The Thoughtful Sensei-Aikido Musings

169. Self-Deception

When you bow onto the mat the idea of self-deception is likely not the first thing that you think of.  But once you sit long enough to be honest with yourself, it very well may be a part of your training that you may not even be aware of.

Why do you train?

I personally started off looking for self-defense, then stayed around for the camaraderie, then fell in love with the sophistication of how the ryu’s were constructed and the process of how to learn (and teach them), and then after learning how koryu was designed to mold you to fit it (instead of the other way around) got serious about mat time and research time and reading everything I could.  My goal was to change who I was, to increase my self-confidence, suppress and control my ego-tendencies, learn humility, make new friends (I met my wife on the mat when she was a kohai) and become a Person of Power.

Person of Power?  Yes, although it’s not what you may think.  I would define a Person of Power as someone who walks across the mat like they own it, not are afraid of it.  Humble, but confident.  As little ego as possible, but total belief in ones’ self.  The ability to control the moment by actually BEING “in the moment” and not walking into oblivion (like someone with paper bag over their head).  Not seeking conflict but dominating and controlling it if it arises via martial skill sets.  Someone who follows Bushido (and the tenants of modern-day Budo) but not as a rogue warrior.  A teacher, not a bully.  A person who reads and researches, in addition to simply being an athlete.  A guide and leader, not a control freak. 

In short, becoming a complete human being by living a life in balance (ningan keisei, bun bu ryodou, a tatoo I have on my back).  I wanted to become that “complete human” by encompassing both the physical and the mental/spiritual, the sword and the pen.

  If you are going to be a martial artist and make the most of the opportunity to “grow into yourself” and become the person that you were meant to become; if you are going to advantage what a dojo can offer you, then it will be required that you develop honesty within yourself, and about yourself.  It is probably the most necessary quality required for understanding a few of the prime questions of life; who I am, why am I here, where do I come from, what do I want, where am I going.  Why do I do what I do?

Developing a clear-eyed view of self is critical if you are not to have an over-inflated sense self-worth, or equally disastrous, an underestimation of your worth.  The fact of the matter is that we all have positive facets of our personalities and character that are to be understood, developed, and appreciated; but we also have negative aspects of our character that need to be changed, suppressed and controlled (filtered as-it-were) or simply erased.

I have been in the martial arts for 50 years now and for myself and many players that I trained with, taught, and still know, the single biggest benefit of the training has been to address the self-doubts that can bother you in the middle of the night.  The problem however can sometimes be the lack of courage to look inside and see the questions; a requirement before one can see the answers.

The more time spent in looking at the why’s (of why do put on the white pajamas and the black skirt), the greater the chance that you will become aware of why you train.  Once those answers are found (or merely suspected) the greater the likelihood that you will be able to communicate with kohai on the mat and in turn assist them in their own process of self-discovery and martial development as you work yourself through your personal life-progress, all the while assisting them with theirs.

Yes.  We are indeed there for our own training.  However, as sempai or tori or as kohai or uke, we are not there to show how good we are, find fault in others, or bolster the ego of our self or our training partner.   We are there to learn the art, discover our abilities, understand who we are and why we are there, and to work with junior players and assist them in the same path of discovery.

If we don’t commit enough of ourselves (be sincere and go to class) or we give too much (become fanatical about it all) we simply fog up the mirror we should be looking into and end up failing to advantage of any of the learning opportunities; basically wasting our time in the dojo and by extension, our lives. 

So why do YOU train?

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

December 10, 2019

168. PIE R Square - A Brief Rambling

What we do in the dojo needs to be as real as we can possibly (and safely) make it.  It’s Budo.  It is not a sport.  It is not a game.  It is an activity where we practice the very serious art of controlled violence where mistakes have consequences and even the little things can often be critical so everyone’s head must always be on straight.  The quantum 8-dimensional algorithm may therefore be stated as:

PIE (Physical, Intellectual, Emotional) ………….. R (Reigisaho) Squared. 

Reigisaho can be considered many times more important than simple PIE.  PIE can be looked at as how “teachable” a student is (a measurement of their capacity and potential so-to-speak).  R (Reigisaho) can be looked at as “how seriously” that student views the training and whether they develop the proper mental attitude to understand that the dojo (and indeed Budo) are not sports nor are they games.  Reigisaho should then be looked at as R-Squared.  Maybe even R-Cubed and beyond.  That is how important Reigisaho is to the life of a dojo and to its’ existence in the Budo-Verse.

A dojo, if one pauses to consider, is an unrealistic and impractical idea; a waste in the business sense of unoccupied space and underutilized facilities since 24/7 classes are impossible.  Many Sensei have described the dojo in their own fashion so there are many ways to consider the idea of the existence of such a place.  A place of competition?  No.  A place of combat?  No.  A place of pure contemplation?  No.  A place of self-realization and enlightenment?  No.  An institution of learning?  No.  A place of social discourse?  No. 

What then?

It is not a gymnasium, a sports bar, a church, a social club, a rec center, a temple or monastery, a beer or dance hall, a business or a corporation.  Some Sensei have used the term “sacred place” although that term while more complete than others, is still insufficient.  It’s not even a school although most of the advertising one sees describes it as such because the normal Western civilian is simply unable to grasp the idea that it is something beyond a mere “school” per se.

It is also not a “physical” place.  Yes; it has walls, roof, floors, and other structures that one can walk into and “be” within, but a dojo is more a mental and spiritual state of being than of mere body.  Yes; the dojo is a physical manifestation of the ideals of Budo, and a dojo is said to absorb the “energy” of those who train and spend time there to the point that a sensitive can enter and “feel” those energies.  A Dojo however is better considered a larger existence with all other descriptive possibilities attaching themselves to that one point; a locus as-it-were.

We all work and struggle and rejoice and suffer in our efforts to prosper or just to survive in our society with its emphasis on achievement, money, politics, etc. so the dojo becomes an offset to that life-battle.  It becomes a space that exists for our larger selves, and that space is energized by us going beyond the binary yes-no, win-lose idea.  The dojo needs several things that create, support, and maintain its “being”.  Those are within the overall encompassing aspects of Reigisaho.

There is a widely told teaching story in Budo concerning kendo and kickboxing.  A high-level championship shiai is held and when the winner is declared there are two differing reactions.  In the kendo match the facial expression of the winner and of the loser both remain the same with no real emotion.  The winner is the one who first bows (to the loser) to show his respect for the efforts made by him.  The respect from each to each is obvious.  In the kickboxing match when the winner is declared, the winner begins to raise his hands in the air, jump up and down and beat his chest as-if to gloat and disrespect the loser.  Two different reactions.  Two different personalities.  Only one understands.

When we train in controlled violence we have to “over-respect” our training partner who is giving us permission to do things to them that contains the possibles of maiming or killing someone who is not trained; or who is poorly trained or just sloppy and unobservant.  In Aikido and Judo when we throw someone into the floor they survive intact only because they have been taught and have learned how to relax, react, and respond.  Despite their understanding and knowing their side of the Budo-equation (you throw …. I react and protect myself) there is still danger involved and showing respect maintains an attitude within you that reflects your appreciation for their working with you that will cause you to slow down or hold back to ensure that they can “get down” (to the mat) or not break or dislocate anything.

