Chapter 14: Walking Your Own Path

A Different Road

Matilda is thirty-four. For ten years, she worked in a large insurance company, rising steadily to a well-paid position. Two years ago, she left to do what she had always loved: teaching pottery classes in a small studio she rents in an old warehouse. She earns much less now. She works long hours, cleaning kilns and mixing clay as well as teaching. And she is happier than she has ever been.

Not everyone understands. At a family gathering, her uncle asks, loudly, when she is going to get a "real job" again. Old colleagues post photographs of promotions, new cars and holidays, and Matilda sometimes catches herself feeling a small, sharp envy. On difficult days, when a class is half empty or the rent is due, she wonders whether she made a terrible mistake. Sometimes she complains to her friends about how unfair it is that teachers of crafts earn so little while people in offices earn so much.

One evening, after a frustrating day, she stays late in the studio and finds an old book a student has left behind, a translation of Miyamoto Musashi's writings. She reads a short list of precepts that he wrote at the very end of his life, under a title that can be translated as "The Path of Walking Alone". Some of the precepts seem harsh and strange to her. But a few of them speak directly to her situation: accept things as they are; do not be jealous; do not complain; think lightly of yourself and deeply of the world.

Matilda sits with the book for a long time. She realizes that she chose her own road, and that walking it well requires a certain kind of steadiness: not being pulled off course by others' opinions, not poisoning her days with envy and complaint, accepting the hard parts along with the good. This chapter explores Musashi's last precepts, what they offer and where they do not fit, and how they can help anyone who is walking their own path.

Musashi's Last Words

According to tradition, Miyamoto Musashi wrote a short text called Dokkōdō, often translated as "The Path of Walking Alone" or "The Way of Self-Reliance", about a week before his death in 1645. He gave it, together with The Book of Five Rings, to one of his students. It consists of a list of twenty-one brief precepts, each a single sentence.

The precepts reflect the life of a man who had spent many years travelling, training and living largely alone, and who had come, near the end, to a certain austere view of life. Some are about self-discipline and detachment from pleasures. Some are about accepting fate and not clinging to things. Some are about self-reliance. Some are about the way of training that Musashi followed throughout his life.

It is important to read the Dokkōdō with care. It was written by one particular person, near the end of a particular kind of life, and many of its precepts reflect a solitary and severe outlook that does not suit most people. Some precepts, for example, advise against attachment to love or to particular places, which would be strange advice for most families and communities. This book does not suggest following all of them.

But several of the precepts contain wisdom that applies very widely, especially for anyone who is trying to walk their own path with steadiness. In the sections that follow, I paraphrase a few of these in my own words and explore what they might mean for ordinary life.

It is also striking that Musashi, a man famous for his skill, ended his life not with a boast about his victories, but with a short list of reminders about humility, acceptance and self-discipline. Whatever we make of his earlier life, this final choice suggests that he saw the deepest challenges not in defeating others, but in mastering his own mind. That is a struggle that every person, in every kind of life, shares.

Accept Things as They Are

The first of Musashi's precepts says, more literally, that one should not turn against the ways of the world. It is often rendered, and I follow that reading here, as: accept everything just as it is.

This precept does not mean that we should never try to change anything. Musashi spent his whole life training and improving. It means that we should begin by seeing and accepting reality as it is, rather than as we wish it were. Only when we accept what is can we respond to it wisely.

Much suffering comes from refusing to accept reality: insisting that things should be different, that people should behave differently, that life should be fairer. This refusal can feel like strength, but it often keeps us stuck, angry and exhausted. Accepting reality, by contrast, frees our energy to deal with it.

For Matilda, accepting things as they are might mean accepting that teaching pottery earns less than insurance work, that some family members will not understand her choice and that some months will be hard. These are the facts of her chosen path. When she accepts them, rather than resenting them, she can plan better, worry less and enjoy what her path does give her.

Acceptance is not the same as approval. Matilda may still believe that craft teachers deserve better pay, and she may work, with others, to change this. But she can do so from a place of clear acceptance of her current situation, rather than from constant frustration. Acceptance and action can go together.

