Lonliness on the Budo Path

This morning I realized I practice martial arts to interact with people.

However, it is one of the most isolating interests I have.

My life is very big. Let's say it's a 360 degree circle I am standing in the middle of. Standing there, I cannot see my whole life. I can only see what I see, and that is what is in front of me. I know what is happening in front of me because I can see it, and I don't know what is happening behind me because I can't see it. There is nothing else in front of me other than what I see, and anything can be behind me because I can't see it. I could spin around in attempt to see everything at once, but there will always be a "behind me" that I cannot see. I could sit and close my eyes in attempt to subconsciously "see" everything around me, but that is nonsense; I would see nothing but what my imagination manifests. So, I can only see what is in front of me.

Of what is in front of me, I discern between things that I like, things that I don't like, and things I have little opinion towards. Depending on the situation, I am focusing my attention on some specific thing of what is in front of me. I engage these particular phenomenon and create relationships and reality.

I consider myself a fairly normal and healthy human because I like and try to spend time doing those things that I like. So, of all the things that I can see, my attention naturally drifts towards what I like. That area of "things that I like" is a microcosm of my reality. In that area, there are many different things that I like, and even some things that I don't like. Of the myriad things that I like, I could make one great polarizing distinction by separating everything into things that incorporate other people, and things that have nothing to do with other people. (Though I have to mention here, that in this 360 circle world I am describing, there is no area of complete lonliness or complete anti-lonliness, and often the disctinctions we can generally call alone, or not alone, can often be interpreted conversely as their opposite.)

Of all the things that I like (naturally bring my attention towards), there is one major activity for each category of  "things that have nothing to do with other people" and "things that incorporate other people." For the former, it is exploring mountains. For the latter, it is practicing martial arts. So, according to this analysis, practicing martial arts is my #1 social activity.

After this string of logic concerning my 360 degree circle world, I confirm this conclusion with a passionate intuition. "Yes, practicing martial arts is my #1 social activity." When I practice martial arts honestly with other people, inhibitions are dropped and I love the people I interact with. I look forward to practicing with other people, my martial arts skills improve with other people, and I feel lonely when not practicing with them for long periods of time. In this place, martial arts are a world synonymous with social interaction, and it's something that I like.

However, this is often a very small part of what I see. If viewed from the other side, that one of social obligations, martial arts become a lonely world where one must practice in the shadows of isolation. My world encompasses many different types of social interaction that I am supposed to like. I am supposed to like my coworkers, varous other acquaintances I meet regularly in shops, even people I don't know. What really gets tricky is that I am supposed to like the friends that I have, those whose initial purpose in my life was precisely to be enjoyed. They are separate from the martial arts, and so to them, my martial arts world is dark. This is no little thing, because in my favorite world, martial arts is king. Through this dichotomy I move with difficulty, and my stamina for the world separate of martial arts is not so enduring. In that social world, my focus is incredibly distracted, as well as everyone else's. The more the merrier? More like, the more the fuzzier and disparate. Intimate conversation is limited to small random snipits amid piles of fart jokes. Skill is determined by domination of others through witty rapport and social manipulation. Physical excercise designated to 10 minute periods of frisbee or swimming, niether of which are to be done at full exertion. Change and happiness to be found in mood altering substances.

Now, this world looks pretty dark, and some of you may be thinking, "Dude, you should get some new friends!" but that is not the case. I love my friends and enjoy what I do, but sometimes it carries this feeling, and because I think it, it is real. Anyway ... enough of the disclaimer and back to the discussion at hand ...

My martial arts world is one considerably different from the main circle of friends I frequent. Because my friends haven't visited that world, they don't know anything real about it; only what the media produces through Hollywood movies and video games. I don't look like Bruce Lee or Jean Claude Van Damme, so this is strange to them. Because they don't know, they don't understand. Because they don't understand, it's usually met with guarded views. Those guarded views make transitions between worlds very difficult. This is the exact reason why I practice martial arts: to be able to traverse new worlds. If I can make my mind sharper, my body more able, and my will stronger, then theoretically I can be functional in different worlds, namely those more difficult to endure or understand. Now, after about 7 years of practice, I see that those desired effects have come true, but I've rarely noticed it until now because I'd say most places in 1st world nations don't require such a high level of ability. I went to college ready for the world and found that the most highly acclaimed experience is getting wasted at a party or club. The pinnacle to many was ingesting drugs and doing ... what? I've also been to concerts to see incredible artists, and yet, all I'm doing is paying a lot of money and time to go stand and listen to something. Now I pay a lot of money and time to go on camping trips where I sit in a beautiful place in a chair and wait for meat to cook. Are these the pinnacles of human experience? Paying money to receive beautiful places, skillful art, and delicious food? In a world where that is true, I feel uneasy. Lately I've been looking around at everyone around me at their respective jobs and 98% of the time I think to myself, "Wow, I would hate doing that."