Many people are ejected from a dojo.  I’ve ejected more than a small handful myself over the years because they just seem unable to respect and protect their training partner and seem to not understand that they are in a dojo, not a high school debate club.  They claim that they are only “just making sure it works against someone resisting”; a ridiculous claim at any level.  They act as if the dojo is not a special space and as if Sensei and the Sempai can be argued with and debated illustrating their lack of understanding of the serious nature of training in Budo and their ignoring the idea that Sensei and the other Sempai might have a different viewpoint on the important issues at hand; those viewpoints being based in the fact that Sensei might literally have more years on the mat than the kohai has been alive.

A matter of perspective but an important one.

If we are training properly, if we have good teachers, if we pay attention, then we should realize that the repetitive practice we are engaged in is designed to exploit the opponent’s weaknesses.  Soft repetition gives us feedback that we cannot sense or understand if we are using power and speed.  That soft repetition sometimes means that the technique fails on occasion BUT WE MUST understand that it is failing against another player that is likely at the same level of ability that we are.  That means that even if it failed against another highly skilled player that it would work against an unskilled civilian (non-martial artist) who has none of the highly trained reactions and skill sets a trained player has.

This distinction means that to develop skill we must have someone who we can work with repeatedly over a long period of time.  Doing simple things like bowing before, during, and after the keiko shows the respect due to a fellow player and show that we appreciate their working with us, and that we will show our appreciation by not trying to inflict injury by “testing” the technique, or ignore Sensei and “fly by the seat of our pants”, a cute phrase to describe someone not following directions and inventing their own variations.  In most forms of Budo, this “free-style” training and ignoring Sensei is itself a dangerous form of disrespect.  Sensei is working to keep training safe and by consciously disregarding Sensei (not respecting his directions) the student can do something dangerous that results in injury.

In the end, reigisaho is simultaneously respect and an adjustment of our attitude and how we relate to and work with others as we train in controlled violence.

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

October 30, 2019

167. Pie R Round

Yes.  Pie are round.  Annnd?

Most pies are indeed round but so are zenpo kaiten (forward rolling breakfalls) as is one of the three primary figures many attribute to Aikido (the square, triangle, and the circle).  Understanding the circle can’t be done overnight, zenpo kaiten takes some work, and making a great pie takes some “Grandmother” level skill-sets.  Try getting overly technical when teaching a beginner how to roll into a breakfall properly and that beginner may end up not liking you very much as their confusion and frustration levels rise.  Then go home and make that peach pie your grandmother used to make when you were a kid; you know, the one that has the old-style “pre-Betty Crocker” recipe that says “take a pinch of this, add a palm-full of this, pour in a tea glass of fresh milk (I thought it was all fresh milk but maybe grandmother had a different cow than most people).

Teaching, like pie making, is an art form for which there really are no good textbooks to follow so if you’re a “book person” then you’re out of luck.  My old Sensei who guided my development for about 20+ years once told me that I was a “book person” and that until I accepted that martial arts are an “art form” (pun) and that training in them (but most especially teaching them) is a true “art” that I would be locked into place at my current Budo-Ceiling and unable to rise any higher in rank, understanding, or ability at randori. 

His observation (as I finally figured out) came largely from my tendency to look for hard and fast rules in how I was to learn, in my demanding that everyone I was teaching follow the same hard and fast rules, my placing everything into boxes and categories, and my assuming that everyone else did also.  All those hindrances to my martial arts development and career were a result of years of being a finance & economics major, followed by working as a bank regulator and then an EDP examiner.  Everything had a box, or a flow chart, or a graph, or a policies and procedures manual, or a spread sheet to fit into.  It didn’t matter whether it fit or not, “Get thee into yon round hole thy wearisome square peg”.

It took years to work myself out of that “bookish” over-analytical attitude (or frozen mind) and to understand how to look at the art form as just that; art.  Martial Art ..... Art Form ...... any clues here to see?

Teaching was the same.  Not everyone learns the same; something that is not easily understood until one fully accepts and has the responsibility to run and manage a dojo.  I had to figure it all out, first at my Sensei’ dojo for several years before I moved on, and then at my own dojo for the next 20.

So ………. PIE …. A Budo acronym for (P)hysical, (I)ntellectual, (E)motional. 

A researcher named Gardner many years ago wrote a book that detailed the idea that IQ is not simply and only the ability to score high on the Weschler Scale (one of the most commonly used IQ tests) but instead is multiple intelligences.  He believed that each can be separately tested and measured thus giving a more comprehensive view of any persons’ actual abilities in areas such as spacial perception, mathematical ability, understanding of abstractions, morality, or verbal acuity.  Taken together, the various IQ’s give a more comprehensive picture of any single person’s adaptability and learning potential than would otherwise be possible.

Budo then ………..

Physical.  Ever notice how some students work hard but still can’t tell their left foot from their right or how some students have such a fear of breakfalling that you think they’ll never, ever get it in a thousand years? 

Some students just don’t have the physical ability of the “natural athlete” to do physical things which, according to Gardner is an indicator of a low kinesthetic IQ (remembering that this is a "physical or kinesthetic" IQ and not that of overall intelligence).  It comes difficult for them and they must work twice as hard.  We had one student who finally learned how to do forward and backward rolls (there’s that zenpo kaiten circle again) but for whatever reason they simply were terrified of being thrown over their own hand as is required for kotegaeshi, sumiotoshi, or a guruma.  Even a well-supported Judo hip throw was frightening. 

How did we get the student past this?  We spent weeks and months working on a soft crash pad until finally, they jumped into it and could do it as well as the rest of the class.  I for one thought that part of the issue was that in childhood they fell out of a tree and their subconscious contained a subliminally instilled fear.  Another, more spooky thought was that maybe in a prior incarnation they fell off a cliff resulting in a genetically imbued fear of being airborne or thrown; a concept known as epigenics (a topic for another time).  Whatever the underlying reason, we had to work to desensitize them to the idea of being thrown and of falling until they could use their mind to control the subconscious fear and work through the issue.  All it took was a little extra instruction which no good Sensei should object to doing. 

So don’t let them quit.  Only keiko and facing the fear inherent within the issue will get them past it and you the Sensei (or the Sempai) must bluntly insist that they work the problem.

Intellectual.  Some folks just talk it to death.  You explain the technique, demonstrate it, ask them to do it, and then get a hundred questions.  You again ask the student to do it …………. and get another hundred questions.  Sometimes I think that there are those out in the Budo-verse who are just too smart for their own gi.  They may have some brain smarts, a couple of degrees or two, and be very competent (and maybe overpaid) in their profession but they use their intellect to question, and then explain what they think it is.  They share their opinion across the board without actually understanding what it is and what is ain’t.  They seem to doubt most or all the information given them as if keiko on the tatami is a Socratic debate with everyone passing around the hemlock (and if you’re the Sensei then you’re the first to reach for the cup so that you can put yourself out of your own misery from having to listen to the incessant brain dump).

