Aikido Ikkyu Test: The Change

(not-at-school.blogspot.com )

 

The Change ... but not the one you probably expect.

A great change has occured, one that has been slowly churning, a pace not unlike that by which the continents move. Underground, out of sight, these primal forces have been metamorphosing and recently they have cracked to the surface. The change is one I never expected, and one perhaps I never wished to believe. But it has happened, and I see now it has been long in the making.

I mentioned the last kyudo tournament I went to, and that I didn't do so well though it was a great experience. I also wrote about going to kyudo on my day off and how I felt about that. The posts on this blog have been largely about kyudo, and discussions on aikido have become quite the rarity. My kyudo sensei keeps pounding on me, forging my technique, chiseling away at the frivolous excess. I keep falling down and getting up, each time redifined and more aligned with the target.

This is all not the result of outer success but inner turmoil. When I started kyudo it was just a flimsy trial. As I continued I never really gave it much credit. After receiving the shodan, it could all end and I would be fine. No matter the abstract reflections, my body and spirit have been there everyday toiling in the soil that blooms love. Something of a flower has budded.

(life-engineering.com )

 

Since the great change two years ago causing me to switch jobs and locations, taking aikido training from three to four times a week, to three to four times a month, aikido has been hiding in the dark. On those tired nights I pilgrimmage to the dojo in the east and move, each time like a flicker in the shadows. Clumsily, forgettfully. Each is a great dream I can't seem to hold on to. In the past two years, parts of my aikido have naturally progressed, but it's overshadowed by a great slowing in the internal progress of my sinews.

I took my ikkyu test (one before the shodan [blackbelt]) and passed. I did well in many ways, I think. I did all of the techniques that were asked of me. I did particularly well in the jo and ken work ... parts that I have been able to hone and remember alone in my apartment. I actually felt best about the jiyu waza at the end where partners come at me doing one attack (for me it was katate-ryotedori [partner grabs one of your arms with both of his hands]) and I think something of my overall aikido-budo nature came out. But I could list endless details on small things that could have, should have been better.

After the test I went to talk to the two teachers, the main sensei and then the number two, Ueno-san, for their opinions about my test. First I went to the main sensei.

His words didn't come easily.

"You did it, but something is missing. I know you're busy with work, but honestly you haven't changed much since your nikkyu (last test) test. You're good, but there's something missing. It's in the small mistakes, like when you started so-and-so technique earlier and I told you to fix it like this. You fixed it immediately, and you can correct things quickly, but those necessary details are not internalized yet. Of course it takes time, and you had a good ikkyu test, but ..."

I understand completely what he said, and could have said the same things myself before hearing him. I can do the techniques as I'm asked, I try hard, and I learn fast, but this is not at the core of aikido. What is deep in the bottom is heavily rooted natural technique that adheres to the principles. There is no fast way to do this, it just requires simple time and effort. I don't have the time, so I double the effort, and what comes out has no effect on that deep core of aikido.

I knew this from the start, but I've been trying to trick myself out of it. "Yes, I can do it!" What? Like I don't need time? As if I could just decide for time not to be the core factor? That is magic. That is defying physics and the world. That does in fact play a part in budo sometimes, but equally the most important part of budo is realizing the nature of the world that cannot be changed. This nature cannot be transcended. I cannot fly to the top of the mountain. It requires each step to be made by my own two feet, and it will take as much time as it takes.

This is all completely related to my future move to Kyushu. For various reasons the move has continually been pushed forward since May. Now, it looks like it will happen in November at the very earliest, probably December, possibly later. A huge part of this has kept me crazy about aikido.

Can I get the shodan (black belt ) before I leave?

Can I leave before I get the shodan?

Which will I regret more? Leaving before I finally achieve my number one goal here in Toyama, or staying months more just for the sake of this possession?

A great factor on this decision is what sensei and Ueno-san the dojo think. Until now, the plan was just take the ikkyu test, see how it goes, and then start the discussion.

I thought maybe if my test went phenomenally well, like it could have been the shodan test, I would've been happy, then something could happen and I could do magic and just get the shodan before I leave whenever somehow. But that is not how I felt, in fact it was exactly what I feared, a test I passed according to the qualifications, but not magical acquisition of aikido skill.

I talked with Ueno-san who is a huge reason for my love is the dojo. She is a woman in here forties who has been doing aikido with sensei for about twenty years and is a godan (fifth degree blackbelt). She lives in Toyama City as well so she usually gives me a ride home after training. During the rides we've had countless discussions that have been so important to my growth as an aikido-ka, and more importantly a person on Planet Earth.

We talked about the test and she said it was something to be happy about. Of course it wasn't perfect, but for an ikkyu test is was great. I told her how I felt about coming to practice as infrequently as I do and it's affect on real aikido ability. She quietly agreed, but also silently assured me that that's not so important. What is important is just enjoying the practice. She didn't say this, though she has before, and I know it well.

This is my greatest problem with leaving the dojo before I get my black belt: I love the practice I have with the people in this dojo. I also love aikido. It may be my favorite kind of budo I've ever experienced, but that's due to the people I've been training with. If I were to do aikido with anyone less, I'd do something else.

I do aikido with these people because I love to do so. I'm heartbroken about all of this because I can't train as much as I want.

Why don't I get a job during the day that allows me to go to aikido practice more?

Because there's no job available that I want.

Why don't I just stay in Toyama forever and continue to build myself with this dojo?

Because I want to go somewhere new.

Why do I need to get a shodan in Toyama?

I guess I don't.

The discussion about my departure to Kyushu lasted the whole hour car ride, and could have gone on for much longer.

A big part of the discussion had already been made a couple weeks earlier on the topic of earning rank. Ueno-san lamented on the phenomenon of people training until the shodan and then immediately quitting. All of that work put into the person and their technique to finally reach a level as fun and interesting as shodan, where you can really start developing deeper skill, to just have them leave. This also happens after other various tests. Someone takes a test and then disappears for a while. To teachers I think this must be very frustrating. But to many people it's natural.

It's what I will do in this case.

What could that mean for the big shodan?

It feels cheap. Underneath my skin it's like worms. Only going to practice to achieve the rank. Forgetting the true worth of training with the people you're with in that moment. Sacrificing time and essentially your life for the duration for this goal. Using your sensei just to get rank and then leave forever. Thank you, sayonara.

To ask for such a thing is beyond me. To quietly plot this until the end and then leave is equally impossible.

After all this time and finally bringing up the topic with Ueno-san, I realize it's something real. I consulted with her to hear her opinion because I didn't know. I don't know, so I ask. Isn't that natural?

But actually I did know.

All of this: the test, the practice, the discussions, they really are just one giant mirror for me to look back at myself. I brought up the topic because it's real, and because it's happening. It's not a matter of going or not, because I am. It is a dream that has simmered for so long and finally come to an unstoppable boil.

I cannot wait through another winter to just barely get my shodan in the spring and then leave. I cannot wait because I won't steal the belt like that, and I don't want to waste those months when what I want, what I truly want is departure to a new world.

I love my aikido, but it has grown small and dark. It breaks my heart, but that flower has been withering all the while through this fall. All along it has been such, now I look and see.

Then I turn to the sun, and see my kyudo bloom. It's unstoppable. It's so strong, alive, young, I'm in the spring of my kyudo here.

This is the great change:

(www.elfwood.com )

 

Now I am more kyudo than aikido.

It's funny how both tragedy and happiness can bring us to tears.