I want to work hard and become something great. I'm young, white, American, and male, does society have an answer for people like me. YES! Skilled professions requiring higher education.

Dr. Zacky Chan...

That sounds like it involves an extreme amount of money and time. A lot of lonely time reading complicated texts I may necessarily not be so interested in, and a lot of social time with people I didn't necessarily choose to be with. I already have to fill up my time and money on things I don't necessarily want. I'll pass.

It's funny. Every once in a while I'll be riding the train and a fairly young intelligent male will start a conversation in English with me. I'll soon learn that they are engaging that highly respected world of specified professions and concerned about living a full life.  Computer technicians, robotic engineers, molecular biologists. I ask them about their lives and compliment them on their achievements. They ask me about my future and I tell them that I'm not really sure. Furthermore, I don't really care so much. I am living in Japan to practice Japanese. But these Japanese are already practically fluent in English and have other professions they are addressing. Foreign language seems like something that you should just know on the side. So the fact I'm learning Japanese doesn't seem so interesting to them. My interest is martial arts and hiking, but these are things unrelated to the innovative technologies that are defining the modern world; more a hobby than what one should devote their greatest efforts towards. And it doesn't make money. That is always where the conversation ends, and I think they eventually pity me in a way. But the feeling is mutual. For us, we who have such high ideals on the meaning of worth and happiness, will sometimes have difficulty with others who feel the same way but translate it through different means.

This professional world that society puts on a high shelf, just doesn't interest me. I don't judge it negatively, it just doesn't correlate enough with what I like. Unless you're rich and famous, I don't think martial artists and hikers are so important in their world either.

"What should a human do their life?"

The professional world says get a Ph.D.

"What should I do?"

My friends say sit down, get a beer, and say something funny.

Riding a bicycle up a steep hill or carrying a heavy backpack up a mountain just doesn't have much place in this world. Concerning budo, learning how to manipulate someone physically or utilizing archaiac weapons to achieve the same purpose isn't so popular either.

Let's go back to the 360 degree world I'm standing in the middle of. There are people that I can see in front of me. There are people I like, people I don't like, and people I don't have much of an opinion for. Of those people that I like, my favorites have been martial artists. Because of them I have continued on this budo path. I call that beauty. Where do they fit into the world? I don't think any of them have Ph.D.'s, and none of them spend all of their free time just watching the world in a lawn chair with a beer in their hand. However, they are all incredibly intelligent and know how to have a good time. In society's eyes they are probably incredibly normal people dwelling somewhere in the middle. None of them have been very rich or famous, but in their respective worlds of martial arts, life is unimaginably full. It's not that having a respected degree or big money are undesired, but there's just not enough time, and a big part of life seems to be choosing what we do with the time that we have. I generally choose to do what I like, which is exploring mountains and practicing martial arts, so I guess in one world I'm lonely, poor, and uninteresting.

The end of summer is in sight. My friends are busy scheduling camping trips with the remaining extended weekends, but I already have plans:

1.) 2-day aikido seminar with my sensei's former training partners from Tokyo.

2.) 3-day solo hiking trip to Haku-san (Mt. Haku) in neighboring Ishikawa Prefecture.

Nothing is going to mess with these plans because I love them very much.

When my friend's are sitting in their camping chairs I wonder if I'll be mentioned. In the mountains and dojos, I will think of them fondly.

Man, I can't wait to start consistent practice with other people again and get out of my head a bit. I guess I miss my budo friends.

Standing in the River

A crane stands in the river, doesn't move much. A lot of waiting. There are fish, but not enough to swoop down and expect immediate gratification. A crane waits in the river, staring at the river. Sometimes distracted. It's not a machine.

One could stare at the river for a fish. Clear flowing river until fish. Simple. Exact. The clarity depends upon the concentration. If you become good at concentrating, you are good at catching the fish. If the goal is the fish, then you are a success. If the goal is something else other than that fish, then you are completely lost. If there is no goal, then it really doesn't matter.

So the question is, what do you want to do?

Don't think.

Feel.

I wonder if the crane knows that there is a family of fish about ten meters behind him under the bridge.