After encouraging, telling, directing, literally ordering some deshi to just be quiet and to do the work, they finally (after a time) get the jest of the idea and the incessant running commentary finally stops.  The body learns before the mind can grasp the questions that may arise.  Confusion and uncertainty can be overcome after a few dozen if not hundreds of repetitions of the movement during which the neural pathways are formed, and the body begins to automatically respond correctly.  The issue here is that sometimes being Sensei and working to guide the deshi and to teach them requires that a firm (and sometimes rude?) attitude adjustment be directed at the deshi.  As one of my former Japanese teachers once told me, “More work, less koochi-waza” (koochi waza (sic) roughly translated from the Japanese meaning “working the mouth”).

At some point they have to get past the Socratic idea and just accept the teaching as it is; otherwise they will never progress and become a burden, an irritant, an (insert your own adjective) since they know so much that they make themselves “unteachable”.

Emotional.  What we do in the dojo needs to be as real as we can possibly (and safely) make it.  It’s Budo.  It is not a sport.  It is not a game.  It is an activity where we practice the very serious art of controlled violence where mistakes have consequences and even the little things can often be critical, so everyone’s head must always be on straight. 

Some students are unable to “get into” the idea of learning how to potentially hurt or damage someone and if they accidentally cause an injury, even a very minor one such as a scrape or bruise, their reaction is to semi-panic and become overly concerned over what actually amounts to nothing.  The occasional bruise in a dojo is (and should be) an accepted part of the training as long as it is not a serious matter requiring unnecessary recovery periods.  Most people, myself included, have received much worse injuries playing high school football or turning an ankle while running the city park for example

Some are not able to handle the focus of intense training required to learn how to responsibly control the physicality of maintaining control of uke and of themselves; the combination of the two needed to avoid injury of either training partner.  A lot of training and mat time is necessary to achieve that level of expertise, but the mental acceptance of that required time may be difficult for the student with mat-time is pushed aside in favor of Happy Hour and running personal errands.  So should the Sensei consider that deliberate avoidance of training time to also be an avoidance of the personal responsibility of building that focus?

Some people push too hard and get in too much of a hurry to learn (and being too concerned about that next promotion) and they must be slowed down.  All learning, especially of physical art forms requires an absolute minimal amount of time, and trying to rush the overall process can result in personal burnout, injuries to either tori or uke by trying things that they are not yet ready for, and can thereby become a burden for the senior ranks who are working to teach and guide them.  The senior ranks would prefer to work on the basics while the student drives to rush ahead to the next promotion or kata before they have fully developed the prior work.  This can and very often does make them a safety concern on the mat that the Sensei or Sempai must now be concerned about.  Advancement means not only learning that new material but reaching a higher qualitative level when working on the earlier material that came before.

And for the moment let’s not get into the emotional issue of ego where they learn a little but now think they know a lot; an attitude that stops all progress in its’ tracks.  Not much needs said about ego other than it must be squashed, preferably through self-correction by the person engaged in it; but by the Sempai in a firm manner if necessary.  Suppression of ego is a critical part of true advancement in Budo.

Teaching martial arts is a difficult task; one that many senior ranks believe they understand when their understanding is only just started and barely beyond the elementary level.  Like many arts in life, the longer you the teacher is “at it” so-to-speak the better you get, the more you understand, and the more backwards looking observational time is available to you.

The more total teaching time as Sensei or a senior Sempai you have under your belt, then the further back you can look on your historical pathway enabling you to see the results of the various teaching and learning methods you tried, and how they helped or hindered a student’s development.  Adjusting your methodologies is a critical part of advancing your (the Sensei’ or Sempai’) development and guiding the development of the student.

Having a 20- or 30-year history of success and failure with students allows you to see how to help that person with the unconscious fear, how to finally get the chatterbox to stop the brain dump and cease giving opinions and just doing the work, and how to address the various emotionality’s and ego’s that students bring to the dojo.

The flip side of that is identifying the weak player who may not be the consummate athlete, may have fears of trying something new, and who may not be the fully mature individual but …. they want to learn so it’s up to you to take them under your wing and guide them to full maturity and ability.  As long as they can physically progress and act in a mature fashion it can be a successful relationship and they will eventually rise to their natural level and may one day become a Sensei in their own right.

The other flip side of that however is that it also enables you the teacher to identify the “lost cause”; that person who will never make it, never really learn, never really improve.  Sometimes, asking someone to stop training is the best thing for all concerned as they will never hit their goals, and may never be able to safely train or to avoid injuring themselves or someone else. 

While one can and should argue that every potential student should be given the opportunity and that a good Sensei should work to ensure everyone’s success, one can also rationally argue that sometimes the tough decision should be made while we remember that what we do in the dojo needs to be as real as we can possibly (and safely) make it.  It’s Budo.  It is not a sport.  It is not a game.  It is an activity where we practice the very serious art of controlled violence where mistakes have consequences and even the little things can often be critical, so everyone’s head must always be on straight.   

Not everyone can make the tryout for the volleyball team.  The dojo, being what it is, is no different.

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

October 14, 2019

166. Not As Easy As You Think - Part 3 - The Mechanics

Go Big or Go Home or so they say.  After all the considerations we made as comented on in Part 1 and 2 (of this mini-series on opening and running a dojo) we finally found a way out of the “Y” and into our own space where we could have a dedicated space to train.  We wouldn’t have to share room with gymnastics equipment, rock walls, pilates classes, kids, wanna’ be Mt. Everest climbers, or overweight house wives and best of all, we could extract ourselves from the politics of the YMCA Board of Directors, patrons, money-men, and program directors all of whom competed for time and priority.  We decided to build a world-class dojo that would hold the 45 students we had gradually built up to over our time at the “Y”.

We were very fortunate in that two of our players decided to not only design and build but also to finance the move.  The mood was upbeat and everyone danced on the mat; until that is, reality set in.  So for anyone who still harbors the desire to open a large professional-level dojo as an owner and a teacher, here is what you’re in for.

Find the location.  It must be freeway accessible and cannot be on some small, two lane street that is difficult to find or that is out of the way just because the location may be cheap.  People will not drive more than roughly 30 to 45 minutes (in easy traffic) to or from class making accessibility and road time a critical component.  The rub here is the balance between time on the road and cost.  Prime locations can run upwards of $12 to $18 psf so the equation reads “better and more visible public access divided by cost per square foot = a lot of money”.  Great locations in a frontage strip center, depending on how many square feet you are considering, can be several thousand a month.  An office warehouse space can be half that (but it won’t look nearly as nice on the outside and your neighbor may not understand how to take out the trash can). 

Size of the facility.  How large can you go and still be affordable?  More importantly, how large a space can you lease (we’re assuming that we’re not buying the property which is its' own can of worms not addressed in this short series) and does it have poles in the middle of the mat/training area.  Generally, the larger the desired mat area the greater the likelihood of having structural support poles in the middle of the room.  Nothing is more inconvenient than throwing your uke into the pole every other technique.  Additionally, poles severely restrict the total training area simply because of the wide berth you must give them when putting students on the mat.  We calculated that every pole in the mat area cuts down the total training area by about 200 sf (using a radius of 8 feet for the circle around each pole, e.g. throwing a 6 foot tall uke towards the pole and having a safety margin) so if your total projected mat space is 2,500 (what we ended up with) then one pole reduces that total mat space down to 2,300.  Two poles turn what should have been 2,500 sf into 2,100 sf, and so on.  Functionally however, the overall loss of “effective” mat space is possibly twice that since the spacing between training pairs must be reconsidered.  So part of your planning must be the construction of the leased space and cost of the mat area vs. loss of mat area due how the building is set up.  We ended up leasing two bays in an office warehouse park that was stran-steel and without poles in the middle.  The location is off the freeway and in the back of the park.  Not being street visible means no walk-in traffic and that advertising takes on a more critical role than would otherwise be the case.  This need for greater advertising has a obvious impact on the P&L.

