The Thoughtful Sensei-Aikido Musings

182. I Wanna’ Be 85th Galactic Dan

The world turns, times change, nothing stays the same, 2 steps forward and 3 steps back, and turn in circles.  Sometimes change is not progress and certainly not for the better.

Lately I’ve been noticing blogs by other Sensei and dojo about a decrease in promotional standards aggravated by an increase in big-time promotions, so this must be the new thingie’ in Budo-politics, a new fad maybe, all trendy and such, kinda’ like hair styles.  However, I can sadly tell you is that it’s actually nothing new and has been around for a while, decades maybe if not longer; certainly as long as I’ve been around.

With that said and as jaded as I am sometimes even I can be surprised by a blog such as the one I read recently which said that a high rank went inactive from his organization for a time and when he came back to re-start training they apparently said, “Buddy, friend, hey guy, alright-alright, welcome back, good to have you ……. but we’re dropping your re-entry rank by a few so even though you still know the material we’re just going to punish you for …… whatever.  Just look at it as character building as you learn that humility we keep talking about to the white belts.”

I’ve been around on the mat for about 50 years now and that was the first time I’d heard that one for a couple of reasons.  First, I wouldn’t be surprised by a bill for the missed time in not paying membership fees (but this was way beyond that) and second, why did the guy accept being busted in rank?  Neither I nor most of the people I know would take that from anyone as it is an insulting slap in the face and clearly shows that the organizations standards weren’t that quality-based to begin with.  And third, the last time I heard of anything like that was when someone was required to resign (read: forced out involuntarily, hit the highway buddy, get lost).  In that case he was not allowed to rejoin and not only his membership, but all his rank was effectively cancelled, the demand was made to return all his certificates and scrolls, which of course made him a true ronin in the classic sense.

What do you say to a group in any martial art that basically promotes (or “un-promotes”) based on whether you take a hiatus from training?  Doesn’t that mean that they don’t actually have standards at all and instead promote based on who you are, or how much money you pay, or who’s in charge this week, or did you do something they didn’t like such as asking out the Sensei’s best girl on a date?  After all, you knew the material when you were originally promoted to “whatever dan” so did you somehow forget everything since then as if you never knew it to begin with?  And if so, then why were you promoted back then, thus necessitating the downgrade today?

What I’ve normally seen in the ‘verse of entropic budo (as the classical traditions are lost) was how my old organization handled it; both the initial high requirements for promotion and then the degradation of standards that came later.  When I first joined as a “nothing belt” I was given a list of promotional requirements which included both the required time in grade (actively training mind you and not just holding up the wall) and the technical standards to be performed.  One of those was that to make Yondan I had to know all the kata including basic, intermediate, and advanced.  When I say all then I mean all.  I had to literally know the entire system including all the Koryu work, and all rank beyond that was based upon increasing levels of ability, deepening understanding of life, the universe, and everything, along with teaching experience. 

I guess one could call that “Dynamic Promotional Performance”, or in other words you already know the technical requirements of the entire ryu but now you must demonstrate increasing levels of expertise every time you step on the mat to do an embu or teach a lesson and, do it consistently at that high level over a very long period of time.  This standard was almost like judging in gymnastics where they score on both your historical performance and your putting on a good show today in order to prove that you’re not simply a flash in the pan; that long term consistency proving up your comprehension and deep understanding and ability in the fundamentals.

At some point in the entropy of the universe (and the standards of my old organization that I eventually resigned from) all that changed.  People began to be promoted by what member dojo they came from, who their Sensei was, how long they had been practicing (or not practicing at all) and whether the Kaicho (head of the organization) liked them. 

Money came into play as I was told by one of my deshi (students) of his friend in another state (also in my old organization) who had stopped training 2 or 3 years back but was told it was now time for him to be promoted to the next higher rank for the small but tidy sum of several hundred dollars.  Obviously, the promotion was based on “time hanging around” and writing that check (damn, if only I had known that good handwriting would get me there faster I would have spent more time practicing my cursive).  As a friend and fellow Sensei I currently know and train with described it, “He (the Kaicho) became a merchant and forgot he was Samurai class”.  Money just corrupts so many things and needing to make a car payment is not a good excuse.

The other issue that arose and that played a part in my eventual resignation was the day that a 6^th dan in a karate school applied for membership in the organization.  He was immediately promoted to 6^th dan in Aikido under the guise of “Anyone who reaches 6^th dan in any martial art is also 6^th dan in Aikido because the principles of all martial arts are the same across the board”. 

No mention made of actually “knowing” the kata or the technical standards came into this transaction or that some karate principles may differ from some Aikido principles, only that he (karate Sensei) had multiple dojo in his business model with a few dozen students and that my Aikido Sensei could enroll all the karate students in his organization and promote them.  Can you smile and say, “Lots of membership and promotional fees to take care of?"  Well …… I thought you could.

