Releasing Your Doubt

This may be particularly niche, as only anime fans will immediately know the reference, but the theme applies to everyone. The idea of releasing doubt, addressing fear, and overcoming the trials that lie before you. This sounds simple enough, but reality isn’t always so straightforward.

In considering fear and self-doubt, my mind typically wanders to Zenitsu from Demon Slayer. Zenitsu is one of my favorite characters in anime. This isn’t because of his character or his behavior, but what he represents.

Zenitsu is a demon slayer. He wields a special type of sword and special techniques that allow him to perform his function. As a member of the Demon Slayer Corps, he is dispatched on missions to protect others by slaying the demons that threaten them.

There is a small problem, however. Zenitsu is afraid. Really afraid. So fearful, in fact, that he will often be debilitated by it. It’s reasonable, of course, but inefficient for someone in his role. He doubts himself and his abilities. He often finds himself incapacitated in some way, either passing out or being knocked unconscious.

That is when he truly awakens.

The shift is extraordinary. When unconscious, Zenitsu is no longer the scared, crying swordsman afraid of his own shadow. He is calm, focused. Fear is no longer in the driver’s seat and doubt no longer keeps him frozen. Under threat, his body acts on its own, driven entirely by instinct and training.  The tables turn, with demons now fearing him and what he is truly capable of.

What makes this possible? How does someone so fearful, paralyzed by that fear, flip that internal switch?

What makes Zenitsu’s shift possible is that his capabilities were always there, just beneath the surface. Being incapacitated strips away the outer layer, allowing him to be present with himself in the moment. This presence focuses him on the task at hand. His personal strengths and abilities are given the space to shine when fear and doubt take the back seat.

I used to practice Kendo; a Japanese martial art focused on the way of the sword. In my time doing this, my sensei had taught me the four poisons of Kendo; surprise, fear, doubt, and confusion. These are the internal states that are said to render a swordsman ineffective in battle. Under these conditions, one’s focus falls onto preservation of the self. A fearful warrior tries to protect themselves from harm. Doubt in their ability creeps in, causing them to misstep. They lose focus, being caught off guard. With their lack of focus, they lose sight of what they are doing in the moment.

Ironically enough, when it came to the samurai, the desperate preservation of the self and trying to escape harm inevitably made them more susceptible. They were most effective when they cast off the idea of self-preservation and their mind lay on the fight itself. This mindfulness allowed for effective decision-making in the moment, their energy and focus not stuck in the four poisons.

I’ll always remember my first tournament Kendo match. I was incredibly nervous. Putting on my gear felt like I was preparing to go to battle as my opponent did the same. Stepping out onto the mat, my breath was heavy, my heart beating.

After bowing, we began.

My focus was tunneled onto my opponent. I barely registered the referees or the crowd watching. I stayed on my opponent, my mind as still as I could make it. Acting and reacting. I wasn’t bogged down by my earlier nervousness; I was fluid with the moment.

During the match, I was aware of points being scored. With how focused I was, I hadn’t fully registered who received them. I wasn’t trying to avoid being hit, my efforts were to perform the best Kendo I could.

The match ends, and I step off the mat to find my dojo mates congratulating me.

My adrenaline was still there, calming from the focus of the match, “did I win?”

I truly did not fully register if I had won or lost the match. Turns out, I did win. It was an incredible feeling, finding that out. However, if my focus in the match was on winning, the outcome would have been different. Overthinking could have stalled my movements. Doubt after each failed strike would have the ability to leave me frustrated. Lack of focus on my opponent would allow them to catch me unaware of their actions.

My matches in Kendo, especially the first, enhance my understanding of Zenitsu. Sometimes, we are rendered immobile in the face of seemingly overwhelming experiences. We doubt ourselves. We fear for ourselves, others, or the consequences of our choices. This incapacitation leaves us stumbling through our trials or avoiding them entirely. In doing so, we miss opportunities for growth.

Now, bear in mind that I am not telling you to disregard safety or to place yourself at risk. This concept applies to everyday moments in our lives and choices that may pull you out of complacency. The experiences we ignore the significance of. The choices we don’t make because of fear and self-doubt.

Fear and doubt cannot be truly eliminated. You can, however, act despite these sensations. Pushing through by focusing on the moment in front of you. Taking a breath, choosing action. Allowing the old identity to be challenged in order to pave the way for the identity you prefer.

Be like Zenitsu, elevate your skills and abilities over what holds you back. Remain mindful, focused on what needs to be done.

Engage in that new experience. Talk with the person you’ve been avoiding. Apply for that job. Slay your personal demons through a refusal to stay still.