 

The conversation I had with Ueno-san was one I didn't want to have, but one I had to. I'm happy now though in my understanding. Yet I still have one very difficult conversation to have, and that's with the head honcho himself, Sensei. He is an honest man, which comes off harsh sometimes, but that honesty also provides kindness and love abound. The experiences I've had with him sweating and being thrown over the past few years is a giant well of friendship. This isn't a conversation I can just have for a few minutes after practice, so I'm going to call him and see if I can meet with him for a couple hours to talk.

He's a buddhist priest which gives him free time in the mornings of strange days during the week, just like me. Hopefully I'll meet with him next week and have this giant nasty ball of a talk before I go home.

I asked for all of this. It's really what I wanted. I just didn't realize it.

Change.

 



 (woodgatesview.com )

Aikido Seminar in Toyama Part I: Ukemi

2 days.

4 featured teachers.

About 50 participants.

The main event of this seminar was a 7th dan (degree blackbelt) named Kuribayashi Takanori (栗林孝典) from the Aikikai Hombu Dojo in Tokyo. With him came Oyama Yuuji (小山雄二) a 4th dan. This seems to be the normal case for such seminars, at least in Japan: a main teacher brings one (or more) lower ranking member from their dojo. It helps for a teacher to have a familiar uke (partner) who will react properly to his techniques in order to effectively communicate with an unknown audience, gives the younger member a chance to watch and participate in such events in order to one day conduct them themself, and is usually a good model and source of information for the other participants as well.

From Toyama Prefecture, there were two teachers from Takaoka City (second largest city in Toyama Prefecture).

The seminar ran as such:

          -One hour session with Oyama Sensei
          -One hour session with Kuribayashi Sensei
          -Lunch
          -One hour session with one of the Takaoka teachers
          -One hour session with the other Takaoka teacher

On the second day, the last hour session was omitted, but the training sessions were stretched a bit longer. There was also time for a closing ceremony, which always takes a good chunk of time in Japan.

So, on with the juicy Aikido details.

Oyama Sensei was great. Young (maybe mid to late 20's, but it's hard to tell, he could have been early 30's) and full of fresh energy. He has great technique, but his focus was mainly on ukemi, the person receiving the technique. Actually, receiving the technique is not a good way to explain it, really, and Kuribayashi Sensei explained at length why it isn't. I say receiving the technique, because you usualy have two people, and one of them is predetermined to do so-and-so technique will the other person will be the body to practice with. So, that other person in a way is the practice dummy, but they are far from such. They are a living reacting skilled partner to practice a technique with. There are predetermined ukemi for particular techniques, but the uke doesn't just blindly follow through the motions. That is empty and meaningless aikido. The uke reacts to each motion from the tori (person executing the technique). If the tori does good technique and the uke reacts accordingly, then both the technique and the ukemi generally end up as they are supposed to. One cannot do the technique without the other, and the success of the technique depends upon both members.

When we practice, think about, and visit seminars about aikido, it is easy to often get stuck on just doing the technique from the tori side of things, but if the ukemi isn't correct, then there is nothing. Working with somebody who doesn't do the proper ukemi is probably the most frustrating thing in aikido. It's really not about being good at ukemi as much as doing it right. I suppose if you're good at ukemi, you can move faster, deal with more successful technique from the tori, and the ukemi may be less painful ... but that's really not important. That is something that happens after you learn to do it correctly, and spend a lot of quality time practicing. What's important is initially doing it correctly.

Ukemi is actually really simple if you follow the proper steps. Some of those specific steps I remember Oyama Sensei talking about were:

1.) When you are being thrown back and bend one leg to fall in that direction and eventually slap (breakfall) on the ground ... one should not just fall straight onto their back because our neck will whiplash and the back of the head will hit the ground, which is very very bad as this may result in concussions, uncosciousness, death, etc. Instead of falling straight back, one should fall on their side, reducing risk of head and neck injury, enabling a proper break-fall, and enabling one to do a high fall if necessary.

2.) When you are lowered, one should do their best not to bend their back, but bend their knees instead. This is in order to keep one's balance through the movement of being unbalanced. One's back won't be perfectly straight through technique, but it ends up being diagonal (45 degree angle with the floor) instead of flat (parallel) with the floor. This should be natural and easy. It's like picking up something off the ground. If you just bend with your waist, it puts a lot of tension on your muscles and puts you off balance. Also, if you're holding hands and walking with someone much smaller with you, if you bend your waist, it's uncomfortable and tough on the muscles and joints. If you bend your knees you reduce a lot of that unnecessary tension. Of course, it's a strange picture, and one wouldn't walk in such a way holding hands with someone that much smaller, but then again we also wouldn't choose to be thrown by someone in the real world as we are doing with ukemi. Ukemi is not a permanent situation, but a way to move through adversity and regain balance.

3.) When doing iriminage, in order to keep the back straight and bend the knees, it's OK and recommended to put your inside hand down to brace against the floor for a brief moment before you stand again. Also, one should look inside towards your partner who is throwing you. If you look to the outside, you are putting yourself further off-balance than you already are. It's like walking straight ahead of you, but turning your head and looking directly to the side. It's uncomfortable and will make you walk in the direction of your head. One should turn their head in the direction they are going, which is to the inside towards your partner in iriminage.

4.) MOST IMPORTANTLY! So so so very very very much importantly ... when you grip your partner's wrist, arm, whatever, in a technique, one must maintain the grip with the whole of their hand, or more specifically, the center of their palm. By grabbing your partner's hand, you are connecting with them, and you want to connect with them as much as possible in order to have good technique. I say this MOST IMPORTANTLY because it's soooo basic to technique, and it's something most people I've encountered don't do. This is what I'm talking about with frustrating partner's who don't do proper ukemi. The purpose of aikido techniques is to unbalance your opponent, and you can only unbalance your opponent is if they give a real committed attack. Most of the time, the partner grabs your wrist, you move to unbalance them, and they don't get unbalanced because they are not connecting with you. At that point, everything else is worthless.

The really shocking part about all of this is the fact that people don't do it no matter how many times they are told. Even in seminars like this, when everyone is looking and supposedly listening to the one teacher who is telling them to do this very simple and easy thing ... people still don't do it. Why? WHY?! Didn't you come here to learn something? Apparently not. You came here to just play with yourself. Might as well go home and masturbate.

Whoa! Sorry about that, but it's true. The last seminar in Toyama where a sensei from Tokyo came, the same thing was said, and immediately after, even sensei's from Toyama didn't do this simple thing. They merely went through the technique as usual and smiled and did nothing. This is the most frustrating thing in aikido for sure.

OK. So, ukemi is so super important in aikido, if you don't do that right, everything else is nothing. It's the most basic part of the art, but apparently a part that doesn't usually get enough attention.

This is a source of various issues with aikido in Toyama. It's political stuff between the different teachers here, and at a very basic level it is an issue with technique, or more appropriately ukemi. I don't want to spend much time on this issue, and so I will make it as brief as possible, but it needs to be said to understand basic things in aikido, and my particular situation.

When my current sensei was a lowly 2nd dan, he came to Toyama and looked for dojos to train at. He found the main one in Toyama City and began training. Though the teacher was much higher rank, maybe 5th dan, my sensei felt his technique was much better. The teacher couldn't do successful technique, because he couldn't do ukemi properly. Training was a huge waste of time, and the teacher didn't seem to recognize his own faults or desire to improve them, so my teacher started making trips to the Kobayashi Hombu Dojo in Tokyo to train. There he found what he was looking for, and started running his own classes in eastern Toyama.