Interior.  Dressing rooms?  Showers?  Storage rooms?  Rest rooms? Yes to all if you want civilians (folks not yet into and committed to Budo who are just “trying you on for size”) to actually come in and like what they see.  I’ve seen dojo with no dressing rooms where either you come in your car already suited up (“Hey, look at that guy in the car next to us in those funny karate clothes”) or you change in the rest room, ("Pardon me.  Pardon me.  I'm just trying to step over your bag and clothes and get to the urinal.  Oh sorry, I missed.").  Showers are nice but not crucial, so we saved some money there.  Rest rooms, a critical item but some dojo don’t even have that.  Try teaching out of your garage at home and having all the students go into your house to relieve themselves.  Try being in a strip center of some kind and they have to trot down the way to a filthy public bathroom since your space doesn’t have one.

Training area.  Since we were training a throwing art (read: uke falls down a lot) then we had to build the same type sprung floor that my old Sensei had and that we had at the “Y”.  Many people talk about how to construct that type sprung/raised floor including using Styrofoam spacers (not enough give and the mat on top is still too hard), valve springs taken out of car engines (can you find enough springs exactly the same size and draw weight to spring the entire floor and are they too soft to accommodate 250 pound players hitting the floor), car tires (again not enough give and can you find enough that are exactly the same size).  So we took the route that the Kodokan and my old Sensei took which was to build the floor using custom spun specially engineered steel springs with a plywood floor mounted on top of those all covered by foam sheets designed for grappling and MA applications with white canvas  stretched across the top.  It was a really fast training floor easily walked across without sinking into it, but it could take massive ukemi and uke got right back up.  It took us about two weeks to build out working at night.  Cost was not cheap (it was a lot less money 20 years ago but in today’s dollars expect a bill of around $25,000 for a non-mobile floor permanently bolted into the concrete).  The end result was well worth it, but it had the impact of cementing in our commitment due to the financial burden if nothing else.  The other part of the buildout also included dressing rooms, office, and rest rooms that all went in before the mat did.  Construction was quick but not cheap and had to be negotiated.  And, since there was no lighting (and the space we leased was 3,500 sf) we had to bring in an engineer to tell us how many lumens we needed and how to hit that mark with the right kind of lighting (your table lamp at home won’t work well).  Plus, we had to bring in HVAC engineers to determine, and install, the proper amount of btu's to cool and heat what amounted to a large barn.

Opening the doors.  Complicated at best, not much fun at worst.  After doing our own drive-by’s all over town we finally gave up and contracted with a commercial real estate agent who specialized in business leases.  We had to sign an agreement with him.  We ended up at an office warehouse park and had to sign a lease with him (for this expect to pay first and last month in advance).  We had to have signs made for the door and for the street marquee.  We had to open an account with the electric company (that was a surprising $1,000, much higher than turning on the power at your house).  We had to take out property and liability insurance (pay a full year in advance).  We had to pay for advertising in the local neighborhood paper and build a website (hand coding in html back then was real work so unless you’re good with todays’ Word Press, expect to pay upwards of several hundred dollars if not thousands).  We had to send out (behind the “Y”s back) notices to all our current students to notify them of the move in advance to telling the “Y” we were leaving.  We were not surprised to find out that only about half of the student population came with us; an immediate impact on our initially projected cash flow.

After we moved in and began accepting new students, we of course had the issues of paper towels, water fountain and paper cups, toilet paper, medical supplies, light bulbs, air conditioning filters; all the little assorted odds and ends that it takes to run classes.  And cleaning.  Cleaning is a constant need due to effectively running what amounts to over a hundred students a week if not more (people come more than once a week increasing the effective head count) on the mat who drop hair and skin and track dirt onto the mat creating a need to constantly clean, and clean, and clean .......

Sensei used to say that if you can’t clean your own toilets then you shouldn’t run a dojo.  He was right.

So hopefully I’ve discouraged your idea of opening a dojo.  Keep in mind I’ve left out all the personnel and dojo-politics issues and the constant need to be on point.  On the other hand, if I’ve excited you and you still want open up and give it go, and I’ve given you some ideas on what pitfalls to avoid then I’ve accomplished something.  While running a dojo the last 20 years has certainly had its’ ups and downs and challenges to overcome, it has been immensely satisfying. 

They say that a Sensei is only a student who had to open a dojo in order to keep training and that is so very true.  When I left my old Sensei I was pretty much burned out.  Once I started teaching however, I fell in love with the whole “Budo-Thingie” all over again and my universe expanded as my knowledge and experience increased and I could be creative in some of the lessons.  If you can stand the heat in the kitchen, then put on your apron and bake those cookies and cobblers and while you’re at it, pour a little wine and toast all those people who taught you and worked with you over the years to put you in the kitchen where you belong.  As Roosevelt said, “….. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds ….”. 

That description of the effort certainly fits running a mat.

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

September 25, 2019

 

165. Not As Easy As It Looks - Part 2 - The Country Dojo

So in this part 2 of how to found and run a dojo let’s take a look at what my old Sensei referred to as a “Country Dojo”.  What is that and, what are the good and bad points about one of those?

After knowing that we had to leave the “Y” (from part 1 of this short series) we looked at alternatives that other people we personally knew had done.  The organization that my Sensei started had member dojo in probably 10 or 15 different states and even a couple of dojo in Canada and they ranged Texas to Florida to Washington DC to Washington State. 

All of them had come to his organization and teachings via word of mouth, referrals, having met at Judo shiai, or attending week-long training clinics.  Many/most did not have the time or financial commitment that he had put into his dojo which had a fully sprung floating floor with professional mats on top covered in white canvas that was about 2,500 sf in size with dressing rooms and showers, so they did what they could the best way that they could in order to stay in Budo and actively train where ever they were.

After moving to Houston from my small hometown I fell in love with springs and good mats, up to that point having experienced only folding gymnastic mats laid on concrete at a community ed center.  Unless you’ve trained on what essentially is no padding at all, you simply have no idea of what that is like; nor can you viscerally understand the joy of discovering training on a professional grade floor like they have at the Kodokan in Tokyo.

So while everyone loved his mat, they couldn’t match his facilities or his commitment of running a professional curriculum.  Long story short, they did what they could but largely fell short for several reasons.

First, holding regular classes on a consistent calendar schedule can be difficult.  If you’re running a small dojo and have no senior ranks you can depend on and you’re sick one night, then class is cancelled and your students are disappointed.  Having a large group of dependable teachers under you can be very difficult to grow if your entire student population is less than a dozen people most of whom are in class on an irregular basis.  Having a much larger group of students in the dojo means that about a third are really regular in class, about a third are kinda’ sorta’ regular, and the bottom third come so infrequently that it might take them ten years to make Ikkyu.  I had one of those once and it took him 9 ½ years to make Ikkyu since we don’t promote strictly by “time in grade” but instead by actually training, knowing the material, and being able to demonstrate that knowledge. 

