Sports and Budo

Today after practice in Ikebukuro, an issue was brought up about people who see the organization's website and indicate their interest in iaido is sports related. While this might not seem like something that would be a problem, the sheer number of Japanese people who approach iaido from a sports background is staggering. On the other hand, just about every foreigner who comes to watch a class or joins is interested in the cultural aspects of the art and the appeal that comes with doing something esoteric. Why are so many Japanese people thinking that iaido is sports related? I think I know the answer.

After World War II, Japanese society was entirely in the hands of the US. Even today, these influences are clearly demonstrating their staying power in a country that has very little idea of how to care for itself. School lunches are still 1950's style (milk with every meal, even if milk doesn't go with Japanese food). Kids are encouraged to play western sports, and high school baseball has a larger fan base than traditional Sumo wrestling. Most public schools, required in the early twentieth century to teach Judo and Kendo, now only offer baseball and soccer for boys and volleyball and badminton for girls as after-school sports programs. The Kendo clubs at my junior high schools have about three or four students each and the teachers and staff pay zero attention to them. At least most kids know what Kendo and Judo are, but they have no idea how Kendo and Judo came to be. Since it's been sixty years since the end of the war, there are now three generations who know how to play baseball. How many people know anything about budo other than the fact that Kendo and Judo are "what the samurai used to do?"

Since Kendo and Judo are at least widely known and practiced, most people think that Kendo and Judo are budo. Kendo and Judo are based on budo, but are not budo themselves. They are sports, and that needs to be made clear. Most Japanese people think that iaido is very closely related to Kendo, which is not their fault since the All Japan Kendo Federation's umbrella organization includes several styles of iaido. Most true koryu (old) styles of iaido are independent of this organization, however, and do not even come close to fitting the definition of "sports," the key element of which is competition.

Why are sports like Judo and Kendo different? Simple. The practitioners train for competition, not simply to improve themselves. Comparing your training to someone else's training is meaningless, which is exactly what competition encourages. Competition in confrontational, and the true heart of budo should be harmony with others. (PS: Yes, I am saying that competition incourages hostility, especially in contact sports.) While some people in the sports-budo community are able to strike a balance between the two (self-development and competition, learning from loss, etc.), most people lack the ability to do so, the reason being exposure to western sports like soccer and baseball at an early age. Thus, the sports/budo connetion is made.

Coming back to my original point, why is this such a big deal for our organization? This conversation came up after practice because of an incident we witnessed this afternoon at the Toshima Sports Complex. A group of college Judo kids and their sensei had rented the budo dojo after us and were waiting for us to leave. We had the space until 3 o'clock and were rushing to get changed so that the Judo folks could start their tournament. We left at 2:50, politely greeted the Judo group and proceeded towards the elevators. When we got to the 9th floor lobby, we were shocked to see the head sensei berating two of the Sports Complex workers for making them wait in the lobby. "We want to START at 3, not get changed at 3! How dare you keep us waiting in the damn lobby!" The workers explained that many different groups from around the city rent that space, and our iaido group has that space almost every Saturday until 3. Obviously, if we're using the dojo, they can't be using the dojo. For some reason, this bit of logic didn't sink into the Judo sensei's head, so he kept screaming with his college kids standing behind him trying to look as menacing as possible.

Why doesn't this sort of thing happen in our style or other traditional styles of budo? Two reasons: We're not competitive, so we lack such sassy attitudes (most of us anyway), and if we were to act that way, the head of the style of strip us of rank and title and tell us how unfit we are to be practitioners of traditional budo. True practitioners of budo are completely encompassed by their training. They are their training. They take it a step further and allow their training to inundate their daily lives. Budo solidifies and harmonizes every aspect of a person's life (or can harmonize every aspect if the individual is mature enough, unlike me!), including how they interact with other people.

Gosoke always says, "If you can't be a positive, polite person, how can you be a budoka? You can't. It's impossible." Amen.