The schools around Toyama, mainly the largest one in Toyama City, wants to organize a Toyama Aikido Federation. The hombu dojo in Tokyo also feels this way. By making a federation, aikido-ka around the prefecture, and throughout the country, and world I suppose, can unite under accepted levels of technique and better connect to practice. This is a good thing. However, in the way it is being conducted, my Sensei doesn't care to participate. The process requires a lot of talking, meeting, and aikido un-related business that would need to fit into an already busy enough schedule of working, living, and training. That's not so bad (though actually unbearable in a lot of ways, maybe), but the part is who this federation is with. In my Sensei's eyes, it's with a bunch of unskilled "teachers" who want to make Toyama special through beauracracy. My Sensei doesn't care to train with them, and all of this seems like a waste of time. However, the Hombu Dojo in Tokyo does seem to be encouraging this kind of activity in Toyama, and if they're going to keep sending teachers here, that kind of thing will be a requirement, it seems.

To be honest, I really only hear the side stories here and there, and even of that don't understand it completely, both linguistically and politically, but I think my impressions are pretty accurate. Honestly, I sympathize with my Sensei on this. Our dojo is doing just fine. Whether or not the federation is made, we still train well, and visit/receive other teachers from around the country.

Well, all this is necessary to the discussion, but has taxed me and probably you as well, so let's leave it at that for now. What did we learn?

Oyama Sensei was awesome and I learned a lot about ukemi, both its particulars and overall importance.

Dojo politics are lame. Just train effectively and have fun. That's what we're all there to do anyway right? Anything else, and I'll go learn about tea ceremony or calligraphy.

Check in next time for details on Kuribayashi Sensei's teachings and the rest of the seminar.

Shape of Quality

 

This is the one connecting road I see between cities, mountains, islands.

Posts have been infrequent this month. That does not mean there is nothing to talk about. Rather, it's quite the opposite. Too many things to talk about render me frozen amid sparse breaks from the movement. The changes are too fast. At the moment of impact, I could potentially imbellish curious minds, but the passing of mere moments already begin the rotting process.

Spring winds change the clouds so much in a single day, I can't remember the blue sky under such grey broodings.

Like going to kyudo, I can never predict what kind of practice it will be. False anticipations only make the results more the strange.

A quality form, base, skeleton, is important.

A room's shape, simple and strong. Bland is a quality to build from. Various furnitures can define spaces, pictures can direct moods, plants can breathe. Dirt can accumulate inside, clothes can litter floors. But those walls, that shape, comes before and lasts beyond it all.

In kyudo, aikido, and tai chi bodies are placed into desirable positions in order to maximize all abilities. From those correct positions, various techniques grow out for myriad purposes.

I can see these things, like a magazine. I flip through the pages and let my interest guide eyes to something of an undefined "quality."

But what about the mind? What is the shape of our mind? How is it structured? What is it designed to do? How can we adjust these settings?

It's like trying to see the back of your head.

All you need is a couple mirrors, or a camera.

So, I guess we can just move along and not care about such matters.

Or we can use some tools to figure it out.

The mind, its use and un-use. This is what I've been thinking about lately. How does that base structure of my mind affect my actions and the world I move in.

It's not static.

It's fluid and changing. We cannot stop to rearrange. We cannot accurately judge what's good and bad. We move in directions, falling, floating, swimming, gliding. In that shifting moment we move ourselves in ways beyond what we can conceive.

Like James Bond.

Quality. That single word can be magic. A compass amid worlds of painful complexities. Quality is a shape we color in with the instruments of our decisions.

For me, practicing budo is how I consciously affect my mind. Budo is quality. But it's not the only thing. Budo is a shell, and my guts are the decisions I make.

I don't know. Nobody knows. Some moments I'm peacefully unaware. Other times I'm trying to figure out how to get out.

Sometimes, it all feels just right.

That is quality.

(picture above found at http://www.photographycorner.com/galleries/showphoto.php/photo/25216)

First Kyudo Tournament & No Competition in Aikido

 

(The pictures included in this post are of a bike ride I took to Jouyama in Kamiichi Town, of my  home Prefecture, Toyama, on this lovely over-cast early spring day-off. Please enjoy.)

Yes! It happened.

The night before I had a very pleasant and relaxing night, going to aikido, watching the current anime of my interest "Darker Than Black", drinking a couple cheap fake Japanese beers ... but then I couldn't go to sleep. So I drank some more, and then fell asleep.

 

The next morning I woke up, nervous, without enough time to drink my coffee, and had temporarily been separated from my wallet. The frantic search-time gave me a chance to finish the coffee and curse about how I couldn't believe I had signed away another precious Sunday to doing something other than not being tied to something I am required to do.

I showed up, signed in, met with Sensei and many others, and got started.

I'd call it a success. It was a great learning experience. It shook me out of my comfortable nest. It introduced me to a lot of new people, dojos, and ways of kyudo. Most importantly, I didn't do anything incredibly stupid, and a few of my shots at the target felt really good.

But as far as awards and hitting the target and all that ...  I wasn't considered a "winner" I guess.

In this kind of kyudo competition you enter in a team of three and shoot eight arrows each ... four arrows in a turn. I hit one ...

One single stinking arrow!

I usually hit more than one in eight, so in a way I am disappointed. But then again, there's a huge difference between one and zero, so I'm happy to get that one. If I got zero though, I probably wouldn't feel any different, and it wouldn't mean anything else at all. I had a couple arrows that felt really good, but just missed. Sensei says that's most important: To know when you made a good shot. Hitting the target represents the achievement of your tangible goal, but doesn't necessarily mean you shot well.

So, overall I feel good about the experience, and in that "overall" kind of wholistic kyudo experience category, I learned a lot. In the dojo every morning I'm chiseling away at the skills I'm developing, putting small bricks into my kyudo castle. But at events like these, you get to step back and look at it all a little better.

 

I spent a lot of time talking to Sensei about certain aspects of shooting, and am making a lot of progress internalizing and slowly producing results. Most of all, in my tenouchi (left hand that holds the bow). This is my weakest point in kyudo, but as mentioned, one that is making progress.

The most memorable part of it all though, is something ... less than exciting. In fact, it might be the opposite of exciting. The tournament was a reminder of how much "not-shooting-arrows" is part of the kyudo experience. I was at the dojo from 9:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. That's seven hours. 10 minutes of that time, I was shooting an arrow. Seriously. That means I spent seven hours and fifty minutes standing around, chatting with people, eating free munchies and drinks, watching kyudo. It wasn't hell ...

but really ...

Seven hours and fifty minutes doing not-kyudo when I was at a kyudo event!

I know how "not-doing-kyudo" is actually also "doing-kyudo" and all those zen philosophical meanderings, but frankly, it's way less interesting when you're actually doing it.

It is true, that we learn a lot about what we do, by not-doing, and sometimes it's fun to talk about these kinds of things in an objective space separate from the mud and sticks of building technique, but it's a space that doesn't require much time. I spend a lot of time "not doing kyudo" in my daily routine. I get it. I'd like to spend that time I devote to "doing kyudo", actually doing kyudo, and leave my philosophical clouds to train rides and drinking parties.

