Archery and the awakened self… really!

By Amy Martin

When we think of meditation, we typically think of sitting still, perhaps in a candlelit space, with an abundance of silence, while quieting the mind. When we think of activities and sports that elicit a similar mental focus and meditative effect, we tend to think of more popular sports such as golfing or fishing, or even the more fashionable East Asian influences of t’ai chi and yoga.

Infrequently do we think about archery. Archery has a long history, practiced for thousands of years. We know that ancient Egyptians were among the first to regularly utilize archery in 3000 B.C.E. for hunting and warfare.

However, the oldest remnants of bone and stone arrowheads have been located in South Africa dating back 60,000-70,000 years. Originally devised across cultures as a tool for survival, upon the discovery of gunpowder in 9th-century China and the creation of fi rearms in 10th-century China, archery had become relatively dispensable and obsolete.

Luckily, by the late 18th-century, archery found an enthusiastic revival among the aristocracy and nobility as recreation and sport. In 1879, the National Archery Association of the United States was founded. Today we know this organization as USA Archery, and it is recognized by the United States Olympic & Paralympic Committee.

While archery has evolved and taken many forms throughout the centuries, with many varying intentions — we rarely think about archery as an art form — let alone a meditative practice.

However, dismissing archery as anything but, does a great disservice to this masterful skill, and to the archer, or the artist, herself. There is a great gift to be found in this centuries-old art form, and you may discover that gift within yourself.

My first experiences with archery began as a child with my father and brother. We would travel all over Northern New Jersey in search of outdoor wooded ranges, with our brown bag lunches and moderately-worn gear in tow.

I’ll never forget receiving my first bow (a Bear compound bow, which I still have), feverishly running down the street of my suburban hometown with the bow string drawn, perhaps alarming the neighborhood, thrilled to show my friends. I knew I loved archery from the very beginning.

But as the years went by, I had forgotten about my beloved pastime.

Much later, while in college studying for my philosophy degree, I stumbled upon “Zen in the Art of Archery,” by Eugen Herrigel, a German philosopher who traveled to Japan to study the art, and the practice, of attaining a state of zen through archery.

Much like the revitalization in the 18th-century, for me, archery was discovered once again. I had already been practicing meditation and yoga for years, and I found that my love of archery was still very ever-present.

This simple and profound text had suddenly awakened my spirit, reinvigorated my passion, and taught me valuable lessons about the significance of an awakened self, focused breathwork, achieving a meditative state where all else disappears, and performing complex movements with unconscious control from the mind.

Great archery masters know that where you place your feet, how you maintain your posture, where you hold the bow, and how you breathe when you release the arrow are all determining factors of your end result. The bow itself is a limb, an extension of the archer herself. The breathwork is the lifeforce behind each action.

Nowadays, when I feel particularly stressed, or otherwise not myself, I find myself at the range. Yes, I would say, on those days, I literally find myself there.

If you would like to learn more about attaining your state of zen through the art of archery, visit these websites for local information:

Fort Lauderdale Archers, a private membership club – BYOBow
https://www.fortlauderdalearchers.com/

Go Archery, mobile archery lessons – https://goarchery.net/

Markham Park, outdoor range – BYOBow https://www.broward.org/

Parks/ThingsToDo/Pages/MarkhamParkArcheryRange.aspx

Bass Pro Shops, indoor range – BYOBow https://basspro.com

For my Dad. Thank you.