Taikei Weekend! Let the Debauchery Begin

The Bucho and I often comment on the International Division of Meishiha Mugai and how our American bros train harder, are more curious about the art, and make much more of an all around effort than the majority of the Japanese members. This weekend, they proved it. Fly Bri nailed the final round of the nidan division, and I managed to wipe out the fourth dan divsion only two months after my promotion. The third dan division was won by the son of one of Fujimura sensei's top students in Italy, so even though he wasn't one of our guys, at least he was a foreigner and oozed more cool than anyone else in the place! One of the sensei from one the of countryside dojos even went so far as to announce that he would be completely revamping his training curriculum at his dojo so that his people wouldn't lose again next year. I just love putting unnecessary pressure on people who think that winning in a tournament means something; anything at all.

The tournament has little meaning for me aside from getting the chance to spend the weekend with the International Division guys. We have so much fun just being loud obnoxious Americans that the Taikai ends up taking a back seat to the craziness. I've voiced my opinions on competition in budo many times, but basically, I approach my training like a religion. It's sacred to me in a very personal way. The fundamentals of any art should be common throughout the group of individuals practicing said art, but at some point individuality sets in, which allows the individual to make the art his own. This should not be mistaken for "Shu, Ha, Ri," which is indicative of the individual's contribution to the art, but should be understood to be a deeper, much more personal study that differs greatly from person to person. If we all train in this way, which I would hope everyone comes to realize at some point, then the introduction of competetion in budo would prove to be groundless. Winning or losing is decided by that age-old method: luck.

Anyway, the day started with the usual opening remarks from local officials and iai people, and then, without warning, the demos began. I thought I would have at least a few minutes to put on my knee pads, but no, I was called out pronto. I did the crudest, most God-awful demo in my entire life.... without knee pads. I then spent most of the morning judging for the unranked, kyu ranked, sho dan, and ni dan divisions. My back was killing me and my stomach was running on fumes by the time the fourth dan division was set to go. I had a few rice balls, which didn't help much, then blazed my way through the first three rounds of the fourth dan divsion. The finals lasted forever since all divisions were set to go on one court (as usual), and by the time it was my turn to go, I was so light headed that on my last kata I wavered and almost fell over!

Thanks to the Virginia Crew (who live close enough to my hometown to make me homesick whenever I see'em) and the Chicago boys for providing me with much needed American sarcasm and debauchery for the weekend. Without you guys, I would probably go ape-shit crazy on Taikai weekend. I love you guys!

Pics to come! (But check out the Bucho's blog ----> in the links section for Taikai party pics)

Showdown in Little America

The Bucho and I were invited to do a demo at the US Embassy compound this afternoon... but we had to show up before 9. How all this was planned so poorly, I have no idea. When I saw the lines to get in (the compound was open for the day to the general public for an early Fourth of July festival), I kind of realized why. We were subjected to security screenings when we came in at 8:45, of course, but nothing major. The Japanese nationals who elected to come and see a little piece of Americana after the gates were opened at 11 were put through the wringer. For a brief moment, I thought I was in the airport. Get the picture?

The US Embassy workers' compound is technically US soil, so everything is American. The road signs ("SLOW! Children playing") the lawns, and especially today, the BBQ, threw us both for a loop. I thought it was kind of cool, albeit weird as hell without going through jet lag first, to see this little USofA in the middle of Tokyo, but the bucho was seriously appalled. He was so turned off by the whole thing that getting the demo over with and going home was priority one... but not until after hitting every BBQ stand on the strip! Chicken, pork, gyros, the list goes on. I'm glad we waited until after the demo to eat, otherwise we would have had a hard time swinging.

The only down side to having a Fourth of July block party in the middle of Tokyo is the heat. Fluffy doesn't tan, he burns. I got home this afternoon in time to made Sugawara sensei's aikido class, but had trouble when my gi started to seriously grind off layers of much needed skin. If we get invited next year, screw the sword, I'm bringing sunscreen. Hopefully pics to come.

Ikebukuro

Last weekend was the gasshuku (roughly translated as "stay together," it's basically a nice way to say "intensive, we-kick-your-ass training camp.") in Okinawa, which, thankfully I didn't go on. In lieu of participating, I was asked to lead practice in Ikebukuro on Saturday morning as a sub for Sakaguchi san who is about to take Gyokufukai independent (to some extent).