I love kyudo. It's a huge challenge for me. It's a huge challenge for anybody. That's kind of the point. But, budo-wise, sometimes I feel like it doesn't quite click with me like some other arts, like aikido. I love aikido, and I love kyudo, but they are very different. I feel like I can kind of just walk into aikido and fall into the seams of its movement fairly easily. I think I'm naturally good at aikido and pick up on it's nuances quicker than other people. I don't think I'm being over confident, rather just conscious of my strengths and weaknesses. I could tell you a million things I'm less good at than aikido, and a large percentage of those things I'm worse at than the average person. For the discussion at hand, I mention kyudo. Every single movement of the shooting process seems to be a huge leap for me. Improvement takes longer, more obstacles appear, and the truth of failure feels a little more stark than I've felt in other arts. Aside from the techniques, all the other parts seem to take a little more effort to adjust to. With aikido, at least with my dojo, we show up, practice, and enjoy each other's company. We are all searching for truth, but not at the expense of everything else, and we also love drinking together. With kyudo, there's so much extra stuff, and so many different people. That part of doing kyudo, the "not-doing-kyudo", gets to be really big, and sometimes feels like a waste of time.

This certainly is a difficult discussion to conduct.

Lastly, I'd like to end on a positive note with kyudo; specifically, concerning competition. This is a very good thing for kyudo, and any form of budo in my opinion. In a competition, you most likely go to a dojo you're unfamiliar with, other competitors you don't know deeply, and are set out within a limited space that reveals your ability. In front of everybody, most of which are looking very intently at every little bit of you, you must complete the act of shooting an arrow. Actually, you shoot eight, and what you hit is what you hit. There's no "buts" or "maybes". Kyudo is about managing a lot of psychic energy inside of you with a lot of physical technique based on minute movements and balances, and so a lot of getting good at the art is managing these in a place where you can actually start dealing with them: usually a quiet dojo with fellow practitioners and supportive teachers. Competitions shake this all up so that you need to readjust, finding a solid base to shoot from. Some people don't like competition. Some people love it. Most people like the idea of it, but are scared. No matter where you are, participating every once in a while will make you a much better archer. That goes for tests too, but I'll wait for the next one I go through to imbellish this subject.

 

Aikido, my great unquestionable love, on the other hand, has no competition (at least the kind I practice). In aikido, you don't get this kind of experience, which is kind of a shame, really. When you test, you're in a "competition-like-scenario" like I described above: you're set out alone to complete certain techniques, what happens happens, and failure is possible (perhaps the key to all of this competition-testing conversation). However, you can't measure things in a strictly black and white, win-lose, kind of way so easily in aikido. There's too much grey. What is considered winning and success in aikido? Successfully throwing an opponent? Nope, that's judo. Is it successfully being thrown? (A very interesting topic perhaps only aikido could indulge, but yet not clear enough). In aikido there are so many small variables that depend much upon one's partner, it's really difficult to see the benefits of competition might afford, at least for beginners (like me!) You could say randori (aikido's free sparring of sorts where partners attack and one moves with techniques as one would like) is a good form of competition, but first of all, I don't have much experience with it, and two, it's still very difficult to see one's actual ability. The greatest problems I find in people's aikido is when they define a level of success and start chasing after it. The comes in the guise of young agro dudes at seminars throwing each other around with faces that reflect the epic tension of the battle inside. Actually, it's one of the most ridiculous things I've seen in martial arts altogether. These dudes who "go all out" at a seminar showing off to a crowd, of usually none others than aikido practitioners (who should have some idea what's going on) feeling like they're on a battlefield fighting for their lives. You know what is way cooler? The doshu (head of aikido) doing aikido with his partners with skilled technique and a calm expression, as if he's doing this as a demonstration for other practitioners of aikido.

Aikido: such a gem of practical martial arts technique and mode of self cultivation, yet so very often abused.

 

Anyway, this is difficult, too. It seems no matter where you step down with a statement, it leaves you vulnerable to a sweep.

But this blog and budo itself are less about making definitive statements, and more about doing your best and questioning reality.

I'm now left with memories of various very important conversations with my aikido sensei which all ended with the same theme:

"If you think you know aikido, then you have no idea. If you think you're good, then you're failing."

This isn't indulgence in shallow (though helpful) proverbs, but the words of a man who sincerely believes this of his practice.

If you practice an art that has competitions and tournaments, go try one! If not, do your best to shake yourself up. And if you think you know ... well, you probably don't.

New Years Gaijin: Small Things and Relaxation

Today I went to kyudo. But kyudo didn't happen. I walked out of the dojo with surprising clarity. Perhaps it was the white sparkling of snow under morning light. So I walked deeper into the park, away from the train station.

Last week I went snowboarding and hit trees twice. Finally my greed and speed caught up with me in the form of large wooden unmoving objects. The details are unneccesary, but I've been left with some terribly sore ribs and a right butt cheek I can't sit on. Last night I practiced the motion of a draw with empty hands, probing to see whether I could make it to kyudo the next day. Since I was a boy I've been constantly involved in the kind of physical activity that often produces injuries, and I've had my share in a wide arena of pursuits. Surprisingly, my mock drawing of a bow produced no pain. Everything that hurts is just the normal things I have to do in my day of walking, getting up, sitting down, turning, etc. So I decided to have a go with it. Trying to compose an explanatory text to Sensei or living in question whether I could pull the bow or not while idling away in my apartment were much more bothersome than just getting up and finding the truth in front of everyone. I went to sleep, and then I did what I always do in situations where physical feats will be tested the next day: I woke up in black fear throughout the morning. In that state of daze, I told myself I wouldn't go.

Then Satomi's alarm went off. I sat up, practiced the draw one more time in the air, and decided to get ready for kyudo.

So I went through the process of getting up, getting ready, and making the transport to the dojo to find it full of high school students. The holiday season in Japan is officially over, but apparently high school students don't go back until tomorrow. I remember working in a Japanese high school and being completely baffled by the schedule around holiday times. Students will finish regular classes and enter a strange half-day schedule of final exams. Afterward they'll come back for another two to three weeks, with another altered half-day schedule (what for?). Then after asking my coworkers and confirming the holiday had started, there were still loads of students around school for club activities or some other kind of classes. Finally holiday would start, usually on a random day during the week, and everything will begin as confusing as it ended. I don't know why. I don't care. I guess I'm like everyone else here now. I just go where I'm supposed to be when people tell me. You may think this a mundane and disreputable skill, but it's one that's taking me a long time to hone. I'm now perfectly comfortable going places I must without any idea as to what I'll be expected to do. This is a big part of Japanese life and education. Thank you Japan! I'm only a little sarcastic here.

Anyway, I walked out of the dojo and roamed. Free in the wonder of nothing! I walked as innocent as the snow is white, just trudging through boot tracks to wherever. It's fun. I've been away from work for two weeks. I got lucky with my schedule this year, and while some of my peers were called to classrooms as early as last Friday, I'm not due until tomorrow, Tuesday. My last day of freedom, made even more open thanks to my misjudging of kyudo schedules. Winter for me is a time of introspection and reflection. But of course this isn't just me. We all tend to crawl inside of ourselves when surrounded by dark snow. And if there is any real tradition in the changing of years, it's looking back at the one we've just finished and planning for that which we will soon fall into. I had two long weeks to do this, but it really isn't until today I've been able to look at things like I imagined. My first week was spent locked in my apartment indulging in the recesses of myself with the help of too much coffee and cheap Japanese beer. The second week was spent at my friends' house in another town and a snowboard trip: a time of excess, sickness, injury, and constant company: not friendly catalysts for honest introspection. The last two days I've spent alone with Satomi, watching Japanese variety shows, going to onsen, and eating home cooked meals. Those have undoubtedly been the most enjoyable days of this whole hiatus from work and budo. Now I am clean, warm, healthy; I can see.

So yes! Let's reflect a bit. I'm a week late for official resolutions, and no doubt you've heard more than you expected by now, but what the hell. Everything in it's right time.

