Shugyo and choices.

Shugyo – a term frequently heard in Aikido circles – is generally defined as austerity or intensity in training. However, this does not necessarily mean simply training more or harder. (How then could an 80-year-old martial artist be the embodiment of shugyo as they so often are?)

Another term – musha-shugyo – dates back to Japan’s feudal era. Musha-shugyo is a pilgrimage whereby a serious disciple of the martial arts embarks on a journey across the countryside to visit other schools principally for one of two reasons:

One, to prove the superiority of their own lineage, school and skills or

Two, to improve their own skills by experiencing other schools and approaches.

It is here that a useful interpretation of shugyo might be extracted. The first agenda above I might typify as an articulation of the Western Ego. The second agenda I would typify as of Eastern Ego. I have written about Western Ego vs. Eastern Ego before. As I see it, few of us today are 100% of either. Mostly we are a dynamically shifting blend of the two. As young children, white belts in martial arts or junior executives we see the size of the world before us and eagerly absorb as much knowledge as we can.

As we get older and more experienced we begin to believe we know something. With that knowledge often comes a sense of entitlement and a nagging desire to protect our hard-earned status and knowledge.

I have observed this watching my older daughter boss my younger one around. I have seen this in my dojo where relatively new students with a little training suddenly begin ‘teaching’ in class when working with anyone junior to them. And I have seen this in office parks where VPs push the repercussions of their own failings down the pyramid so that  some junior is coming in on the weekend to make up for lost time. Worse still I have heard these things glorified as ‘paying dues’, ‘good training’ or ‘good experience’. They can be, but not when offered or forced upon the junior as a means of taking advantage of status.

I have argued before that experience is a requisite for expertise. However, earned expertise brings with it temptations. These temptations are well-known to anyone who has become even a little ‘good’ at something. There is the temptation to boast. There is the temptation to compete with people you know you can beat. There is temptation to shut out new ideas and different approaches. I have felt and acted on all of these temptations at points in my life. Try as I might, it is very hard to resist them.

Shugyo is a means to do so. Shugyo, to me, is a mindfulness to make choices that counteract complacency and homeostasis. In this sense it is ongoing training inside the office, the dojo, or anywhere.

In Aikido these are some of the choices to be mindfully considered:

  • Do I clean the toilet in the dojo or wait for someone else to do it?
  • Do I partner with people smaller and easier to throw or find someone bigger and more challenging?
  • Do I attend beginners class to refine my basics or to ‘help’ the junior students (meaning show them what I know)?
  • Do I train day in and day out, consistently, or heavy up right before rank exams?

Among executives these choices might also be considered as shugyo:

  • Do I hire and encourage people who will tell me what I want to hear or instead people who will give me their honest assessment even if it potentially offends me? (And can I choose not to be offended in such case?)
  • Do I do research simply to validate my beliefs and assumptions or instead do I sincerely endeavor to discover something I did not know?
  • Though I ask for them, do I really want out of the box ideas? The kind that challenge my expertise and perhaps are better than my own ideas?
  • Do I empower people working with me to make decisions even if they might make different decisions than I would?
  • When someone is arguing a point, am I listening with an open mind or just waiting my turn to counter their opinion with my own?

I come up against all of these questions again and again in my life. At times I behave the way I would hope I do. At others, I do not. This is the process of shugyo and why it is ongoing.

Of course, the pendulum swings the other way too. Equally dangerous to the tunnel vision of me-centric Western Ego is falling into a rut of romanticized ‘selflessness’ that becomes an insular bubble.

The Aikido student who hides behind the phrase ‘I don’t care about rank’ in order to avoid the challenge and stress of testing is akin to the executive who never forms an opinion of her own, never takes a stance, and never sticks his neck out by challenging group-think or offering a contrarian perspective. It is easy to hide behind ‘putting others first’ and in doing so to miss numerous opportunities to develop one’s self.

Shugyo is ultimately about choosing to act on the more challenging option – whatever that option is. It is about looking inwardly at our own tendencies to protect our status quo and place in the scheme of things and then making a decision to go against those impulses. In this way, shugyo is a thousand decisions made every day and it changes as we change. This is intense and exhausting training indeed.