The moral here is that as organizations and their management age, things can change and at some point, you may have to decide.  In my case I had already reached 7^th dan before the creeping degradation of standards and of reaching for the Yen (and the dollar) became too outrageous.  Younger players, not knowing what I had witnessed over my 25 or so years with that organization stayed and, in some cases, they were promoted on actual knowledge and ability since they were honestly committed to the study.  Others rose in rank to ridiculously high dan levels with no real or true ability shown with the resultant underlying conflict between the two groups raring it’s ugly head on occasion.

So if you decide at some point to reach for 85^th Galactic Dan (and get your lifetime membership in the “Obi of the Month Club”) then now you know how to do it.  Just go look for that “special” Budo organization and be sure that you have your checkbook sticking out of your shirt pocket so that they can see it when you walk in the door.  However, don’t expect the rest of us to do anything but bust you down in rank if you want to join a real Budo organization and we happen to be sitting in the admissions office.  After all, there are more legitimate rationales for “de-promoting” someone other than simply taking a vacation.

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

December 15,2021

206. Come On, You Can Trust Me

Many times over the years the question has arisen of "why reishiki" (why so much emphasis on ritualized manners) as seen in Old School dojo.

When I first began training many (too many it seems sometimes) years ago I and everyone else simply followed along and, I might add, felt very "Samurai-ish" for doing so. Most dojo of all types used some form of courtesy, manners, or ritualized greetings of each other after walking into the dojo to train. Over the years however much of this has been lost other than in the most traditional of dojo.

Most dojo as far back as hundreds of years ago used strictly formed and shaped courtesies (reishiki). This included bowing to the Shinza when entering the dojo, then bowing to the Joseki and the Sensei, then bowing before stepping onto the mat, then bowing into class, then bowing to Sensei when he gave the lesson, then bowing to the training partner both before starting and then ending the keiko, then bowing out of class, bowing off the mat, and bowing out of the dojo when leaving. It also included calm behavior and tone of voice and cooperative attitude and in modern social terms, no discussing of sex, religion, or politics. You are there to train and learn and not debate or argue.

So the question comes up ...... "Why?".

After many years of training and teaching, I finally stumbled across and read old papers out of several books on Bushido that gave and confirmed the answer that I had already arrived at years before ..... that is ..... since we are training in techniques, tactics, and strategies that could if fully applied result in serious injury or death we need to have and to train in what could be termed a "High Trust" environment. This High Trust environment both provides a comfortable atmosphere and also increases learning since stress creates fear which retards the educational process since you spend time looking over your shoulder as it were. Over time, the reishiki becomes a natural part of who you are as a martial artist and a Budoka.

People can get frustrated, angry, (a possible product of a "bad day") or overly stressed and energetic and throwing too fast or hard, or over-applying joint locks so using a highly formalized system of ritualized manners and behaviors is the most effective way in which to keep all those bad ideas at bay. In this fashion our training partner can trust us to protect him, and he in turn protects us. Basically, I can "give" him my body for training and know that he will not deliberately harm me.

In recent years and with the advent of sports martial arts, these ideas have fallen into disuse or forgotten altogether. In some cases no bowing is seen at all or if still used looks somewhat like a kid bobbing for apples at the spring party. Sometimes they might shake hands before slamming their training partner into the center of the earth, winning the match, and then jumping up and down like a kangaroo while screaming "I'm the best"; not a productive attitude in an activity that is often billed as character building. This lack of teaching and using formalized manners that over time creates a better human being has today become one of the differences between Koryu (Old School) martial arts which includes a study of the differences between life and death, and sports martial arts in which trophies may be pursued.

This is a thought to carry forward and to understand in your study. Once you are fully accustomed to the reishiki and understand the rationales, it becomes a welcome part of your keiko (deep and serious training) and is no longer that mysterious Japanese "thing" that it seemed when you first began the journey of Bushido.

Originally Published March 22, 2024

203. Put Your Nose Into the Wind and Climb

For your consideration ....... training in Bushido and your chosen martial art form (for me that's Tomiki Ryu Aiki-Jujutsu and the koryu combat school of SMR Jojutsu) is a lifetime path. I started in high school in the late 1960's and find myself some 50 years later still training and still running a dojo.

 

Now at age 71 (72 if you count your gestation as an extra year as the Japanese do) I likely have at least another 10 years to go on the mat, maybe 15 or 20, who can know for certain.

 

That means that if my luck holds, I could have a total of 60 to 70 years on the mat. Or put another way, if I consider that a full training phase is about 20 years or so, then I will have passed through 3 full 20-year phases during my life.