Last spring I knew I wouldn't be leaving my current situation for a year, so I took advantage of that knowledge and filled my plate gargantuan portions of everything; more than I could really do. I told myself, "Don't worry that it is too much. Just do everything. Don't think. Do!"  Well, looking back, I'd say I did a pretty good job of it, and I'm glad I did. I've made deep paths down all those I've treaded. I've had some time to bend over heaving, regaining my breath. Now I sit, and look down the mountain.

I've destroyed a lot of goals I had throughout the past year, necessary victims of wise selection. Now, I'd say I still have enough that shouldn't be able to fit, yet I know it will.

I can do it if I relax.

The last year I bulldozed through it all. A minotaur sprinting to escape his own labyrinth. But I'm not out. It's going to take more than physical determination. Perhaps I've discovered my Mind. All of those unneccessaries I destroyed to make space, where much less physical things than mental barriers. It really is all in the mind. If you can control this one piece of yourself, you can unlock all else. Well, kind of. It's a pretty important part of existence to say the least.

Our lives are Mind. The quality of Mind determines life. That quality, which is a kind of clarity, depends upon relaxation. That relaxation is affected greatly by our physical habits. If we can know this, we can effectively encourage our physical selves to enhance our ability of Mind. This I believe is one of the great keys of martial arts, and one I have been ignorant of for the past year in a lot of ways. I thought if I just "did", the equation would work. It did kind of, but I spent a lot of time running around with my head on fire. A lot of tension and fear emerged. If you can relax, that fire extinguishes, and your Mind can see. Relax, mind the little things, and your judging mind can be used for good instead of folly. So this year I'm going to relax and mind the little things; the details.

Generally, first I'm going to do what it is I need to do, but not without relaxation and thought. As much as I can, I'm going to be careful utilizing "no" and "slow" instead of "now!" and "I have to!".

Next, I'll work on tweaking the small details of my body. Specifically, all the input that goes in. This means trying green tea in the morning instead of coffee, and reading books at night instead of watching TV shows and drinking beer. We'll see how it goes. I love beer, interesting TV shows, and coffee more than just about anything else in life, but that's precisely why they're going to be tampered with. It doesn't need to be a strict black and white regimen, but I'll at least think before opening the beverages and media.

So yeah ... that's my New Year's stuff.

Last night I told myself, "Maybe I can do kyudo, but definitely no aikido." Thwarted from kyudo this morning, I slowly tricked myself into forgetting about my realization concerning aikido and damaged ribs, and have been planning to go to aikido tonight. Before publishing this and heading off for the dojo I just practiced one simple ukemi (fall) on my carpet ...

NO F$#%&)G WAY!

Wow. It makes sense though. All the key things you do in aikido, especially concerning ukemi, require uninhibited use of your core. Rib injuries now seem to be one of the worst in this field. And I know they aren't fast to heal.

Maybe tonight I'll indulge in some forbidden fruits.

Look at that! 10 minutes into the written resolution and he's already forgotten!

Perhaps it will take a while to shake the "young" and "dumb" off this gaijin.

あけましておめでとうございます!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

It's all just relaxing

 

In aikido we learn to relax in movement.

In kyudo we learn to relax while doing something impossible.

In zazen we learn to relax while being human.

It's all just different kinds of relaxing, and all you have to do is just ... relax.

But you can't "just relax". I went to onsen today, and I didn't have anything to do. There was nothing directly in the world that I could say was interfering with my relaxing, and I was arguably in the most relax-easy place in the world. Yet, I was still holding my body instead of letting it go as I've experienced before, and I had something in my mind I couldn't let go of, but it wasn't anything in particular.

You have to practice "just relaxing", but while doing something else. I think "just relaxing" in its essence is sleeping. But when we're awake and we want to relax, we are essentially doing something as well, right? Even if we're sitting there just thinking. It's not "just relaxing", but relaxing while doing something else.

Why can't we "just relax"?

Lying Down Into Winter

I've been away for awhile. If you're into categorizations, you could say I've been in a phase. Almost a month ago I went to a very eye-opening aikido seminar, one that made me think about what is "good aikido", "bad aikido", "why we do aikido", and how I fit into all of that. This was all just after an aikido test. Somehow I had transformed pace into a violent scurry through unfriendly brush straight up the side of the mountain. Exhausted I collapsed, still very far from the top. So I sat, and thought about all this racing. Last night I went for the first time since the seminar, ending an unusually long three week hiatus. Why the absence? The world sucking out my Saturday nights. But actually, that's a bit much. That was me a year ago. In the beginning I could tell aikido to respectively "bugger off" on Saturday nights because I had things to do which didn't include productive effort. Then a year ago, Saturday night became all I had for aikido, and it became a treasure for me to hoard and defend. "Aikido: good. People: bad." Well, I've tried that for a while, and that's not what I want to do anymore. I still certainly love doing aikido, but it's not going to consume any more of my fear. My mental progress chart is a farce. So I burned it, and I won't write another. It's amazing how we go to sleep every night, maybe even in the same futon (bed, what have you) and yet everyday is so different, we cannot go back; we cannot go back. Now I'll go to aikido when I can. If it dwindles to nothing, that's the world turning; something much larger than aikido.

I've been going to kyudo consistently and feeling very good in the practice, but due to winter break (which means high school students invading the dojo) tomorrow will be the first and last practice of this week, and maybe I'll go once or twice for the next two weeks. This is also due to my own holiday: about 10 days of no work, and no obligations but a few end-of-the-year parties and an overnight snowboard trip. This is the first holiday season I've stayed in Japan. On the one hand I'm incredibly excited to have as little stress as possible, and as much opportunity to crawl into my own winter world. Yet that winter world is in a hole, quiet and sparse. I have a very warm home in the mother country of the U.S.A., one I honestly cannot imagine being any better. But instead of being in that home with undoubtedly the most important people in the world, I will be here, in my hole with the few things I have insulated as best I can from the Japanese hive I live within.

In this winter hole, just beneath my mind, ancient subliminal forces glitter in the darkness. They are real, and I wish to know better what they are. So I'll sit and attempt to conjure them out by whatever means I can. I am not dead. I am not frozen. I can change. But that change will not come about from more maddened scheming. I'll need to take a walk, then sit in a tree looking down at the snow. There are beasts to tame. In that realm, we will see aikido's true worth.

 

P.S. Signs of absence from aikido are a tight back, raising of center of gravity, and lack of connection/reaction to your partner. In kyudo, it's not being able to do anything at all.

I Still Don't Know

(picture found at http://legardenie87.blogspot.jp/2010/03/i-dont-know.html)

 

 

I don't know, so I say "onegaishimasu".

In English, it translates as "Thank you in advance." This is true, but it's a literal translation one thinks about; and so it's not quite understood with words alone. If you don't understand completely, it's not because you're stupid because you're supposed to understand, it's just you probably haven't had much experience with the term. We also certainly don't need to repent. Just go into the world and say onegaishimasu. After being in situations where you onegaishimasu, you begin to unfold understanding. Onegaishimasu is a kind of "please." You say this word before you start something with another force in which you will commit yourself to understanding. When you say this word, you humble yourself, and make yourself an "empty cup" as the saying goes.