Acceptance also includes accepting ourselves as we are now: our current skills, our limits, our age, our situation. Many people waste energy wishing they were already further along, already more skilled, already less afraid. Accepting where we are is the starting point for growth. A traveller who refuses to accept where they are standing cannot plan the route to where they want to go.

Think Lightly of Yourself, Deeply of the World

Another of Musashi's precepts, in my own paraphrase, is: think lightly of yourself and deeply of the world.

This is one of the most quoted lines from the Dokkōdō, and it is easy to see why. It describes a kind of humility combined with seriousness. Thinking lightly of oneself means not being preoccupied with one's own importance, image, comfort or reputation. Thinking deeply of the world means taking seriously the people, the work and the realities around us.

This precept connects with much of what we have explored in this book. A person who thinks too much of themselves is easily wounded by criticism, constantly comparing, anxious about their image. A person who thinks lightly of themselves can take criticism calmly, admit mistakes and focus on the work and the people in front of them. This does not mean thinking badly of oneself. It means not thinking about oneself so much.

Thinking deeply of the world means giving our attention to what really matters: the quality of our work, the needs of others, the beauty and difficulty of life. Matilda thinks deeply of the world when she gives her full attention to her students, her craft and the clay in her hands. She thinks too much of herself when she worries about what her uncle thinks or how her life compares with her former colleagues'.

There is a paradox here. People who think lightly of themselves often have deeper and steadier confidence than those who think heavily of themselves. Their confidence does not depend on constant reassurance, because it is not focused on themselves. It is focused on what they are doing and why.

No Envy, No Complaint

Two more of Musashi's precepts deal with feelings that often poison our days. In my own paraphrase, one says: never be jealous. Another says: resentment and complaint are fitting neither for oneself nor for others.

Envy, as many traditions have warned, eats away at contentment. When we envy others, we stop enjoying our own lives and focus instead on what we lack. Matilda's flashes of envy at her former colleagues' promotions and cars pulled her attention away from the joys of her own path.

Musashi's precept does not say that we will never feel envy. Envy is a natural human feeling. It says that we should not let it take root and guide our lives. When envy arises, we can notice it, recognize it and let it pass, returning our attention to our own path. It can also help to remember that we usually see only the surface of others' lives: their promotions and holidays, not their worries and sleepless nights.

Complaint is a close relative of envy. A certain amount of honest complaint, telling a friend that we are struggling or raising a real problem with the people who can fix it, is healthy. But a habit of constant complaining, about our work, our pay, our family, the weather, the world, can colour our whole view of life. It focuses our attention on what is wrong and makes us feel like victims rather than people who can act.

Musashi's precept suggests that habitual complaint is unworthy of a person who is walking their own path with dignity. Instead of complaining, we can accept what cannot be changed, act on what can and spend our energy on our path rather than on grievances. This is a demanding standard, and few people meet it perfectly. But even reducing complaint a little can make our days noticeably lighter.

It can help to keep track, for a few days, of how often we complain, and about what. Many people are surprised by the number. They may also notice that complaints often repeat: the same frustrations, told again and again, to the same people. Simply noticing this pattern can weaken it. And replacing even one complaint a day with a small action, or with a word of thanks for something that is going well, can change the tone of a whole week.

Without Endless Regret

Another of Musashi's precepts, in my own paraphrase, is: do not regret what you have done.

This precept needs careful reading. Taken literally, it might seem to suggest that we should never feel sorry for our mistakes, or never learn from them. That would be unwise, and it would conflict with what we explored in the chapter on honour, where we saw the value of apology and healthy shame at wrongdoing.

A more helpful reading is this: once a decision has been made and an action taken, do not waste your life in endless regret about it. Learn from it, make amends where you can and then move forward. Regret that goes on and on, replaying the past and wishing it different, does not change anything. It only takes energy from the present.

This connects with the chapter on resolve, where we saw that a person with kakugo accepts the results of their decisions without excessive regret. Matilda, on her difficult days, wonders whether leaving her job was a terrible mistake. Musashi's precept suggests a different response: she made her choice thoughtfully, for good reasons. If, after careful thought, she decides that her path is no longer right, she can choose again. But endless second-guessing helps nobody.

