Plans, Schemes and an Incipient Paranoia

Almost two years ago now, when Klara and I climbed Fuji-San, it was at night-time and a bit of a slog.  All we could see was a slow, steady zig-zag line of head torches weaving their way above and below.  No one could see the summit.  Maybe if we had been able to see the peak, the enormity of Fuji-San would have felt more oppressive and therefore added to the arduous burden.  Far better to wind one’s way carefully watching the scree than, being captivated by Fuji-San’s majesty, end up sliding back down on one’s backside! 

From early June through to early August, training’s going to be similarly intense, something like climbing Fuji-San.  Rather stupidly, I thought I’d lay out a timetable for the next two month’s high-level Jodo, Iaido and Kendo instruction and, instantly, part of me regrets doing so for the same reasons as not wanting to see Fuji-San’s summit.  And, just as Japan’s iconic Mountain has stages where your lungs and legs are more sorely tested than others, this timetable is also going to have some hazardous, high-risk areas.  The gradings.  Umm, yes, definitely those gradings….     

Day	Date	Where	Times
Saturday	8th June	Canberra, ACT	09:30 – 16:00
Sunday	9th June	Canberra, ACT	09:30 – 16:00
Monday	10th June	Canberra, ACT	09:30 – 13:00
Tuesday	11th June	Hobart, Tasmania	13:00 – 21:00
Wednesday	12th June	Hobart, Tasmania	09:30 – 21:00
Thursday	13th June	Hobart, Tasmania	09:30 – 12:15
TB announced	Very early July	Cairns, Queensland	TB announced
Sunday	7th July	Sendai, Japan	"All day"
Monday	8th July	Sendai, Japan	"All day"
Tuesday	9th July	Sendai, Japan	"All day"
Wednesday	10th July	Sendai, Japan	"All day"
Thursday	11th July	Sendai, Japan	"All day"
Friday	12th July	Sendai, Japan	"All day"
Saturday	13th July	Sendai, Japan	My Kendo Nidan grading
Sunday	14th July	Sendai, Japan	Iaido comp
Sunday	28th July	Seishinkan Dojo, UK	Pre-seminar workout
Thursday	1st August	Stevenage, UK	Seminar times (Jodo)
Friday	2nd August	Stevenage, UK	Assist at Klara’s grading
Saturday	3rd August	Stevenage, UK	Seminar times (Jodo)
Sunday	4th August	Stevenage, UK	Seminar times (Iaido)
Monday	5th August	Stevenage, UK	My Iaido Sandan grading
Tuesday	6th August	Stevenage, UK	Seminar times (Iaido)

I’d like to think the gradings are going to be the worst part of the itinerary but a niggling voice in my head is whispering "Nagayama Sensei is up to something".  Sitting at home drinking scotch with both Nagayama and Ohara Sensei the night before they flew back to Japan they dropped some clues.  It’s just a hunch (and I’ve been lucky enough to be privy to the manner in which Sensei's mind works for a while now) but I’m deeply suspicious about why I “must go” (Sensei’s words) to Cairns.  It wasn’t delivered with a turn-up-if-you-can look, either.  He’s up to something.  Always testing.  Always planning.

 Aden and Bob, Wollongong Jodo & Iaido instructors, appraising Nagayama Sensei

Ultimate Truth

Maybe not quite how it happened

A few days ago I received a private email from a fellow Shinto Muso Ryu Jodo student complaining about the way in which they were being taught.  The student was not particularly happy with having their technique constantly corrected by the different teachers because, so the student felt, quite often the teachers had contradictory styles or had differing ways of performing such-and-such a kata.  The student wanted (what I suspect at some early stage we all may desire) an absolute, irrefutable way of performing kihon or kata:  a sort of “gospel according to Sensei”.  Of course, it would be good if the gospel could be carved on granite using a blade wrested from Miyamoto Mushashi’s hand by Musō Gonnosuke Katsuyoshi himself and passed down in an unbroken line from Soke to Soke.