Having a large student population means that you have a fair-sized group of deshi who stay and train and progress over the years with the most senior and capable rising to the top.  They become an essential part of the dojo such that you, the guy running the dojo, can simply pass classes off to someone for a week or two and just not worry about it because you have some depth in your personnel resources.  Best of all though, is that you don’t really need a lot of these high-level players; only 2 or 3 that you can really trust and depend on but, you must have the foundation (large enough group of students to work with) to grow them first.

Next, it can be difficult to teach advanced material with enough repetition so that deshi can learn it and become truly competent; not just competent mind you, but reaching high-level ability in the art.  A throwing art such as Aikido requires ukemi to understand the quantum mechanics relationship between tori and uke.  Not being able to take enough ukemi for your tori means that they will never feel the throw a sufficient number of times to become really good at it.  Additionally, your ukemi will never properly develop since you can’t take enough falls for them and over time you'll develop a hesitation at being thrown which increases the chances of your being injured if anyone really hits the mark and you can't avoid the breakfall.

Why is this?  The mats in a Country Dojo generally do not have the quality of a permanently installed sprung floor that is bolted into the concrete (or wood, whichever).  The common element of most Country Dojo (unless the Sensei has a budget large enough for a permanent location with a floor installed, such as owning your own building) usually must have an arrangement such that the mats are rolled/folded out for class, and then put away after bow-off so that the next group can come in behind you.

One solution for this can be renting mat time in a gymnastics school which many do but now you’re back to the issue we had at the “Y” which was, keeping the assigned mat time, not having the gymnastics people pre-emp your classes due to a calendar shift or gymnastics competition (which happened to us more than once) or having the kids run across the training area wearing street shoes.  And that’s if their liability insurance will permit them to take-on a martial arts dojo that may or may not use weapons for training.

So with that said, without equipment designed to allow a maximum number of falls with a minimum level of pain and discomfort (did I mention taking bad ukemi on thin folding mats on a concrete floor?) students “top out” and find that they can only take so many falls a class.  Worst of all is that if you are running older students who may not have the physical conditioning of a high school or college-age person, then for them the ukemi become close to impossible to learn, much less become good at simply because it hurts ….. a lot.  How many blown out shoulders can one person tolerate?

Staying at the same location can be very problematic.  One small dojo group that Sensei had was relegated to moving from public school campus to public school campus.  They were renting mat time from the wrestling teams at each school (for the mat availability) and as the school calendars changed or as school dismissed for holidays (meaning no classes allowed during Thanksgiving, Christmas, or Spring Break) and the summer, they would spend a month at one campus before being told to move to another down the street.  Nothing can discourage growth like never being in the same place for very long (no one can find the class, "I could swear it was here just last week!") and it really complicates any advertising since your address is always changing.  Growing class size is critical for the survival of the dojo so this small group of maybe 10 to 15 that I was personally acquainted with and taught clinics for managed to hold on for several years but never grew and finally folded the mats and went home.

Expectations of the students can become an issue.  If someone wants to try out Aikido and can find your small Country Dojo at a rec or community center somewhere then they likely will not mind paying $30 or $40 a month for classes.  However, don’t expect a student to pay $100 a month or up unless you can fulfill their expectations of a better than average training floor, dressing rooms possibly with showers, decorations for atmosphere (we have a lot of calligraphy and art work hung everywhere) and a professional level environment with easy parking. 

When I first started it was in a community center with terrible folding mats on concrete and I was paying $12 (yes, twelve dollars) for 6-weeks’ worth of classes.  That class fee won’t even pay for advertising today so the worse and more temporary your facilities are, the lower the odds are that you can hang on to having a dojo, much less actually grow it into something because you won’t impress potential students like the karate shop down the street does.  You may have a better martial arts product overall but remember that marketing (and closing the sale) can be everything.

So what is an alternative?

One is to teach only weapons classes such as Iaido, Kendo, or Jodo.  By focusing only on weapons work and not teaching an art form that requires breakfalling you can eliminate the need for mats.  Wood floors would be nice but smooth concrete, tile that is not irregular with grout joints, and linoleum will work and all the comments above on floors can be disregarded.

However, all the other comments fully apply here also.  Regular location and training times that don’t change.  Having full backup instructors in case you go out of town on vacation or work or you have the flu is critical.  Having facilities that look acceptable.  Good marketing for student population growth.  Etc.

So while switching to a weapons form cancels the need for flooring, the other issues still exist.  If you can’t get past four or five players including you then reaching high-levels of performance becomes difficult as the size of classes ebb and flow and no one is really there often enough over a course of potentially years to really and deeply learn something.  One or two students drop out and now you not only have to find replacements to make whatever expenses you may have, but the instruction starts over from scratch and all that prior instructional development is lost.  Over time, your higher-level skill sets stagnate because there are few students who can test your ability and if those that you do have fall out, then basically that means that you are topped out, quite possibly permanently.

Ah! you say.  But I can bring in a senior instructor.  Maybe.  The last time we brought in a senior instructor in anything it was into four-figures in cost so for a country dojo with say six to a dozen players tops, you can’t make that nut and now you have to spend personal funds to travel there instead and then try to bring it back, share it, propagate it, and then push it forward.

By now I’m sure that if you were considering opening a small study group (or a Country Dojo) you’re discouraged and questioning your sanity at such a thought.

Don’t be.  Remember what I started off by saying at the first ………………… you do what you can the best way you can.  Just remember to temper your expectations and be realistic in what you think you are looking for.  Also remember that sometimes being a student instead of the Sensei means that you can just train and not worry about the business aspects.

Next installment ………… Go Big or Go Home & The Mechanics.

 

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

September 20, 2019

164. Not As Easy As It Looks - Part 1 - The "Y"

Several months ago I received an email from an old student who via economic swings and the phases of the moon landed in a mid-size town where about the only Budo is kids karate classes (he is in his forties or so and definitely fails to qualify for the Pooh Bear Medallion for good grades in kindergarten).

He asked the question of “How do I open my own dojo so that I can get back into teaching and training”.  After I choked on my coffee, I re-read the email and hammered out a response and forgot about it.  I only now found it again while cleaning up the server, so I’d thought I’d share it for anyone who is insane enough to actually want to “step off into it”.

Therefore, for anyone who thinks that they want to open a dojo, or even start a small study group, here is what I learned 20 years ago when we opened for ukemi.  I also based my response to him after 20+ years with my former Sensei who had more than a handful of small “country dojo’s” in his organization.  He defined Country Dojo as a small study group basically with anywhere from a half-dozen to a dozen people more or less that met on a semi-regular basis in a garage or community center with an impermanent (read “folding mats”) training surface; whereas a “serious or professional dojo” was one like his, and like the one we eventually opened, with upwards of 30 to 50 students, full dressing rooms, and a Kodokan-style sprung floor.

