FAIRY-NINJA
The Mystic Arts of the Ninja: Hypnotism, Invisibility, and Weaponry – Stephen K Hayes
When recently asked what she wanted to be when she grows up, my four-year-old niece answered: “A fairy… OR maybe a ninja.” She is still, at time of writing, erring towards becoming a ninja, but… “a good ninja”.
Well, I’m here to tell my niece – and you, hypno-seekers – that you can be both.
I’m not sure that Stephen K Hayes, author of this unusual find, would agree with that takeaway. But that is what I’m left with upon completing The Mystic Arts of the Ninja: Hypnotism, Invisibility, and Weaponry, published in the US in 1985.
The cover informs us that Hayes is the “Western world’s foremost instructor” on all things ninja. And we learn from the back that he’s the sole American to be granted teaching credentials by a prestigious Japanese grandmaster. Together with his ninja-tastic cover shot, it’s impressive stuff.
Hayes comes across as a credible, passionate and efficient teacher. He takes us on a silent sneak through such high-level ninjaring as: hitting people with sticks, lurking, crawling, hiding, walking across gravel, and throwing sharp things at people.
(I am being flippant, of course, to cloud the minds of all you gentlemen-hypnosis-trainers who count The Martial Arts alongside your mentalism creds to win at hypno-status-wars.)
But, in all seriousness, Hayes does a stellar job reclaiming ninjutsu from racist, historic and popular-culture stereotypes, and gives us a glimpse into the dedication and philosophy entailed.
Hypnotism gets top-billing in the book’s subtitle, and the back page lists the ability “to mesmerize one’s victim” as amongst the ninja’s legendary powers. But, in fact, the subject gets just 10 pages (three of which are images) at the back in the final chapter.
Is it worth the wait? Well, yes and no.
Hayes kicks off by telling us that the ninja’s ability to “cloud the minds” of their enemies is a mix of myth and reality. Tales from the history of the art of ninjutsu are, we learn, filled with references to ‘saiminjutsu’, aka hypnotism, and ‘kiaijutsu’, which is a shout of intention as a weapon. He also mentions ‘ju-jutsu’ and ‘kuji no’, respectively a 10-syllable power method (not to be confused with the throwing martial art of a similar name) and a nine-syllable protection method.
But that’s the long and short of it, in terms of original wisdom; we’re left wondering about ‘ju-jutsu’ and ‘kuji no’. And obviously I’m curious if these equivalent definitions stand up in scholarly terms…
Hayes defines saiminjutsu hypnosis, “as taught in the practice of ninjutsu”, as: “a matter of using suggestion from the five senses in combination with the realm of the creative imagination to affect the mind’s standard perception of a given situation or condition. Through the use of sense cues and suggestions, the subconscious mind is programmed to take in and believe what is presented to it, which later results in a standard or automatic frame of reference through the active conscious mind.”
He tells us that we see this process in motion every day through the socialisation and moralisation of children, and basically breaks the news that we’re all hypnotised from birth. So: it’s no surprise that this chapter is, actually, about dehypnotising yourself – rather than learning the ancient secrets of mind-clouding your enemies.
The meat of the chapter is a longish instructional and script for self-hypnosis, which reads much like any such current practice – whether from self-hypnosis, guided hypnosis, mindfulness, meditation or whatnot. There’s then a similarly standard visualisation exercise to remove limiting beliefs.
Step-by-step pictorials of Masaaki Hatsumi, ninjutsu “grandmaster” and our author’s teacher, demonstrating applications of saiminjutsu pepper these pages. A series of shots of him, say, staring-and-then-surprise-shouting-at an opponent before knocking him off balance are quaintly pointless in these days of YouTube.
Hayes’s understanding of hypnosis, however, is way ahead of its time: all hypnosis is self-hypnosis. Apparently saiminjutsu got there much sooner than many hypnotists of today.
Because the book is lacking in deeper philosophy on saiminjutsu, Hayes skips from the self-hypnosis and visualisation to short but ranging final statements on deprogramming your childhood foibles and failings, and ‘reality is just an illusion’ sentiments.
This rather leaves me with the impression that years of unspecific magical thinking plus an unhealthy commitment to silently walking across gravel is a recipe for ninja success.
Which, if you go about the adult world with that belief and practice foremost in your mind, perhaps is the secret to clouding the minds of others. “My wall is only four feet high”, etc.
So, yeah. The good news for my niece is that you can indeed be a fairy-ninja, and, as Haynes convincingly argues, a force for good in this world.