Sakaguchi san was asked by Gosoke to start his own organization that would still be connected (to some extent) with Gosoke's organization while not still being considered "under" Gosoke's organization (to some extent). Yeah, I don't get it either. Sakaguchi san will more than likely take a core group of his closest students to help him get Gyokufukai off the ground, but everyone will still get their rank from Gosoke since he's the head of Meishiha Mugairyu. A lot of the top students of Niina Gosoke are starting their own "kai," but many of them have been ordered to do so and are reluctant to separate from Gosoke too much. Personally, I think it's pointless. There aren't any real changes taking place. Just a lot of fancy new names for groups that have already been meeting weekly for - in some cases - as long as five years. All of these new "kai" will be "under" Gosoke (to some extent) and different students from different "kai" will be free to move about from place to place for a small donation or mat fee of about 500 yen ($4). Gosoke's organization will actually be LOSING money since all members affiliated directly with Gosoke will be considered Hombu people and will have to pay an extra 2000 yen a month. Basically, if people leave his organization for a satellite "kai" with cheaper membership fees that means fewer members directly under Gosoke and therefore, less money. We all be stressin' out 'bout now.

Another reason why I'm glad that I didn't go to Okinawa would have to be the dan tests that were conducted there. I don't want to say too much on a blog that I know fellow iaido people read, so I'll say only this: If you train for only two and a half years, why do you think you even deserve to even THINK about testing for a shihan-eligible rank (6th dan)? Absolutely ridiculous. This is one reason why I've reconsidered becoming a jikimon (direct pupil who's "sworn allegence"). To promote inexperienced people whose budo isn't even in their bodies yet to such high ranks is an embarassment to the style. Do you really want someone with only a few years experience going independent, saying that they're your student, and teaching other people? Wow. That's all I have to say. I'm glad Gosoke failed everyone who tested above shodan.

Anyway, I decided to get up this morning to go back to Ikebukuro to train with Sakaguchi san since he needs a lot of support at the moment. I realized this afternoon that I had come and gone to and from Ikebukuro four times since yesterday. Once for work, then back to Shinjuku for aikido, then back to Ikebukuro for a teachers' party last night, then back home to Nikotama, then back to Ikebukuro this morning. I should have just stayed there!

How Not to Cut No-okuri

Not good for two reasons: I didn't get off the line until AFTER I had drawn. And: I completely decapitated the roll. No-okuri is supposed to be a slight cut to the neck, nicking the artery and causing death by massive blood loss over a short period of time. Well, either way he's dead.

剣禅一如

Sword and Zen are One.

This expression was used by Tsuji Gettan, the founder of mugairyu, to emphasize the importance of zen training in swordsmanship. Initially, all mugairyu practitioners were required to be active in the zen community in order to be permitted to train under Gettan. The zen aspect of mugai training is often overlooked nowadays, but there are a handful of people who still sit regularly. I started sitting a little over a year ago, and I now understand just what Gettan meant by "Sword and Zen are One." It just clicks.

Yesterday at Mugaido (see links), I spent a good hour with Sakaguchi weighing, adjusting and fidgeting with different tsuba to get the balance of my cutter to come back towards the tsuka. My cutter is on the tip-heavy side, which makes cutting on the draw a pain in the butt. I finally found a tsuba that brought 30 grams back towards my hands AND meshes neatly with Gettan's "Sword and Zen are One" philosophy. Check out the bald monk. Kewwwlll.

Nerf Bats, Video Cameras, and Swords: Swordsmanship for the Twenty-First Century

It makes me wonder how the heck they did it two hundred years ago.

Last night in Machida, I had a relatively productive night of cutting. In Mugai, I get free reign to cut any way I see fit. If I need to work on a specific technique, I can just start hacking away until I find what my body needs to get the sword moving through the target correctly. However, since I've only been doing Toyama-ryu for three weeks, I'm not allowed to cut anything but kesa. Kesa, kesa, then more kesa... All the while everyone else is getting to do weird, totally impractical waza like Nami Gaeshi. No matter. I joined the Machida dojo specifically because I wanted to slow down my sword training and let it ferment like fine wine. God I hate that cliche... but I used it anyway. Sensei also brought out his video camera and taped us during our last round of cutting. At least my posture doesn't suck.