 

The 20-year idea is about how long it should take to start training and then reach 6th Dan or 7th Dan or so; that rank being the rank at which you should know every technical aspect and kata for your system, being fully functional in all, and have the beginnings of a complete and deep understanding of the more spiritual, esoteric, and philosophical aspects of it all.

 

20 years is about one-third of the way through that time span of 60 or so years which means that the first third of the journey is to learn the basics (and internalize them) meaning that the journey to learn what Bushido and Aiki-jujutsu is truly about, in a deep philosophical fashion, starts in earnest at about the 20 year point with the important ideas still remaining to be discovered and explored.

 

Climbing a mountain would be an example. Walking towards the highest point (the summit) the climber is able to see further and further out, acquire a feel for how everything changes the closer to the top he gets, such as the forest gradually changing to tundra, and then rocky peaks. As he continues the upward journey he sees more and more and can see further and further and theoretically gain a fuller understanding of the mountain itself.

 

The rub here is that if the climber stops at any point, then he is missing what comes next and should he never reach the summit then he will not enjoy the complete vision nor will he be able to savor the joy of all the efforts expended in reaching it, the journey being the important part of it all, more so than the actual goal.

 

Tragically, all too many times during this climb he thinks that he has reached the summit and stops and becomes satisfied with what little he has found. And sometimes he deludes himself into thinking that he has arrived and simply does not know what he does not know.

 

The moral to this story is simply that of never stopping the climb and most especially never assuming the uneducated position of assuming that there is no more hill to climb and no more to learn; which in and of itself can create a form or arrogance (aka "I know it all").

 

Look at the journey as a long-term journey of learning and not a one-time course. After all, it's your life and not a semester at university. Life goes on while that semester will certainly come to an end.

 

L. F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudon

Houston, TX

October 24,2023

201. Hey! Whats That On Your Shelf?

Once upon a time there was a monk without any eyelids who was sitting in a cave and his arms and legs fell off, and when someone asked him what he was doing he replied, "Listening to the ants scream".

I don't know about you, but I'd be looking for the way out of the cave at that point.

It's a funny story but one repeated often in certain Zen and martial arts circles, the story of Bodhidharma and the basis for the Daruma Doll. On the front of the doll is kanji that literally reads to have “eyes open” -- a subtle nod to the Daruma Doll’s Buddhist roots referencing enlightenment and the person the Daruma Dolls are based on.

Daruma Dolls are based on a monk named Bodhidharma who lived in the 5th-6th century. He was known to be highly dedicated to meditation and austerity, which helped grow his reputation. Like many religious/spiritual figures in history, there is the historical person and the folklore that grows bigger with every repetition.

One story is that Bodhidharma spent 9 years facing a cave wall in deep meditation with his eyes wide open, never blinking. His striving for enlightenment was so intense that his arms, legs, and body atrophied and fell by the wayside but his spirit remained firm. Because of this parable, Bodhidharma grew in popularity through all of Asia and finally in Japan. He’s also credited for introducing Zen Buddhism, Zazen meditation, and green tea. 

The doll has two eyes, both without pupils. The idea is to decide upon a desire or goal, paint in the left eye, and then when the goal has been accomplished paint in the other eye. Once both eyes have been painted in signifying the accomplishment, then the doll is taken to a temple to be burned so that the spirit of the doll may be released. To be honest though, even after I have achieved the goal and paint in the second eye, I keep the doll on my office shelf as a reminder of what perseverance can accomplish; and I have more than more one.

In life, we all tend to set a goal and look up one day, possibly years later, having not only not reached the goal, but maybe not even remembering having set it. A function of the Daruma Doll is to serve as a reminder of the goal and its' eventual attainment.

We have recently adopted the idea of giving a doll to every new deshi with the suggestion of setting as their personal goal that of being promoted to black belt. Then, once they reach 1st degree (Shodan), we give them a second Daruma Doll with the suggestion of reaching the end of the 1st tier of dan ranks and being ready to start work into the 2nd tier. A little known rank organization in Aikido is that Shodan through Yondan is the 1st tier (basically lower ranking black belts) and Godan and up is the 2nd tier or senior instructor/Sensei ranks.

While life is known for getting in the way of our life-goals with some things simply being out of our control (what's that saying .... accept what you can't change) making a personal goal and commitment to yourself is important. It's one thing to break a promise made to someone else but it's entirely different when we break a promise made to ourselves.

Part of training in Bushido and part of becoming a Bushi (warrior) is learning to set goals and develop life organization and personal discipline to reach (that goal). Failure to do so can negatively influence our opinion of ourselves (at a deeper level) and hinder our reaching our full potential in life.

L. F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

September 20, 2023

 

200. It Comes With The Job

Taken for granted. Have you ever felt taken for granted.

 

It's completely normal you know. Open a dojo and start holding classes. Over years of operations everyone just gets used to the dojo always being there,and classes being available on a dependable schedule.