My Morning Budo Routine

1.) jo (wooden short staff) - 10 minutes

2.) ken (wooden sword) - 10 minutes

3.) striking - 10 minutes

4.) stretching - 10 minutes

5.) standing meditation - 20 minutes

"No one messes with my mornings." is what my first tai chi teacher in San Francisco used to say. He is very much a great inspiration for my morning routine. This is a man who slept on average of three to four hours a night. He would wake up long before dawn and begin his four hour morning routine of various meditations and internal Chinese martial art forms. I asked him how he managed on so little sleep, and he said "naps." But he also mentioned the energy he gained from his morning practice, and that he didn't like sleeping anyway. Since meeting him, I've strived to create my own morning routine, and have generally been able to do so for the past year. The primary motivation for this morning routine is to not only maintain, but advance my practice as a martial artist since I've been away from regular training at a dojo. Above is the skeleton of my training. Below are the explanations.

1.) jo
 
    - basic techniques
    - 2 forms: "31" and "13"

I begin with the jo to wake up into the practice.

2.) ken

    - basic techniques

Ken practice comes after the jo because I think it is a little more difficult on the body. This is due to the stop-and-go nature of the sword which ignites certain muscles more than the jo, as well as an emphasis on deeper front stances.

The jo and ken practice are mainly used to maintain the fundamentals of aikido without practicing with a partner. For example, the movements of irimi and tenkan, and empty handed movements that utilize the same movements used in ken and jo training. I also focus on keeping my back straight, not igniting unneccessary muscles (especially the shoulders), smooth breathing, using my hips to generate power, and being as rooted as possible through movements. But all the qualities in that last sentence are something that I focus on in all parts of my martial art training. In my eyes, this is often all I'm doing when I'm training; it is everything.

3.) striking

    A.) upper body
          - right/left (r/l) jab
          - r/l cross
          - r/l jab - cross combo
          - r/l front/rear (f/r) hook punches to head and body level
          - r/l f/r uppercut punches to head and body level
          - combos chaining all previously practiced strikes

          (Generally I practice these with closed fists, but will often introduce different methods such as
            open hands, elbows, etc.)

    B.) lower body
          - r/l f/r snap kicks
          - r/l f/r roundhouse kicks
          - r/l f/r back kicks
          - r/l side kicks from neutral stance
          - r/l step behind side kicks transitioning into each other with one step
        
          (all kicks aimed at various targets throughout practice)

     C.) shadow sparring with all previously practiced strikes

This is the odd-ball of the group. Striking is the seemingly least relevant to my daily life and current formal martial arts practices. However, I maintain this practice for various reasons. First, it's a way to remember the techniques I first learned in the martial arts with Hawaiian Kenpo. Second, I feel these really help the self-defense side of my training. What if I'm in a situation where I need to use a strike to stop an aggressive attacker? Nothing seems to work more effectively in distancing an opponent than using a side kick, or turning the lights out on someone like a cross. However, this is also dangerous concerning the law, which I am constantly made well aware of thanks to the Isshinryu Blog by Mr. Charles James. Don't want to lose my case for self-defense with bloody knuckles, right? Perhaps it is really anti-practical ... mmmm. Thirdly, the training makes my body feel great. It gives my muscles the kind of workout I just can't feel with aikido and tai chi chuan. Some days I go through the striking at tai chi speed, and others I rage through it with all the power of a young adult male, and that is good.

One big flaw with this training, is that I'm never actually hitting anything. You could also say the same with the jo and ken training. Also, there is never a living partner across from me to work with. This is something I'm very conscious of. There is no way to effectively simulate a training partner in my opinion. However, I make efforts to imagine partners as clearly as possible. What this does is acclimatize my mind to practicing these against an aggressive opponent.

The other day my friend playfully reached out his hand to slap me. My instincts caused me to reach out and slap his slapping hand out of the way. Is this good? I'd answer, "No". In fact I was quite upset with myself afterward and thought about it over and over again. I wish I had just stepped out of the way. Much more simple and effective. The point of my martial training is to condition me to move in a relaxed and effective manner in the face of aggression. What I did was meet that energy, and inflame my muscles and mind reacting to it. Hopefully, if I imagine aggressive attackers in my morning routine, I can practice conditioning calm and effective movements. It might not be perfect, but it's better than not.

I really wish I had some dummies or bags to hit during the ken/jo and striking practice though.

4.) stretching

          -various stretches I've borrowed from all different martial arts practices

This is one aspect of my routine I wish I could spend more time on, but given the circumstances of time, it is what it is. Nothing makes my body feel more immediately better, or allows me to do everything else just a little better like stretching does. My tai chi teacher from San Francisco said to do the form everyday. But if you can't get to the form, at least do your stretching. I don't abide by this, but I trust his opinion, and this proves how important stretching is for someone who's main goal is to use their body more effectively.