After you say onegaishimasu, you begin a process of uke. As an uke you receive something. One could say we are an uke when we watch or listen to media, ride in trains and cars, or consume things like food, drinks, drugs, etc. For modern people living in first world nations, we spend a lot of our time in uke, but I don't think many people notice this phenomenon. That's OK. Again, if one doesn't understand, it's not because they are stupid, they just haven't had experience saying the word, or abstracting about the concept. That being said, it's not like we as moderns are redefining uke with all the stuff we are receiving. This is an ancient term that applies to all humanity from it's beginning, which is nature; past, present, and future. When we uke, we are essentially receiving, but we are not completely passive. Our participation depends on what and how we receive it, but no matter what, we are participating. We are uke when we are sitting on the couch watching TV drinking beer. We are also uke when we are fully engaged in an aikido technique being thrown or put into lock. We are uke when we taking notes in a classroom. We are also uke when we bow before entering a shrine. It's a term that applies to a wide variety of situations, and yet it's a very specific part of the universe.

I don't know, so I go to a teacher and I say, "onegaishimasu." Then I begin uke. This is very easy for me because I don't know much. It's very easy for me because I've had a lot of good teachers. A good teacher is a balance of intelligence (practical ability) and benevolence (honesty).

I went to an aikido seminar today, and I'm absolutely overflowing with things I want to say, but it's too much right now. This is what has been written. As time passes, I will grow farther away from the experience and may not discuss all of the different aspects of the experience. But that's alright, because it's all the same.

Anyway, this is all for now.

Be conscious of your uke! Are you thankful? Dissatisfied?

I don't know!

(Picture found at http://landsofwisdom.com/?p=3073)

Tenouchi: A Grip on Life

(tenouchi)

 

I want to go high places so I look up.

I want to go far places so I leave.

I want places I don't know.

If I already knew a place, I wouldn't want to go.

I want to go, and I don't know. So, I study and build a plan. In order to achieve the goal I protect the plan. A man with a plan in the world: a precarious situation indeed.

How I deal with my plan largely depends on how I fix my tenouchi (left hand grip on the bow in kyudo). As I've mentioned before, budo is often simply just putting the right things in the right places at the right times. This has very little to do with mere physical strength. Nor does it concern the kind of tenacity that blows through obstacles no matter what. It's a game of sensitivity. My teachers tell me specific points that will help me improve my technique. I listen to them and do my best to imitate, but it's not perfect. This is because I try to do what they do utilizing my strength and determination; they do it by just doing it. They utilize only what is necessary to complete the goal while I bring the whole toolbox. "But what if you need more?!" "But you don't."

"Relax" they say. "Strength will not help you."

I watch my teachers do their tenouchi close up on a small-scale and I see exactly what they mean. Their analogies make perfect sense. But, when I stand up there in front of the target, I find myself wrestling against the strength of the bow. This is the part that is hard to explain, not just for me on a blog but also teachers in the dojo.

Very mysterious stuff, this kyudo. And yet, it's all just putting the right things in the right places at the right times.

Oh yeah! I almost forgot about my apocalyptic struggle to understand life and do everything right. So, it's obvious that what isn't going to help me in life is pure strength and determination. A bit of those two things are necessary to be alive, and used in the right circumstances will greatly contribute to my growth, but beyond what I need, I don't need. Instead of blowing through life in order to protect my goal, I need to sit a bit, quietly watch, and treat my actions softly. Holding the bow in kyudo should be like just holding anything. If you're holding it, you're holding it. You don't need to squeeze it as hard as possible. If I'm living, I'm living. I don't need to live as hard as possible, or whatever. I have goals and plans rooted in my imagination, and I will continue to formulate and execute them, to much failure and suffering I imagine, but acceptance of those kinds of circumstances is paramount, just like vision to understand the situation and adapt as needed.

Fundamentally, this is the soft overcoming the hard. We are malleable entities, engaged with other various substances in the world, many of which stronger than us. We can choose to confront them with our own strength which only has two outcomes: breaking ourselves or breaking the other. Personally, I want niether of these. Perhaps we don't notice it so much when we break others (stepping on bugs, intimidating others from confronting us, our immune system fighting off viruses), so for now I'm more concerned about the possibility of me breaking under others, which is something I don't want. If I can't use strength, then I have to use something else. Here we have many options. I can creep into the cracks of the strong and break it from the inside. I could ride the strong and use it's power to my advantage. I could get out of the way of the strong and not even deal with the hassle. (Aikido analyzes this well with its geometric philosophy concerning the square, circle, and triangle.)What I am concerned with is being weak, because I am so, concerning my points of focus. I cannot break my goals like I may think I want. (Isn't it strange that initially we want to be stronger than the world and we never want to lose, and then sometimes, often subconsciously, we don't want to win, and in fact want to lose?)

Perhaps one of the biggest faults of the Hard is that it has a very warped vision of time. Either there is no time and things must happen now, or there is time and things must happen now. For the Soft, there is either no time so nothing needs to happen, or there is time and nothing needs to happen now.

"Need." What do you need? This need will make you hard and easily overcome.

We are human. We have needs. We will die because of link with need.

In order not to end on such a morbid note, I'll tell you about something interesting I learned about my kyudojo the other day.

It's a place of wonder, our small kyudojo. It's in the center of Kojo Koen, a large park that used to be the site of a castle (I'm 99% sure), and it's by far the most impressive park I've seen in Toyama Prefecture. It has a giant moat and indirect walking passages through it, some of the more notable features of it's feudal past. It's full of beatiful vegetation, some natural and some intentionally placed. There are rivers, small hills, and a few wide fields. Also, there are various centers, museums, and even a small zoo. In the very center of the park is a large shrine. Next to that shrine is our dojo. Because it's located in this kind of park next to this kind of shrine, I assumed the dojo had a very old history dating back before the modern periods of Japan, an innocent time before contact with the West. But I was very wrong. It's actually not that old of a dojo at all with respect to my deep imagination of Japanese history. It's about 40 years old, and was built from the pocket money of one man. (!!!) One of the first things I noticed about kyudo was the need for so much expensive stuff and places. The person who explained this to me told me the price, but I've already forgotten it. To be sure though, it's an unbelievable feat. After it was built, the man said that it should be a place for people who want to come to kyudo. Nobody has to do kyudo. If one comes to do kyudo, it should be based upon their own individual desire to enjoy the experience.

I will walk into the dojo from now on with that thought in mind.

(this is not Kojo Koen)

Stupid Gaijin: You Do What You Want

I usually make a point not to swear when writing on the blog, but it may come out tonight.

I had my aikido test tonight. It went well. Yet feelings are greatly unsettled. Maybe it's the feelings of a birthday as well mixed in. Definitely it is, but it's not just that, it's so many things; too many things.

I have some very Japanese goals, but I'm American. This can complicate things.

I feel like I'm eating some of the words I wrote two posts ago about seeing my budo goals in Toyama through to the end, that me with the blazing optimistic side that chooses a path and pours forth all energy to its means in the moment. Tonight I asked about future tests, and the answers were less than I desired. But what do I desire? My black belt as soon as possible. That's not a good place to start from. Specifically ... actually, I don't have the time to talk about specifics. I want the belt as soon as possible and it may not come as quickly as I imagined, that's it. According to conversations I had tonight according to papers, it looks like it may take until next next March. That pisses me off. If I wanted just the black belt, and I enjoyed it all, then it would be easy. But I don't. I want to do a lot more: so much more listing that as well just annoys the shit out of me.

Thinking about doing budo annoys the shit out of me right now. Thinking about all the other things I want to do annoy the shit out of me. It's the thoughts, the schedules, those that I've built around the thoughts I think; this intricate world I've created; a world where only things I have created exist; trust me, it's really boring.

