Can't Put Down the Sword

(cool pic found at http://educarneiro.blogspot.jp/2010/10/cold-samurai.html)

Today I rode to the dojo planning to tell sensei that I was going to stop iaido.

As I rode up to the dojo I saw his silhouette swinging the sword and flowers flooded my mind. My courage wavered and when I walked in and said goodmorning I didn't want to quit. As I got changed I thought about how I could tell him my decision, and as I stepped out my volition shrank to the size of an umeboshi (very small Japanese plum fruit) and I knew it wouldn't happen today.

The number one thing we learn in the martial arts is not to worry.

When you have a problem you think. You think why this problem arose, how you can fix it, and the worry disappears. Then you move and live.

It's all just cause and effect.

Technical perfection and a complete absence of fear are both impossible abstractions. We are not perfect and we are going to have our Great Failure: death. We must accept our mortal fate and continue our lives the way we want, maybe that means the best we can. Maybe that's the -do, "the way".

Aside from that we're focusing on the details, the jutsu (technique).

So we don't worry, but that's just what I've been doing.

Issues of time, I guess. I don't feel like I have enough for all the things I want to do. I've gone far enough in kyudo to see what it takes to improve. I know we should not obsess or worry about success, but I want to be better. That's not a bad thing. I want to improve and I want to spend the time with it to do so. I want something I can put my full effort into and progress in. If I'm spending more time thinking about kyudo than doing it then it bugs me. This is kyudo for me. It is an art and a source of deep friendships and love. If one made me choose one art for the rest of my life right now, I would choose kyudo with confidence, as strage as that may seem.

I think if I could put all of my effort into kyudo it would be beautiful. If I could just cut off iaido, my kyudo would bloom to what I want...

but I just can't.

Thinking is what trips me up. I make demons and angels, but the actual practice is unexplaninably fulfilling for me. I've grown very attached to my sensei in these last two months, and I think he has to me. I love my iai practice.

What it really is is fairly small. It's Friday morning for about an hour and a half and $50 a month. In time if I continue I'll start the jo which will add about another hour a session and another $40. It is a day away from kyudo. It is money I could otherwise use for savings, bills, or anything else. (It's also about not doing martial arts, and the vaccuum which would allow me to enjoy other things and subconsciously process better what I have already learned ... but that's a whole discussion for another post.)

I don't know.

On the paper in my mind I should quit. It moves my emotions to want to quit.

In real life I can't. My body and the outside world draw me in.

Now I'm back in the mind, and I'm being drawn into the labyrinth of details that are too much for this blog ...

but I do have a big point here I want to communicate:

The good thing about all of this is that there is no need to rush, and no decisions to quit are forever.

I don't have to make any decision now. I can think and see how things go and quit next week or the next, or next month, or next year. There's no need to decide right this second.

This is HUGE for me. I usually deal with such matters with an apocalyptic urgency. It's unecessary and unbecoming. This is something I want to change.

Also, even if I stop I can always start again.

I know this cause I talked to sensei about this last week.

I've had thoughts of quitting for the last month and finally voiced them with sensei last week.

That was a very good decision. I think the worst thing you can do is just show up one day and resign out of the blue leaving no room for discussion or goodbye's. What you do in training is learn from a teacher. Of course we're learning physical skills, but I think we can learn much more about living our lives and how to make decisions at the various crossroads we come to. My sensei is there to help me and wants me to succeed, even if it means discontinuing training. A good teacher will always help you on your way no matter what.

So I told sensei about my worries and asked him as someone who has practiced various arts over a long time, what he thought about my worries. He sensed my direction pulling away from iaido and I could see him feeling a big distraught. Wse talked a lot but basically there were 3 main parts.

First, if you're practicing too many arts and your time is spread too thin, you won't learn anyhing in either of them. That's not good, and in that case, you should pick one.

Second, I can stop and restart anytime. The dojo's not going anywhere and nobody would harbor any malicious memories towards me for taking or break or making the decision to focus on other things.

Third, if iaido takes over your life and takes precious time away from my wife and relaxation, then it is not worth it.

There is no need for the sword, but there is a need for our contentment.

Art should support our life, not replace it.

So I continue.

But I don't know.

Mugai Ryu Iaido

(A picture of the founder of Mugai-ryu: Tsuji Gettan Sukemochi found at http://www.fudochi.org/cat11/cat15/)

DISCLAIMER: I have only been practicing for about two months, have no other experience in iaido, and have not read much on the art. Also, everything I take in from my class is in Japanese and I don't understand 100% of everything that is said.

You shouldn't believe everything you read anyway.

But to the subject at hand!

I practice Mugai Ryu iaido, one of many different styles in the art of iaido, and I've been anxious to learn what makes it different from other styles.

I've done some research on my own in the internet but haven't found much. Most of the information I got I found on Wikipedia where it talks about the founder of the style, Tsuji Gettan Sukemochi, who was born in 1649. He practiced Yamaguchi-ryu iaido and also studied Zen Buddhism and Classical Chinese Literature. Eventually he created his own style, Mugai, a word taken from a poem that was given to him by his zen teacher (which I have included at the end of this post). Other sources I have read said that Mugai-ryu is influenced greatly by zen philosophy. Like many other budo during the time of relative peace in the Edo Period, budo underwent a lot of transitions from the battlefield to the abstract.

Other than that very small research (please notify me of other sources if you know any on this style!!!) I have what I've been absorbing in the physical practice and talks with my sensei. I'm not sure how much of it overlaps with other styles of iaido, because I don't know anything about other styles, but I'll just mention what my sensei has said is characteristic of Mugai-ryu, which may also be similar to other styles.

When we swing the sword, we don't merely swing down, hit, or rip through anything ... we swing the sword using our wrists to snap the blade forward so that at the moment of impact the tip of the sword falls first (not the hand falling with the blade following), and from there we pull the sword. When we swing forward in the standard strike, we raise the blade above our head, swing forward snapping the wrists so that the blade finds the target as quickly as possible, and then we pull the blade towards our bellies.

Mugai-ryu emphasizes speed, because once you're hit with a blade a cut can be made. Cutting with the blade happens at only a few inches at the end of the blade. Contact with that part of the blade is made, and then pulled to rip open a long cut. There is no idea of cutting all the way through something using bull strength and momentum. We're not focusing on cutting people in half in Mugai-ryu. Mugai-ryu utilizes fast precision cuts to take advantage of distance and timing.

One interesting idea which I think may be very different in other styles is that Mugai-ryu doesn't seek to overtake an opponent with one deadly strike. Many of the wazas I've learned utilize two strikes on one opponent. Often, the first is more of a movement to move faster than the opponent and set him off balance, once that is achieved, the final strike is made.