5.) standing meditation

          -stand in the zhan zhuang posture

Could it be any more simple? Just stand. However, this is by far the most difficult aspect of my training. It's also gone through a lot of phases. This is another practice that is inspired by my tai chi teacher in San Francisco. He would have us stand everyday before practicing the form, but only as long as we wanted. I asked him about it more, and he said he stood for forty minutes everyday, and that it was arguably the most important part of his training. "Well, if that's what he says, then I'm going to do it too," I said to myself. Well, it definitely wasn't a consistent practice for me at the time. About 10 times in a couple years I stood for the full forty minutes. Without a consistent practice, that seems to me now and incredible feat for myself. One that was matched with unbelievable sensations in the body and mind. About a year ago I tried to make it a routine, and so I started at 5 minutes, and added a minute each day until I got to 40. It worked! And I did 40 minutes for about a month. By far the greatest self-practice I've ever had. It helped everything in my life, and I think I was learning aikido to my maximum potential. But, that practice fell off. How do we explain these things? I don't know. I've reinstated it into my practice in my morning routine. Just doing 20 minutes. Cake compared to the 40 minutes in some ways ... but that doesn't diminish it's difficulty. No matter the circumstances, sometimes standing for 1 minute is killer. Just standing for 20 minutes hasn't exactly been consistent. Some days I'll stand until it drives me crazy and then I'll sit half lotus until my unadjusted legs can't stand it, and then I sit in seiza. Some days I'll start moving around a lot and do small tai chi chuan form practices. Other days I just say fuck it and hit the shower. After all the frustrating transitions, now I just try to stand. Without any unneccessary pressures or worries, I just try to relax and stand where is comfortable. I think this is good, and a progression in my practice. But I don't really know. Someone with more experience may say differently. Anyway, I'm starting to ramble and could write 10 posts worth on this practice alone. So I'll leave it as is. Standing for 20 minutes.

The funny thing about this morning routine is that in September when I resume kyudo training, I plan to abandon it. If you would have asked me a week ago I would have said differently. Proud of my morning practice, I was planning on waking up ealier in order to do the practice before leaving for kyudo.

But then it becomes work.

Black.

A malignant chore in my mind that infects everything around it, like a spike into sweet mother earth. Some might call it "worry".

With this spike in my mind, the workout is an unpleasant routine. Getting ready in the morning with a shower, shaving, eating, preparing a lunch and class materials become work. Studying Japanese becomes work. Going to kyudo and actually doing the practice becomes work. Then actually going to my job after that is just superwork. Then I get home and the only way to balance the excess of the day is to drink an extra beer and watch more media. Then it's of to less sleep than I need in order to start it all again.

It's amazing how much one hour can affect your day.

How do you martial artists do this while raising a family?

Perhaps I'm being a bit dramatic again. But I've gone into new routines trying to arbitrarily insert this hour of self-budo practice more than a few times, and it's never done anything but stress me out. Going to kyudo, aikido, work, and getting enough sleep and relaxation are the bones of my life that I will settle everything else on top of. If there's space, I'll happily accept it. If not, well, then it's just not for me.

I like most of the things I do in my day, and just maybe it can be enough. I don't need to idealize about something else really cool, asign it a slot in my day, and then tell myself I have to do it or I'll be a failure. The world is too big for me to spend it bouncing around my apartment anyway. It's been a good year with this practice, and it's served it's purpose as martial art stimulation in my relative vacuum of formal training. But I've found something new. It's time to move on. I'll put this morning routine to rest, and resurrect it again one day in a new form when the time comes.

My life is a painting to experience instinctively with fluid excitement. Not a science textbook to copy all the details under the sun.


  

When Aikido is More Work Than Work

Summer is absolutley the worst time for aikido. Actually, I'm convinced it's the worst time for any martial art. A combination of beautiful weather, summer events, and friends who don't fill their free time with activities that depend on consistent practice all make for a difficult time in getting to the dojo. I've been able to rationalize setting aside that 6:00-10:30 pm block of time for budo on a regular schedule during other times of the year, but it inevitably suffers in the heat. What should we do? Abandon our practice for the immediate callings of now? Or devote ourselves more intensely to our art shutting all else out? I used to think there was a "right" and "wrong" answer, but have come to realize that we in fact create the answer, and "right" and "wrong" are only involved if you allow them to be.