When I first resigned from my old dojo I had planned on permanently retiring from Aikido and doing only some occasional Judo with an old friend who had national level competitive experience.  I was burned out on teaching and filming and running large groups of players and was only interested in an occasional workout for fun with no attached responsibilities; basically, go when I wanted, if I wanted.  That quickly turned into phone calls and email of “You have to start Aikido classes.  Build it and they will come.”  Even the Judo Sensei I wanted to train under was in on it and emphasized that the YMCA was looking for new programs to add and, the Athletic Director wanted to speak with me about it since he had already spilled the beans. 

Since the Judo group was at a YMCA it was easy, at least at first.  We pulled together resumes, copies of all our promotional certificates, and a curriculum, applied and were hired by the YMCA because they do not take on sub-contractors nor do they rent out space. 

Unless they have changed radically from what I remember they only do programs where the teacher is an actual “Y” employee and fully subject to their personnel policies and insurance coverages.  The positive was that they did all the advertising and liability insurance.  The negative was that they took most of the money, paid you a salary every two weeks, and dictated what the class fees were.  So, a money maker it was not, and we barely made enough to pay for gas.

The only time you got a raise so-to-speak was when the number of students increased.  Of course, like all YMCA’s looking to increase program revenue, every time the number of students increased the Y would increase the class fees resulting, no surprise here, in students dropping out due to the increased cost that they had to pay.  And, if they were also a member of the Y then their Y membership fees plus the cost of the class certainly didn’t help student retention or class growth.

The second downside was that they dictated your teaching schedule and the facilities you used.  We ended up in the children’s gymnastics room on a gymnastics floor with weak springs attached to particle board with floor carpet.  The floor always came apart, so we were forever pulling it up and putting it back down since is wasn’t made for heavy adults but only light weight kids.  Since the room was multi-use, we had gymnastics bars and racks on one side and a climbing wall on the other and we had to continually yell to stop training when 7-year-old kids rans across the mat in the middle of throwing people around.  Ever seen a 50-pound kid impacted by a 200-pound adult?  Yeah, me neither and we seemed always able to avoid it somehow.  How many times did we ask the parents to not let their kids fun across the mat during class?  Too many and of course they always went and complained about those nasty karate people.

The other downside was that initially, they only wanted us to take students who were either already members of the “Y” or who agreed to sign up as “Y” members.  No “non-Y” students were allowed so the “Y” used our Aikido program as a tool (read blunt instrument) to build up their own membership.  This of course didn’t help us much as we were required to continually market YMCA membership and informational pamphlets.  How many times does a new student have to say “no” to you before they get tired of it and leave? 

After some conversation they finally allowed us to bring in “non-Y” students but because they were not YMCA members, they couldn’t use the dressing rooms and had to change in the public bathrooms with all the dirt and filth and constant flow of people in and out.  We lost several good students over that since it was hard to explain a “Y” program that relegated our students to a public bathroom as opposed to a full dressing room.  It was so poorly thought out on their part that even I and the other instructors couldn’t use the dressing rooms because while we were “Y” employees per se, we weren’t “Y” members because of the cost.

After we finally managed to get the Aikido program on an even keel despite all the issues that we had to hurdle, we wanted to expand the program by teaching Seitei Jodo.  We had several existing students and people walking in during class asking about Samurai weapons so we viewed it as both an opportunity and a means to solidify our standing with the “Y” by increasing the cash flow we generated with another program offering.

So we had a demo for Amy “No Last Name” who was the Athletic Director.  She was quite impressed having never seen Jodo before and very promptly said at the end of the demo, “That’s wonderful but sorry Charlie.  Our liability insurance and our program manual prohibit anything that could result in being hit by a weapon (training or otherwise) so we cannot add Jodo to our programs.”  Then she told me about the kendo group who had applied to open a class there and a guy who had wanted to teach iaido (dull swords but still made of metal) and they also were turned down flat.  So, while they could see their way to doing Judo, Aikido and a kid’s karate program, anything beyond that was just verboten.

Then there was the real kicker.  At a “Y” all important decisions are always made by the Board of Directors and, the Board of Directors is generally the patrons with the fattest checkbook and the heftiest donations.  So we’re at the “Y” going on two almost three years and thinking that things have finally smoothed out and that we’re good to go for a while only to be told that the wife of a board member has decided that the “Y” needs a Pilates class room and that the gymnastics room where we are set up looks just perfect.  We now have a time limit to either move to a different room, day, and time or just shut down the entire program.  It didn’t matter that by this time we had over 45 steady players and were a functional profit center for the "Y".  It only mattered that somewhere out there was a possibly overweight housewife with a wealthy husband who wanted Pilates.

So we had to look at alternatives and move fast.

Next installment ……….. So Sensei, what about those country dojos?

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

September 19, 2019

 

163. Slump, Not Just Leaning Over In Your Chair

Synchronicity is a funny animal.  Just when you think that you’re the only one out there in the wilderness being chased by the “hungry beasties” you talk to someone or read something or someone makes an off-hand comment to you and you suddenly realize that no, you are not the only chimpanzee fleeing across the savannah looking for a tree to scamper up as you escape the leopard in an attempt to solve today's most pressing problem (being lunch or being depressed).

The most recent topic that I’m seeing lately with many people is that of being in a slump (so it wasn't just and only me being a little morose and looking for a tree to climb up and hide in).  The most common area may be work.  The issue with a slump in your job or profession is that unless you you’re updating and floating your resume on a daily basis you are basically stuck at that job for a while and must deal with whatever it is that is haunting you.  A slump (or depression) over family can be the same, your being fully committed to being there as you can't simply run and hide from personal relationships.

Being in a slump therefore can indeed be that of leaning over in your chair with your head lolling on your chest and drooling as you contemplate your place in the universe; hopefully not on the bottom rung.  In the Budo-verse however, a slump should be considered as developing a depressed attitude commonly exhibited by a decrease in your performance in the dojo. 

It can cause you to lose confidence in your abilities and keep you from your natural level of performance; this, in addition to leaving you with an intense desire to sit at home binge-watching bad martial arts movies (knew I shouldn’t have bought that new internet streaming service package, so much temptation and they're playing a Bruce Lee 12 hour marathon tonight). 

Your skill sets begin to resemble those of a three-toed sloth and working with beginners becomes a mood swing pushing you into looking for a corner to crawl into like an old hound dog as you consume an entire barrel of bad sake followed by a serious contemplation of seppuku and who you can tag to be your second.

In extreme cases, it can cause one to stop training entirely and resign from the dojo because one tiresome, weary, and unsatisfactory keiko snowballs and leads into the next and the next until all the keiko run together into a blur of frustration and boredom.  One day you find yourself considering a new career as either a door-to-door toilet brush salesman or buying a food truck and selling street tacos and flat beer.

Every Sensei I came up under, or Sempai I followed, explained it as everything from, “You’ve been pushing too hard and have temporarily burned out so take a breath”, or “It’s just a difficult kata so keep at it”, or “It’s all in your head.  Just get your zanshin in order and get back on the mat”.

Well, all those ideas may indeed be the case and the offered solutions may actually help you wade through it; although one may argue what portion of any opinion or idea given is the prime reason.  As many things in life are wont to be, there generally is more than one cause or reason behind a slump.

