Elder Wisdom
"Maku" -
Duty as the High Art of Living
A Message from ThunderStrikes
I wish to speak to you about maku, a most profound concept that is sorely lacking today in our relationships and in our way of being in the world. In the Twisted Hairs tradition it is called maku, which manifested as serving one’s destiny as a duty, no matter the cost, and giving away one’s gifts of beauty and excellence to self, life, and others.
Known as kiri in the Japanese tradition, it embodies an age-old tradition of honor, integrity, and service. It was elevated to a high art in Japan and formed the highest codes of honor in the Samurai tradition. It grew within the Ten No Kishi order out of the White Schools of Magick and through the Black Schools of the Ninja tradition.
The art of living at the highest level is living maku, giving the more of ourselves to others and the world while giving also with the same intensity and integrity to ourselves. Maku is the anchor of our internal personal integrity. It is more than saying one is honest, upright or of good character and high morals. It is a spiritual commitment at a level where one is willing to put their life on the line for justice, for principle. Maku leads us to our path with heart.
Compromise is never justified when one’s principles are at stake. The absolute upholding of a sacred principle, no matter the cost, that alignment with Sacred Law, is the stuff of heroes and legends. Perhaps one of the greatest tragedies in our societies today is that we no longer understand or recognize our warriors and heroes. In the great epics of history and legend it is maku that raised mere mortals and their actual historical feats to the level of legend and immortality.
The examples of maku are many: Jesus of Nazareth’s commitment to the elevation of humankind through the evolution of his own spirit; Gautama Buddha’s renunciation of wealth and power to seek enlightenment; the Twisted Hairs Elders’ decision in our time to open the wheels and keys of the Sweet Medicine SunDance Path to all peoples, the very knowledge that conquering Europeans took away and attempted to destroy; Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce tribes. On a more personal level, a mother for her child; a husband for his wife.
Maku is not so much a sacrifice as it is a full offering of one’s self without expectation of return because to not do so is not an option. The real key to maku is that it is the highest possible level of love and friendship. Within that is the commitment to a life of excellence and skill—the highest level of physical skills and abilities we can bring to a just cause, or to justice, or to friendship, to any and all relationships, including our relationship to Grandmother Earth and all her children.
In the traditional sense one speaks of maku in relationship to one’s self. It means you will never, under any circumstances, betray your self. The greatest betrayal of one’s self is to be a coward in the face of danger or adversity. If you compromise your own truths, values, and principles when confronted or pushed to the wall, you will not have the courage to stand up for family and loved ones in the face of adversity. This makes maku what it is.
The next level of commitment is our connection to our group or order, like the Ten No Kishi, for example, or to your path with heart such as the Sweet Medicine SunDance path or a Buddhist path, and so forth. That is followed by loyalty and service to one’s country. Then there is commitment to the health of this planet and to all life.
In today’s living many people compromise principles for security in a job, status in the community, likeability, and a desire to fit in, belong and conform, to be politically and socially correct. Our educational systems dull our innate sense of maku, and enforced politically correct behavior corrupts it. The film “Harrison Bergereon” and the book The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand illustrate the cost of being a warrior in a non-warrior society. In “Harrison Bergereon” the protagonist demonstrates how death can frequently occur inside the ultimate service to self, life, and others. The protagonist in The Fountainhead demonstrates how service to one’s self, to one’s individuality and creative originality risks castigation, ridicule, and obscurity.
When one lives maku in this way one exemplifies the first Cosmic Law—death gives life. It is the human being’s ultimate and purest connection to that law.
This commitment to service creates meaning and purpose in our lives like a laser beam of intent. Few of us have experienced maku at this level. Yet to not do so is to experience a life only partially lived. It makes the difference between existence and greatness. Most importantly, maku is innately human, and it is through exercising our own will that we can embrace maku and choose greatness.