Monday day off. My one day off sandwiched between two four-day-periods of "Summer School", intensive courses for the children's English school I work for. One of those experiences that seem to make people say, "Fuck it, I'm doing exactly what I want on my day off." For some people this means sleeping as much as possible and watching lots of TV. For others it means utilizing every second of daylight for physical activity. Both are worthy reactions to heavy work schedules, I just tend to choose the latter. I had plans for a long ride into the mountains and then go to aikido.

On the train home the night before, I got a text from another English teacher who lives in the same building. She wanted to go out for a drink to celebrate our halfway point in Summer School. I had already been thinking of how to walk into my apartment and fall straight onto the futon for as much rest as possible before my adventure, but I really couldn't refuse such a request; especially since I rarely do so with the people I work with. (Perhaps another topic worthy of a blog: Self-inflicted lonliness on the budo path) I went out, and long story short, I spent more money and got less sleep than I had hoped for ... oh well. These days off also have a way of destroying inhibitions concerning the little things. This event did push my morning departure an hour and a half later though, which may or may not have changed the entire trip.

The next day's adventure was an epic journey; just what I wanted. But in a sense, one full of a lot of "failure". The biggest of which was the failure to decide fully what I was going to do with respect to aikido. Theoretically, I could go on an all-day adventure and make it back in time for aikido. Practically, this is a horrible idea. First of all, my body physically can't take it while maintaining a good mood (perhaps a topic worthy of another post). I've done the summer bike ride followed by aikido when I used to live in Kurobe, but I am lifeless and usually have some kind of stomach ache because I didn't eat enough or I ate too much while my body is trying to adjust to the heat. Secondly, the bike rides I used to take would last about 6-7 hours, whereas now they run 10-12 hours. "Why don't you just take a shorter ride?" one of my coworkers says. Yeah ... that's not going to happen. Thirdly, what really kills the bike ride + aikido equation is the commute to training. Walking 15 minutes to the train station, riding for 30 minutes, walking 20 minutes to the dojo, followed by a return trip just as long, kills it. No one wants to be a soggy baked potato for an hour train ride. If I was really being nitpicky, I could complain about the $15 cost as well. Even on regular days, this taxes my mind: 4.5 hours and $15 for 1.5 hour training that I already pay monthly dues for. Well, if training in aikido is really what you want to do, then you should just bear up and do it right?

If you really want to ride your bike in the moutains you should just do it right?
If you really want to do both you should just do it right?

Then it's work.

I think it's hard for people to accept martial arts into their life as just a hobby. It's got something to do with the standard of perfection: Utilizing everything to achieve a goal, aiming for "mastery", kill or be killed. I don't know exactly, but the tendency is there. If work, like your job, is something that you have to do to live in society, then martial arts becomes something like super-work. You can have your job, lose your job, but throughout, if you want to master martial arts, you have to always be practicing. It has to be as much as possible all the time if you want to be your best, right? I think we can see a lot of problems with this mode of thinking, but the one that resounds most with me is that, it's just not fun anymore. I really want to go to aikido, but I REALLY want to go on a bike ride. If I'm going to spend my day doing exactly what I want by going on a bike ride to the mountains, forcefully shoving other plans into the equation just ruins all the fun. If that's the case, then screw perfection. It's kind of like, "Hey, if you want to master the sword, then you should practice the basic downward strike 10,000 times a day. But I want to super-master the sword, so I'll do it 20,000 times! YEAH!" Doesn't sound like much fun right now.

So I've become familiar with this quandary of how to fit aikido into a days off like this, and pretty much have it reasoned as set out above, but I still wasn't completely convinced at the time of my last ride. I set out that day 90% sure I was going to skip aikido. I tried to keep the prospect of going to aikido in a small corner in the back of my mind, but unfortunately, it was an ugly super-work monster sitting on my handlebars staring at me all day. "Man, that mountain looks really interesting, but if I go then I definitely won't make it back in time." "Whoa, look at that onsen, but that will add another hour and a half probably." Each major step along the path was marked by looking at my watch and contemplating an early return for aikido. I think I physically went all the places and did all the things I would have done even if I hadn't been worried about making it back to aikido in time ... but those thoughts were a big waste of time ... or at least they weren't fun. In the end, it didn't matter anyway because I didn't end up going to aikido, though interestingly enough I made it back in time to be able to catch the train if I wanted.

