Many centuries ago there was this village Tea Master. It was the end of the feudal period in Japan, artisans like the Tea Master were held in high repute. The tea ceremony was a rich, meaningful ritual.

One day the Tea Master was called to the local city. He packed up the implements of his craft, the charcoal burner, the simple yet beautiful bowls, the bamboo whisk, and the lacquered boxes containing the teas into an elegant basket, which he carried on his back.

Oh, and he bound the double swords of the samurai to his belt. Not that he'd ever drawn them, of course. It was fashionable for all artisans to carry them. In the city he was agog. So many people. So much activity. Turning to look at a particularly fine building he jogged the elbow of a samurai. Now this was a real samurai, with swords that obviously meant business, the correct clothes, the topknot, the foul disposition.

Angry and arrogant, he challenged the tea master to a duel. They agreed to meet on the bridge, the next morning, and parted. The Tea Master quaked in fear. He was certain to be cut down. He asked a passerby, and quickly found the dojo of the greatest swordsman in town. He gained an audience, and told the Sword Master his story. He asked to be taught enough of swordsmanship not to dishonor his family.

The Sword Master worked with him all morning, and into the afternoon. Eventually he stopped and said. "You will never be a swordsman, we are wasting our time here." The Tea Master hung his head and apologized. The Sword Master asked that, in payment for his services, the Tea Master officiate in a tea ceremony. The Tea Master agreed. He opened his little basket, lit the charcoal and heated the water. When it was ready he poured a little ground up tea into each bowl and added boiling water. All of these actions were according to a ritual, carried out with a grace and simplicity that took the Sword Master's breath away. The Tea Master finally brandished the bamboo whisk, uttered the words that go along with the ritual, whisked the tea in the bowls, and served it.

After drinking tea with the Sword Master and packing up, the Tea Master took his leave. The Sword Master said "When you brandished your whisk, you were totally at peace with yourself and the universe. In that action, I saw that you were a true master. When you meet your opponent tomorrow, brandish your sword in the same way."

The next day when the Tea Master met his opponent, he drew his sword as the Sword Master had said, imagining that it was his tea whisk. He fully expected to die, but at least he would die with honor. His opponent, the son of a nobleman and not after all a true samurai, looked into his eyes, saw that he was totally at peace with the concept of his own death, looked at the way he held his sword... and turned tail and fled.

There are many lessons to be learned here. One is that if you feel no pain and are not afraid of death, you are an invincible warrior. Another is that if you can fake it for long enough, you've got it made.