbage” distracting you from this awareness.  At the moment of complete exhalation, focus on the body’s need for the next breath—only this, with an otherwise quiet mind.  Then begin again, slower this time, and more lovingly.  Each breath is a complete cycle of existence, a new beginning into the eternal NOW.
          After as few as three such breath-cycles, the mind is emptied of external cares; the whole being is cleansed and renewed. And access to the inner self is regained.  This is Tan-Jun breathing at its most vital; it is ”washing the hands of the spirit” before practice.

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