That day's trip was particularly far away, and included a lot of flat land riding through towns. I don't like this. But it usually isn't so difficult and is just a pain in a time consuming way. So on the return, when I reached what I would call the beginning of the home stretch, I stopped at a conbini (convenience store) for a road beer. This was a kind of subconscious sabotage against aikido, and would make me 99% sure I wasn't going ... but there's still that 1% lingering. Anyway, riding my bike through the town's extremely ill-maintained sidewalks while trying to drink a beer was really unpleasant, so I stopped to enjoy it in front of some apartment complex. I sat on the concrete next to a small stream and stared up at the clouds which was incredibly relaxing. Hot summer afternoon after a long epic ride, drinking a beer in an unknown place ... heaven for me. But what about when you finish the beer? When the music's overrrrr ... Shit, I need to get home. Oh well, saddle up and just get through it. Let the beer's effect on your mind put you at ease and just cruise home. Well, along with an elated mood, the beer also made my legs feel like rubber. By drinking that beer, I told my body "Congratulations! You did it!" But then my body said, "Then why the hell are we getting back on the bike?"

Well, the return reminded me of one of my absolute least favorite things about Japan: the roads. I don't mean the conditions of the roads, they're usually very nice. It's their ... roundabout way of getting places, probably due to the fact that the towns are centuries older than the roads, and there's 10x as many people and things as back home. I was in one major city, trying to get to another, one could easily draw a straight line between them on the map, but you can't just get a straight road there. You wouldn't believe how many times I'd be on a straight road headed directly home, and then all of a sudden it starts veering off to the side. "Whoa whoa whoa, what the hell!" Then I'm winding around small hills, ones that feel mountainous after 12 hours on the bike, faded by beer, and still thinking about making it back in time for aikido. Certainly some form of hell.

This ... is crazy. My mind is in knots. I'm Thesus in the Labyrinth with my string trying to find my way, but before I know it, the Minotaur shows up in front of me. I find myself fighting, but all I want is out.

But do I?

I'll take a leap and say that this is some kind of addiction ... addiction to excess in the things I want and the struggle involved. A megalomaniacal pursuit of what I consider to be the good life, further provoked by the rationalization that there is nothing standing in my way. Perhaps I love the beast that is too big and hairy and nasty for me to even see ... and it's probably getting bigger. I want to change, and yet am skeptical of it's absence.

Perhaps I'm letting the goblins run loose on this blog post.

In the end of the day, I got home and watched a movie accompanied by bottles of Asahi, and got a long night of sleep. It was a painful day of riding in many ways. I won't let all this processing go to waste.

I learned some huge lessons that day:

1.) Don't underestimate the ride from Takaoka to Toyama.
2.) Don't drink beer until the end.

and most importantly ...

3.) Don't try to go to aikido when I do these day-long bike rides.

Why do rules so often become "Don't ..."?

One last thought.

When I was a kid I used to play a lot of video games. Two of my favorites were the Legend of Zelda, and Mortal Kombat. Not only did I enjoy playing them, but the stories and philosophies behind them captivated me, and have continued to do so years way beyond playing them. One could say a large part of my motivation to learn martial arts can be found somewhere in the thoughts of Mortal Kombat. The same could be said for exploring new lands and going on adventures with Zelda.

I guess Zelda always was my favorite.

(The pictures in this post were taken from the bike rides I've taken this month.)

2 Month Kyudo Course: Complete - Enter: Real Training

Yesterday I went to the Kyudo dojo for the last time as a member of the two month course I've been attending thus far. Soon I will join regular classes and solidify this as an activity of great importance in my time here now. I say "soon" instead of "tomorrow" or something a little more immediate because I will be on a month-long hiatus due to mass invasions of high school students in the dojo during their summer vacation. And that's OK. This gives me time to mill over the mass download of information from the past two months, research outside sources on this practice, and experience the peak of summer with full participation in its fiery onslaught.

The changing of the seasons is huge for me. I sense great meanings in their passing and am deeply affected, and thusly interested, in their quintessential characteristics which bring about certain aspects of our personality, the surrounding environment, and existence as a whole. Summer. It's always been the most difficult one for me to find clarity in. As a kid it meant summer vacation, fireworks, going to the lake. A time where the schedule of school is temporarily burned off ... but only temporarily ... and that's something I think every kid is conscious of, or at least I was. In college it meant coming home to work a manual labor job and run around the island with the crazy wolf pack that are my hometown brothers. In Japan it means enduring temperatures and levels of humidity that take me to the limits of my north-western North American raised, northern European blooded self. It means joining my friends on camping trips which seem to end up feeling more like circus tours. And it also means that the snows melt in the high mountains and I get as close to them every chance I get. ACTION ACTION ACTION. Heavy metal and ice coffee accompany this well. Aikido time suffers a bit as a natural casualty and studying is difficult to maintain. Reflection? I'm sweating everywhere I go whether I'm under the blazing sun or not. A strange heat boils inside of me in the humidity. My friends are offering me more whisky than I asked for. And I've got things to do! Not much reflection during this time. I knew this going into May when things started warming up, and I expected just to pack the summer full of epic adventures and think about them later. The two month Kyudo course was part of that plan, and though the summer is still building to its climax, I'm already thinking about the next season: Fall. This is where my imagination thrives. A cooling down and returning to official study; preparing for the hibernation of winter. This time will be ushered in by my return to Kyudo.