For actions that have caused real harm, the path forward includes acknowledgement, apology and repair, as we discussed in earlier chapters. After that, carrying the regret forever is not required. Learning and changing is the best way to honour what we have learned.

Respecting the Gods Without Relying on Them

One of Musashi's precepts deals with religion, and it is often quoted for its spirit of self-reliance. In my own paraphrase, it says: respect the Buddha and the gods, but do not count on their help.

This precept should be read respectfully, both toward Musashi and toward readers of all faiths. It does not reject religion. It expresses respect for the sacred. But it also expresses a strong sense that a person must take responsibility for their own life and actions, rather than waiting for outside help to rescue them.

Readers who hold religious beliefs may understand this in different ways, and some may disagree with it. Many religious traditions themselves teach that faith and personal effort go together. For readers of any belief, the practical point is about self-reliance: doing what is in our power, preparing, training and acting, rather than waiting passively for circumstances to change.

Self-reliance, in this sense, is not the same as refusing all help. As we have seen throughout this book, asking for help from other people when we need it is often an act of courage and wisdom. Musashi's precept is about not handing over responsibility for our own lives. We can accept support while still owning our path.

In practice, self-reliance might mean preparing for an interview instead of hoping for luck, saving a little each month instead of waiting for a windfall, learning a skill instead of waiting to be chosen, or taking the first step toward a difficult conversation instead of hoping the other person will make it. These are small acts of taking responsibility, and they build the quiet confidence of someone who knows that their path is, at least in part, in their own hands.

Where the Precepts Do Not Fit

It is worth being honest about the precepts that do not fit ordinary life, so that we do not take the Dokkōdō as a complete guide.

Several of Musashi's precepts advise detachment from love, from particular places, from pleasures such as good food and from possessions beyond what is needed. These reflect the life of a solitary wanderer and a severe ideal of self-discipline. For most people, who live in families and communities, love, home and shared pleasures are not obstacles to a good life, but central parts of it. Deep relationships, a beloved home and the enjoyment of a good meal with friends can be sources of strength.

Some precepts also reflect a warrior's attitude toward death and toward honour that, as we have seen in earlier chapters, can be dangerous if taken out of context. This book does not recommend treating life lightly or seeking danger.

The title itself, "The Path of Walking Alone", can also be misunderstood. Walking one's own path does not have to mean walking in isolation. Matilda walks her own path, but she shares it with students, friends and family who support her. Self-reliance and connection can go together. In fact, people who are steady on their own path often make better friends and companions, because they do not need others to tell them who to be.

So the Dokkōdō, like the other sources in this book, is best read selectively and critically: taking the precepts that help us live more steadily and kindly, and leaving those that belong to a different life and time.

Four Lives on Their Own Paths

Emre is forty and works as a nurse, having changed careers from engineering in his thirties. Some of his old friends cannot understand why he left a higher-paid job. Emre feels their judgment, and sometimes he envies their comfortable lives. He decides to practise two of Musashi's precepts: accept things as they are, and never be jealous. When envy arises, he reminds himself of why he chose nursing: the patients he helps, the meaning he finds in the work. He stops comparing his salary with theirs and starts noticing the moments in his work that make him proud. He says he feels steadier on his path than ever before.

Sunniva is twenty-two and has decided not to go to university, but to train as a carpenter. Her parents worry, and some relatives make critical comments. Sunniva notices that she spends a lot of energy complaining to her friends about her family's attitude. She decides to try Musashi's precept about complaint: instead of complaining, she focuses on her training. She invites her parents to see a piece of furniture she has made. They are impressed. Over time, their worry turns into pride. Sunniva says that showing them her work did more than complaining ever could.

Baba is sixty-seven and retired early to care for his wife, who has a long illness. He sometimes regrets leaving his job, which he loved, and he feels the loss of status and income. He also sometimes feels resentful about the unfairness of his wife's illness. A friend who has read Musashi suggests the precept about thinking lightly of oneself and deeply of the world. Baba reflects on this. He realizes that his regret and resentment are focused on himself, while his days are actually filled with deep care for his wife. He decides to give his attention to that care, and to the small joys they still share. His regret does not vanish, but it no longer fills his days.

