Appearances can be deceiving. In The Book of Five Rings, Miyamoto Musashi describes the difference between appearance and substance. When you watch someone punch, kick, or block, you see only the outside of the movement. But there is an inside to the movement as well. And the inside determines how powerful and effective the move really is.
The same is true for forms, or poomsae. You want your form to look clean, of course, but the purpose of the form is not just visual. Its goal is to prepare you for attack. If the substance of your form is weak or shallow, it doesn’t really matter how good you look.
While I’ve certainly noticed this in my martial arts practice, I see this most clearly in yoga. Take mountain pose, for example. Mountain pose looks like you are doing nothing. You stand, feet hip-width apart, arms to your side, fingers stretched wide. The yoga instructor asks you to lift your head and ground down through your feet. If you do the pose correctly, it can be very invigorating. It requires strength and attentiveness.
But you could also just stand there. And if you’re in the right position, you look about the same as the person next to you who is intentionally holding the pose.
Nobody but you knows the effort you’re putting into the pose. The appearance is in full view, but the substance is often hidden.
My taekwondo instructor knows this, of course, which is why he regularly walks around the room pushing back on our outstretched fists, or bringing a stick down to test our blocking arm. He’s checking the appearance as well as the substance.
Being without substance catches up with you at some point, of course. Someone can fake appearance for a while, maybe even a long while, but eventually, reality will test you. You falter in a yoga pose that requires true strength. You lose a sparring match. You stumble when your teacher pushes on your fist. Substance matters. It’s why we train.
This bit of ninja wisdom feels especially prevalent in light of the college admissions scandal in the news this week. Appearances- even impressive ones like elite college acceptance letters- can be empty and bankrupt of all meaning. And make no mistake, those empty appearances will be found out. You may be able to fake a high test score, but a student can’t fake a curious mind or a thoughtful intellect in a classroom discussion. Soon enough, appearance falters.
I don’t intend to create more anxiety around impostor syndrome, which we all experience. All of us can feel like we’re one bad day away from being discovered as frauds. Which is why it’s imperative to remember that while appearances can indeed be deceiving, substance can be, too. We often overlook substance because it doesn’t look like what we expect or assume. But substance can be very tricky; it’s hidden, and it comes in many forms. And sometimes, substance becomes present to us in those moments when we are truly tested and show up.
We are often surprised at our own substance, because we tend to underestimate ourselves.
It’s far better to have a messy form with substance than a perfect form without it. This is a counter-intuitive lesson in a society so focused on image and appearance. I remember being on a beach once and seeing a girl prep for a yoga photo. She was in pincha stance, which requires a lot of strength, especially on the sand. She couldn’t do it. But she had her friend hold her legs, and her other friend take a picture that cropped out her supporting friend. I wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but it just made me sad. Her energy would be better spent focused on growing the strength to hold the pose honestly.
How can you use your energy this week to cultivate substance? Can you release yourself from all the energy required to keep up an appearance? Where can you be mindful of the ways you may be judging someone’s substance unfairly?