Yes. Back to budo! Sorry about that little tangent there, but it is incredibly relevant. It seems I'm enjoying this little reflection period and will continue to do so just a bit more.

Dammit. I lost my train of thought. Oh well ... When in doubt, grab a rock.

The picture above is ... ME! And that stick in the bullseye, that was my first arrow to hit the target. The whole time leading up to it I wondered what it would be like; to have some kind of sign that you did something right. Well, I got a disgustingly huge smile across my face. One of those that are impossible to hide or subdue. The fact that I hit the bullseye sent that smile to infinity. How could I hit the target any more than I did? But by no means am I gloating about this though. The next two arrows I shot went flying in just as strange directions as all the arrows I shot before that fateful one. It's as if our success is completely random, or at least far beyond our own logical comprehension. Before I hit the target, I tried as I could. After I hit the target, I tried as hard as I could. That one shot I hit the target, I tried as hard as I could. Why, when all the other times I failed, did I hit the target that one time? I don't know.

But seriously, I know so little about Kyudo. What this two-month course has done is taught me how to stand. There are so many small details about this art, like our body's motor skills, that to be able to simply shoot an arrow at the target on your own is the managing of a lot of little things that those who have accomplished have probably long forgotten. After two months, I went from a babbling baby crawling around on the floor, to a toddler who can stand without Sensei holding me up. I think he was just as happy as the students while we all drank tea and ate crackers at our little graduation ceremony. Thinking about this now reminds me of the personal bonds you form with your teachers, students, and fellow practitioners. Through the incredible physical, mental, and spiritual struggles you encounter together, things just seem to settle into a family. I don't remember the context or the exact words, but my first teacher told me when I was 17 years old that the bond between a student and his teacher is like the perfect father-son relationship. Saying that to me had a great affect, and surprisingly even more so now. I'm sure he was aware at the time that I was raised without a father, but this idea is free from the limitation of having your father in your life. Free from specific circumstances, yet steeped in emotional goo.

I don't know. I don't care so much either.

A cloud passes over the mountain. How could I see every blade of vegetation around the river?

Anyway, my Kyudo sensei is cool and I look forward to continuing this journey in the art under his supervision and guidance.

I just stepped outside and heard some dude playing the guitar and singing next to the river. A brave artist. I wonder what it would be like to do the Tai Chi form in the park for everyone to see. That's not going to happen now. Hey seasoned martial artists, does that get easier to do? And why are these damn Japanese apartments always hotter than outside?

Check in soon about more budo experiences in aikido, my new study of kyudo, zen meanderings, and maybe some mountain adventures. If any of you practice kyudo, please let your voice be known in the comment section!

Have a nice day.

 

Kyudo: My New Study

Almost a year has passed since I shifted jobs and locations here in Toyama Prefecture, Japan. That's also how long I've been away from frequent and consistent Aikido training. For almost a year I've been in exile here in Toyama City, visiting children's English classrooms instead of dojos after nightfall. I had a lot of ideas about how this new chapter would run, and how it would transition to the next phase. I suppose I was accurate in the presumption that I would take advantage of this new situation by cultivating a solid independent study of martial arts and Japanese. Those have been successful I'd say. But I didn't foresee the large amount of time ... wasted(?) ... perhaps that's a little harsh ... time spent ... worrying(?) ... or maybe just brooding, on my life and current situation. What I have with my new situation is a large amount of free time in the mornings and afternoons. With that I've climbed mountains, literally as well as figuratively with my own studies ... but I also went through a lot of swampy terrain in my head, which I'm not sure was necessary. Well, it is what it is, and without digressing too much, it is enough to say that I haven't taken the time to find new budo practice with my free time; at least until about a month ago. It all started with a conversation with one of my sempai, a coworker-mentor of sorts; English doesn't seem to have a good word for this particular relationship.

Sempai: "Dude, I think I'm going to get back into Kyudo. They're offering a two-month course at Kojo-koen in Takaoka."

Me: "Really? Can anybody join?"

