Shinka! Shinka! Shinka!

[Fishy 2709]

FOREWORD: These being the words and philosophy of Shugo Tsukinomiya Honda, Dai Yondaime as transcribed by Tsukinokenin Kawasaki. They represent his thoughts in his final years on the Samurai of Kurai-Kuni. They do not represent the customs and styles of the Samurai of other domains, only Kurai-Kuni.
 

春

 

進化

 

Shinka

 

The Spring of Shinka is brought on by shinkō, the development of one’s physical form. From the day we are born our shinkō begins. We learn to grasp, to crawl, to walk. The physical body develops rapidly in the first days of life. It requires nourishment both to grow and to sustain itself, but also challenges to firm muscle from fat.

 

If the body is not nourished, it will wither and die. Those that subsist on mana alone will find their form compromised, as is common amongst the practitioners of kuku mahō. Proper sustenance should consist of red meat, dairy, and eggs. Pork should be avoided as swine are unclean creatures. In the absence of meat, blood is the material essence of life and may serve as a substitute. Blood contains all that is required for shinkō, which is why many yokai are drawn to it as creatures lacking in material firmament. Practitioners of mahō no chi will likewise puddle in blood given its potency. However, chido users fail to realize that all that their mahō promises is what the body was capable of to begin with; they should have eaten more meat. Furthermore, drinking blood is vulgar in civilized societies and likely to spread contagion so it is best avoided.

 

If the body is nourished but not challenged, it will grow like a weed. High in volume, but without substance. A weed lacks strength; it propagates itself wherever it finds nourishment. While one may pluck a weed, it is just as likely to come back the next day. One may pluck a thousand weeds, and they will bring beauty to their village for a thousand days. If one strives to pluck every weed, then their shinkō will never cease. It is impossible to pluck every weed, it is the kani in which we all persist. It is by attempting such regardless that we experience shinkō; challenge necessitates development and development necessitates challenge. This experience is what allows us to learn what we are truly capable of. A man who expires before learning what their body is capable of is a pitiful thing.

 

If the body is both nourished and challenged, then shinkō is achieved. It is from shinkō that one may achieve the Spring; to exceed a limit. One and one’s ancestors toiled beneath their limitations, be it size, strength, agility, or perception. By shinkō, one gains the ability to surpass what was previously possible. It is a fundamental truth that all children learn this instinctively. One day they can only crawl, the next they can walk, then they might finally run. Each generation that ingrains this contributes to their descendant’s shinka. The body is thus cultivated of their ancestor’s shinkō, each increment raising the bar of what the next is capable of. It is the realization of this physicality that allows the Spring of Shinka to bloom, from which all other shinka arises.

 

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夏

 

超進化

 

Chō Shinka

 

The Summer of Shinka is brought on by the accumulation, pursuit, and usage of knowledge. It is accomplished when knowledge transforms into wisdom. Its beginning varies from person to person. Some may start when their thoughts can weave their first words, others when they are old enough to write their clan’s name. The mind requires a permanence of thought and idea coupled with the faintest ability to create abstractions. Not all learning is encompassed by the Summer, wisdom must be carefully cultivated in accordance with one’s profession.

 

One can spend a thousand years upon this earth and never realize the Summer. Likewise, one can diligently study the greatest scholars and scrolls and still never achieve the Summer. It is through one’s experiences that it is defined. To learn a mahō is no substitute for practical experience. One may learn its rhythm, its pace, yet have no concept of its application. Whether studying an adversary or one’s own weapons, there are unspoken rules and implications written into every action and inaction. To know them all is an impossibility. To attempt knowing them all invites insanity. One who has achieved this shinka knows their own, and knows them well.

 

With the accumulation of experiences, these useful grains of knowledge, one ferments a potent wisdom. Too much can poison the mind, too little renders one blind. Like a good sake, it is clear in both purpose and form. Wisdom by knowing what is essential to themselves, and tuning out what is not, is the clarity one should seek. Knowing the celestial movements of the Heavens is of paramount importance to a sailor, however, a warrior does not gain by dwelling upon such in the course of battle. One’s wisdom is specialized; one’s shinka is specialized. The Oni achieves the Summer at a base level; its most instinctual expression is in the mind of no mind.

 

To be ultimately ignorant is not the Summer. The truest realization of the Summer is when one’s accumulated knowledge transforms into collective wisdom. It is wisdom that transcends generations, such as gold being the bane of kegare. How many generations passed before this was learned none might say. Once this knowledge became the collective wisdom, however, it forever changed the manner in which kegare were fought; it became second nature. To contribute one’s own wisdom in this manner is the Summer of Shinka, pushing further the limits of knowledge for the next generation. 