Remember that even Sensei who run dojo and who teach can have the same slump or loss of “fighting spirit” (or Yamato Damashi, spirit of the Japanese) that to a true Budoka becomes nothing more than a temporary decrease in training momentum; a “slump” essentially.  My Sensei used to tell me that being in a slump can be real or not real and that it can have a positive side to it.  That a better way to look at it was to think of the emotions the slump brings forth as more likely being over-trained (as-in training too hard and too fanatically) or hitting a plateau (thinking that we are not advancing at all or as fast as we’d like to) and that all of that should be looked at as nothing more than part of your training and overall advancement; part of the emotional side of learning or dealing with the frustrations of not making personal goals “on schedule” that every high-achiever must face at some point.  Arnold Palmer, the great golf champion described the game of golf (or by extension Aikido) as being “…. deceptively simple and endlessly complicated …. “ and went on to say that “Success in this game depends less on strength of body than strength of mind and character."

So long-term success in the dojo and on the mat becomes an effort to remember that you don’t give up and you study a little harder or a little more consistently or longer and eventually, your brain wraps itself around the principles and momentum rebuilds as your practice becomes successful and advances once again.

Becoming a world class martial artist is the idea of embracing a measure of patience every time you step on the mat.  This means that you must begin to understand your emotions and mood swings as being a natural part of life and of training and your not allowing any swing, no matter how wide or deep it may be, to interfere with your overall forward progress.  Remember that long-term success is just that …. long term.

Hitting a slump and quitting just isn’t the way; nor is a negative response to over-training or plateauing.

My entire life on the mat I have heard innumerable Sempai say that for good or for bad, your personality comes out.  I believe that it’s not just your personality alone, but also your ability to understand your current mood(s) and your ability to mitigate your mood swings.  If things are going well in your career, family issues, love life, health, finances, neighbors, and everything else that makes our existence either fun or frustrating, then your training will naturally go smoothly and remain on course and satisfying.  If any one of those possible causations go awry, then it's downhill from there unless we recognize it (as part of life) and accommodate it as a part of who we are as a human and as a person, and by looking forward to a more positive swing at some point.

Going to class.  Working thru’ thru frustrations and personal disappointment(s) is the way and over time (with a little patience) will make you a world class Budoka.  You may not become Mushashi or Obi-wan but you might get pretty close and when that day comes, you will be shocked at how easy everything has “suddenly” become and you’ll be overjoyed that you did not submit to those emotions all those years ago that whispered in your ear “You can’t do this anymore.  Time to hang it up and go to Happy Hour”.

Remember that once you willingly submit to the negative and walk out of the dojo, it can be incredibly difficult to walk back in; that is the power of the negative and the reason to not allow it to control you.  Think long-term and where you may want to be 20 years from now and don’t allow today to have that negative impact that many fall prey to..

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

September 11, 2019

162. Saved By Zero

No. I don’t mean the song but instead, how to avoid being noticed in a crowd.  Ever notice that some people seem to dress not for success (like in the book) but instead to stick out of the crowd as far as possible and to be noticed?  If not then you need to go talk to Sensei about working on your zanshin (awareness in all directions) and learn situational awareness.

When in crowds (shopping at the mall or in a sports bar) or large groups of people (like a football game or a concert) “sticking out” and being so noticeable that no one can “not” see you may not be the great idea of the day.  Pickpockets, small groups of miscreant troublemakers, the random “two drunk guys with a bad attitude” tend to look for someone that is easily seen and noticed, who catches their attention, and who is not just blending in with everyone else.  Blending in could and should be looked upon as a form of military or warrior camouflage, such as blending into the background like an antelope trying to avoid being seen by the cougar.

When I started martial arts in 1969 it was with a fresh-faced innocence and a totally open mind.  Like most of my generation, I had been raised on Bruce Lee in the tv series “Green Hornet” (“Hey Kato, get the car!”) along with steady doses of The Pink Panther who had his own Kato for comic relief (“NoooooOOO Kato, Not Now!), and David Carradine in the tv series “Kung Fu” (“When you can take the pebble……”) so bottom line, I wanted to be like them and as a real "newbie" white belt, all excited and such, I wanted to share my excitement and maybe a little of that pride the new guys sometimes have.  After lessons from Sensei and other very senior ranks I reconsidered and tried to learn from my elders.  Concepts such as humility, avoiding problems, staying in the background and not having long, loud discussions with belligerents arguing about what will and won't work on the street began to make a lot more sense than they did my first month in the dojo.

I liked the ideas of humility and avoiding unnecessary issues and in my mind the whole idea of “blending in” fit those ideas.  Then one day Sensei made some conversation about the idea of not sticking out and attracting problems just based on how you look, and he gave us some ideas of what that means in the practical sense.  Such ideas included:

Our mental attitude.  That is, watch and notice others but don’t stare.  Many people who are insecure, who have overly prideful attitudes, or feel like they must defend themselves in front of their peer group, may take offense at being stared at and just might walk over to mention that to you in a rude and direct fashion.  Be "not there" and don’t push-out your emotions.  Act like an experienced senior martial artist by thinking and acting like you are a ghost they can't see.

Not telling people that you train in martial arts.  To this day none of my clients or neighbors know my training, my rank, or that I own and run a dojo.  They don't need to know so it avoids a lot of unnecessary conversation.

The physical appearance can attract the unwanted.  Wear clothes that fit the season or the occasion and that don’t blatantly portray wealth.  The wife of a former client that I worked with years ago almost had her hand chopped off.  She was fond of wearing some real “bling” on all ten fingers and loved the gaudy diamond rings her husband bought her.  One day she was accosted by two men who demanded all her jewelry and when she couldn’t get all the rings off they threatened to literally cut off her hand.  She finally took off skin as she jerked the rings off so today luckily, she can still hold a cold beer in one hand and a cigar in the other.

Consider how you advertise your personal interests and activities.  There is a meme out there in “Social Media Land” that has one picture of a guy wearing a shirt that is plain and without any verbiage or pictures and the caption reads, “MMA/BJJ Black Belt”.  The second picture shows a guy wearing a t-shirt that has pictures of men fighting and the shirt says, “Tap Out or Break” and the caption under that one reads, “MMA/BJJ White Belt”.  The captions show the difference between a beginner and an experienced player and additionally shows how to avoid that stranger walking up and saying, “So you think you’re tough?” and, it also shows the classic idea of public humility and not advertising what you know or do.

Many people don’t think about their vehicle.  While following political campaigns may be a fun leisure activity, bumper stickers are only guaranteed to insult and infuriate half the population of the universe.  During the last election for POTUS half the country voted for one candidate and the other voted for the other (candidate).  So bottom line, no matter who your bumper sticker supports, you are just about guaranteed to offend half of the people who walk by your parked car or pass in traffic.  Can you say “Road Rage” or "loud discussion in the parking lot"?

So, think about camo whether that camo is outward (clothing, jewelry, transportation) or inward (mental attitude, words, actions).  It just might make you “invisible” enough to avoid that potential problem that is walking around out there looking for someone to go off on like a bomb.

