The Way of the Bow by Paulo Coelho (reading in the dark .TXT) 📕

is poor that morning, you will try to find out what could have caused such imprecision; this will mean confronting the problem that is troubling you, but which, up until then, has remained hidden.

The opposite can happen too: your aim is true, the string hums like a musical instrument, the birds are singing all around. Then you realise that you are giving of your best.

Nevertheless, do not allow yourself to be carried away by how you shoot in the morning, whether well or badly. There are many more days ahead, and each arrow is a life in itself.

Use your bad moments to discover what makes you tremble. Use your good moments to find your road to inner peace.

But do not stop either out of fear or joy: the way of the bow has no end.

10. The Moment of releasing the Arrow

There are two types of shot.

The first is the shot made with great precision, but without any soul. In this case, although the archer may have a great mastery of technique, he has concentrated solely on the target and because of this he has not evolved, he has become stale, he has not managed to grow, and, one day, he will abandon the way of the bow because he finds that everything has become mere routine.

The second type of shot is the one made with the soul. When the intention of the archer is transformed into the flight of the arrow, his hand opens at the right moment, the sound of the string makes the birds sing, and the gesture of shooting something over a distance provokes - paradoxically enough - a return to and an encounter with oneself.

You know the effort it took to draw the bow, to breathe correctly, to concentrate on the target, to be clear about your intention, to maintain elegance of posture, to respect the target, but you need to understand, too, that nothing in this world stays with us for very long: at a given moment, your hand will have to open and allow your intention to follow its destiny.

Therefore, the arrow must leave, however much you love all the steps that led to the elegant posture and the correct intention, and however much you admire its feathers, its point, its shape.

However, it cannot leave before the archer is ready to shoot, because its flight would be too brief. It cannot leave after the exact posture and concentration have been achieved because the body would be unable to withstand the effort and the hand would begin to shake.

It must leave at the moment when bow, archer and target are at the same point in the universe: this is called inspiration.

11. Repetition

The gesture is the incarnation of the verb, that is, an action is a thought made manifest.

A small gesture betrays us, so we must polish everything, think about details, learn the technique in such a way that it becomes intuitive. Intuition has nothing to do with routine, but with a state of mind that is beyond technique.

So, after much practising, we no longer think about the necessary movements, they become part of our own existence. But for this to happen, you must practise and repeat.

And if that isn’t enough, you must repeat and practise.

Look at the skilled hammersmith working steel. To the untrained eye, he is merely repeating the same hammer blows.

But anyone who knows the way of the bow, knows that each time he lifts the hammer and brings it down, the intensity of the blow is different. The hand repeats the same gesture, but as it approaches the metal, it understands that it must touch it with more or less force.

So it is with repetition, although it may appear to be the same thing, it is always different.

Look at the windmill. To someone who glances at its sails only once, they seem to be moving at the same speed, repeating the same movement.

But those familiar with windmills know that they are controlled by the wind and change direction as necessary.

The hand of the hammersmith was trained by repeating the gesture of hammering thousands of times. The sails of the windmill can move fast when the wind blows hard and thus ensure that its gears run smoothly.

The archer allows many arrows to go far beyond the target, because he knows that he will only learn the importance of bow, posture, string and target, by repeating his gestures thousands of time and by not being afraid of making mistakes.

And his true allies will never criticise him, because they know that practise is necessary, that it is the only way in which he can perfect his instinct, his hammer blow.

And then comes the moment when he no longer has to think about what he is doing. From then on, the archer becomes his bow, his arrow and his target.

12. How to observe the Flight of the Arrow

Once the arrow has been shot, there is nothing more the archer can do, except follow its path to the target. From that moment on, the tension required to shoot the arrow has no further reason to exist.

Therefore, the archer keeps his eyes fixed on the flight of the arrow, but his heart rests, and he smiles.

The hand that released the bow-string is thrust back, the hand holding the bow moves forward, the archer is forced to open wide his arms and confront, chest exposed and with a sincere heart, the gaze of both allies and opponents.

If he has practised enough, if he has managed to develop his instinct, if he has maintained elegance and concentration throughout the whole process of shooting the arrow, he will, at that moment, feel the presence of the universe and will see that his action was just and deserved.

Technique allows both hands to be ready, breathing to be precise, the eyes to be trained on the target. Instinct allows the moment of release to be perfect.

Anyone passing nearby and seeing the archer with his arms open, his eyes following the arrow, will think that nothing is happening.

But his allies know that the mind of the person who made the shot has changed dimensions, it is now in touch with the whole universe; the mind continues to work, learning all the positive things about that shot, correcting possible errors, accepting its good qualities, and waiting to see how the target reacts when it is hit.

When the archer draws the bow-string, he can see the whole world in his bow.

When he follows the flight of the arrow, that world grows closer to him, caresses him and gives him a perfect sense of duty fulfilled.

Each arrow flies differently. You can shoot a thousand arrows and each one will follow a different trajectory: that is the way of the bow.

13. The Archer without the Bow, without the Arrow, without Target

The archer learns when he forgets all about the rules of the way of the bow and goes on to act entirely on instinct. In order, though, to be able to forget the rules, it is necessary to respect them and to know them.

When he reaches this state, he no longer

needs the instruments that helped him to learn. He no longer needs the bow or the arrows or the target, because the path is more important than the thing that first set him on that path.

In the same way, the student learning to read reaches a point when he frees himself from the individual letters and begins to make words out of them.

However, if the words were all run together, they would make no sense at all or would make understanding extremely hard; there have to be spaces between the words.

Between one action and the next, the archer remembers everything he has done, he talks with his allies, he rests and is content with the fact of being alive.

The way of the bow is the way of joy and enthusiasm, of perfection and error, of technique and instinct.

But you will only learn this if you keep shooting your arrows.

14.

By the time Tetsuya stopped talking, they had reached the carpentry workshop.

‘Thank you for your company,’ he said to the boy.

But the boy did not leave.

‘How can I know if I’m doing the right thing? How can I be sure that my eyes are concentrating, that my posture is elegant, that I’m holding the bow correctly?’

‘Visualise the perfect master always by your side and do everything to revere him and to honour his teachings. This master, whom many people call God, although some call him ‘the thing’ and others ‘talent’, is always watching us. He deserves the best.

“Remember your allies too: you must support them, because they will help you at those moments when you need help. Try to develop the gift of kindness: this gift will allow you to be always at peace with your heart. But, above all, never forget that what I have told you might perhaps be words of inspiration, but they will only make sense if you experience them yourself.’

Tetsuya held out his hand to say goodbye, but the boy said:

‘One other thing, how did you learn to shoot a bow?’

Tetsuya thought for a moment: was it worth telling the story? Since this had been a special day, he opened the door to his workshop and said:

‘I’m going to make some tea, and I’m going to tell you the story, but you have to promise the same thing I made the stranger promise - never tell anyone about my skill as an archer.’

He went in, put on the light, wrapped his bow up again in the long strip of leather and placed it out of sight. If anyone stumbled upon it, they would think it was just a piece of warped bamboo. He went into the kitchen, made the tea, sat down with the boy and began his story.

15. Tetsuya’s Story

I was working for a great nobleman who lived in the region; I was in charge of looking after his stables. But since my master was always travelling, I had a great deal of free time, and so I decided to devote myself to what I considered to be the real reason for living: drink and women.

One day, after several nights without sleep, I felt dizzy and collapsed in the middle of the countryside, far from anywhere. I thought I was going to die and gave up all hope. However, a man I had never seen before happened to pass along that road; he helped me and took me to his house - a place far from here - and nursed me back to health during the months that followed.

While I was recovering, I used to see him set out every morning with his bow and arrows.

When I felt better, I asked him to teach me the art of the bow; it was far more interesting than looking after horses. He told me that my death had come a great deal closer, and that now I could not drive it away. It was just two paces away from me, for I had done great physical harm to my body.

If I wanted to learn, it would only be in order to keep death from touching me. A man in a far-off land, on the other side of the ocean, had taught him that it was possible to avoid for some time the road that led to the precipice of death. But in my case, for the rest of my days, I needed to be aware that I was walking along the edge of this abyss and could fall into it at any moment.

He taught me the way