For example, in one waza we begin sitting in seiza imagining an opponent sitting across from us. Once the opponent starts to move unsheathing the blade, we begin as well. Once the opponent raises the blade above his head for a downward cut, we cut with a diagonal upward slice, but this is not intended to end the opponent there, but more so set him off balance. Once that balance is upset we step forward and strike down on the open opponent. A lot of techniques seem to follow this practice, and sensei says this is characteristic of Mugai-ryu.

To be honest I didn't really like this at first. Idealizing in my head without practice, I would think that you should end an opponent as simply and quickly as possible. Shouldn't you try to do this in one move? Why waste an initial movement that isn't even intended to cut?

I don't have clear answers for this right now, and am left to my own mental meanderings.

One thing our sensei says is that what we are practicing has a long history that is based on real experiences. This style developed this way because of millions of people using the swords over hundreds of years. It was not thought up in isolation and practiced without experimentation. Some of the practices or reasonings may seem strange to us, but then we have 0 experience using a sword to kill someone in battle. With that, you kind of have to trust what your sensei says on this, experience different styles, and judge for yourself.

Another main point sensei is trying to teach us is that the first person who moves or initiates an attack is at a great disadvantage. He tries to explain to us using physical examples and parts of it make sense. This is familiar to me in aikido where most all wazas are in reaction to an incoming attacker (though there are pressing instigating movements like atemi-waza as well). However, something about this seems a bit strange to me, and there's something stuck in my mind similar to Bruce Lee's theory that the best defense is a good offense, that you never defend, and rather press on an opponent to win.

It is on this subject that we begin talking about Katsujinken and Satsujinken. Katsujinken is translated as the life-giving sword. I first read about this from the Edo Period's Yagyu Munenori in his book, "The Life Giving Sword." The implication of this term is that the sword should not be used to kill, but to protect. This is in contrast to the Satsujinken, which is the life-taking sword. Perhaps a Satsujinken style is one that focuses only on successfully killing an opponent with the sword.

The description seems simple, but it's really difficult to differentiate the two isn't it? Of course the sword is used to kill people. In iaido we're learning to swing a sword in order to defeat opponents. If we're not using a sword with the intention of cutting something, then what is the point? Why not do something else? If you're so worried about taking life, why even have a sword?

This conversation seems to come up in my mind and in conversation with others in relation to the martial arts. I think it's popular in the West to practice a martial art with "real" practical ability. What the means exactly I'm not completely sure, but people seem to want to practice the "most effective" martial art which can defeat an opponent as simply and quickly as possible. Though this is said, the image is of violent fast strikes with big muscles. I think of UFC and the idea that it's training the "best" warriors because it pits styles against each other and you're seeing lots of very ferocious young men who probably could kick a lot of people's asses. It's funny that budo also seeks the "most effective" way of doing things by completing an act as simply and quickly as possible, but the image is completely different. But then there isn't one image, because each martial art in budo is completely different.

Back to the point ...

I could imagine talking to a lot of people who would say, "I want to practice the real iaido, the one that is the best at killing people, not some pussy knock off that idealizes not using the sword at all." Perhaps the discussion doesn't have to have such a violent intent, and one could say that they want to practice the most effective sword style, and with that superior ability, develop an idealogy of not killing others. Maybe that's what Mugai-ryu is?

I've had this discussion in aikido often as well. People ask why practice a martial art that emphasizes evading and moving an opponent around instead of just striking and ending an altercation immediately? There's a lot of different ways to go about this, and the discussions could last for hours, and pages, and lifetimes. It's interesting though that although people accept that martial arts aren't used often and that we should follow peace, but then desire to practice the most vicious violent arts out there. It's like they're just saying, "Oh yeah, we shouldn't hurt each other and the art isn't used in practical life ... but I could kill you in two seconds if I wanted to." I think it's an obsession with power and a fear of loss.

The most interesting about all of this though, is the mental position one takes when adopting a particular style. People like to think they can do one thing and yet think another, for example practice a deadly martial art while advocating peace, but people underestimate the ability of the techniques they seek to imprint on their subconscious.

I first realized this idea when practicing Tai Chi and reflecting on my Karate practice. In Karate we practice wazas that are meant to defeat opponents using strong fast strikes. We practice these wazas until they are ingrained inside of us so deeply that we can react using them without thinking. Well, what happens when someone comes up behind you and taps you on the shoulder and you turn around firing a strike right into their face? What happens when you get in an altercation with a drunk person at a bar and end up using a strike that kills or debilitates them? Maybe they hit their head on the curb and bled to death because you knocked them out cold on the street.

What happens when you meet an opposition and your natural inclination is to "defeat" it?

This is dangerous physically to ourselves and others, and develops an aggressive success-obsessed mindset that is afraid of loss. This is an angry prison world damned for hell. You cannot win. You cannot be happy.

To me, this is the Satsujinken, life-taking sword.

So after class I asked sensei about the characterstic of Mugai-ryu where one doesn't seek to cut someone in one strike, but utilizes a few strikes to knock the opponent off balance and then finish. He said it was particular to Mugai-ryu. I asked if there were other styles that focused on cutting someone immediately with one strike and he said of course there were a lot. He then showed us a couple wazas from the Eishin-ryu. I was surprised to see this, and asked him about it. He's practiced different kinds of iai but he decides to teach and follow Mugai-ryu. I asked him if he like Mugai-ryu better than other styles he's known. At an older and higher ranked teacher with a lot of skill and experience, I would assume that he would choose "the best" style.

When answering he said, "I guess it has to do with katsujinken. In Mugai-ryu and in accordance with the katsujinken, a practitioner doesn't necessarily seek to fight an opponent. In fact, a Mugai-ryu practitioner would wait for an opponent to begin a move, but if nothing happened, then nothing happened and there is no reason to fight. Furthermore, maybe someone draws their blade against a Mugai-ryu person and so the Mugai-ryu practitioner draws. Maybe they stand there and the other person realizes the Mugai-ryu person is stronger and decides not to fight. At that point the Mugai-ryu won't mind and the problem can cease. Maybe the other person swings and the Mugai-ryu person cuts them and then they run away. The Mugai-ryu person will not chase them, but will be content without having to kill."

These are all just ideas and discussions. We are talking about various scenarios and ideas. This is a big part of iaido I think.

In aikido we are utilizing practical empty-handed movements, but shy away from talking about it too much and just train having the techniques ingrain themselves and naturally effect us.

Kyudo is so disconnected to modern self-defense that we don't even need to talk much about practical application. We just practice the technique in an honest fashion and that's good enough.

But Iai is another strange world where practicality, cutting instead being cut, and life and death is heavily considered, yet actually using a sword in an altercation is as unlikely as finding a dragon. Like the other arts I've practiced in Japan, I'm focusing on the physical technique: reaching out with the tip of the blade and pulling towards me, moving through the movements of the particular waza. But I'm also thinking and talking a lot with sensei about the philosophy. Perhaps more than other arts Iai allows for philosophical meandering.