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

August 20, 2019

161. Pardon Me

Reigei.  Reishiki.  Bow-on.  Bow-off.  Domo Arigato.  Sumimasen.  Onegaishimasu.  Gokorosuma Deshita.

Etiquette runs rampant in a classical or a koryu-oriented dojo.  Everything from how you approach the front door, to how you enter and bow to the Shinza and then the Sensei (or the joseki), to how you get permission to enter or leave the mat is proscribed and dictated.  How you dress and how you wear it is set out and not to be disregarded.

In this day of blatant rudeness and crude behavior, learning, understanding, and automatically following basic rules of etiquette will do nothing to hurt and everything to help communication and avoidance of violent conflict, and promote a positive training environment.

Most middle and upper socio-economic classes have little to no understanding of what a “beat down” is.  A beat down is commonly seen in economically depressed communities where personal and family honor is possibly the only true “possession” someone has.  They may not have a great job, or any job at all and they may live hand-to-mouth but they do have their personal position in the community, their pride, and their honor.  It is known as an “honor society” and to insult that honor by a personal slight, an unkind word, or an action, is to damage that person’s honor with a violent reaction quickly following.  Generally, that reaction which is intended to “recover” their honor and maintain their position in that social group consists of a physical beating that re-establishes the honor lost, and also re-confirms the relation of the two parties (relative to each other) in the communities’ social structure.

Etiquette in a martial society (such as the ancient Samurai social structure) is designed to function much the same; the primary difference being that the insult could result in instant death since that social/military/governing structure is for warfare.  Unnecessarily drawing (or even the threat or verbalization of reaching for) any weapon for example is automatically assumed to be for conflict that would by definition could result in the death of one or the other.

In modern dojo misbehavior can and should be interpreted as the precursor to a challenge or a physical attack, esp. if the offender is someone that is relatively new to the mat and whose behavioral patterns are not clear.  While “dojo storming” is no longer common as it once was, every once in a while someone will come in and decide at some point that they want to “test the waters” or question the teachings.  Good etiquette will not stop that attitude but in many cases, following (or not following) good Samurai/warrior etiquette can be the indicator of someone who seriously wants to train and to learn and to be a trustworthy training partner who will not deliberately or carelessly hurt you ……….. or not. 

For the senior ranks, being able observe and act upon that indicator of good manners and proper attitude can be invaluable in stopping problems before they develop, or acting quickly when required.  There is after a valid reason as to why when you start kata or randori, each bows to the other in mutual respect and regard for what is about to transpire, and why each looks at the others feet or lowers the eyes and doesn’t stare at the face of the other as-if preparing to jump.

Many modern dojo have, in an ill-thought intent to make the mat more “inviting” and “less intimidating” (called "marketing") have largely dropped most etiquette and even proper attire requirements.  While this may increase short-term enrollment as they roll in the door wearing spandex and acting as if they are walking into the gym, this lack of decorum only results in attracting people who have no real desire to train over the long term and who do not take what you are sharing and teaching in a serious enough manner.

At high levels, very advanced material that can be dangerous to train should be taught, both for a complete education in the ryu and for street effectiveness, but if the student population largely acts as if they are at a party playing “grab-ass” then injuries can occur.

Likewise, dressing properly can help develop the proper training attitude.  Known in psychology circles as “enclothed cognition” it builds a serious Samurai attitude that can make for mutual respect, mutual safety when training, and becoming competent with the material.

All-in-all the best way to summarize the idea of good etiquette being observed would be to say, “If you are going to become Samurai or a Bushi and learn old flow martial arts, then you should dress and act like one”.

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

July 2019

160. Why Wouldn't You

A tendency in the Budo-verse is sometimes seen in mid-level ranks.  Understand that in my mind mid-level ranks are 5th, 6th, and sometimes 7th Dan which are the first three tiers in the promotional dan-i ranks; first tier being 1, 2, 3, & 4 dan and second tier being 5, 6, 7, & 8 dan.  By the time someone has made 8th dan, they "should" be over this tendency; sometimes not (but they really should be as the impact of thousands of hours on the mat and years on the calendar take effect).

As we learn more, as our fundamentals smooth out, as we begin to really .... Really ..... understand our art form, and as we are able to do "magical" things (not really magical per se but just highly advanced movement done so smoothly that we make it look so easy that it looks magical) we may tend to believe that we have the answer as to how best to continue our training, and that is "more of the same".  After all, it's worked to get me here so more of the same should take me even further.

In Tomiki Ryu Aikido we have a few base sets that teach principles and beginning randori.  From there, the player moves into what the ryu labels "koryu kata" or Aikido kata sets of anywhere from 16 to 57 waza lumped together that show and teach direct relationships to Daito Ryu Aikijutsu and what is commonly referred to as "Internal Power".  After the player makes higher rank they will have been through all these kata sets (beginning and advanced) so many times that they become really good.  However, like all players, they want to be even better than that so they conclude (not totally incorrectly mind you) that having been through the entire Tomiki system and having become a really powerful player that the best way to move on from there and become even more powerful ..... is to do "more of the same" over and over and over.

One player I trained with many years back was famous for his lessons on what a Tomiki player knows as "The 1st Release Motion"; a movement that teaches fundamental principles, has applicability to kata and effective self-defense.  He was a senior player at 7th dan but every time he was asked to teach a class lesson he always taught that 1st release.  If asked about self-defense then here came a lesson on the 1st release.  If asked about how best to train in advanced kata then here came another lesson on the 1st release.

Another senior player became fascinated with series of techniques dealing with attacks where the attacker grabbing the defender by the wrist and the back of the collar.  So every time he was asked to teach a lesson then here came another look at "wrist & collar".  Self-defense?  Wrist & collar.  Important lessons in kuzushi and breaking down the attacks structure?  Wrist & collar.

While the 1st release and wrist & collar are indeed important (if not critical) aspects of our training, they are not the "only" aspects that all players must learn and eventually become proficient in.  They are only small aspects of the larger picture and to in effect permanently dwell on them will stunt and slow the overall growth of that senior player.  He will fall into the trap of seeing only trees, and not the forest.

A senior player at some point must recognize that all principles are the same.  It may not seem that way when we first start training as a white belt but eventually we should grow into understanding the quote that is attributed to Ueshiba and Tomiki both, and very likely to Kano also; that is, "I don't do technique.  I only do principle because it is all the same" (very loosely paraphrased).

Body movement off the line of attack, taking control of the attacker's off-balance, dominating center line, and breaking down their structure before you flatten them into the floor or cut them with the sword, is/should be the same whether it is against a punch or jab, leg kick, knife attack, or pistol disarming.  Understanding that they are "all the same" should have the effect of freeing the senior player from eternal repetitions of the 1st release or wrist & collar, and enabling them to study other ideas that make use of the same fundamental and universal principles of Budo/Bushido.

So now the question should become and indeed is, "Why wouldn't You" study pistol disarming, knife vs. knife fighting, high level strangulation-style neck locks, some newaza?  If the principles can be shown to universally apply across different combative platforms, then why not expand your study and learn to truly apply those principle universally?

In my mind, a good question to ask yourself.  Life can be considered too very short but I don't see any valid reason to do only the 1st release motion and wrist & collar forever.

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

June 2019