ENGROSSING AND INSPIRING
A Story Containing Important Lessons
A Story that I Always Enjoy Whenever I Read
The story you are about to read below is the one that I have shared with my friends on Facebook many times. And two months ago, I also shared it on Medium. I always enjoy it whenever I read. It is very touching for me, and it contains important lessons. Therefore, I want to share it here with those who have not read it before and with those who want to read it once more, as well.
Enjoy it…
One day in Tokyo, I experienced one of the turning points of my life.
It was a spring afternoon, and the train was quite empty. There were a few housewives and two or three elderly couples in the wagon who were out shopping with their children.
The train stopped at the stations, and there were not many people getting on or off.
At a station, a drunk, dirty, smelly worker-looking man came in, shouting at the top of his lungs.
He staggered inside, dried vomit on him and smelling rancid. He shook his fist at the first person he came across, a woman carrying a baby.
As the woman stepped back, the fist hit her in the shoulder, sending her flying into the arms of an elderly couple at the other end of the wagon. It was a miracle that the punch didn’t hit the baby.
While an old woman was trying to get up and move away from the drunk, the man kicked her too. While the woman was avoiding the drunk man’s kick, the drunk shouted,
“You dirty bitch…”
He was cursing.
He wanted to remove the iron in the middle of the wagon. I saw that his right hand was bleeding.
While everyone was cowering in fear, he looked around to figure out who to attack.
I got up from where I was sitting.
At that time, I was six feet tall, weighed 100 kilos, and trained in Aikido for eight hours a day.
I had full confidence in myself. I haven’t tried myself in real combat yet.
Aikido should never have been used as a means of attack.
My teacher constantly told me that Aikido should be used as a force of peace, but only as a fighting tool if necessary to protect others.
Aikido is used to resolve conflict, not to create conflict, as my teacher used to say.
My respect for my teacher was so high that I remember changing the sidewalk several times to avoid fighting with street thugs.
But I had this desire:
“If a justified situation arises, I can apply what I know to someone who unjustly disturbs others and oppresses the weak.”
“Here”, I said.
“Now is the time to apply what I know. This rude, insolent brat is drunk, abusive, and aggressive towards women and children.”
“If I don’t let him know his place, now he will hurt an innocent.”
I could give him hell with peace of mind.
When he saw me standing, he took one look and spat out,
“This foreign bastard needs a lesson on how to respect the Japanese.”
I was rocking lightly on my feet, holding the iron on the ceiling of the wagon, which made him angry.
I looked at him dismissively and condescendingly. I was going to lay this guy’s carcass on the ground.
He was big and burly, but drunk and angry.
I was cool-headed, well-trained, and had the confidence of someone who knew exactly what to do.
“Let me teach you a lesson; don’t forget it, pimp…”
He said and walked towards me.
I didn’t move at all. He took a full stance to attack me. He wouldn’t be able to understand what had happened.
Seconds before he attacked me, someone yelled,
“Hey!”
He was calling out to the drunk man. It was a high, shrill voice, but it was immediately obvious that it belonged to someone who was confident and cheerful. This voice echoed the tone of someone who had found something, saying,
“Look what I found.”
Both me and the drunk turned around and saw this little old man.
He must have been in his seventies, and he was immaculately dressed in his kimono and hakama.
He wasn’t looking at me at all, but he was looking at the drunk worker with a smile in his eyes as if he was going to share an important secret with him.
“Come here.”
He gestured with his hand,
“Come here and talk to me.”
The drunk went to the old man as if he were a puppet with a string tied to him.
He stood in front of him, looked at this little old man from above, and said,
“What do you want, dried-up piece of man?
If I fart, I will knock you down.”
If the drunk man tried to attack the old man, I would immediately take him under me.
But the old man, with no fear in his eyes, asked him, laughing.
“What were you drinking, my friend?”
He insulted the old man by saying:
“I was drinking saki, monkey-faced old man.
What do you care about what I drink?”
The old man said,
“It is very beautiful.
It’s really nice because I love saki.
Every evening, my wife and I — she is now seventy-six years old — warm up some saki, sit in our garden on the divan that my grandfather’s students made for him, and drink our saki slowly.
We watch the sun set and look at our date-trees.
Our dates were damaged by last year’s cold.
My grandfather’s grandfather planted those date-trees.
We drink saki, look at the date-trees, and watch the sun set…”
He was looking at the drunk man’s face with a smiling face, with the ease and affection of a friend talking to another.
The drunk man’s face began to soften as he tried to follow the details of what the old man was saying.
His clenched fists relaxed, and when the old man finished speaking, he said,
“I like saki, too.”
And his voice gradually softened, losing its former harshness.
The old man said,
“Yes, and I’m sure you have a wonderful lady too.”
The drunkard began to shake his head sadly.
“No, I have no wife, no family.”
With a nod that matched the sway of the train, he repeated his words,
“I have no wife… I have no family….”
He paused for a moment and said in a soft voice that did not match his previous state:
“I have neither a wife nor a house nor clothes…
I have no money…
I have no tools…
I have no place to sleep…
I am ashamed of myself.”
While the burly drunk was sobbing, his whole body was shaking.
Above him, an advertisement was talking about the comforts of a residential resort.
What the advertisement said and the scene before my eyes right now were completely ironic.
This irony struck me deeply. I suddenly felt ashamed of myself.
I was ashamed of my clean clothes and my ‘make this world a safe place for democracy’ attitude.
I felt more dirty and inferior than that drunk man.
The old man listened to him with understanding, saying,
“Wow, that’s really bad luck.”
But his happy and enthusiastic eyes were still the same.
“Come, sit here!
Come on, tell me all about it.”
Meanwhile, the train had arrived at the station where I would get off.
The station was very crowded, and as soon as the door opened, people rushed into the train.
As I was getting out of the wagon, I looked back again.
The drunk worker collapsed on the bench like a sack and put his head on the old man’s lap.
The old man was caressing the dried, vomit-covered head.
There was understanding and compassion in his eyes.
As the train was leaving the station, I wanted to sit on a bench there and review this life.
What I was trying to achieve with muscle and bone, an old man achieved with a smile and a few sentences full of understanding and compassion.
I realized that I saw real Aikido now.
As its founder said, Aikido was an art of negotiation, not a fighting tool.
I felt stupid, aggressive, and rude.
After this incident, I realized that I needed to practice Aikido with a completely different approach.
A person’s reality is created by the world he perceives.
One of the most important factors affecting a person’s perception is the intention with which that person looks at the world.
Each of us sees in others what we carry in our own hearts.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
With Love 🙏🏻