But then I don't really know. Practice is fun, so I'll keep going and learning.

I here leave you with the poem from which the Mugai name came from:

一法実無外
乾坤得一貞
吸毛方納密
動着則光精

Ippou jitsu mugai
Kenkon toku ittei
Suimo hou nomitsu
Douchaku soku kousei

"There is nothing other than the One True Way
Heaven and Earth profit from this single Virtue
The fluttering feather knows this secret
To be settled during confusion is to be enlightened and pure"

Sensei's Greatest Concern

(Cool pic found at http://stevegoad.deviantart.com/art/A-Place-Called-Haven-170206281)

Will I continue?

I'm thinking of my specific situation in iaido, but it relates to all sensei and students everywhere.

In my experience, and from what I've read of other traditions of martial arts, meditation, or anything in particular involving a teacher and a student, the number one most important factor, and so therefore the most brooded over by teachers, is this question:

Will the student continue training?

On the one hand, the idea of all of these practices is that one's training is never finished, so we must continue cultivation until our end. In a way, once a person stops, it's all over. One could say it's a waste of the teacher's time if the student quits early. In that respect, ideally a student should practice until they improve beyond their master and can then pass the teaching on to someone else, who will then again surpass the teacher. This is an idea you can rationalize, but it's also the number one most serious feeling I've ever sensed from my teachers. I've practiced many martial arts, and so I've moved and stopped training in many of them. I've said a lot of goodbyes, and aside from the excitement of moving on, the goodbye's totally suck, because of a hidden love between teachers and students, and the hope that the student will continue on even though they move.

On the other hand, such transitions are inevitable in life and should be understood and accepted by teachers. I've moved many times and changed teachers and arts, and though I've chosen to do so everytime, it feels inevitable. This is my life, and I am just the person who can't sit still in his 20's. Though I've moved around, I feel as though I've been cultivating the same internal practice, be it karate, tai chi chuan, ba gua, aikido, kyudo, iaido. I am continuing self cultivation by using the body, working towards some invisible goal with kindred spirits. I feel as though I am doing honor to the teachers of my past, though I may not continue their art. There is a practical aspect of passing on an art where such movement doesn't help, but for that overall picture, I think a student and teacher should trust that this journey will not end, and blessings should be given instead of dark judgements. Like, "Great. What a waste of time. He doesn't respect the art and will lose all he's gained." But then again, if a teacher feels that way, they're probably not a very good teacher.

Back to the specifics, I think this is something my iai teacher is really thinking about with me. He knows about my past trainings and movements and must think that this will be no exception and I may just leave in a couple years. If such is the case, why would he teach me? It is a service of sorts I pay money for, and I'm not a bad student, so I don't think he'll just refuse to teach me. But assuming I do just leave after a couple years and not continue iaido, this isn't desirable for the teacher.

The issue is, I don't even know what I'm going to do. Who knows how long I'll be here. At least a couple years. A lot of years? Forever? Nobody really knows the answers to these kinds of questions.

As much of a hassle it may be for a teacher to lose a student, it is also undesirable for me to invest so much time and money and effort into an art that I will just forget.

So this is life. The teacher and student come together and have an experience in that very moment. It's not just for the future, it's not for physical gain, it is an experience of life. This is where we are now, and I know we are both doing our best. He's watching me giving me little bits here and there, and I am practicing like I'll be here forever.

We'll see how it goes.

Iaido Progress

Today I had my second practice with Yamada Sensei and it was invigorating. I was sure to get there early, and ready to see what was going to happen. When I went the door was locked and nobody was around, but I saw Sensei's car. Last week Sensei said I should go in myself and get ready before the lesson, but now it was impossible. Is this another test!? I mused wondering if sensei's trying to mess with my head in some extra training. But he came out of the nieghboring house, and showed me the key hanging just outside the door. So I went in, got ready, the other student came, and we started practice. Time disappeared as I focused on the immediate.  At one point I thought about looking at the clock, but decided against it. It ruins everything, and by not looking I think I build a habit of not caring. I had nowhere else to be that day, I was consumed with iaido at the moment. There's no need for clocks in this time.

Yamada Sensei is a great teacher. We start by practicing swinging the sword straight up and down, the most basic of techniques, move to something else, then go back, and I'm way better all of a sudden. He shows us the basic movement in so many different ways, training the little details of the single movement in various movements so each time we build and build these little bricks to make a big swinging sword castle. We move to something else, and come back and I'm way better again. In the end all we're doing is swinging a sword, but when you look closely, there's a lot more details than you noticed a first. I feel like I'm making a lot of progress with this practice.

Here's some of the details we worked on and things that come to mind now.

Changing tenouchi, position of the hand holding the sword. Sensei showed us that we change the tenouchi in iaido sometimes when we went to quickly swing the sword in the opposite direction it ust came. He said that when we change the grip with the jo (short staff) you change the jo within your hand because it's round and the same no matter how you hold it, so you can switch it easy in your hand. But the sword isn't round, so you change your hand around the handle of the sword.

I realized my worst habits are not keeping my back straight and bouncing when I swing. It's also not raising the blade in front of me from the tip. Then there's also squaring my shoulders straight when I'm facing forward (maybe a habit left from aikido where you're also in the hanmi position and never facing forward with square hips).

The two biggest things helping my technique are cutting with the back hand while the front guides the sword. Also stretching my self, arms, and blade at the furthest point of impact, extending completely. When I relax my front arm, extend fully, and snap with the back hand, it feels good and I can hear the swish of the blade through the air, which is a good sign.

This is one of the interesting parts of iaido, and perhaps where one can learn from the sword itself.

Sensei said we learn aikido using the 5 senses. We watch a teacher, we feel the weight of the blade, we listen to the sound of the  blade, smelling ... not sure about that one yet ... taste ... I'm not sure I want to taste the blade, but for some reason I can imagine learning iaido by taste ... I'll have to work on that in my head, though.

One other interesting point we worked on was the sensitivity of our hands on the sword. If we stand with another person and touch blades, we can sense so easily the slightest little bit of movement with the nerves in our hands. An amazingly small amount of movement or pressure is so clearly felt. I remember going over this in aikido, like when someone grabs our wrist, they can feel you react by flexing or moving our hand, so you work to move in ways that people can't detect what you're going to do. I forgot how sensitive we are to this without even noticing.

So yes, progress with the sword! Things are moving slowly and well. I think I'm building a good schedule between iaido and kyudo ... and everything else in life! I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but it feels good today.

