Eugen Herrigel, in his cult classic Zen in the Art of Archery, quotes his master, Kenzo Awa:
“The right art (…) is purposeless, aimless! The more obstinately you try to learn how to shoot the arrow for the sake of hitting the goal, the less you will succeed in the one and the further the other will recede. What stands in your way is that you have a much too wilful will”.
These words come to mind whenever someone asks me why I practice martial arts. They can be shortened to a simple sentence: the aim of practice is to practice. Before I explain what I mean by that, let me examine some popular answers to this question.
1. Martial Arts Are Just Fun
When asked why they practice martial arts, people often answer that it’s simply fun—they just enjoy doing it. Such an answer has always seemed to me as if there were no real explanation, as if the supposed fun were only the last resort.
If this is really why someone practices martial arts, that person is unlikely to stay in the game in the long run. Most training consists of repeating the same exhausting movements countless times, which inevitably leads to boredom and pain. When all the fun fades away, such a person is left with no real reason to continue.
This is when we start to lose motivation. There has to be something more to keep us training, because pleasure comes slowly and disappears quickly. Martial arts require not motivation but dedication—which, in turn, demands practice even when there is no fun or pleasure.
2. Martial Arts for Self-Defence
Another reason people often give is self-defence. Martial arts certainly promise to provide it. Sometimes the promise is fulfilled, sometimes it isn’t. In any case, there is never a guarantee that any martial art will make us able to handle a real-life combat situation. Still, it is reasonable to expect that we may gain real fighting skills.
Nevertheless, the risk of ending up in a serious combat situation is very low. Even if we do, avoiding confrontation is almost always better than fighting. If this were the only reason for training, taken seriously, it would be like carrying a gun everywhere—just in case. It would look more like an obsession than a reasonable motivation.
Of course, martial artists who value the self-defence aspect of their practice are not dangerous maniacs. However, this is precisely because there is something more in martial arts practice than self-defence alone. After all, carrying a gun would be a simpler solution.
3. Martial Arts for Self-Confidence
It could be objected that gaining self-defence skills is actually about building self-confidence. From my experience, it is partly a myth that martial arts change people’s character. Rather, they tend to strengthen the traits of character that people already have.
For example, a shy person must endure very demanding training conditions. If such a person manages to endure them, something must have enabled that. And that something can be anything—both good and bad. It can make someone a better person, but it can also make someone worse.
Someone may empathise with other students, seeing that they also struggle with the training. The practice may strengthen empathy or compassion. In this way, such a person may gradually overcome their shyness.
Someone else may notice that people with higher ranks exalt themselves above those with lower ones. For such a person, a coloured belt may become a source of resentment and a reason to treat others with a sense of superiority. In this case, training may actually strengthen isolation—and even deepen certain traumas.
As I’ve already said, martial arts strengthen the traits of character that already exist. I believe this is why old masters attached great importance to a code of conduct. They knew that martial arts training alone does not make anyone a good person.
In conclusion, training may build some confidence—for better or for worse—but it will not simply make someone a self-confident person. Life is not The Karate Kid, and a coach is rarely Mr. Miyagi. If someone suffers from a lack of confidence, psychotherapy and consistent work on oneself may be a better option.
4. Martial Arts for Health
Another popular reason for practicing martial arts is health. Full-contact striking arts such as boxing, kickboxing, or Muay Thai are among the most injury-prone activities. Grappling arts like judo or jiu-jitsu are relatively low-risk—lower than, for example, soccer or hockey.
Nevertheless, there are many easier forms of activity that are much better for maintaining good health and overall fitness. Rucking, swimming, calisthenics, or the reasonable use of weightlifting may all be good choices. So the question remains: if the aim is simply to stay healthy, why choose such complicated and demanding activities as martial arts? There must be something more that captivates people in practice.
5. Martial Arts for Their Cultural Value
Yet there is another reason. Martial arts can be practiced because of their cultural value. Some people want to associate themselves with a culture that fascinates them. Of course, martial arts have great cultural value, as they are a wonderful example of a living tradition that can still shape our lives.
However, just as in the case of pleasure and fun, what seems fascinating at first glance fades away after many hours of the same exhausting activity. The fascination is often grounded in the exoticism of Oriental culture, but what seems exotic at first becomes commonplace after months and years of training. There still has to be something more to keep people engaged in practice.
6. Our Ignorance of the Purpose
Do we really know why we practice martial arts? I don’t mean the reasons we give to others, but the deeper reasons we give to ourselves.
Once I heard a Zen master give an interesting explanation of what karma is. He said that it is not simply a law of cause and effect—not even in moral terms. Cause and effect are projections of our minds onto the world. If we think more deeply, we may find countless reasons why we are in the particular place we occupy in our lives. Most of them are rarely taken into consideration—and many of them we are not even aware of.
For example, there are countless reasons why I am talking about martial arts right now—from starting a podcast and practicing martial arts myself to the social and environmental conditions on Earth that allow me to live and do this instead of struggling for survival.
To conclude, we do not really know why we do what we do in life. Finding reasons is often only a rationalization after the fact—a story we tell ourselves. The Zen master said that this lack of knowledge is what we conceptualize as karma. Since we do not know why we are in a particular place in our lives, we simply believe that there must be a reason for it all. So we call that reason karma.
Of course, the same can be applied to our practice of martial arts. So when I ask myself why I practice, my first answer is simple: I don’t know. There are countless reasons beyond my understanding. The reasons I can find—like those examined earlier—are only rationalizations, stories we tell ourselves to put our minds at ease.
Reality goes far beyond that. This is exactly why our particular reasons are always insufficient. This is also why explaining to people on the outside why we practice martial arts is often pointless. They are simply not in a position to understand.
7. The Aim of Practice Is to Practice
All of the answers examined earlier have something in common. They are all about benefits, and therefore about having something: having fun, having self-defence skills, having good health, or having a piece of an exotic culture in one’s life.
This brings me back to Kenzo Awa’s words from the beginning. If we think that something is the aim of our practice, we assume that there is something to possess. First, our mind creates a story that there is something to be gained. That becomes the aim, and it generates a desire to reach it. Second, we orient our actions toward that aim—toward having something.
However, reality is not something we can possess. It always slips through our fingers. The more we try to reach the aim, the faster it recedes—like the target in Awa’s quote. This is what the Buddha realized centuries ago: there is no final satisfaction of our desires.
Reality is something we can be within. Not to have, but to be—that is the right perspective. The right practice, as Kenzo Awa said, is purposeless and aimless. Instead of telling ourselves stories, we should remain open to experience and focus on every step along our path.
In the end, my advice is simple, but not shallow. On the contrary, in my experience I have found profound wisdom in this simple claim. First, choose your path. Second, walk it. That’s all.
The aim of practice is to practice.