After cutting, Sensei busted out the nerf baseball bats and thick foam headgear. He then proceeded to beat the snot out of me without warning. I thought he was just going to show me some hardcore technique, but he ran at me, dove to the floor, and started swinging away at my ankles instead. The only thought that went through my mind as I tumbled to the floor (cleanly... thank you aikido) was, "I wonder why he made me wear headgear?" His top student did the same thing but decided to go for my balls instead. Without nerf, I'd be sterile. Apparently it doesn't count unless you violently slap your opponent down, but I did manage to send a few tsukis to the faces of my various partners as they repeatedly dove for my feet and/or crotch. Free-for-alls might teach you about speed, timing, and ma-ai, but there's something about it that doesn't feel right. We spend all this time perfecting various techniques that we immediately discard in an actual combat situation. It's my mission to find that fine line and walk it. I lost every time, but I did come close to scoring on several occassions without breaking down my kamae or technique. One day at a time!

Ukemi as a Learning Tool ... Zazen Helps Too...

I've been reminded the hard way recently in Miyamoto sensei's classes that ukemi serves several purposes, not the least of which is a conduit for learning techniques directly through the body. It dawned on me tonight in the Bucho's iai keiko that one of the drawbacks to iai training is the lack of ukemi practice. The feeling doesn't get pounded into you (literally), and second guessing the techniques is common practice in sword. But I think I've found the first link between my aikido and iai training (aside from the obvious stuff like moving from the hips, extending out big, relaxing the upper body, etc). Cutting recently has been very similar to ukemi practice in terms of feeling, and to a certain extent I could feel it in my iai kata-geiko tonight too. Cutting yokoichi on Sunday felt almost entirely from my center. There was hardly any extraneous tension.

After the Bucho's class tonight, a friend of mine and I had a discussion about why ukemi is so important. The only way I could describe it to someone who had never done aikido was to say that ukemi teaches relaxation and acceptance. Acceptance is a critical part of budo training. The budoka accepts what his opponent is doing, then avoids it rather than trying to counter his opponent's movements with brute force. This is why the smaller, physically weaker person has a good chance to prevail in such encounters: they let the big guy make mistakes before finding just the right place and time to counter attack. The only way to learn this principle is to relax and develop a heightened sense of awareness. Ukemi practice provides both by injecting them into the body through direct contact with a practice partner. As time goes by, the same awareness extends beyond the physical bod - the actual physical connection between two people - and can be applied to armed combat. Effective bujutsu works because there's no resistance, no conflict. This can be an internal conflict just as it can be between two or more people. I found that in places I stopped struggling in my kata but still retained power in my sword training, which might mean my mind and body have signed a temporary cease-fire. My mind is accepting the fact that my body can do some of the techniques without a chaperon. At certain points in my practice tonight, I just moved without second guessing myself.

I think it's the recent shift in my posture when I sit zazen that changed the feeling in my body when I do sword. Extending my ukemi practice into my iai practice is the last thing I thought would happen, but after talking to my friend about ukemi practice tonight, I realized that the feeling is the same internally. My mind could let go and trust my body just like I try to let go and trust my partner. Zazen is more than likely the mysterious catalyst at work here. This development is still rather hit and miss, but at least I'm on the right track(?).

What the Hell...?

Perhaps it has something to do with my aikido practice taking up nearly half of my short life thus far, which, by comparison, is a lot longer than the time I've spent doing zazen or iai. Perhaps not. Perhaps it's just blind luck that one day I'm feeling really good about my training (be it aiki, iai, sitting on the toilet, whatever), but the next day I feel like I've been hit by a bus and want to never ever put on a keiko-gi again. Who knows. Maybe I should just stop trying so hard like the Bucho says, but nothing seems to click now in aikido, which is really ironic since it's usually nothing that clicks in my iai training.