Meeting the Head Iai Sensei

(Cool pic found at http://wallpoper.com/wallpaper/samurai-347997)

So iaido is going well and slow. I meet on Friday mornings to practice with Yamamoto Sensei and one other student and practice on my own time in my apartment (trying my best not to slice up the walls and ceilings.)

But last Snday afternoon I got a call from Yamada Sensei, the head sensei of the dojo. I was surprised to get the call and picked up immediately. He asked if I had time to meet the next morning for training. I was caught off guard but accepted and told him I'd be there at any time in the morning or early afternoon. This is what I'm here in Japan for anyway, right?

So I showed up about 15 minutes early for our 10:30 training, earlier than I usually do. The dojo door was slightly ajar. I went in and said my morning greeting, but nobody was there. Maybe somebody was in the bathroom? I heard nothing for a few minutes, so I assumed I was alone. I thought about getting changed and ready, but then I decided against it. In Japan, and as a student, it seemed best to do nothing until I was specifically told to do something. But then maybe one plays into the stupid student role where the teacher comes in and gets mad at you for not getting changed, but if you got changed the teacher asks you why you took the liberty of getting changed without knowing if that's what you should do. Or maybe that thought is just silly. Regardless, I decided not to get changed.

So I walked around the inside of the dojo looking at the scrolls and weapons on the wall waiting for something to happen. After about 5 minutes nobody came and I felt a little weird just standing in the dojo alone, so I decided to wait outside next to my bike. About 3 minues later Yamada Sensei came around the corner fully dressed and said good morning. We went into the dojo. He told me to go ahead and get changed so I did. When I got out we started talking about budo. He's a nice guy and was asking me the normal questions one would ask like, "Why did you want to start iaido?" This was normal, but he seemed much more inquisitive in a way. He was very silent while I talked, which made me a little nervous. I said that I have a great interest in budo, have practiced a few other arts, and since I found the dojo's website online and I've never done iaido before I wanted to give it a try.

We talked more and he mentioned another foreigner who trained with a partner dojo in Tokyo. He's an American and has been training for a while and is currently a 6 dan in iaido.

Then he asked me about reigi in the other arts I've practiced. Reigi is roughly translated as etiquette, and I thought he meant about formal bowing in and such, so I said that in aikido when you enter the mat you bow and then before beginning you bow one more time in the seiza sitting position. I think he was more concerned about timing. Specifically, I think he was trying to get to the point that in this dojo if the sensei says 10:30, then the student comes with enough time to get dressed, sweep the dojo, and get stretched so that practice can begin at the agreed upon time. At that moment is was about 10:43, and the point was made, those thirteen minutes should be spent training, any getting ready and chit chatting should be done before. He was very polite and matter of fact about it, but I laughed a little inside,

"This guy might be more strict than other teachers I've had before."

But that's good. Part of trying new budo is seeing the way other people do things, and I will do everything to adapt to this new environment. I'm happy he told me this straight up because I've actually been a little weary about the reigi of this dojo. The other teacher Yamamoto Sensei is much more informal, and when I was initially told to come at 10:30 the first day, I did and got changed and we usually just start when we do. Now I know, and if I go to another iaido dojo I'll do the same.

A little later on, the other woman who I usually train with showed up (she agreed to come at 11:00), but it was more like 11:04 and the sensei mentioned that she was late. I could see the look on her face which was the same as mine when he told me.

We got started and we did a lot of the same things we have done with Yamamoto Sensei. I think largely Yamada Sensei was gauging these two new students and making sure that we were clear on a lot of the basics. First he asked me to explain what I was doing when I swung the sword, which wasn't easy, but I did so and he reminded me of things I forgot to mention. He spent most of the time repolishing a lot of the things we had learned. It was great and made me much more attentive of the little details. He's the kind of teacher that will naturally make you a lot more conscious of doing the little details right when he's around.

Here are a lot of the specific details we went over in the class:

-Don't move the body up and down when you swing.

-Slice with the tip of the sword, the landing spot being an opponents face, and from there pull back to your stomach.

-10 back, 8 forward. This is with swinging the sword. Raising the sword to the ready position is arguably the most important, because if you're not there, you can't swing it down, so there is an emphasis getting to that ready position, which makes it a bit fast than the downward slice. Also, it puts a good tension in the movement, spreading the chest and elbows out.

-When raising the sword above your head with the previous points, act as though you're stabbing something behind you.

-The power of the cut comes from your rear hand, the forward hand is largely for guiding the blade, and so tension should be taken out of that front hand on the sword.

-When stepping forward, you step (pat-pat) instead of sliding the feet. Also, when stepping forward, the blade slices before the feet, because that is where speed is most important.

- Also practice in the left stance.

-Keep mouth slightly open to relax, act as though you have a small egg you don't want to crack in your mouth.

-Breath in as you raise the blade, out as you swing down. Hide the breath so that an opponent can't read your intentions and movements.


He's a very nice man, and seems proficient in his art, but honestly I really can't tell well what it means to be a great iaidoka yet. I enjoy his crisp and strict attitude and greatly look forward to training with him again. I'll go to the next normal Friday training with Yamamoto Sensei, but then he asked us students to come again on Sunday.

Anytime I hear the word "Sunday" come from a teacher is a small time of panic for me. I keep myself busy through the week, and Saturday is usually no different with work, errands, budo, or planned events, so Sunday really is my sacred day. I never really worried about this so much until I came to Japan, the number one offender of countries not respecting Sunday freedom. Generally, everyone in this country works hard at jobs or school throughout the week, and so when special group events happen (as they often do with work, school, extra curricular activities) it happens on Sunday. I think when Japanese do relax, they are really good at doing absolutley nothing or drinking a lot, because they usually do have to do something on their days off. Anyway, I cringed at the sound of Sunday training, but then again, this is what I came here to do anyway, so I agreed happily, if not a bit hesitant. The wife and I are strapped for cash after making the recent moves and perhaps this Sunday training will keep me from extra spending. No matter how awesome the budo, I don't think I could ever consistently give away the Sunday.

But then who knows.

The path of the sword continues!

Don't Rush the Blade

(picture found at http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:%E8%8B%B1%E4%BF%A1%E6%B5%81%E5%9C%9F%E4%BD%90%E5%A4%A7%E7%94%B0%E6%B4%BE%E7%B4%8D%E5%88%80.jpg)

In iaido there are two big things I'm working on, that basically rely upon the same principle: getting out of the way of the sword to let it cut efficiently.

In iaido we rely upon straight lines and non resistance in order to make the most efficient cuts. The sword needs our bodies to manipulate it and execute its purpose, but we must not use superfluous movements and efforts that inhibit the swords function to slice.