 

Don't want to train 'cause you have to meet the gang at Happy Hour? No problem, the dojo will be there.

 

Don't want to train 'cause you have to mow the yard. No problem, the dojo will always be there.

 

Tired and just want to surf the couch tonight. No problem.

 

Got errands to run. No problem. The dojo is there, will always be there, and I can drop in and train any time I want.

 

Well, maybe it will .... and maybe it won't ..... be there that is.

 

Sensei are human and are only here for a while as are we all ... until we (and they) are not. The dojo itself, since it is run by the Sensei, are also here for a while ... and then it is also gone. Old age, illness, creeping decrepitude, sometimes economic issues, and eventually death appear in the picture at some point.

 

Every Sensei who has been on the mat for a while and who has dedicated some portion of their life to promulgating the system that they teach is acutely aware of these aspects of life in general; especially if they teach an older or specialized form of the ryu or are teaching an actual and recognized koryu. Sport Karate and things such as BJJ or "self-defense classes" are pretty much a dime a dozen and if one dojo closes, a dozen more spring up to replace it since what they teach is fairly common.

 

However, if a koryu form is involved then it is entirely possible that part/most/all of what is being taught is old, not widely available, and cannot be replaced. That is, it was founded perhaps hundreds of years ago and may include work that is not well known, that originated as part of an other old system and has been subsumed (with that other system now gone and lost) or that has work that includes unique teaching pedagogues (teaching drill sets) that enhance learning and retention of the old forms.

 

And as regards not replaceable, it is a simple truth that the societal, cultural, economic, and military/law and order conditions that any old ryu was created to deal with no longer exists. As an example, since no one duels with swords on a daily basis, how would Shindo Muso Ryu Jojutsu (or Niten Ichi Ryu Kenjutsu instance) be recreated since the ryu was formed as a response to Musashi (long dead some 400+ years). Or Daito Ryu Aikijujutsu for that matter, especially since BJJ, Kickboxing, and Sport Karate are currently all the rage and the need for a secret court martial art that is privately taught to only a select few by personal transmission is no longer common.

 

So what is to be done if a Sensei teaches what essentially is an irreplaceable ryu but sees the need to preserve it. How does that happen. How does he save a martial art that was built on the battlefield for one-on-one conflict and that paradoxically is today more practical than carrying around military-style firearms or even a small sidearm with a carry permit that have limited use in most situations.

 

He trains his replacement in the same fashion as he was trained; by his predecessor, who was trained by his predecessor, who was trained ..... well you get the idea. This is how you (You) ended up studying a 450 year old martial art form or perhaps a slightly more recent (maybe "only" two hundred or so years old) but still a deeply built form every bit as complex and sophisticated (such as Daito Ryu Aikijutsu).

 

So this links back to the idea of "I can train anytime because Sensei and the dojo will always be there". Maybe.

 

In a very real sense Sensei is training his replacement at every class. Whether or not you personally are training specifically to be his replacement is immaterial. Remember that no Sensei or Dojo Cho (head of training hall) started out to become the person that runs the shop. Instead, he just got interested in the work and trained and one day looked up, had the seniority and knowledge, and opportunity and simply stepped into the position of either being the #1 guy or, being a support person behind him.

 

There is an old saying that goes, "Every Sensei out there opened a dojo in order to keep training". That is so very true. At some point you become so high ranked that you can't change dojo because you will likely find that you know more than the other guy and probably outrank him; the issue being that "everyone" seems to take 6 months of classes, buys a DVD, and opens a dojo or refuses to put in the decades of work necessary to honestly reach a Shihan or Hanshi level. So at that point you either retire from martial arts training or completely change art forms (from Aikido to Kick Boxing for example). Then there's the problem of your aging out and wanting to still train but not at a competition dojo against kids in their 20's or 30's.

 

So the gist of this is that to maximize your opportunity to learn what could be an arcane art form that could disappear one day, you train as often as you can and by doing so you increase the odds that the ryu continues and that one day either you or one of your training partners could be "That Guy" .... the one who continues the ryu and passes it forward, the benefit of which is that you to get to "keep training".

 

L. F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

September 11, 2023

199. How Did He Do That

Over the last five decades of my training in martial arts I’ve observed that promotions are one of the big events in a dojo, in a students’ life, and their career in Bushido.

Aside from the sense of personal accomplishment that the deshi feels upon being promoted, the promotion itself brings a certain sense of pride and accomplishment to the entire dojo if considered from the aspect that everyone in the dojo has at one time or another been their training partner.

The first thought that goes through their mind is, "Well, if so-and-so can do it then so can I because I've been training with him". Then the second thought may be, "He did that kata really well and I helped him learn it because over the last few weeks that is what he and I have been working together on, so in a way I can take a little credit for his success".