The past week happened to be some kind of paradoxical coalescence of several major (in the grand scheme of things, minor) milestones in my budo training. First, my posture finally fell into place in zazen. That doesn't mean I can keep it, or that I don't adjust as my sitting sessions wear on, but it's become much easier for me to "just sit" and let my mind do all the struggling. It took a year, but I can finally really begin to sit for extended periods without thinking about the sharp stabbing sensations in my lower back.

In iai, I finally figured out how to cut yokoichi. It was effortless when I finally did it this morning. I joined Hataya sensei's dojo last weekend, and even though they only let me cut kesa when I train with them, when I have the opportunity to cut with mugai folks, I'm free to mess around and cut any-which-way I want. Just watching one Toyama-ryu class was enough to get me on the right track to cutting with clean hasuji. Thank the lord. Now I can actually TRAIN and worry about cutting on the draw, which is what mugai is all about.

Nothing new in aikido. In fact, if there was anything to report, it would be that my ukemi is getting worse. I'm losing confidence in my ability to be a hara-responsive uke. It's frustrating... really really frustrating. Again, like the Bucho says, maybe I'm trying too hard, but every time I go to the dojo, I hit a new wall. Is this what getting better is all about? Finding flaws that were there all along but were undetectable because yours truly is just an unaware moron? Maybe so. Where's Yoda when you need him?

Complete Coincidence

This morning Kei and I went over to Ome with Kei's father to visit Hayakawa-san, a sword-savvy friend of his. The drive took about two hours one way, but we had a good time hiking around Tokyo's back country and looking at swords.

I was totally blown away when Hayakawa san pulled out the first of several impressive "bitoken," (swords of artistic value) from his collection. As he was wiping it down before showing it to us, I caught glimpses that hinted at it being an early Edo period sword, possibly from the Kanbun Shinto school of smiths in the Osaka area. At one point the thought that it might possibly even be a Kawachi no Kami Kunisuke blade crossed my mind, but I thought that would be too coincidental in the back woods of eastern Japan. I almost passed out when I looked at the nakago: Kawachi no Kami Kunisuke, second generation of the Kawachi line of smiths. I lost the ability to articulate any thought in Japanese, but I somehow managed to explain to Hayakawa san that I spent most of my senior year of college researching the Kawachi lineage.

I had forgotten that the Kawachi's trademark is length (even the current Kawachi Kunihira, a deeply moving individual who I had the honor of meeting a few times several years ago). The family specializes in a "kobushigata chojiran hamon" (fist shaped, random clove patterned hamon), but more than anything the length of their swords is the first thing to stand out. I thought I was holding a katana, but then I realized I had forgotten (yet again) that the Kawachi's primarily made koto style nodachi and tachi. What I was holding was classified as a wakizashi. Somebody pinch me... PLEASE!

A Productive Five Day Weekend

This weekend has been a five-day break that has proven to be an incredibly productive use of my time. I haven't accomplished this much in... well... EVER. I tend to procrastinate just like most people, but every now and then I just have to make the effort to be slightly more than a couch potato on my day(s) off.

The academic year ends in mid-March, so at the moment Tokyo city schools are in the middle of final exams. Since my job is often defined (rather jokingly) as "a tape recorder with a pulse," there's really no need for me to be at school this week. I have one class on Thursday, and two classes on Friday, but other than that I'm a free man.

This morning I went to my company headquarters in Shibuya to sign my contract for the 2007-2008 academic year. Since they think I'm the man, they had already met all of my conditions without negotiating and had the contract ready to go when I walked in the door. The meeting started at 11:00, and I was out the door by 11:15. That's how I like to do business.

I then headed up to Shinjuku to City Bank to register my US bank accounts with City Japan, making overseas wire transfers possible via the internet. Hooray for modern technology! Boo for zero interest in Sushiland banks! I swear, the sooner I get my clams off this stinking island, the better. I'd like to retire some day, sheesh!