So there are two things I'm working on:

1. Drawing the blade. When you draw the blade it is best to draw it along a straight line through the scabbard. When you do, it is effortless and silent. When you don't, you are using extra muscles and effort which will limit the following strike by making it waver. You can tell when someone does this by the sound that the blade makes coming out of the scabbard. If it makes a rough rickety sounds, it means you're banging the blade against the inside of the scabbard in the draw, which means you're putting unecessary strength into a movement that is not straight.

Our teacher has told us this from the start, and I've been conscious of it, however I get caught up in the moment and rush through the draw, which ruins everything. Rushing will do nothing but tense your muscles and make a loud rickety draw. Who cares if you're slow, if you don't do it right, you're not doing anything at all. I'm not practicing very slowly and quietly in my apartment, letting the sound of the blade teach me how to draw it.

2. Swinging the blade. When you raise the sword above your head and then swing down to slash, just like while drawing the sword, one must eliminate extra effort to let the sword fall upon the perfect straight lines of gravity. Our hands and bodies and souls handle and direct the sword, but we do not do the cutting, the sword does. Our teacher tells us to let the blade fall by itself with gravity. In doing this we do not insert unecessary effort.

When sensei swings his swords there is a loud slashing sound reflective of his skilled technique. When us lowly green horn whitebelts swing our swords, there is nothing but the tension in our shoulders and anguish on our faces. In trying to create that sound I naturally try to make that sound by using effort, muscle, and speed, but it won't work. The more I put myself into the sword, the farther I get away from that effortless echoing sound. I need to accept and trust that the sword will do it's job perfectly if I just relax and do only the movements I need to do.

Isn't the same in everything else we do in life?

Cleaning is a practice with a lot of parallels to budo. I like to clean, but I can't stand only cleaning one part of my apartment. I also like drinking lots of coffee and trying to clean in a short amount of time, which means I spend a lot of effort on this task without much of anything getting cleaned at all. Instead of trying to do everything at once in one full sweep, while doing everything else as well, if I can just relax and do clean one room right, that room will be clean and I will be happy ... accepting that maybe I can't clean my whole apartment in the time I've alotted.

Maybe I can accept that I can't do iaido perfect on my first try.

...

What we are training in budo is patience and an inquiring intelligence. We are learning to let things move according to their own ideal time. We are learning to let go of our great tragedy of effort. We are learning to be beautiful. We are learning to be effective.

Perhaps one of the greatest treasures in that great dark deep sea abyss is relaxing and slowing down. It is the key to happiness and relieving stress. Perhaps it is also the key to standing victorious amid violent encounters.

Maybe it's the key to understanding the Great Imminent Failure: Death.

Cool Tokyo Blog "LOL Sushi" & No-Thoughts on the Sword

Check out another cool blog based in Tokyo at lolsushi.blogspot.com !

It's got a lot of cool stuff about Japanese entertainment, and I guarantee it will be new info for anybody who's not connected to the right scenes in Tokyo ... including me! Hiding away in various inakas (country-sides) of Japan, I look forward to reconnecting myself with another world outside through this site.

My favorite part of the site are the videos with ... Timebomb Nick!!!

Maybe you don't know Nick, but we actually studied Japanese together at university in San Francisco, and he's a super cool guy living in Tokyo.

On the site you can find a lot of funny videos with Nick in Tokyo, or you can just go to the youtube channel at http://www.youtube.com/user/tokyogamerzed . Some games are about finding strange things in Tokyo and others about video games.

SO CHECK IT OUT!

...

And now ... the sword ...

PISHAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!

That's the sound effect I use with the sword. I learned it from my aikido sensei who liked to make us laugh mid-way through wazas.

As I mentioned in previous posts, iaido is this brand new practice I'm working on and it's utterly fun and exciting in every aspect. In the last post I even wondered:

Can we have a practice that is only fun, allowing us to climb straight up the mountain without falling into depressing valleys of failure?

I'm not sure yet, because I just started, but I've already discovered one pitfall that may send us down to hell in our budo practice:

Overthinking/planning/scheduling/worrying/manipuilating

Until now I've been begging to get a sword so that I could practice on my own. This is hard to do with aikido because you need partners, and kyudo because you need the bow, space, and target ... but with iaido finally I have something I can practice and explore alone. (Though I'm sure doing too much without supervision will be cause for trouble ... but I don't know! I'm going to find out, and wonder how that aspect of iaido will play out ... surely it'll come up in future posts).

So I got the sword, and then I began to think ...

OH NO!

I began thinking about when I'm going to practice, and how I can do it for a long time everyday. That thought in and of itself isn't bad, in fact it's good and necessary ... but somewhere along the way I began making a schedule in my head. "OK, so I'll practice every morning so that I can do it everyday and get it over with before other things get in the way." That's a good idea, but I already have a morning routine that feels full with sitting for 20 minutes, followed by a shower and making breakfast, and then 30 minutes of kanji practice while drinking coffee. It's working out perfect, but I think adding anything else may disrupt the harmony I've cultivated.

What do I do?

(Starting to think ... OK, that's not a bad thing.)

Take out the sitting? No, I can't do that, I need that. I can't take out the kanji.

(I start becoming inflexible, and evaluating the "value" of my practices.)

Should I wake up earlier?

(Iaido practice is no longer fun, but a task to schedule in.)

Should I just forget it and practice throughout the day when I have time?

(Not directly dealing with my desire to practice, leaving it to be decided by the outside world instead of myself.)

Dammit I'll never get a solo routine with iaido, so I'll never get good! This is all a waste of time!

(And I'm tumbling down the mountain.)

So ... there's a lot of things going on around here, but I'll just lightly handle it with the mind I've had that's gotten excited about iaido in the first place.

Basically:

1.) Iaido is something I've fantasized about for a long time. I remember in my early karate days, weapons were also a part of training. There were many different weapons my sensei worked on, and for beginners he usually had us work with escrima sticks, and then learn bo forms. That is where I was at, but I remember a couple advanced students working on the sword, and I was utterly captivated. My teacher had practice swords on the wall, and an atmosphere about himself and the dojo itself that just filled me with curiousity about the sword. With that dojo I never got to the sword (I still remember and love practicing some of the escrima stuff but don't remember anything about the bo form I learned) and have gone through my martial arts experience without any time with the Japanese sword. (Though I did learn a tai chi saber form I still remember and practice often.) Perhaps I'm so intrigued by the Japanese sword because I've had to wait 10 years to finally begin its practice. I think it's just bad-ass anyway.

I already have a great love and admiration for the sword, I'm not about to sour it with over thinking.

2.) I may never be that good anyway.

This is a huge thing to get over. When I sit down and rationalize about it all, it makes sense and I can continue practicing for the fun and self-development, but somewhere along the way my egotistical and competitive nature kick in. All of a sudden, I'm training to become the greatest practitioner in the land, absolute number one, seeking fame and riches. Everything about the practice revolves about becoming a revered master one day, and then my practice is something that lives in a fantasy world decades in the future, leaving this moment empty and tormented.