 

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秋

 

究極進化

 

Kyūkyoku Shinka

 

The Autumn of Shinka is brought on by the crystallization of one’s mastery. It begins when one is of the shōnen age. Whether with Bisutofoma or by learning their father’s trade, these experiences accumulate into ability. Earning recognition coincides with the height of Autumn, as one reaches the pinnacle of their craft. Too, however, with this comes the narrowing of the path. Autumn is only truly ripe when the forest grows bare.

 

The forest is of one’s own potential, as it is realized it withers. With each step a leaf falls. This is the double-edged sword that haunts the mind of the elderly, for they have few leaves left. What mastery they have accrued has only drawn tight the noose; a forgone conclusion. This is why unrealized potential is the most bitter beverage; it is why humanity propagates and dominates. Time to realize his potential is more precious to a man than his lifeblood. His forest is already falling by the time he can step into it with mindfulness.

 

In this barren wood, one must persevere through the mire to attain their ultimate shinka, the summit of their mortal abilities. As in nature, Autumn must be preceded by Spring and Summer. They are the bedrock from which the forest grows. Without their development, the forest is sparse and pitiful. With their development, the forest is full and abundant. There is nothing more beautiful than the full Autumn when leaves hang in red, orange, and gold. This fleeting beauty is that of a life well lived, it is something that all seek to obtain for themselves. 

 

This is a shinka of contrasts, there is as much beauty as there is ugliness in it. When one holds onto the dreams of youth, they continue to radiate beauty. When one gives in to their own cynicism, they wither and dim. To guide this shinka one must envision with clarity the form they wish to take. Then one must pursue it without a single step back. Regret and indecision only serve to impede the natural progression of this shinka. The skills one masters in this pursuit redefine them. While they sever alternative paths, they define the path forward. By continuing to follow this path, even once all else has fallen, one achieves the Autumn of Shinka. It is from this achievement that the forest is revealed to us, so that we may learn from our ancestors and refine our own path through the Autumn of Shinka. 

 

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冬

 

最終進化

 

Saishū Shinka

 

The Winter of Shinka is brought on by death. It is only with such finality that the purpose of a life is determined. With purpose, the potential of a life is ended. It is bleak, it is stark, it is cruel. All shinka meet their end within the Winter. Yet, too is it from the Winter that the shinka of others may begin. The greatest of deaths pushes the next generation onwards, to aspire to ever greater heights. The aspiration of all is that their death may serve twice the purpose of their life. 

The Way of the Samurai is death; bushido is to live as though one were already dead. A thousand and one scrolls explain this truth, expanded upon by minds wiser than I. However, what few realize is this is not the worship of Nokumi-sama and her shinigami; it is not a code of death. In the practice of bushido, one transcends through their awareness of death, liberated to absolute freedom, from which it is possible to perfectly fulfill one's calling as a warrior. Such a liberated mortality grants one the final shinka, to surpass the limits of life. It is to do the impossible, to see the invisible. It is to contradict all contradictions. With one’s life, heart, and soul on the line all barriers fall. 

 

Death is inevitable for all. No power in the Heavens or upon this earth supersedes it. All such claims to the contrary are merely an extension of the Autumn; a return to the narrowing path. One should engage the Winter within the span of seven breaths. Only then one has determined their spirit to break on through to the other side. If one’s head is to be taken with certainty, then they should perform a final, single action with the same certainty. By such determination does one remain master of their purpose. Revenge is likewise the determination to kill, there is no long way around to it. Revenge is to be pursued with immediacy; it is best to dash in, a headlong rush. Such resolution is the onslaught Winter brings with it. 

 

The seasons change obliviously. Before long, one passes to the next. They are ever present, a facet of existence. By gaining awareness of them, may one consciously strengthen what they pass on. In this shinka is attained. The final act of the Winter is one which thrusts forward the frontier of possibilities. By it, a continuous progression can be maintained as those that come after reach further than those that came before. Even if such advancement is trite, it shall compound generation by generation. The Winter consumes all for this purpose, body, heart, and soul. One’s death is likewise consumed by Winter. To choose the time and place of death is a liberty few are spared. At this moment one is not powerless, however. In the exchange, one may write the final words of their tale. What is written shall become a mantra to the next; a fire lit in the depths of the Winter of Shinka. 

 

Edited May 3 by Fishy

[Reckless Banzai Screamer 15456]

"Wise words cousin," Ena spoke to himself as he'd seek to have the late Shugo's writings transcribed for the library - to sit beside the writings of the previous lords of the Stratocracy they bled for.