After lunch I headed up to Hombu and trained with Kobayashi sensei for this first time in months. He was so happy to see me that he pounded on me for a while and then made up his mind to use me for the next technique. He had me in ikkyo, poked his head under my arm and politely asked, "Can I use you for the next technique, Elvis? 'Cause you never know when you're going to come to my class again!" After class I noticed that my hakama has the beginnings of some nasty holes around the knees. Gotta get that patched up.

Did some iai tonight with The Bucho too. Spent the better part of an hour doing zagi (suwari waza), so now I'm dead....

On Sunday I bought a white cotton hakama for pretty cheap at a Mom-and-Pop budo store in Suidobashi. The posters on the walls and the display cases were discolored from years of going untouched and exposure to the sun. At least their products are new! There's something cool about the old, hole-in-the-wall budo shops around Tokyo. You can find really neat stuff that you couldn't find anywhere else. The only down side is the service. When I asked the old man who runs the place what kind of white hakamas he had, he literally grabbed the shelf of white hakamas and dumped them all over the floor. "You look like a size 25 or 26. Let me know when you find one you like."

Tamachi and Asakusa for Valentine's Day

Gosoke has been leading a regular kata practice on Saturday mornings in Tamachi since the beginning of this month. So far, the practices have been just as he promised: nothing but the basics.

As far as my iai training goes, I tend to be manic depressive. I have a great practice one day and then the absolute worst practice imaginable the next time I show my ugly face in the dojo. This week was no exception. Tuesday night I went to help Mugaido Tencho Sakaguch sent up for his cutting practice. I cut about six rolls... poorly. Sure my gyakugesas land so cleanly at this point that the wara hardly moves (the video from the previous post withstanding), yet yoko-ichi has continued to perplex me. It's so damn SIMPLE though! I have the blade angle, but the mechanics of the cut still aren't right. Nuki-chi gyakugesa refuses to cooperate as well. I cut, and one layer of the roll is left. It's taken me over two years to get to this point. It's never taken me this long to learn anything before. I was so upset that I almost quit iai entirely. I did compromise, however, by making the leap to join Hataya Sensei's dojo in March.

This afternoon I went up to Asakusa for the first time in a while to look around. I ended up getting a flower arrangement stand hand-carved out of kiri ("paulowina" in English) for Kei for Valentine's Day. She just couldn't control herself with all the excitement of receiving roses - or any flower for that matter - for the first time (I'm the man) that she wasn't sure what to do with them. I took this picture just in time to stop her from devouring my romantic endeavor.

The New Wakizashi [Short Sword] with My Old Cutter

Sheathed...

Unsheathed...

The hamon upclose...

試斬大小

Gosoke coerced me into buying a wakizashi this month, so I told him that it had to meet certain standards. If I'm going to buy one, then damn it, I want one that can cut! He agreed and told Oka-san (his sword appraiser way the hell out in Shiga prefecture) to send him a bunch of waks that have potential as cutters. Gosoke emailed me earlier this week with the good news. "Twenty man (200,000 yen) and it's yours!" he said. I swear I could hear him smiling through the phone. He had a couple on hand to show me when I stopped by Suimokai Hombu on Thursday afternoon. One was an incredibly beautiful and long koto (lit. "old sword") wak that weighed next to nothing. The next one he showed me was almost just as nice aesthetically, but was a bit shorter and was a considerably heavier "mumei" ("no name") from the shinto ("new sword") period... at least that's what he thought.

Basically, any good sword expert will tell you that one major difference between koto (old) and shinto (new) period swords is the quality and weight of the steel. For some reason, the magical sword-making skills that are now only talked about in some mythical sense (and are a part of Japanese folklore) suddenly vanished around the 15th or 16th century. All swords made after this mysterious period are known as (see above) "shinto," due to their distinctly different features. While many swordsmiths in the shinto and shinshinto ("new new sword" ... yeah, I know, just bare with me) periods still emulated the koto smiths to the best of their abilities, even masterpieces from these periods paled in comparison to fine koto blades.

Ergo, the lack of information in addition to the weight difference between the koto wakizashi and the unknown wakizashi led us to believe that the unknown wak was a shinto blade. I bought our mysterious friend, the heavy shinto blade since more weight means easier cutting!