Both of these are completely true, but they leave out the important part which is how the newly promoted deshi actually did it and while it sounds trite it is in all actuality true; that is, "They Did The Work". They went to class on a regular basis, trained, put in extra time with their training partner, and learned what needed to be learned.

So many times, we see someone who has only half-hardheartedly focused on the next promotion and while they are learning and progressing, their way forward is slower than it could (or should) be. They may get upset at not being "auto promoted" but once they understand the requirements for the rank they are working towards things tend to smooth out, esp. as the other deshi provide encouragement.

Promotions (and the attending demo) have so many positives that anyone who runs a dojo should require demos for certain ranks, esp early black belt ranks. If properly done then it shouldn't become a difficult or scary thing for the promotional candidate and it can serve to get the entire dojo behind them. In effect, it builds a form of "Team Dojo" spirit that everyone benefits from.

More (most) senior black belt ranks (such as 4th Dan and up) don't necessarily have formal "demo requirements" per se but are actually more stringent in their requirements. The candidate must not only know (and show) technical proficiency in larger portions of the overall curriculum but must show the ability to explain in-depth knowledge of the concepts and principles. This ability is illustrated by the "work product"; e.g., the junior students that he has been teaching.

Since the work product is the real factor under review then it becomes impossible to have a public demo of the promotional candidate conducting a teaching lesson or having the junior ranks demo instead (as a form of review of the work product). So, a study and observation of the candidate within the normal dojo class environment over the long term becomes the means by which the final promotional evaluation is eventually made.

Also a part of this overall decision to promote is a recognition that no candidate is fully prepared for that promotion. Instead, they are judged as being close enough with the anticipation of their growing into the rank. Another way in which to consider it is to acknowledge that no one is really at 100% of all the requirements but is deemed functional in all areas with the expectation of long-term improvement.

Are promotions sometimes granted without the candidate having a full awareness of all the technical and teaching and philosophical aspects? Certainly. Being able to conduct normal business management tasks and teaching support of the dojo (in cases such as Sensei being ill or out of town and that person taking over classes) means the dojo stays open that week and everyone stays excited and goes to train. Not every candidate for senior rank has the financial ability to pour money into the bank, but taking classes, teaching and supporting the deshi, illustrating the fundamentals, then showing emotional support to the deshi so that they continue to train and learn what many times can be frustrating material can be more important than simply writing a check; which for some becomes an all too easy substitute for doing the work.

Is everyone truly ever "ready" for that next big promotion? Not in the least. Remember that if you wait until the candidate is "completely, totally, absolutely" ready then they should actually be considered for the rank beyond that one (and very likely would never make it). To paraphrase Voltaire, "Perfection is the enemy of the good" (one of my Sensei' favorite quotes and I heard it often).

My Sensei had an interesting way to view it. When he promoted me to Nidan he said that I was finally a good Shodan; and of course, when promoted to Sandan he said I was a pretty good Nidan. This was his way of saying that yes, I still have weak areas, still have flaws, and still have improvements to make in how I speak to and relate to junior ranks and how I gauge my strength, power, and focus when working the material; and it clearly said that I had far to go and must expect to "grow into" the rank as my experiences at the new level deepened.

All of these ideas taken together make for a large and complex picture that any Sensei must work to manage. This picture is not simply and only technical but has serious spiritual aspects involved that go well beyond a simple punch list.

Over the years I've seen and heard criticism (some even directed at me) about why someone was promoted (or not) and whether they deserved it or were ready. Lower and less knowledgeable ranks tend to only see things as a two-dimensional photograph, like an old prom photo from high school. You could refer to the process as being 5-dimensional, but it is actually much more than height, breadth, length, width, and time. When you add in the extra dimensions (how well they communicate, average good or bad mood, time each week on the mat, visible commitment, support of the deshi, can they grow into a more mature senior position in spite of where they are "today", etc.) it becomes a complex flow of multi-dimensional energies that are impossible to measure in the Western sense and that only very senior ranks such as the Kancho or Soke are able to see the full dimensions of.

Put another way, the whole is always much greater than the sum of the parts and the whole itself is infinite in its capacity to grow.

Go to class. Train hard. Do the work. Get the promotion. Grow into your full potential.

L. F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

August 17, 2023

196. Time On, Time Off

As we age our perspectives change in the sense that we more carefully consider what did and what did not have importance in how we have lived these many years. We may find ourselves counting the days, months, years doing something with that something being marriage, how long we've spent time in the gym or at the dojo, how long we've had a particular job. What we count can vary of course based on our life choices.

So the question becomes, why do we not count time off? Why do we not count the days and the weeks off during which we did nothing but relax? And should we (count time off) or not? I for one would suspect that counting time off isn't much done for the simple reason that deep down in the inner recesses of who we are that some part of us understands that time off, the days, weeks, or months of "nothingness", of not putting in the time really isn't helping us learn, grow, progress, or reach that goal we claim to be striving for. In short, they don't count, they aren't helping us, and they aren't the ones (the days, weeks, etc.) that matter. Only activity and positively working forward count for us in the longer term.

When we steady pursue that goal (training in martial arts is the closest example since that is after all what we are talking about here) we slowly build momentum which will give us the opportunity to stay mentally focused, physically healthy, and additionally maintain the relationships we develop through our study. Maintaining momentum also helps in gradually digging into the deeper thoughts behind technique and heiho (strategy) and the relationship between the two.

Some people train every day and allow themselves no time off while others train two to three times a week. Whatever training schedule you pick and how you maintain your personal momentum really doesn't matter as long as you do (maintain it). But remember, the days off don't really count for much of anything other than falling backwards and retarding your path forward.

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

July 18, 2023

 

195. A Wider View

Being the guy (or gal) who runs the dojo doesn't have a whole lot of advantages; long hours, legal and financial obligations, marketing, trying to keep everyone happy, working to vary lesson plans and avoid boredom as much as possible are examples. One clear advantage however (of running the dojo) is that of changing the curriculum and class focus when the mood strikes. Sometimes that mood consists of new training drills to help the beginners, sometimes it might be rolling into a old-new (new-old) kata that no one has seen for lord knows how long, and sometimes it might be something really different and far from the normal keiko.

As an example, our primary kata set is known by several aliases including "Ju Nana Hon", "Randori no Kata", or "The 17 Attack Movements". All beginners are immediately introduced to this work almost from day one and promotion to 1st and 2nd dan is based on an improving ability to show this work. It is foundational with most of the more advanced kata sets being based in large part upon these specific foundational techniques.

We also teach a system of knife fighting that was developed for the military by special operators for survival in the field. One night we had the idea to combine the two and show a larger picture of how Aikido can be the platform upon which one can build. It is a cold reality that if attacked from too close a distance then you (the defender) will be unable to draw any weapon, be it knife, gun, or otherwise which means that you (the defender) will have to intuitively resort to empty hand techniques first (such as The 17 Attack Movements) before reaching for a weapon. They call this the "Tueller Rule" and it is widely discussed and taught in police training circles.

So in class one night we discussed the reality of over-dependence on the weapon being carried, and when to go for it during an attack. In Texas this is very pertinent since so many citizens have concealed carry permits or carry a knife for self-defense (known as EDC or Everyday Carry). Because of this legally granted ability (to carry) combined with a lack of hand-to-hand training, the untrained non-martial artist develops an acute over-reliance on that weapon.

The result was a class session in which everyone put a rubber training knife in their obi and then had their uke attack. Tori the defender had to avoid the attack, do the empty-handed technique, and only after throwing or pinning the attacker pull the knife to finish it.

So this was a spur-of-the-moment that had value but that can only be done if you the Sensei run your own dojo, or are a senior enough Sensei such-that the Dojo-cho/Kancho allows you to do so (in our dojo our most senior people have this level of teaching authority). My old Sensei from years ago would never have allowed any such lesson (unless he himself thought it up) so that freedom of creativity (of hand-to-hand then to knife) came in the form of a very practical drill (based on a well recognized training rule, i.e. Tueller) for an important life lesson.

Another example would be drills in randori or a modification of a basic technique normally taught to beginners or intermediate players as an expanded example of what can be possible. While one may argue that beginners only need to work on the very, very basics the counterargument may be made that exposure to more advanced ideas early on results in developing curiosity about what is to come and offers a different way of doing a basic principle that may improve their current overall understanding.

So basically the ability to be creative (as the Sensei in charge) can result in better lessons, a more open-minded curriculum, and an expanded view of the principles that make everything fit together and actually work.

Your job as the deshi or junior Yudansha is to not become confused when you see something that you've never seen before (sometimes known as the "Whut tha'?" response) but instead, focus and do the work and while doing so consider the larger picture. You may be surprised at how your horizons open and how much "new stuff" you learn.

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

July 7, 2023

193. Branching

As deshi promote upwards to higher ranks a sort of entropy can sometime set in.  Years of doing the same kata (basic, advanced, or otherwise) can create in one’s mind a sort of "over-familiarity" and the idea that not much is left to do, other than to go to the dojo and teach a few beginners before sushi and sake apres' dojo.  Years of this entropic attitude can still keep the deshi active in the dojo but no real advancement in deeper knowledge can be realized.

In my martial career I have always tried and looked for other areas of study to look at. While I began in MA in Tae Kwon Do I found that I needed something more so I gravitated to Kodokan Judo, and then to Aikido.  At some point years ago I found SMR Jodo (the Seitei flavor mind you) and then once introduced to SMR Jojutsu (the Koryu flavor) I changed to that as a fresh study that expanded my view of Budo but also began to answer questions that I didn't really know I had.