Back to aikido for a second before I digress for a while: it pisses me off about testing times, and that's not good because we're not supposed to focus solely on that. So one ideal version is a me that just continues to practice naturally and the ranks follow ... but I'm not progressing much, at least not as much as I want. So even if I get the belt, it will be the product of time instead of the ability I want. Anybody can get the belt according to the time. This nullifies its special nature I believe it has. This is fucked. So I leave, and see what happens. But that burns the castle I've built. If I really want to be good at aikido, this is not the place for me now. But if my thoughts mean anything, then I must stay.

The path of budo is freedom. It is without limitations. And yet it is in this world of limitations. This is the puzzle we live in. It's not supposed to make sense. We aren't supposed to understand aikido, and yet we are. This is so much more than words. So much that the words disgust me a bit at the moment.

Budo is about a feeling, an intuition. But isn't it also about success? Isn't success the goal: the target we shoot at? I feel a lot, a lot of different things. So which do I follow? I don't know. That's not really all that much of a problem, except there's a lot of things claiming they do know, and they're all dictating different information. I listen to a lot of them intently. I believe none of them know and tired of being led on. I guess this is the reality of existentialism. There is no god, there is nothing. Budo is bigger than I thought. It says this, it says that, then it says it's nothing.

The problem is we follow our instincts into these holes that aren't exactly where we want to be. So what do we do there in the middle of the dark tunnel? We walk? I guess it's more like a dark forest. Or maybe just dark space, where walking doesn't do anything, and we just float.

I've been in dark forests before, and what feels good is just running. Then you wake up and you're not running anymore, that doesn't feel good.

I don't want to be boring. If I could settle on one thing maybe that's it. Fuck budo. Fuck the castle I've built. Just because I want it to be good, and have invested so much fear into it doesn't mean it's great.

The Apocalypse doesn't amaze me. It makes perfect sense. I've said this before. Especially concerning young adult males, the violent mass destruction makes perfect sense. No wonder history is filled with wars. For what? Who cares. Most people don't think that far. We just crave the feeling of the Ultimate ... something. Preparing everything for death. Living everything for life. It goes both ways. But each time you invest in one you discount the other, limiting yourself: wrong. So you need to balance the impossibility of both. People bash Christianity for its emphasis on faith, and yet that's exactly what any other holistic belief system relies upon (budo, buddhism, what have you). Not even religions, what does science show us? There is an answer to everything, but we cannot know all the answers. What do I know, I always sucked at science anyway.

It amazes me how much we need each other as the human species, because we are who mislead each other. Again, this terrible knot.

Sometimes it makes sense. Sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes I feel like I can understand without understanding. I keep making the cycle, and it looks like I won't be getting out anytime soon.

Maybe that's what pisses me off so much: I keep learning lessons, but they get forgotten so fast. If my purpose is anything in particular, it renders life sterile.

Art comes in many forms. Does that include taking my laundry down? Because I really don't want to fucking do that right now.

Sleep. Clean the tiny apartment (I dreamed it grew bigger last night, it was awesome). Go out to dinner with the girl to my favorite restaurant. See what happens. Ladeeda.

Year Without a Test: Now I Get It

Actually it's ben a year and four months since my last aikido test, a long dry spell. After my last test I changed jobs and aikido time dropped from 3-4 times a week, to 3-4 times a month. It's been a dark time indeed for aikido. Once I started this life over a year ago, I had one supreme goal: get back to a day job that would allow me to resume a plentiful aikido schedule as soon as possible. Everything focused to exit the purgatory I had slipped into.

But things have changed.

Primarily, I've found kyudo, a wonderful art I never imagined beginning. Spend enough time with something and roots will grow. Now I have another plant to attend to.

But back to the whole job thing. As far as I know, the only way I can live and earn money to live on in Japan is as an English teacher. So, I've looked for English teaching jobs. At first I thought of Interac, a public school job not unlike my last job with the Jet Program, but without the pay, vacations, and other various luxuries one enjoys on the Jet Program. Come the new school year in March, this was my ticket back to aikido. That is, until I set my eyes on teaching at a foreign language college that became the dream. I could definitely get a job with Interac in Toyama, but the college prospect is uncertain. Thorughout the year I've participated in various events to get acquainted with the school and staff (including an hour and a half presentation on how martial arts can benefit your life, focusing on Hawaiian Kenpo, aikido, and tai chi chuan, something I'd love to talk about here, but just too far in the past now). Due to application deadlines, I ditched the Interac idea in order for the college to come through. Well, I've continued participation, but I have learned nothing about the college's interest in me, past the fact they like me doing these various jobs every once in a while. One thing I have come to learn though is that it is a well sought after job by other various gaijin bums in the prefecture, and I am probably not at the top of the list. Could I get the job next March? In the next couple years? Who knows? Frankly ... who cares? The idea has grown cold; vines have already wrapped it in the history of a past me. I'm still signed up for things through January, and if something works out, I'll see what happens. Regardless, it's definitely not going to consume any more of my excessive attention. These employment puzzles have made me think a lot about getting my blackbelt in aikido here in Toyama, but always without an answer.

Until last week.

Out of the dark depths of the universe I don't usually think of, my current boss notified me of various other opportunities within the company which would move me elsewhere in the country, and upward in various judgements of "better".

I could leave it all behind and start anew. New place, new budo. I've been in Toyama for three years and wanderlust has grown quickly inside of me. It's an exciting thought: change.

Saturday night I went to aikido and had an excellent practice. November is a month of testing, and Sensei asked me about getting back on track.

"Eh? Would that be OK with my infrequent practice lately?"

"Of course! Hurry up and get your black belt and hakama! Three years of dedicated practice from you is more than enough, but I can't give it to you now. Take the tests as they come and you'll get the hakama soon."

Wow. In my mind I had some very dark images. "There's no way I can get a black belt with this schedule. My further aikidoka look down on me for it all." Stuff like that. When I go to aikido I receive everything but this, just great practice with great people who have become my family, but of course that's not what I think of on my own. Yosh! I can take the tests as they come, and I can get my black belt in Toyama like I've dreamed of. I'll take the nikkyu test this month, ikkyu in March, and then shodan (black belt) in July. If I need more time or something happens, then I can push it until next November, which is no problem. I can do it.

The next day I went to kyudo for a trial ikkyu test. It was a huge ... uneventful experience; a great example of some of the more frustrating parts of Japanese culture which require long periods of waiting. I practiced the test for 5 minutes, and spent about 3 other hours just waiting around. Anyway, in this period I realized how much goes into the tests in kyudo. I thought of Sensei who watches me everyday, doing everything he possibly can to teach me quality kyudo. It's unbelievable. He's an excellent teacher. My aikido teacher is the same. So are my past martial arts teachers. But without going on a sappy tangent, kyudo is not just something I do to pass the time until I get back to aikido. Well, maybe it was at first, but now it's my main practice, something I've become very attached to. I can't leave now. Sensei says I should be able to take my shodan test next May, and if not then, then next September. Yosh, I can do it.

I came to Japan with the dream of practicing budo in it's home country. When I started, I consciously put the idea of belt testing out of my head, leaving it up to circumstance. If it happens it happens, but I will not bastardize this experience with the desire for status. It's been less than pure to be honest, but I still hold on to the fact that focusing solely on the belts is a folly. However, it is an important part to the experience.

You take the tests because it's what you do. You take the tests because it is a manifestation of your goals and a materialization of your efforts. It's recognition from your teachers and peers, who are an absolutley irreplaceable and necessary part of budo.

It's like going to school for for three years and then dropping out senior year. Not that I believe it is wrong, just not my style. I have an opportunity to complete this story. If I do, it will be just that: a complete story. If I can finish this, it will be my greatest project; a giant mural of expression and devotion. Martial arts is art, and oftentimes it looks a lot more like an epic Western painting rather than a black and white product of Japanese calligraphy.

