TIP OF THE SPEAR

Pew-pew is good for you

Not trying to turn anyone into a Shaolin monk, but, dang it, you’d benefit from developing an inner aspect to your shooting practice. Or dare I say it, a philosophy? Because the heart of the target is you.

BY DOC SPEARS

Things that go without saying actually bear repeating over and over, and here’s one I’ve dropped on you before: discipline is worthwhile for its own sake. If that statement is not self-evidentiary, I’ll simply ask you to accept my word that a regular mind-body practice (like fitness) produces benefits far beyond the observable, like how your pants fit.

In my attempt to persuade you that a dedicated marksmanship practice is profoundly beneficial in ways few other activities offer, I won’t use appeals drawn from my background in neuro-science, logic, or even as a professional weapons and tactics trainer (there’ll be time for those explorations in other posts). Instead, I’ll illustrate why I feel so strongly about the benefits of firearms training and practice by analogizing it to other martial pursuits and how they flowered, or faltered.

The martial practices of Japan nearly became extinct after WWII. Imperial Japan militarized their society in the 19^th and 20^th century, using arts like kendo (sword) and judo (the foundation of the Olympic sport and of the Brazilian ju-jitsu practiced world-wide now) as a part of the vast cultural and ideologic reinforcement for their imperial goals. This culminated in the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere, with Imperial Japan invading their Pacific neighborhood to impose a hegemony on all of Asia.

During the post-war occupation administered by Douglas MacArthur, the Japanese had to demonstrate that there was more to martial arts than the mis-applied samurai code of bushido which had been the spirit of their aggressive ambitions; that budo—the way and spirit of martial arts—was valid both as physical education and as a means to develop the individual for the benefit of society.

I was a personal student of the president of the Kokusai Budoin (the Japan Martial Arts Foundation, later, International, whose titular head is always a member of the royal family) and I was tutored at length about that history—by someone who was a living part of the history. The essence was this; those martial practices could’ve been lost forever. During his administration, MacArthur was empowered to ban the practice of all martial traditions. Instead, he was persuaded to see their value, and they survived and flourished, while maintaining their valid basis as martial arts.

I contrast this with what happened in China under Mao. I was also fortunate to have wonderful teachers of the traditional Chinese martial arts who were likewise living witnesses to their own history. Wu-shu is what became of Kung-fu. The state controlled the martial arts; extinguished what they feared, approved what could be taught—right down to the actual physical forms—even altering biomechanically valid principles to remove their martial effectiveness (because, the commies couldn’t allow the populace to have any means of fighting back. Fact.)

Don’t get me wrong; I love the Chinese martial arts! And, like all things the commies try to subvert, people and truth prevail, and much of the true traditions survived or were reconstituted (not the least reason being, they survived in countries like Taiwan and the USA) but it is what it is. The Japanese made sure the philosophical principles of budo returned to their martial arts, and the Chinese communists extinguished (tried to extinguish) the martial values in their martial arts in favor of performative acrobatics.

[As an aside, when you see propaganda videos of the Peoples Liberation Army in mass formations, executing practice forms in perfect unison, breaking boards, sparring, etc., remember this: your armed forces are actually warfighters; they’re on the rifle range, running unit live fire-assault courses, doing combined arms exercises, etc., etc. Do what I do when you see those videos of our number one adversary doing kung-fu, oblivious to the concept of opportunity cost; yawn, and sleep soundly.]

Now, back to the US of A and firearms practice!

I’ll paraphrase part of a talk I gave not too long ago as the graduation guest speaker at the US Army Sniper School. After congratulating the small number who made it to the end, I offered some insights on the nature of their uniqueness as warriors—and some practical training advice—finally transitioning to talking about what happens when the day eventually comes that their daily mission in life would no longer defined by being a sniper.

It’s easy to get lost in the world. How great is it that when that happens, you already have the tool to return to yourself? That tool is the rifle. It is good and right and proper that when the steel rings with one of your impacts, you experience a deep satisfaction and sense of peace that stays with you far off the range. You’re supposed to feel that way. Because, every impact serves as immediate proof that you are in complete control of yourself and your environment. And as long as you make some part of firearms practice a part of your life, it will continue to serve as a touchstone to the way of perfect connection between your mind, body, and spirit.

If you’ve read any of my DARK OPERATOR series or are a Galaxy’s Edge follower on social media, you’re familiar with the protagonist Kel Turner and the exhaustive list of pithy observations known as Kel’s Rules. One of those is taken straight out of the practice of kyudo—Japanese archery—and is a distillation of everything important about marksmanship:

The essence of marksmanship is that the target is you. When your mind is unfocused, the target’s fuzzy. Your arms shake. The sights move. Looking at the target and hoping the shots will appear where you wish them does nothing to achieve the desired outcome. Thinking about the outcome means you’re not thinking about the act you need to perform. Perform the fundamental acts correctly. Let the outcome take care of itself.

There’s a lot to dissect in there. Some is just practical performance psychology. Some of it is the “no-mind” of Zen Buddhism—learning to perform in an un-mindful, or unconscious, way. And using firearms marksmanship as a means of training the mind and body to perform harmoniously for a purpose, it’s one of the benefits of such training; especially, if you’re aware of the inner aspects available by such a practice.

That’s a huge part of what I’m trying to communicate to you here; to you, the great American firearms owner. Your simple marksmanship practice can be much more than the expression of your freedom; as paramount as that is. It can be part of a living philosophy. And living philosophies exist only because they are practiced, and practiced with fealty to the truth. Marksmanship is also a martial art, and offers the same benefits. And when they’re no longer practiced, they’ll no longer exist in any meaningful form. And likewise, their benefit to you and to society will also cease to exist. That’s why they’re both living philosophies.

In my next piece I’ll delve into the concept of the four levels of performance, and try to further inspire you about the value of your disciplined practice, whatever that chosen practice may be.