"Yeah, doesn't matter who you are as long as you pay the cash."

"Mmmmmmm..."

"Wanna join? It's Tuesday and Friday mornings from 10 - 12?"

(Thinking to myself in my head: "Mmmm, Kyudo??? I'd rather just worry about aikido. And 10-12 in the mornings? I'm kinda trying to do my own English lessons on the side for cash, I can't be starting Kyudo as well right?")

"Nahh dude, I'm kind of busy."

"Whatever, dude."

After I went home ... with a lot of that open time I have, and just thought. I thought and thought and thought a lot. I guess that's how a lot of my time has been spent. It sounds boring, but when you drown it with coffee and think about all the other little details of things you should do, it really feels pretty busy ... hectic even ... actually apocalyptic at times.

So I thought, and then a part of me stood against the rest of me:

"Are you f$%#ing SERIOUS!?!?!?!...

 You came to Japan exactly for this reason! You would have done tea ceremony if it was offered from the beginning, but instead you found exactly what you wanted in aikido. Well, things changed, and you're trying to get back ... but are you seriously going to whine about not being able to practice budo in Japan while being offered this course in one of the coolest budo of all? TAKE THE FLIPPING CLASS!!!"

I then talked to my sempai face to face about joining and he took me immediately to the park to sign up.

And so now, two mornings a week, I practice Kyudo and I absolutely love it. Should I have started it earlier? That's a stupid question. I'll just write down some of the details about the class now, and elaborate with funny stories and revelations later on.

Location: Kojo Koen, the most beautiful park in Toyama Prefecture in my opinion, located in Takaoka City, the second biggest city in the prefecture and a 20 minute train ride from my house (close compared to aikido practice). The dojo is a beautiful building, with a long grass lawn until the 5-target set up.

(a picture of the Takaoka Dojo, the grass is more overgrown right now and looks cooler I think, also there's usually one more target on the left side)

Cost: 5,000 yen for the 2 month course, 2,500 yen for the small essentials like a rubber practice apparatus, string, guidebook, cloth that goes over the hand underneath the glove you use. (once I get more familiar I'll probably use the official Japanese terms. But I don't expect you guys to be familiar with the terms either, so maybe it's for the best)

Class Members: Tuesday mornings: Me, my friend, Sensei, and three of his senior members present solely for the purpose of helping me and my friend. Any of you budo practitioners should be messing your pants after reading that, because it's an unbelievable oppurtunity! 2 students and 4 teachers! All to ourselves for 2 hours! Friday morning, there are two other members, which hardly affect Sensei's time. If that's not enough, there's an evening class offered as well, which has 18 students. I don't even know how they all fit in the dojo holding bows. And, there's only Sensei and one senior member helper. I guess I'm pretty lucky for my open mornings after all.

Sensei: Strong, funny, aware. Excellent qualities. I've come to like this guy a lot, and have built quite a bit of trust with him. In my budo experience, the people, and for a student's sake, the teachers, are what are most important, and with that, I progress happily through this two month course.

(this is a picture of the actual inside of the Takaoka Dojo)

This morning I realized we only have three classes left in our 2 month course. Due to prior obligations, my friend will return to his prior dojo at the end of the course in another town. But as for this gaijin, I will be taking measures to make Kyudo a very important practice in my life with this dojo.

But not too important. I still have other things to do ... like drink beer ... or at least the cheap imitation stuff I can afford to consume.

the Return of the Gaijin

Hello! Konnichiwa! Hola!

The hiatus has been long. Winter snows have long since melted. I have things to say: Tales of mountain quests, dojo battles, and myriad contemplations of what exactly is ... happening. So much has come to pass since words were last typed onto this online medium, but a recounting of those events is not necessary. Long have I contemplated a return, a period frought with doubts of whether I can maintain consistent participation ... but that is also not important.

This is not a place for whimsical thoughts; ones thought on idle clouds. Like farts in the wind, I let them pass. Rather, this a place to discover meanings by plumbing depths of shadowed psyche. One born from a need to know. Many trusted texts advise inactivity and restraint, but to follow only what is written is to misread everything else. So I've sat. Mass erosions of expired cliffs have fallen into the sea of elsewhere. Demons who lept back for survival were timely executed. Now what remains holds great meaning. Only so much can fit in a pack that travels up mountains.

There is a need to know.

What I think is me, but I can't see it clearly, so I write. But writing hidden pages whose only company is a trash can is little more revealing. So I write here, throwing rocks at your walls. Will it make a sound? Let me hear it and comment!

Yes. Thank you. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu.