Pursuing the hard goals sharpens our focus and gives us a platform to grow our skills. Reaching for the difficult increases our own reach while strengthening our resolve.
Mikka Bouzu 三日坊主 [pronounced “mee-kah bow-tsu”] literally means “a monk for three days” – although in a more meaningful sense, it figuratively refers to a person who was a novice monk for just three days, and then quits.
The very essence of karatedō is that we don't quit. It's just not a part of the possibilities that a karateka considers. And Mikka Bouzu 三日坊主 reminds us of this.
The Would-Be Monk at the Monastery Gates
The genesis of Mikka Bouzu 三日坊主 is from an old Asian fable: there once was a young man who thought that he wanted to become a monk. He was fascinated with the idea of being one. After all, monks were revered as scholars and as role-models of probity. They were respected and given special treatment. And they were "special" – monks weren't commonplace like all the other men he encountered that had more prosaic occupations.
So when he reached his majority, he thanked his parents for raising him, and set off for the nearest monastery. Upon arriving, he arranged to meet the abbot of the monastery, and offered himself up to train as a monk.
However, he quickly found out that training and living as a monk was very difficult. He had to rise very early, before dawn. He worked the entire day in the fields around the monastery. No one paid him any attention: after all, he barely had been a novice monk for even 24 hours. As the second day of his training wore on, he became more and more dejected.
And then on the third day, he quit. He bade the abbot goodbye, and returned home, never again to dream of being a monk.
He had been a monk for three days: and then he gave up his dream.
Giving Up Means Success is Impossible
How many times have we tried something that was hard… and given up? How many times have we imagined ourselves doing something, and then we tried it, and at the first sight of difficulty, concluded “this is just too hard” or “this isn’t quite right for me”?
All things that are truly worth doing are hard to do; if this was not the case, would not everyone who tried these things succeed?
No, rather the great deeds, the great rewards, are reserved only for those that truly struggle. The world is full of so many people who have imagined their dreams, possibly taken a few steps towards them, and then quit.
Do not be such a person, and especially, do not be such a person when you embark on the important paths in your life.
The Easy Things Aren't Worth Doing
There is a corollary to this, however. If hard things are not only worth doing, but also worth pursuing even in the face of difficulty, are easy things worth doing?
The answer is often: no.
Of course, one's day is populated with easy tasks: it may be easy to brush your teeth in the morning to clean and take care of them, and yes, you should definitely do that every morning. But these types of tasks are simply the minutiae of your day: they are maintenance. Eating your lunch is not an accomplishment.
When the choice arises as to what goals to pursue however, choosing the easy goals most definitely is not worth your attention and effort.
Easy goals do not make you a better person; to grow and evolve, we need to be challenged (see Ren ma — Constant Polishing 錬磨). It is in the striving to reach hard goals that we improve ourselves; the challenge sharpens our focus and encourages us to gain new skills.
In the Dojo
It has often been said that martial arts tries hard to discourage insincere students, so as to weed-out those that aren’t truly able to commit themselves to what is ultimately a difficult, life-long path.
And there is some truth to that.
The path of karatedo is a long, hard, and is ultimately a path without a destination. We travel this path because the act of traveling it helps us to become better; there is no need for a destination if the path itself gives us such an outcome: being a karateka is all about becoming a better version of ourselves, ever evolving and ever improving.
If you look around the line on the dojo floor, you may notice that there are people who no longer train. While certainly life changes can cause karateka to interrupt their training, the reality is that not everyone who walks onto a dojo floor wearing a white belt for the first time ends up continuing to train. There are many "white belts for three days" in karatedō as well.
However, also look at the rest of the line on the dojo floor: there are many karateka who literally have trained for years, improving themselves and contributing to the improvement of their fellow karateka. These are the karateka to emulate, and these men and woman (and boys and girls) are the epitome of what karatedō is all about.
Commit to the Fourth Day
Do not be the person who was a monk for three days.
Instead, be the person who decides to travel the hard path, knowingly, and keeps traveling that path despite obstacles, despite unforeseen problems, and despite all the difficulty that is encountered on that path.
Stick with your goals for a fourth day, even when you start to doubt your ability during the first three days to follow the hard paths in life. Become the monk, and be a monk for a lifetime.
| Kanji/Katakana | Meaning |
|---|---|
| 三 | three (san) |
| 日 | day (hi) [note: together, 三日 is "mikka"] |
| 坊主 | monk [literally: shaved head] (bouzu) |
Editor's Note: This lecture was first delivered by Sensei at the Goju Karate dojo in San Rafael, California on 7 May 2012, and then again at the Goju Karate dojo in New York City on 14 August 2024.