Perhaps this is how some people feel about going to heaven.

Anyway, it's ridiculous to think this way because honestly, there are people who have been practicing these arts for way longer, practice way more, and live in an environment that focuses on their training much more. Now for me, I'm a 28 year old American beginning iaido and going to practice once a week. This is on top of a life that is full in many other aspects. There's no way I'm going to be the greatest swordsman anyway ... and besides, who says I really want to anyway? I mean I wouldn't not want to, but at the cost of other things in my life, I think I'll pass.

So, I'll never be that good anyway, I might as well have fun, forget about the future, and just live my practice. Whatever comes will follow on its own.

This is the major trap I've fallen into with kyudo. I'm learning to rediscover a mind that existed before the ambition and competition.

...

So, at this point I don't know exactly how and when my solo iaido practice will work out, but I do know for a fact I'm not going to let it bother me.

I'm just going to let happiness be happiness, and that is beautiful.

That is getting out of the way of the technique so that all the aspects of the world and situation can work together. It's relaxing the unecessary muscles, making minimal movements, and making those movements with a subtle grace that allows the big picture with all its little details flow ... like a stream in the woods.

(Beautiful painting found at http://brush-paper-water.blogspot.jp/2011_01_01_archive.html)

...

And as of today I'm off for Toyama!

Yes, back to my original Japanese home north in the great mountains, I'm headed to Kokura (Kitakyushu City) where I'll take the midnight bus (holy hell, everytime I take a midnight bus I swear I'll never do it again, and yet here I go) for 9 hours to Osaka, and transfer to another taking 6 hours to Toyama at 3pm tomorrow. I will stay with my wife's family relaxing and meeting a new family member (her sister's new baby!), drink some beers with old friends, then grab the wife and head back down here to Nakatsu in Kyushu where we can properly begin our new life. On the way back we plan to drive to Osaka, and then take a ferry to Beppu in Oita Prefecture. Japanese ferries are always quite an experience, so maybe I can post something about that with some pictures when I get back.

So yeah, I'll be off the radar for a week, but during that time you can check out LOL Sushi and Tokyogamerz, and think of iaido books to recommend to me.

Happy Holidays from Gaijinexplorer in southern Japan!

My New Sword

I got a fricken sword!

And I'm super happy about it.

Because it's very cool, I'm learning how to use it, and now I can practice anytime I want.

But I'll need to get some kind of shoulder strap. Walking around Japan with a sword is definitely illegal. I can keep it in the bag shown in the first picture, but I need some kind of strap to hang it around my shoulder when I ride my bike to the dojo. That will make it comfortable and look less like a sword. Today after I left the dojo with the sword I wanted to get straight home with it, but unfortunately I had a lot of things to do on the way: get lunch, go to city hall, and go grocery shopping. The whole time I was trying to hold it in a way that made it not look like a sword, but I probably just brought more attention to myself. I wonder if anyone noticed.

So how did I acquire this fancy piece of equipment? From Sensei ... for a price of course: about $300. The dojo has had it for a while but nobody has been using it, so it worked out perfectly. I really don't know anything about sword quality, but I trust my sensei has endowed me with a sufficient blade.

I was worried about when I was going to get one because when I initially asked sensei where I could buy a sword he said the internet would be the easiest way (not many swordsmiths in the area). After that though, I ran into the other sensei (who I think is the head of the dojo) and he said he would see if there's anything he could find. I guess this was it. I had a feeling they might have something for me, so I brought the cash, and it all worked out perfect.

Now I have my own sword! I'm very excited about this.

And the practice as well.

Today was my second day and the time just flew by. An hour and a half just disappeared as I focused on working the movements of the sword with sensei and the other student. We start class by practicing swinging with a bokken and then after a few minutes go to the real blade. We start by swinging straight up and down from a neutral stance facing forward. Then we start swinging with a step. Today he showed us about diagonal cuts. Then we move into drawing the sword and going through the motions which must be the first kata or waza or something. From a standing position you draw, make a horizontal cut, then step forward with a vertical strike, then step back and sheathe the blade. After that we practiced the traditional bowing out with the sword, which may take me a couple practices to get. Then he showed us how to tie the knot of our string on the sword, which I'm fighting against just completely giving up. I don't know what it is about my brain, but I have serious issues with knots. I used to work in the tree service and making knots was a big part of the job, but one I could never get down. I guess this is my chance to get it right. That's what budo is about. None of us are going to get it right immediately, but all of us can learn.

So yeah, practice is super exciting and I'm really enjoying the teacher and other student, especially now that I have my own sword. Any good budo practice will have ups and downs, easy parts and hard parts ... but right now it's all effortless smiling fun. I'm interested to see how it goes.

Do we really need to struggle with our art? I mean, what's so bad about it being fun? Is it possible for one to practice a budo by simply floating straight up the mountain without falling into the valleys? That's an interesting thought, I'll give it a try.

I'm going to go over a few details of what we learned. I hope to do this after every practice so that I can process what I've learned, teach you about what I'm doing, and maybe hear back from you guys if you do it a different way. These things are learned on the second day and probably going to seem very simple, but that's because it's just the beginning. I'm sure there are lots of ways to do the same thing, and better ways as well, but this is where I am.

1.) When swinging the sword you need to loosen and flick your wrist for two reasons.

First, it's to relax your body and use forces other than just your muscle strength, making the strike more effective.

Second, it's so that your blade can reach the target as quickly as possible. If you're swinging so that your hands arrive before the sword, you're too slow and will get cut by the opponent. One must swing so that the tip of the blade reaches the target as quickly as possible. This was new info to me.

2.) You only need to cut with the end of the blade enough to slice, and when you do, you draw/pull the blade across the surface ... this is opposed to hacking through something. I was aware of this from the aikido sword work, but it's a super important thing to know.

3.) There's only one angle you cut at when it's not vertical or horizontal. All cuts, be it to the head, shoulder, waist, arm, leg ... they all follow one single line, so becoming familiar with that line is super important. We practiced doing this cut by aiming at an invisible opponents head and going diagonally through it, both from the left and the right.

4.) All cuts with the sword follow straight lines. Any deviations will reduce its effect.

5.) When sheathing and unsheathing the blade, you need to do so so that the blade does not cut the inside of the saya (sheath). So, this means that when we draw the sword, we hold it so the sharp edge faces up, so the bottom dull side slides across the bottom of the saya, and the blade doesn't touch anything at all. When you unsheath the blade, you are sliding the dull side of the blade across the inside of the saya (putting no strength into the movement) and you draw until there's only a couple inches of the tip inside of the sheath. At that point, you pull the sheath back and swing the sword which is practically already drawn.

It's hard to see in the picture below, but the blade is facing up, with the dull side on the bottom completely resting on the saya, this is how it should be when you draw.

 

This was big for me because I thought that you drew the sword straight into a swing. Perhaps that's what it's like for the masters, but if I try that I would completely cut up the inside of the saya and have a weak swing. What we are really doing is drawing the sword out of the saya, and then cutting.

...

There are certainly a lot of other things going on, but these are the main points I'm focusing on right now.

Sensei is really funny. He's a very cheerful big smiling chit chatty kind of guy when you first walk in the dojo, but you can also see him switch into his serious budo mode. When he teaches us, he acts very much like a teacher, treating us as equals, explaining things, and helping us to achieve results, and sometimes making jokes to lighten the atmosphere. I can't tell how good he is at iaido, but I can tell he's a great teacher. We flowed continuously through the entire practice though it was made up of many different parts. Part way through I thought, "Wow, he transitioned through that perfectly!" I wish I could do that in my English classes.

It's funny when I think of my other senseis in aikido and kyudo ... and they're all very different.

 I think my aikido sensei was the least teacher-like. 90% of our practice was physically doing the technique, and that's mainly how he taught us. He taught by doing, and for aikido I suppose that is most important. Certainly he would explain things the best he could, and tell us when we did something wrong, but a lot of times he would tell people they were doing something wrong but couldn't quite tell them how to do it right. Perhaps that's just part of aikido. But I also know he wasn't the most "teacher-like" of teachers.

My kyudo sensei in Toyama was an excellent teacher, but different than my iaido one now. He was a bit more authoritative/strict, like he would tell us to fix something, we'd do it wrong, and he wouldn't be satisfied until we did it right. But of course he try different methods to explain these things to us. But in kyudo you're essentially doing the movements all on your own, and doing things that viewers can't see easily, so it makes for a difficult time learning sometimes, I think.

Wow, it's strange to look back on it all ...

Anyway, time to get swinging!

My First Iaido Practice

What a very special day in my budo life. After this much time on the earth, I've come to really appreciate beginnings, "first days", and such. Our life is sprinkled with them sparingly here and there. Any day we begin a new training, or anything at all I imagine, it's the first last and only time that will ever happen. I will appreciate this first day and the great changes that will grow from it.

I feel like a puppy that just learned a new trick. Man, it's been a long time since I started something new like this. So fresh. I am the unmolded clay, and today were the first imprints. When starting something where so many movements are unknown, so much honest concentration is used, nothing but focusing on what your teacher just told you and trying to put all of those pieces together before he comes back again. It's been a long time since I've been in this place.

And MAN do I reek of newbie green wood. :)

So, last week I went to watch a class. After that, he said come back next Friday to fill out paper work, and maybe I can do a little training ... a little he said while smiling. Well, I brought my aikido dogi (training outfit) and hakama (black traditional Japanese warrior skirt [ha, I like that description]) first to see if it would work to train in, and then to actually use in it in case it was alright to start swinging weapons around. Maybe he would have me watch again, or maybe he would have me train. In case of the latter, I was damn well going to be ready.

So I got up and went through my morning routine. Saddled the bike, and began the thirty minute ride to the dojo. It rained all night, but had stopped just before I left, lucky me. I cruised at a medium high speed and it felt great. Then my bike slipped on a metal grate and had a little mini crash falling over and scraping my hands. Luckily I was right in front of a conbini and there weren't more than a handful of people in cars to see my embarrassing folly, so I went in, cleaned up, and continued on. I got to the dojo a few minutes early and Sensei walked out just as I pulled up.

"Ohayou gozaimasu!"

"Oh, ohayou gozaimasu!"

We both had big morning budo smiles.

I went in, we chatted for literally a minute and then he asked me if I brought my dogi.

"Yes, I did" :)

He said go ahead and get changed.

SEE! One must always be prepared to pick up the stick and swing.

I was really glad he asked me to get changed, of course because that meant I was going to train, but also because I was worried about my random pieces of a uniform working out. I have my aikido dogi, but I wasn't sure if it was different than the dogi they usually train in. It's a different company, and a little different, but as far as I know, a dogi is a dogi and it's good to go. What I was really curious about was the hakama. I have a hakama for kyudo, and I'm all good and used to it, but it always looked a lot different than what non kyudo people used. When watching my aikido partners put their's on, for some reason it looked so different. But I began to put mine on while sensei watched, and he said that it's all good. There's just one difference in the last bit when you tie it. I have to say, I felt super awkward at first, half kyudo, half aikido, starting iaido. But after I started swinging the sword I forgot about it all, and I now stand as this strange amalgamation starting a new journey in iaido. My super hero outfit is good to go.

He said at first we'll start with iaido, and after a while if things are working out I can begin the jo.

That's perfectly fine with me. This time, slow and steady is OK. Let's start with iaido and move from there. OK OK OK.

During this time there is another woman student who apparently just started about a month ago. She's in the same boat and hasn't started the jo yet either. It looks perfect. We can begin together in iaido and continue to wherever we go. It seems as though my Friday mornings from now on will be like this: Sensei, the other woman, and I.

We started training, and the teacher spent his time between the two of us. He gave me a bokken and showed me how to swing it in the mugai-ryu iaido fashion, then told me to do it a bunch while he taught the woman. He came back in a few minutes and showed me how to swing it while stepping. Then he'd go back to the woman and come back a few minutes later to show me what I was doing wrong, then go back. Then he came back, showed me how to unsheath and sheath the wooden sword, then went back. Next time, he gave me a real sword and told me to practice. WOW THIS IS COOL! I thought, and dangerous, so I was super careful and slow at first. But after a few times you get used to it and I ended up leaving the dojo without losing my fingers or killing anybody, so I'd say it went well.

But wow, this is all new.

And I totally suck at something again.

Perhaps it's not quite that. You can't really suck at something if you've never done it before. You can only suck at something if you've already had experience in it.

A more accurate sentence might be: I suck at kyudo.

This iaido, is just completely foreign ground, like arriving on Jupiter for the first time.

And oh how much I love it. I couldn't slice the broadside of a drunken samurai if I tried. Everything is weird and wrong and awkward. I couldn't help but laugh at myself looking the mirror, concentrating so hard on doing a simple movement and being so wrong. How many times have I been here before in all of the other arts I've tried? How many times have I been just a stupid white belt, and here I am again. It's a thrilling feeling, and I understand that this is what it's about. It's about starting something completely new in a world where you know nothing, and making the steps of progression which require nothing other than simple time, effort, and instruction. This is how it goes, and nobody just walks in moving like a master.

But, it is different this time, and my past experience does have a great effect on this new beginning.

"How so?" you ask?

WELL!

I think a lot of learning a new martial art, and being good at one, includes two major things:

First, is fitting the shape. This is about putting your body in the places it needs to be in order to do what you're trying to do. We attempt this at first, and maybe we get the general points, but our bodies expend a large amount of effort in doing so, and often find ourselves off-balance and tense.

Next is relaxing. Can you fit the shape while not expending extra effort? Can you move through those shapes and keep your balance?

I think once you achieve these two goals of fitting the shape and relaxing you can start moving on to more intermediate techniques ... but for now ... in the beginning ... it's all about these two points.

So for me, my budo experience makes this a bit easier or faster. When I first begin, I'm just as fumbly as the next beginner, but when I look at my teacher and listen to his voice, I'm picking out specific points I know he is trying to emphasize. I focus all of my attention on what he is trying to get me to do, and I'm mimicking him as closely as possible. My eyes and ears are soft, picking up everything without expending extra energy on the uneccessaries. There is nothing but focusing on the task at hand, but also everything else in the periphery at the same time. This is fitting the shape. Next is relaxing. Of course I'm finding myself off-balance and tense at times, but I can feel that my recognition of this is much faster than it used to be and I can immediately relax the muscles. So it's not perfect, but it's fast. Also, I suppose there is a sort of obeying straight lines and circles in budo as well. Behind all of the movements are shapes and circles, and aligning your body and movements with them is what a lot of budo is about. For example when you cut horizontally with the blade you make a large arc. Once the teacher tells me this, I make connections to the wide arcs used in aikido and it helps me. Also, when sheathing the blade, one must make the blade and the saya (sheath) a straight line, and sheath the blade along the line. In kyudo there are a lot of movements where you must keep that straight line while holding the bow or arrow, and so that feels familiar as well.

But along with that positive experience, are also old habits which can disrupt the new technique. There were two big ones that I noticed, and will have to be careful to watch out for.

First is the position of the hips when swinging the sword down. In Aikido we practiced with a bokken (wooden sword) which is dangerously similar. I say dangerously similar because they are basically the same weapon, but are used differently. In aikido when we swing the sword down, we start and end in the hanmi position (belly button facing a forty-five degree angle from the front instead facing straight ahead) and cut at a slight angle. In iaido (at least with this first introductory strike), we have the hips facing forward the whole time, and so the blade follows a straight vertical line. Now matter what I do, my hips naturally rotate changing it all, which will be something I need to be mindful of when practicing iaido.

In connection with that, when bringing the sword over your head, in Aikido we would let the sword flip down our backs before swinging again. I suppose this practices relaxing your body and flowing instead of inserting strength, and so I got used to it. But in Iaido, this definitely won't fly, and when bringing the sword over your head, you definitely don't go past parallel with the ground. Interestingly enough, this was a big problem I had with aikido at first. I didn't understand why you let the sword move so far back, and I thought it was incredibly unpractical. I suppose that is because the purpose of the aikido sword is to help empty hand techniques and relaxing, whereas the purpose of iaido sword is to ... best cut something (?).

Wow ... what is the purpose of iaido!? I don't know ... but you can bet I'll be writing about what it might mean.

OK, so next big difference is in stepping/walking. He had me practice swinging the sword while taking steps forward. This is like sliding forward, permanently staying in a right (or left) fighting stance, but you're really stepping forward. It's like a step-drag movement in karate. Actually that is exactly what I thought of when going through this. Also, I was naturally stepping like I do in kyudo, where your feet don't leave the ground. In kyudo you slide your feet across the floor as you walk, maintaining your connection with the ground. However, in Iaido, he said we must step forward and bring the back foot forward by stepping, not sliding. He said we must step forward keeping our weight above our center of gravity. He demonstrated this by holding a stick straight up and down to represent his body weight. If you connect the bottom of that stick to your foot, and step forward with that foot while keeping your body weight on your back foot, the stick goes diagonal, which is not what we want. Instead, we keep our body weight above our front foot, so that when we step with that foot, our body weight is above it, keeping the stick vertically straight. This is so we can keep our balance and have a stable structure once we make that step. That all clicked with me well, and I was impressed with how clearly the sensei was able to convey this point. The part that is difficult for me is not dragging that back foot. No matter what, my instincts tell me to let it drag, but I'll have to work on picking it up slightly when stepping.

I left full of new things to practice on my own, and next time I'll come back ready for more, with a pocket full of cash and the required paperwork. Just as I thought in the last week, I didn't know how much this training was going to cost, but I knew it was going to be more than what I had been used to with aikido and kyudo. It ends up being about $50 a month for iaido. When I decide to start jodo it will become $90. That is definitely more than I'm used to (kyudo $10 a month, aikido $30) ... but then again I'm also getting a teacher's almost full attention and beckoning when I'm with him. This is different from kyudo when you go in by yourself and receive instruction as a volunteer favor, or aikido when your renting dojo space and working with quite a few other people. I understand, I can pay, and there's no problem.

But it's hard not to think about money when it comes to budo ... but that will require another post.

I also need a sword. Before when I talked to Sensei I thought he said I could get one close by pretty quick, but today when I asked he said I should find one somehow or maybe get one on the internet (from a credible source of course). It's important to have a real sword in the early training in order to get used to the weight and feel, but on the other hand I don't know how long I'll continue this so dropping a lot of money on a sword right away isn't such a good idea ... mostly because I'll beat up the sword and scabbard a lot with my flailing technique in the first couple years. But I need one.

When I left the dojo, I met the main sensei who had just picked up someone from Tokyo who had come to train.

I'm not sure exactly what the situation is, and I'm running out of steam on this blog as you are too probably ... but I think the Sensei who is teaching me is the second in command, with the main Sensei teaching at other times with other people. But I met this Sensei by coincidence when I was leaving and we had a great little interaction. We made chit chat and he was super nice and funny ... more like a normal Japanese old man than the other guy. Basically he asked what sword I was using and said I was borrowing the other Sensei's. He said using another person's sword was not good. So I asked what I should do and that I was ready to get one as soon as possible. I saw the wheels turning in his head and imagine some kind of solution will appear next week when I go in.

This is how people stay young, by trying new things that they are really interested in. I feel like so many old channels of excitement have lit up in my imagination. All of a sudden I want to do a lot of dorky things I like to do like play zelda video games, Magic the Gathering card game, and read fantasy novels for some reason. I want to ride my bike into the forests. I want to create. I don't want to destroy myself, I don't want to forget, I don't want to run away.

Until I get the real blade, I thought about how I was going to practice all I was learning on my own. I have a whole week! At this point I can't go 15 minutes without running through the freshly learned material.

So, I bought my first sword,

for 158 yen at a children's toy store.

You do what you can with what you have.

Wish me luck.