So, I've realized I want to move on from this place and time, but not without the fruits and closing initial chapters of the journey. One more year of snowboarding, going to freezing rain hanami parties, sweat drenched summer inferno, and then come fall, I may depart afresh.

It's all so clear now. Do budo to the best of my ability. Have fun when I'm not.

But I'm going to need a few things: some interesting books, new music and TV shows, and a lot more beer.

...

(A week later ...)

I passed the kyudo test. Will take aikido this Saturday.

After rereading this post, it doesn't quite communicate the feelings of frustration and devotion I usual feel, I think. Truly there is a large gap between worlds, inside and out. But who needs disclaimers. There is only understanding. What we see is real.

Burning Castles

 

 Stone set in the earth,

 

then, crack!

The gravity of Change,

channeled to a point.



Another castle is burning.

 



How long does one wait to flee its flames?

The Fall Routine: It's a Revolution!

 

I can only get two days of kyudo this week.

Just like last week.

I can't study Japanese like I used to.

What the hell am I going to do on the rush hour train to aikido tonight?

I can't save money like my friends.

All the complaining.

 

This is not OK.

I am "bad".

No. Fight.

But I won't be able to relax?

Shutup. You'll have skills.

I'll be tired.

Then drink coffee.

But what about having fun?

Drink at night.

What about something new?

Schedule it in.

The other weekend I went out drinking all night with the other English teachers after a seminar. I realized how amazing some of them realy are, especially one. He'll be leaving soon, and it disturbs me that I totally overlooked his presence. I wish I could have hung out with him more. There's just no time.

The other morning I slept in with my girlfriend and had all morning and afternoon to hang out, and we did. I struggled to relax as my mind searched for ways to make the day useful.

I'm waging a war with life and it's costing me everything: My health, my sanity, my friends, and anything else that isn't part of my megalomaniacal scheme to be different, better, or worthy.

The stagnant gargantuan summer humidity has dissipated across the sea. Now, red autumn razors fall from the sky. The early night breeze slices eyes and I see that I have never been here before.

 

There is so much of me I don't need. Collections of habits and modes of thought I've been reluctant to let pass. I've just been collecting and adding them together, conscious that it is too much, but negligent of the results it will bring. Well, it's time for a revolution. Not just a reformation, but a complete turning upside down of the central mode of thought. Until now the idea has been to fill every second with something contributing to my betterment. It's been a year. If I actually upgraded skills as I had planned, then I guess I have them. What I see now is that what it really did was create or reveal a lot of monsters. What I have learned is that it cannot go on like this. Now I understand what needs to happen: relaxation, enjoyment, Truth, being.

 

How does that sound? A bit too much like the New Age section in Barnes and Noble?

Well, lets get back to budo.

If there is one most fundamental and ultimate principle I've experienced in my martial arts experience, it's ...

 

Relaxation.

But relaxation alone won't get things done.

There's focus. It's in a look. The spine is straight. There is tension. They eyes are open, focused on everything; the essence of looking is found in just "looking" itself. No extra anything is being used. Deep breathing.

I didn't really talk about budo there, but how about here. I have never had a teacher tell me to tense up before a technique (with the exception of kiai, but even that isn't a simple tensing of muscles, or even contradictory to relaxing). If there's one most commonly used phrase from all of the budo teachers I have ever had, it is "relax." Looking now at any budo skill I employ, all of them would be instantly improved by more relaxation. In fact, it seems that what martial arts are trying to teach us is that it's about relaxing and then putting things in the right place in time. If I could learn to do this in the martial arts, it would help my daily life, and vice versa wouldn't it? That's the idea at least.

Then there's "fun". I remember listening to my coaches in sports give long explanations on strategies and the need to give it our all, but they always finished with, "And don't forget the most important thing to do out there is have fun." I didn't think much of it then, but it's starting to make sense.

Fun is really why I continute to put so much time and effort into martial arts. I perform my best when I'm having fun. But it's not just that immediate feeling of fun, it's also propelled by interest. If you are interested in something, and having fun, then you are already in the best possible position to progress. Interest is what really allows me to practice consistently. Practicing consistently is what leads to progress. Progress is what I want. So I must follow that small gem of "fun" if I want to get what I want, or perhaps good things I've never even thought of.

Let's go back to relaxation for a second. Relaxation isn't merely the physical relaxation of muscles which will enhance the physical movement required in martial arts, it opens up one's awareness. If you are full of stress, then that is all you have. If you fill your mind completely, then whatever it is you filled it with is all you are going to see. How are you supposed to react to violent physical threats if you can't see them coming? How can you experience anything new at all for that matter? It's the same with our bodies, if your arm is tense and you want to throw a punch, you first have to relax your arm and then move it. This is a big waste of time and energy. However, if the arm is already relaxed, it can freely move to it's target. Economical action of the body, and mind, are what allow for survival and growth.

With my new adoption of relaxation and fun, I've been playing my Nintendo 3DS on the trains. The other day I was playing the new Super Mario. It was frustrating. In video games you operate within a limited world of places you can go and things you can do, etc. You have to do just what you're supposed to, but why do you do it? The answer usually is because you want to, because it's fun. Otherwise you just wouldn't play the game. This human life is just like that! But it operates on a much broader scale; one we are submerged in and cannot escape from.

 

So why do we do what we do? Because we like it? What about it do we like? How do you know?

There is so much in my life that I don't have to do, but I do anyway. A lot of those things I am convinced are needs ... but how do I know if I really need them or not?

By seeing them.

Seeing is separating yourself from yourself, creating a space in which you can breathe and see. From that space you can see patterns and causes and effects more clearly, you can see better what is really needed. Seeing is the key.

In order to see we must wait. In order to wait we must be patient. In order to be patient we must relax.

In order to wait we must be OK with not-doing, not-having.

This runs contradictory to myself, and every human being I suppose. This not-doing, not-having, not-needing self. If there's space, then you fill it. Space is nothing. "Space is waste!" they say.

But this seeing is wisdom, this separating ourselves from ourselves. This is a good thing. And yet, it is still a small picture, because we are one and everything, we really can't separate ourselves from ourselves. So, the commonality is being. Just being itself. This being is "us" no matter what, in a direction of absolute honesty, absolute survival. No matter which "ourselves" we are looking at or thinking about, I believe this is true. We can do it well, or we can do it not well. I'm not sure how to explain it, but something is better when our wise effort is utilized.

 

I'm rambling into the pits of things I cannot accurately describe. But do you see what is the logical result of this discussion? Do you see what action is needed to put things right? That action to see, to relax, to be?

Zazen.

But I'm not going to say zazen anymore because it is a very specific word with a particular practice and image, and I don't follow it exactly. But the basic idea is the same. What I do is sit; sitting Zacky Chan style. Perhaps I'll describe it in a post in the near future, but for now, this is fine.

This is the revolution: A dropping off of the need to need all of these things that I really don't need, and in that fertile ground that is left, sitting. From there, seeing those things that I want in my life, and seeing what kind of routine follows, which is certainly not empty.

So here is my fall routine.

     Do:
          -kyudo and aikido
          -sit everyday
          -read what I like (English fantasy novels and Japanese manga) and play Nintendo 3DS
          -write on the blog

     Don't:
          -have my own personal martial arts routine
          -have a Japanese study routine
          -fill up every second of time
          -do extra eikaiwa for money
          -buy food and drinks just to distract or energize myself
          -worry

 

Nobody knows these mountains.

Where are the bears and boars?

It's so simple. I'll never get bored here.