Hidden Traditions of the
Apache Scout & Ninja

"…Inner Vision is the last 'fail safe'. One of the most important awareness skills, it helps build the foundation for spirit communication. We all have the Gift of Inner Vision in the form of signs, symbols, dreams, visions, feelings, and emotions. When we experience a moment of Inner Vision, it brings a strong feeling of release…"

"When you look at all the senses coming together into that Place of Inner Vision, the five senses that we have, it creates a sixth sense, a harmonic. This is the voice of Inner Vision."

The Moment I Stopped

Inner vision is not always dramatic. Sometimes it speaks in very subtle ways, through a shift in your thoughts, a stillness, or a knowing without knowing how you know.

Let me (Rien) try to explain with the following story. One day I went out for a run with my smartphone in the pocket of my running shorts. Usually it stays there without any issue, but on this particular day I jumped over a few puddles, and during one of those jumps the phone slipped out of my pocket. I did not notice this at the time, as my head was full of thoughts about work. About ten minutes later, I suddenly became aware that the weight in my pocket was gone. I stopped and realized my phone was gone.

Of course, I freaked out a little — my smartphone contains a lot of personal information. Even though it was locked, the thought of someone finding it and accessing it was horrific to me. So I started to walk back, eyes in wide-angle vision, fully intent on finding my phone. I assumed it had fallen out during one of the jumps, but I wasn't sure, so I scanned everywhere I had just run.

Eventually, I reached the area with the puddles. The grass on both sides of the path was knee-high and I did not see any sign of the phone. I kept walking until, all of a sudden, something felt off — almost as if it was wrong for me to take another step forward. I stopped, turned around, and found myself looking directly at my phone lying in the grass beside the path. The inner tension I had been feeling in my gut released instantly.

I picked up the phone and checked it. Then I took a moment to digest what had just happened. I had walked past the spot where the phone was lying, and within three feet I had stopped, turned around, and looked directly at it. I stopped because I felt an inner release and had the sudden feeling that there was no point in walking any farther. I turned around and looked down because, on some level, I knew the phone was there, even though I had no idea how I knew. It all came down to how I felt inside. The tension of losing my phone dissolved the moment I passed the spot where it was lying, and a quiet sense of having found the phone took over. That shift is what made me stop, turn back, and look straight at it.

This is why Tom Brown always says that there is no struggle in survival, and why Hatsumi says you fight without fighting. This applies to every aspect of your life, whether you're trying to find something you've lost, working through a task, or simply moving through your daily routine.

Our failures to follow moments of Inner Vision can become our greatest teachers, if we are willing to have an honest look at them. One morning I (Randy) was about to go out the door on the way to work, and I glanced at my raincoat. Something in me wondered whether I should bring it. I opened the back door, saw a deep blue sky, and decided I wouldn't need it after all.

As I was leaving work about nine hours later, I got soaked jogging thirty feet to my car in the drenching rain of a full-blown thunderstorm. My logical mind had overridden the insight I had received that morning. My failure to listen to my Inner Vision taught me that instead of allowing my logical mind to second-guess myself, I needed to pay close attention to insights that have no logical basis, and to trust my gut feeling.

The Target I Already Knew

I (Rien) remember one time at a training camp with Hatsumi in England in the early '90s, with over 200 people attending. We were all called together after lunch for an exercise. By then I was already a black belt and training nonstop. When I was not training physically, I was reading books on ninjutsu or running mental scenarios, imagining different fighting situations and how I would respond.

It was announced that we were going to do a hitman scenario, in which one person would be assigned to "kill" another person in our group of 200. The moment this exercise was announced, I felt, deep inside, that the target would be me. I even knew who the hitman was, as our eyes met in passing. Unfortunately, I did not pay attention to my inner knowing.

The whole group was instructed to walk randomly around the small square of the training area. It was crowded, and people had no choice but to brush against each other as they moved. Everyone was hyped by the thought that they could be attacked and "killed" at any moment. Even though I had felt that I was the target, my mind brushed it off as imagination. After all, why would they pick me out of more than 200 people?

So after walking for a while, I convinced myself the target must be someone else. I even crossed eyes again with the man who turned out to be the hitman. I was distracted and bumped hard into another guy; we both jumped back, thinking we might have been attacked — false alarm. About ten minutes had passed, and I was looking forward to getting this exercise over with so we could return to "real" martial arts training. My mind drifted off again, thinking about the morning's exercises and which techniques I could improve.

That was the moment a rubber knife plunged into my stomach and the hitman hissed, "I got you."

Everything stopped at that moment. I was in absolute shock. It was announced that the exercise was finished and the kill order had been successfully executed. I felt like a failure — here I was, a high-ranking student who had just been "gutted." I felt ashamed that I hadn't seen it coming and that I reacted only once the knife was already embedded in my stomach. I realized that in real life, I would have been dead.

The weight of that failure — my failure to pay attention to my first insight, to the knowing that I was the target and who the attacker was — stayed with me all day. The entire afternoon I trained on autopilot, unable to shake the feeling. It wasn't until the evening, alone in my room, that I could replay the whole scenario in my mind. I was stunned. Not only had I known I was the target, I had also known exactly who the hitman was. How could I have been so foolish as to ignore that insight? Why didn't I trust myself and take the hitman out the moment he moved in?

Now, years later, I am deeply grateful the exercise unfolded exactly as it did. To this day, almost thirty years later, this event is still teaching me. It shows me how powerful the mind is at dismissing things it cannot see or logically prove. It continues to teach me about awareness and how easily the mind drifts away from the here and now. It teaches me about the demon of distraction. It teaches me that you matter, that you should never dismiss yourself or assume you wouldn't be singled out among 200 other people. Most of all, it teaches me to be grateful for the opportunity I was given to learn and grow. Both the Bujinkan and the Tracker School teach the same truth: the first knowing is always the truest. The mind that questions it is the obstacle, not the protector.

"Inner Vision is the Voice of the Creator."

A Command from the Creator: Return Home

Randy — One of the most significant experiences I've had with Inner Vision taught me its true power. Grandfather said that Inner Vision is "a Command from the Creator." The experience I'm about to relate taught me to take those words to heart.

It was my daughter's birthday, and even though she was away at summer camp, we have a family tradition of celebrating birthdays. My wife made our daughter's favorite meal, and her two brothers helped decorate the table and the counter behind it with candles and incense. After lunch and ice cream, my wife and sons were heading to a state park an hour's drive away, while I planned to wander into the woods above our house. We cleaned up, put out the candles, and the boys and their mom left for their adventure. As I put on my rain gear and boots, my excitement for the wander began to build.

It was early afternoon when I left. There was a breeze from the west, and the ground was still wet from rain that had ended earlier that morning. Whenever the wind picked up, drops shook loose from the leaves in little showers. I walked across the yard and up the old horse trail that leads into the woods, past my sit area and fire pit, to the spot where three trails came together on the ridge.

I stood still and surrendered to the question: "Which direction should I choose to explore today?" Nothing came. No release, no urge, no answer. I turned to face each direction individually and surrendered again to each one. Still nothing. Then I felt an inner pull to return home.

I was disappointed — I didn't understand why I was feeling the urge to return home. But as I turned around and headed down the ridge, going back felt right to me.

As I sat in a chair outside the back door, taking off my muddy boots, I heard a loud crack — a sharp, out-of-context sound coming from inside the house. The sound felt like an alert somehow, dangerous. I hurriedly pulled off my other boot and rushed inside. My gaze was drawn across the dining table to the counter beyond it, where the candles and incense from my daughter's birthday celebration had been arranged. The cotton mat beneath them was on fire.

Apparently, one of the incense sticks had smoldered down to the melted wax on the cotton mat. The flames were about ten inches high. I was able to smother them quickly enough to lift the whole thing into the kitchen sink and soak it with water. If I hadn't returned home at exactly that moment, our house could have burned to the ground. A moderate breeze was blowing in through the open window next to where the candles were set up — the perfect catalyst for a fire to take hold.

Thankfully, I had followed my Inner Vision. When no direction felt right and the pull to return home was strong, I paid attention to that inner message. Not getting an answer was also part of the lesson. What felt right was to turn around and go home. Sometimes Inner Vision does not point forward — it turns you around.

"Remember, that Place of Inner Vision has an identity, energy, power — it's a place all its own. That is where everything filters into. Inner Vision is like the hub of a wheel, where every spoke signifies a part of our existence: the spirit world, the Void, the Force, the Subconscious, the physical mind, and so on."

The Hub of All Things

Grandfather said that Inner Vision is "the voice of the Creator." This inner voice can speak in many ways — sometimes loud and demanding, other times a soft whisper, a quiet sense that something about your present situation is not quite right. The journey of bringing Inner Vision into your life begins with learning, through experience, to recognize how you receive its messages. Discovering your personal way of receiving these messages is an ongoing journey of self-discovery.

This is where asking the Sacred Question — "What happened here?" — becomes essential. By asking this question, you begin the process of tracing back to the moment when Inner Vision spoke, and the moment when the logical mind overrode it. This reflection is not about blaming yourself; it is about understanding how Inner Vision communicates, how it feels in the body, and how easily it can be dismissed when you are not paying attention.

Grandfather had a saying that carries a deep truth: "Expectations are premeditated disappointments." Inner Vision in its purest form is the compass of your heart. It comes to us through signs, symbols, dreams, visions, feelings, and emotions.

Inner Vision is connected to our instinct, our gut feeling, combined with our ability to sense presence and our connection with all spiritual realms. As you begin to listen to and follow your Inner Vision, the synchronicities in your daily life will start to increase dramatically. Carl Jung described synchronicity as an acausal connecting principle — a meaningful connection between an internal process, like a thought or feeling, and an external event. Tom consistently told students that he didn't believe in coincidence. Synchronicity and Inner Vision are parts of a whole that makes up our trilogy of self: flesh, Force, and spirit.

The more you live in alignment with Inner Vision, the more these meaningful connections reveal themselves, guiding you, affirming your path, and reminding you that the world around you is far more alive and responsive than the logical mind allows.

Inner Vision that comes to us with a feeling of "something doesn't feel quite right" is a fundamental element of the Prayer of Warning. These uneasy feelings are closely connected to our instinct, our gut feelings. Surrender becomes a vital tool in interpreting what our Inner Vision is trying to communicate to us. Through surrender, we move beyond the noise of the mind and into the truth rising from within.