Matilda, from the beginning of this chapter, copies a few of Musashi's precepts onto a card and pins it above the wheel in her studio: accept things as they are; do not be jealous; do not complain; think lightly of yourself and deeply of the world. On hard days, she reads the card. She still notices envy and frustration sometimes, but she lets them pass more quickly. She also takes practical steps: she starts offering weekend workshops, which bring in more income, and she tells her uncle, kindly and firmly, that she has a real job and loves it. He comes to one of her classes and makes a lopsided bowl, which he proudly keeps on his desk.

Emre, Sunniva, Baba and Matilda each walked a path that others questioned. Each found that a few of Musashi's last precepts, read carefully and applied gently, helped them stay steady: accepting reality, letting envy and complaint pass, not drowning in regret, and thinking less about themselves and more about the world in front of them.

Practical Steps

First, accept things as they are. When reality frustrates you, begin by acknowledging it clearly. Then decide what, if anything, you can do.

Second, think lightly of yourself. When you notice yourself preoccupied with your image, comparisons or comfort, turn your attention to the people and work in front of you.

Third, let envy pass. When you feel envy, notice it, name it and return your attention to your own path and what it gives you.

Fourth, reduce complaint. Notice how often you complain. Replace habitual complaint with acceptance, action or honest conversation with someone who can help.

Fifth, learn from regret, then move on. Acknowledge mistakes, make amends where you can and then let go of endless replaying.

Sixth, walk your path in company. Remember that self-reliance does not mean isolation. Share your path with people who support you.

A Short Exercise: Your Own Precepts

This exercise takes about twenty minutes. Musashi wrote twenty-one precepts at the end of his life. You can write a few of your own, for the path you are walking now.

Take a page and write at the top: "My precepts." Think about the path you are on: your work, your relationships, your way of life. What attitudes help you walk it steadily? What attitudes pull you off course?

Write five to seven short precepts, each a single sentence, in your own words. They might include ideas from Musashi, such as "Accept things as they are" or "Do not compare my life with others' lives", and ideas from your own experience, such as "Ask for help before I am exhausted" or "Remember why I chose this path".

Read your precepts aloud. Change any that do not feel true or useful.

Copy them onto a small card and keep it somewhere you will see it often, like Matilda above her wheel. Each week, choose one precept to focus on. At the end of the month, write a few sentences about which precepts helped most, and revise the card if you wish.

Questions People Often Ask

"Is it selfish to walk my own path when others disagree?" Not necessarily. Choosing a path that fits your values and gifts, and that harms nobody, is a legitimate use of your freedom. It is wise to listen to others' concerns, especially those who love you, and to consider them honestly. But in the end, you are responsible for your own life. Walking your path with kindness, explaining your reasons and showing others what it means to you can help them understand.

"What if my path turns out to be wrong?" Then you can choose again, as many people do. Walking your own path does not mean refusing to change direction. It means choosing thoughtfully, walking steadily and adjusting when you learn something new. Musashi's precept against endless regret suggests that, whatever happens, you can learn and move forward.

"Should I try to follow all of Musashi's precepts?" No. Many of them reflect a solitary, severe life that does not suit most people, and some, read literally, would be unwise. The ones discussed in this chapter, about acceptance, humility, envy, complaint, regret and self-reliance, are the ones most widely useful. Take what helps you, and leave the rest.

Chapter Summary

According to tradition, Musashi wrote the Dokkōdō, "The Path of Walking Alone", a list of twenty-one brief precepts, about a week before his death in 1645. Many reflect a solitary and severe life and do not suit most people, such as those advising detachment from love and home, and some reflect dangerous attitudes to death. Read selectively, several offer wide wisdom.

Accept everything just as it is, which is not the same as approving of it, and act from that acceptance. Think lightly of yourself and deeply of the world. Do not let envy take root, and do not make complaint a habit. Do not waste life in endless regret, though mistakes should be acknowledged and repaired. Respect the sacred without handing over responsibility for your own life. Walking your own path does not have to mean walking alone.

In the final chapter, we bring together the qualities explored in this book and look at what quiet strength means for ordinary days.