Here lately my interests have opened up to our new knife fighting class (a military style built by and for special forces operators) and police tactics (we are developing a small system and now have the opportunity to actively teach law enforcement).

While each of these areas are of interest and are a welcome change of pace from doing the basic Randori no Kata over and over again (no matter how much that work is still important) the real value in branching out comes from the realization that at its most basic level, true principles are universal regardless of what may or may not be in your hand, or no matter whether you take ukemi or not.

While it is true that in the beginning one needs to focus on the learning one's primary system (Aikido in my case) once you have moved beyond basic or intermediate levels and from there into advanced, branching out to look at a complimentary art can be a good thing.  It can enhance fighting skills, and both broaden and deepen your view of Bushido.

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

June 20, 2023

192. Constipation

Taught a lesson in class one day.  A Yudansha got confused and couldn’t follow it.  Had a discussion after.  He finally figured it out with the admission of “If I had only paid attention to the lesson to begin with”.  For him, that was a valuable lesson in and of itself, more important than the actual material being looked at.  So, what happened?

Most if not all of the older, more senior and advanced Sensei have had this experience in their own careers in Bushido; e.g., that of “seeing” too much in the lesson and the topic at hand.

We spend years, decades, learning the work and internalizing the fundamentals, base kata and learning sets, doing intermediate work, advanced work, and then doing the keiko (deep, advanced and highly focused training) of all the variations along with the hiden (secret) ideas of that which is transmitted only verbally (aka direct transmission).  Taken as a whole, that study comprises a very large corpus or body of information to digest and put in its proper place in our conscious and subconscious minds as it is fully internalized, reactions set in place, and the neural pathways built.

The issue arises in that instead of focusing on that one moment and specifically on that lesson being taught, the mind sees the beginning of the lesson and leaps far ahead into variations such as “I could do this” or “I can do this, this, and this instead” or “If I tried that and he reacted then I could do this and this”.

All those variants are coming out of the body of the information already known and well-understood.  Those variants overwhelm and block the receipt of the new information and may even cloud the clarification of any older already known information that is being taught for that lesson albeit from perhaps a different viewpoint.

This blockage (or “constipation” if you like) of the mind occurs as all the variations upon branching decision points to more variations leap to the forefront and hinder paying attention to the specifics and focus of the lesson at hand, making it difficult to understand its meaning and value.  It is only semi-problematic when occurring in the context of normal class and instruction.  It becomes very problematic however when it occurs in self-defense situations.

What to do.  What to do.

It’s called having an empty teacup, or possessing a mind that is not clouded with prior perceptions or beliefs but instead, is open to new learning scenarios like it was a blank slate.  Taking each lesson individually and understanding its place in the corpus does matter

How to have and hold an empty tea cup.

Accept that the ryu already has most of the variations set in place via advanced kata.  Keeping it simple helps as some variations are unproven and not clearly differentiated, other than in the existing kata system.  Learn some internal discipline about focusing on the topic; it is after all not randori.  Then watch the lesson.  Understand the information and viewpoints being shown and discussed for that specific situation.  Do the work, e.g., the repetitions required to understand the lesson.  Focus on one idea at a time and stop trying to “multichannel process”.  Again, keep it simple.  Then and only then look at alternate views after having looked at the pure lesson first and understanding it and only then look at alternate views individually and not as a clump of amorphous shifting ideas.

Constipation can be cleared but first one must know and understand that one “is” constipated and then build the discipline to stop it.  I think that this is called the “mind” part of developing “Mind, Body, Spirit”.

L.F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

April 14, 2023

189. Samurai Chicken

Having been an athlete since grade school where I ran track as a sprinter before getting into playing competitive football through my high school years, I’ve been in weight rooms and gyms my entire life training before eventually moving into dojo and martial arts.  For me and others like me, staying in shape became an obsession literally decades ago which is why, at age 70 (well, if you count gestation like the Japanese it actually makes me 71) I can easily operate like someone 20 years my junior.

Part of that fitness obsession included a lot of research on what could be called “balanced training” such as nutrition, structuring training routines, and discipline (in their application).  That research covered Japanese concepts that eventually led to a tattoo; speaking to balance.  Ever since being inked, I’ve strived to remember the two mottos (here roughly paraphrased) which are; Ningen Keisei (become a complete human being) and Bun Bu Ryo Dou (living a life in balance).

This includes life in the gym, resistance training, working to stay flexible and limber and also includes the same ideas of “balance” in the dojo as I work through the material.