I had to tell the person that, in my limited opinion, it doesn’t exist in that fashion: as an absolute.  And even if it did, the granite gospel would list only the kata names and NOT how to perform them.   We rely on our teachers to correct our mistakes and this presumes they have a good grasp understanding of the Seishin – the true heart – of the reasons behind each movement in Jodo.  Seishin can’t be passed on as a written word or carved into a block of stone.

As a way of marshalling my thoughts on Seishin and to place the student’s concerns into a local context, in Sydney and in the flavour of Shinto Muso Ryu I study, we have some quite senior practitioners, a few of whom began their studies in Japan in the mid 1970’s as juniors under Shimizu Takaji Shihan.   Under the traditional ranking system we have (in descending order of seniority) one Menkyo holder, two Gomokuroku and one Shomokuroku.  The holder of Menkyo Kaiden out-ranks all the above, knows the ultimate secrets of our weapon arts and is intimately familiar with the Seishin behind all we do.  A Menkyo holder has been shown one of the five secret techniques, while a Menkyo Kaiden as been initiated into all five.

But, it seems even climbing to the dizzy heights of Menkyo Kaiden does not mean one can see the same things as others who ascend their own personal mountain: Menkyo Kaiden holders do not always see eye to eye with Seishin.  Consider this translated extract from a book by Nishioka Tsuneo Sensei, courtesy of the deep wisdom found at Koryu.com: 

“Once, my teacher, Shimizu Takaji Sensei (1896-1978), told me not to copy the Jo practiced by his junior fellow student Otofuji Ichizo Sensei.  Unless one carefully reflects on what Shimizu Sensei really meant, this statement can be easily misunderstood.  He knew that there were some differences between his way of using Jo and Tachi and the way in which Otofuji Sensei used these weapons.  Even in kata bujutsu, it is very natural for there to be differences in form.  That’s because different people have different levels of technical understanding and different mindsets.  This leads them to make movements in slightly different ways and they pass on these individual characteristics in their teaching.  Shimizu Sensei was afraid that young students would notice these differences, get confused or suspicious, and think one way or the other was wrong.  He seemed to have been concerned about the inevitable errors that results when a student is unable or unwilling to follow just one teacher.  He urged me to follow a single teacher, to the greatest extent possible, and to avoid confusing myself unnecessarily by looking around at other teachers.” 

Bottom line of the message seems to be:  have one and only one Teacher.  I can see, in a very small dojo or if we followed the old-school method of a Teacher selecting only one student to pass his secrets on to, this would work fine.  In a larger setting, with a fair number of high ranking Teachers, it’s just not possible - especially if these high-rankers have different Menkyo Kaiden who've influenced their development.  In such a case us juniors can be forgiven for leaving some Dojo sessions utterly confused and frustrated.  It’s a struggle to come to terms with and makes an already hard process even more difficult.

Going back to the despairing student and to that person’s battle to understand what is right and wrong I’m beginning to suspect it will take them a little longer to arrive at, what for me was, a “lightbulb moment”.  Yes, there are outward differences in technique or style but these are reflections of the Senior grade's own internal development of Seishin.  Already, in their arduous climb up their own personal Mount Menkyo Kaiden, the Seniors' views are taking in different scenery and their paths gradually diverging.  Understanding what this meant and the unspoken implications for our studies took me a long time. 

As my Seitei Jodo mentor, Nagayama Sensei, often says about things:  “Can’t be helped”.

Katsujinken - The life-giving sword

I left the last post giving the impression the perfect swordsman more resembles a robotic Terminator; devoid of compassion and only intent on destruction. In Kata this concept works because it requires me to adopt a specific mindset: that of trying not to make any unforced mistakes, allowing any suki (openings - apart from those I choose, as ‘baits’, that is) or allowing my attention to drift off (like how bad his keikogi stinks).  But it's time to move on: develop an idea I’ve been toying with by, counter-intuitively, physically removing the killer from in front of me.

