THE CIRCLE OF LIFE AND DEATH

Steven Duncan, tamishigiri

“Think,” asks the teacher, “about the circle about yourself that you can draw in the air… You had better learn to see it because it is the circle of life and death – your life, your death, and the lives and deaths of others, possibly dozens or hundreds of them. So long as you are alone in the circle you are safe, and so is your enemy. They cannot touch you, and you cannot reach them. As soon as either of you steps into the other’s circle – and of course when you enter their circle, they enter yours – both of you are in terrible danger, both of you are a single moment away from success, from victory. The Circle of Life and Death – there’s a grand, magical-sounding name for it, but that is precisely what it is. Alone in your circle you are safe… but you can achieve nothing. Once your circle meshes with someone else’s, you carry with you both accomplishment and defeat, both at the same time, success and failure, life and death.

Know your circle. Learn it so that you can see it – not just when you make an effort and look for it, but all the time, whether you want to see it or not. I know it is imaginary, but you have got to make it more real than anything you can touch or see or hear or smell or taste. You are to know how far you can reach out into the world, and how close the world can come to you; before you have to draw and cut.  Does everybody understand or must I go through it again?

“Before even your first class I want you all to learn your circle so well that you would know immediately when someone breaks into it – and that includes someone behind you or off to the side, not just in front. You will learn that until everybody has got it down, then we will do the same thing with our eyes shut. And then, when we really know our own circles, we will learn to see other people’s.

The teacher smiles their most innocent smile. “Usually, I find it takes about ten years to get it right.”