So today I’m in the gym trying to get back to (and stick with) a regular resistance training routine when I look up and in front of me is a guy preparing to run through sets of chest press using dumbbells.  When I do sets of chest press, my working weight is 40 to 45 pounds per dumb bell (or per hand).  He was working with dumb bells that were 70 pounds each and then he pyramided up to 100 pounds in ten-pound increments.  Impressive for someone who was not a pro football player (based on his size) or an obvious power lifter.

He completed the set and stood up from the bench and since he was wearing shorts, I saw them as he rose.  The legs.  The skinny, scrawny, undeveloped legs. The legs that looked like they had never done any lower body work such as free bar squats, or deadlifts.  His legs were smaller than most peoples’ arms.  It was an amazing moment of cognitive dissonance, this exhibit of upper body over-development and lower body neglect.

Times change as does street slang but when I first began hanging out at gyms and focusing on resistance training the nickname for this was “Bar Body”; someone who hyper-developed the chest, arms, and shoulders so-as to impress someone while buying them a drink.  That was the “kinder” term.  The other term, not quite as nice was “Chicken Man” or sometimes “Turkey Legs”; someone who had a large body (like a good size fryer) but who had the skinny leg bones of a bird.  I still remember once knowing a female co-worker who took one of these specimens’ home from a bar one night and couple of days later at the office, she got talkative and said “WTH …. That’s false advertising.  I was cheated”.  All I could do was laugh.

Martial arts and dojo have much the same issue with many deshi as they come up in rank.  They gain rank, improve ability, move forward in understanding, and one day look up and decide that so-and-so kata set is a little too difficult and uninteresting when compared to other kata (that are easier); much like Chicken Man decided somewhere along the way that chest and shoulders were easier than leg day so they’d do the easy and pass by the hard. 

I must admit that I don’t like legs either, much like many gym regulars who have broad and well-thought routines.  Legs are tough to enjoy but if you want a balanced physique then you simply must include a well-rounded leg routine and you must stick with it long term regardless of how difficult it may be to stay with or however slow progress may be.

Likewise, if you want to achieve well-rounded ability in your martial art then you must use a well-rounded routine for training; a little basics, some intermediate work, some advanced work, and maybe some research on the arcana such as the relationship between Buddhism and combative behavior so that you see the subtlety of some of the teachings.  You have to make a regular pass through all the material, even kata sets that may be confusing, difficult, tiring, or whatever because they broaden certain aspects of your study and at some point teach you how it all inter-connects.

We train in Aikido in the Tomiki Ryu which at it’s core is simply pre-WWII Ueshiba-ha Daito Ryu Aikibudo.  It’s an old koryu based system that is organized much like Kodokan Judo was; kihon (basics), bunkai (analysis and applications), and formal kata, with each kata designed for teaching principles and variations.

For example, in the Tomiki Ryu we have Koryu Dai Ichi (the 1^st kata) and Koryu Dai Ni (the 2^nd kata) both of which are directly related to and clearly illustrate Daito Ryu such that Ichi kata directly shows old school Daito Ryu as originally illustrated in the book Budo Renshu which documented Daito Ryu techniques.  These two kata have short and direct techniques that have a flow to them, running one into the other, but are very much self-defense oriented.

Koryu Dai San and Koryu Dai Roku (3^rd and 6^th kata) are very formally structured and presented to best illustrate the fundamental principles of the ryu including knife, sword, and stick ideas.  They are presented slowly and very precisely in order to best illustrate your understanding.

Koryu Dai Yon (4^th kata) has very large, circular, and flowing movements to show the circularity of certain patterns and also introduces, in a deliberate fashion, the idea of failure in which you apply a technique and it works but then you apply it again and it fails requiring you to respond with a kaeshi waza (counter).

Koryu Dai Go (5^th kata) has many of the same techniques as do Ichi and Ni to the point to where the last 5 of Ni and of Go are identical.  The primary difference is that in Go everything from the first suwari waza to the last striking technique is done at absolute full speed and very dynamically to pressure the defenders’ subconscious which must respond instantaneously; a true test of the intuitive processes in which should tori (defender) move too slowly or go into brain lock, uke is allowed to complete the attack and knock tori over.  It builds an understanding of pressure.

Each kata looks at and teaches different areas of the ryu.  Each kata is important for showing (and learning) all the variations in attack, with or without a weapon.  Each kata teaches variables in application of principles.  Each kata is, therefore, critical in learning and understanding the full scope of the ryu.  Leaving out a serious study of any of the kata (along with the kihon & bunkai sets) will result in an “unbalanced” Aikido player, much like the guy in the gym.

Without the full balance study, the Aikido player will have large “gaps” in their ability to intuitively recognize and respond correctly and appropriately to an attack; something permissible in the dojo where everyone are friends, but inadequate in the street where friendship is non-existent.  The lesson here to remember is that of balancing your training and not leaving out your legs.

L. F. Wilkinson Kancho

The Aikibudokan

Houston, TX

September 12, 2022