‘The right art,’ cried the Master, ‘is purposeless, aimless! The more obstinately you try to learn how to shoot the arrow for the sake of hitting the goal, the less you will succeed in one and the further the other will recede. What stands in your way is that you have too much willful willPut the thought of hitting right out of your mind! You can be a Master even if every shot does not hit.’

Eugen Herrigel’s cryptic, yet truth laden epiphany from Zen in the Art of Archery, perplexed and compelled me, and changed the course of my academic career. One would expect the word ‘master’ to denote the archer who infallibly strikes the target, or matto; yet paradoxically Mr. Herrigel seems to say that the master archer is one who never so succeeds. My fascination with Japanese Archery, called Kyudo, literally the Way of the Bow, inspired me to pursue an intellectual quest, a yearlong sojourn to Japan, and a journey around the world. In trying to further understand Japan, Zen, and ultimately my own being, I began the study of Kyudo at the Ehime University Kyudo Dojo in Matsuyama, Japan. I again had the opportunity to experience first-hand the tradition, rectitude, and vigor of the training at the White Rose Dojo in Dartford, England while part of the Colgate University London Economics Study Program.
The essence of true Kyudo is about the act of doing, unfettered by subsidiary aims. The Kyudo practitioner endeavors to refine the details of each element in the training, and through his meticulous attention and observation, gains insight into himself, others, and the world at large. Such details include etiquette, the technique of the movements of the archery, Aisatsu (addressing superiors and the practice hall, or Dojo, with due respect), and Soji (cleaning the Dojo and surrounds). Kyudo must be practiced in the right space, wearing the right garb, entering, exiting, walking, collecting arrows, and meditating at the beginning and end of practice, all with a contemplative, spiritual effort. One attends to the details as if they are the sole justification for Kyudo, and in doing so learns to draw the bow well. The archer’s form is thus naturally good and hitting the matto will follow in turn. The archer is to draw the bow with mental energy, not just the action of his muscles, and through the release of the shot, the archer is able to demonstrate his true character and inner strength. If he flinches, then the underlying character is unsteady. Those who have learned to perceive what each element represents see the ritual of drawing and firing the Bow as the opening of a window to the archer’s soul because it is suffused with many layers of practice and understanding.
Metaphorically, Law School is the Dojo in which to learn the Way of the Law. There one trains to gain insight; etiquette, Aisatsu, and Soji are replaced by the learning of procedure, legal process, and substantive law. For the student of law, a nation’s legal structure is the ‘Bow’ through which one can see into the true character of a nation to the extent that the law is lacquered with lessons from its historical ideology. A society reveals a perverse character when it uses its laws for unjust ends. The traditions of Kyudo have removed the Bow from its original context as a weapon of destruction thus creating a martial art practiced in the absence of an opponent. The adversarial system then becomes a system of personal evolution. When the law is seen as such, it is the moral guide by which an entire society evolves and like Kyudo, the means is as important as the end.

Catalyst to societal evolution is technological innovation, such as global computer and telecommunication networks. Technology, always improving with an endpoint rapidly receding into the future, is like the matto in the sense that it is futile to target. The variety and amount of information that is provided by networks imbues the power to transcend ideological, spatial, and international boundaries. This unbounded access universally enhances perception and thereby improves the effectiveness of the Bow as a window. One who is undaunted by the matto and has mastery of insight, is then increasingly more able to enlighten his society from tyranny and oppression.

Through the thoughtful study of jurisprudence one gains insight, understanding, and eventually a mastery of the Law. The measure of mastery is the perfection of the form to an art. The Master is one who succeeds by a far greater measure of performance than the binary outcome which the matto indicates. To a master, the target is a point infinitely far away. Kyudo then becomes ‘standing meditation’ and the Archery is simply a vessel in which to hold the concept of being uninhibited by the end goal. What we can draw from Mr. Herrigel's use of the word ‘master’ is that it means more than one with just the mastery of accuracy, or of technique, or of form, he is the Master of an aesthetic.