The Samurai and the Cat

This is from an 18th century Japanese work on swordsmanship. The whole thing can be found in English translation in Daisetz Suzuki's book, Zen and Japanese Culture (where I first saw it) or online at www.auburn.edu/~wilsoug/Neko_no_Mojutsu.html.

There once was a famous swordsman whose home was plagued by a particularly large, strong, aggressive rat. He sent his pet cat against it, but she was no match for the rat, and after being bitten, she ran off screaming. Next he called on the three local cats known for their superior skill in the art of rat-catching: the black cat, the tiger cat, and the gray cat. But when the three entered the room where the rat was, he glared at them fiercely, fended off their assault, and counter-attacked so furiously that he drove them from the house. The swordsman decided he would deal with the problem himself, and taking up his sword he went after the rat. But it moved with such speed that it hardly seemed to touch the ground, and even made a successful leap at his head. Dripping with sweat, he abandoned the fight.

Now he had heard of a cat in the neighboring village with a reputation for unsurpassed rat fighting ability, an almost mystical skill in the art. He sent for her, but when she arrived, he was disappointed, as there was nothing impressive in her appearance. Nevertheless, he sent her in against the rat. The cat entered the room nonchalantly, carelessly, not like one expecting to face a dangerous foe. But as soon as the rat caught sight of her, he become frozen with terror. A moment later, the cat came out with the rat dangling from her jaws.

That night a banquet was held, and the mysterious cat was given the place of honor. All the other cats wanted to know how she overcame that fearsome rat so easily, but first each gave an account of his own approach to ratting. The black cat stepped forward and explained how from his kitten years he had trained himself in speed, agility, and acrobatics, so that he could leap over barriers seven feet high and squeeze through narrow rat-sized openings. He was also very adept at pretending to be asleep, and pouncing immediately when an unsuspecting rat came within reach. But his physical skill availed him nothing against that extraordinary rat.

Next came the tiger cat. He had come to the realization that the important thing in fighting was to develop a powerful spirit, and he had trained himself in that. "I am now", he said, "in possession of the strongest spirit, which fills up heaven and earth. When I face an opponent, my overawing spirit is already on him, and victory is on my side even prior to actual combat ... But that old mysterious rat moved along without leaving any shadow. The reason is beyond me."

The gray cat set forth his views next: "I have for a long time disciplined myself in this way: not to overawe the enemy, not to force a fight, but to assume a yielding and conciliatory attitude ... I act like a curtain surrendering itself to the pressure of a stone thrown at it. Even a strong rat finds no means to fight me. But the one we had to deal with today has no parallel, it refused to submit to my psychical overpowering and was not tempted by my manifestation of a yielding psyche. It was a most mysterious creature -- the like of which I have never seen in my life."

The master cat's response to and criticism of their various approaches can be summed up very simply: the problem is self-consciousness. All of the other cats' techniques are conscious contrivances, and so not in harmony with the Way. "To make Nature display its mysterious way of achieving things is to do away with all your own thinking, contriving, and acting; let Nature have her own way ... and there will be no shadows, no signs, no traces whereby you can be caught; you have then no foes who can successfully resist you. ... But there is one most essential consideration which when neglected is sure to upset everything. This is: not to cherish even a speck of self-conscious thought.... When you are in the state of mind known as 'mindlessness' (mushin), you act in unison with Nature without resorting at all to artificial contrivances. The Way, however, is above all limitation, and all this talk of mine is far from being exhaustive as far as the Way is concerned.

Sometime ago there was in my neighborhood a cat who passed all her time in sleeping, showing no sign of spiritual-animal power, and looking like a wooden image. People never saw her catch a single rat, but wherever she roamed about no rats ever dared to appear in her presence. I once visited her and asked for the reason. She gave no answer. I repeated my query four times, but she remained silent. It was not that she was unwilling to answer, but in truth she did not know how to answer. So we note that one who knows speaks not a word, while one who speaks knows not. That old cat was forgetful not only of herself but all things about her, she was the one who realized divine warriorship and killed not. I am not to be compared to her."

What has this to do with us Catholics? This posting has gone on long enough, so I'll save my reflections for next time.