As the year winds down I find myself reflecting on my own tendencies as both an Aikido practitioner and teacher and as a businessman. Though often dismissed, the quintessential ‘New Year’s Resolution’ can be useful when taken as an opportunity to earnestly consider how to improve ones self in the coming year. I am evaluating what shugyo will mean to me in 2010. It is an interesting exercise.

I will wrap this up with one of my favorite maxims. It comes from a translation of the Book Of Five Rings and I find it is appropriate in almost everything I do:

“Too much is the same as not enough.”

In relationships. In diet.  In exercise. In learning. In playing. In resting. In working. In everything. Something I like to dwell on as I look out at the blank slate of 2010 with high hopes for a great new year.

The Business of Samu: A Martial Arts Perspective on Executive Leadership

bamboobroomIn addition to working in the business world, I have spent over half my life in the martial arts. I now have students of my own who I instruct. Often times I am asked if I ‘ever had to use it [martial arts] in real life.’

In a world where most of us won’t get into physical fights for the remainder of our lives, martial arts presents some other useful tools and concepts that we can take with us out of the dojo and into the ‘real world’ of business and relationships.

I’d like to share one of those concepts with you as I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. The term is samu. Samu simply translated means something akin to ‘small chores’. It is popular among Zen monasteries and used both in the communal upkeep of the place and as a working form of meditation. Samu is also integral to the traditional martial arts dojo.

I believe samu belongs in business too. In fact, it belongs in the heart of every business person – especially the senior most executives. Here are some lessons to be learned from samu:

If something needs to be done, just do it. Don’t wait for someone else. Don’t find reasons to delay. If you know something needs to be done, you should do it. That may be scheduling a meeting, putting together a presentation, or making photocopies for a meeting. If businesses worked this way things would get done sooner. We’ve probably all sat in a status meeting where a task comes up and everyone looks at everyone else and says “I thought you were doing that?”

No one is too big for small tasks. In the dojo, if toilet needs cleaning, clean it, regardless of whether you are a black belt or a white belt. I sweep the floor of my dojo alongside the newest students, often showing them the proper way to sweep (you can tell a lot about a person’s Aikido by the quality of their sweeping). A student who doesn’t head immediately for the broom closet after class is seen in a poor light. They are likely not to be a good student because they value themselves above what they are learning. This is not too different from an executive who values his time more than other people’s. No one really likes that guy and that impacts his ability to lead.

In a traditional tea ceremony hut in Japan the door is so low you have to crawl through it. This is intentional. By design, even the greatest warrior or lord must humble himself and get on his knees to enter. When executives and leaders are willing to spend some time in the trenches now and then, they connect with their employees and customers. They will hopefully also come to appreciate all the hard work that is done to keep that leader looking good for customers, the board of directors, and the media.

Small tasks reveal big insights. Doing the small chores provides experiential insight than can be very important. Ask an experienced mother about baby products. She will have a mental list of those obviously created, ‘by some single guy who’s never tried to feed a baby while answering the phone’.  Doing the small chores is in essence walking a mile in your assembly worker’s shoes. Or your  salesman’s. Or your customer’s. The insights are invaluable in engineering efficiency and innovation into your business.

The greatest risk of clawing your way to the corner office of the executive floor is that once you get behind the mahogany desk you become comfortable, perhaps complacent, and choose to only spend time in the corner office of the executive floor – far away from employees and customers.

Samu builds pride and community. When the CEO is willing to spend time in the trenches it sends a signal. When employees feel empowered to make suggestions and know the leadership relates to them not from an ivory tower but from a shared experience with the ‘dirty details’ of the business, it sends a signal. It is the opposite signal the Big Three auto makers sent when they flew to the government hearings rather than driving.

Being ‘out of touch’ has cost companies market share, executives jobs and Presidential candidates elections. If you want people to follow in the direction you’re going, they need to believe that you have stood where they stand.

Back in the dojo… Many prospective students walk in my door with romantic notions of the samurai and martial arts. I sometimes begin by explaining to them that  the word ‘samu’ is part of ‘samurai’. In fact, samurai means ‘one who serves’. The senior executive should embody this sense of service… to shareholders of course, but also to employees, strategic partners, customers and the community.

I believe samu has much to offer business people. When an executive begins to feel swept up in the momentum of their own accomplishments it is a cue that perhaps it is time to pick up a broom and sweep up the factory floor.

It is at our own peril that we allow ourselves to become to big to do small things.