One of the beautiful aspects of practicing Seitei Iaido is all the sets/forms are performed alone.  OK, we might be taking up space in a Dojo with a multitude of others but each of us are essentially alone with imaginary opponents.  It’s one of the challenges in performing solo kata: that of constructing our convincing kassou teki (invisible opponents).  Not only do we have to turn and look to where the opponents are but we also have to imagine what they are doing, how far away they are, in which direction they are travelling, how fast they are doing it and what their sword is trying to do to us, etc.  It’s actually quite hard to construct for normal people as, generally speaking, we tend not to see people who don’t exist.  People who do claim to see imaginary bodies end up being prescribed drugs for their condition.  But it’s a very, very useful talent to acquire in the Dojo.  It’s a bigger talent if you are able to convince a high-level grading panel these bodies exist.

Nukitsuke - a horizontal cut in Mae

Having pared the combat back to a single person we have to bit by bit reconstruct the kassou teki.  True, each kata has a riai or ‘story’ and thus we already know how many enemies, what they are doing, the order in which they come and so on.  We learn this fairly early on in our development.  For example, we learn in the very first kata, Mae, our single opponent is sitting right in front of us, makes as if to draw his katana and we beat him to it, slicing horizontally between his temples and following up with an overhead kirioroshi -  a powerful killing cut.  The kata then progresses though other aspects before the exponent calmly walks backwards, away from the carnage.  Even up until 2^nd Dan, blindly following this story will work.  But for 3^rd Dan and above?

What I’m working towards now, for my Sandan (3^rd Dan) is not just the fast/slow, hard/soft aspects of Mae (I’m keeping to Mae to develop an idea), but what goes on in the gaps.  I sort of knew about 'gaps' beforehand but, since last weekend, they’ve become super-important to me.  During Saturday’s Jodo class, Sensei Paul Maloney related the story of a virtuoso musician who, when asked how he could play the notes with so much beauty replied “Notes?  I don’t really play the notes.  I play the gaps between the notes”. 

For Martial Arts, the Gaps -  the sometimes infinitesimal amounts of time in which nothing appears to be going on -  are opportunities for kime (decision making).  In the merest fraction of a second one has to ask oneself a series of questions along the lines of:   “Does a threat exist?” “What are they doing?”  “How and when can I counter?” and so on.  At any point the threat can disappear – give up and beg forgiveness (say) at which juncture it becomes senseless to symbolically take their life.  Oda Sensei, Australia’s Technical Advisor for Seitei Iaido, has always said kime should be present within such-and-such micropause but I’ve never before fully appreciated how important these micropauses were and what we should be doing within them.  I need to work on these, now, and attempt to show not just ‘gaps’ but ‘gaps’ filled with kime.

If I take the Terminator version – the Evil Swordsman – and inject him with kime it doesn’t just open up endless avenues for action it also opens up the possibility of the swordsman sparing the victim.  It just remains to find a balance between kime and instinct…..   

The Evil Swordsman

In my first years at University I used to play casual games of badminton a few times most weeks with a couple of other students.  Every match was hard fought to the best of our abilities with all my winning matches taking place against Tom, an Irish lad.  This was in stark contrast to my games with Steve, one of the tennis scholarship students (almost all of whom were excellent all-round racquet game players), in which I never won a single match.  Winning, I was quite comfortable with but was not too impressed with the length of the tactical-play rallies it took just to prise just one point from Steve and inevitably came away from those games exhausted, with the feeling “what is it going to take?”  OK, I edged closer to almost scoring double figures towards the end but I never really gave him serious challenge.  Against Tom, though, there were games towards the end in which he never scored a point against me.  

Being a bit thick it took a while for that lesson to sink in: the lesson of needing to face a superior opponent to be able to test your technique/fitness/tactics to their absolute limit and into the breaking zone.  For the sake of walking away with some lesson learned I’ve qualified this principle to exclude the sort of overwhelming superiority (thrashing) for which there is absolutely no point going on the court, ever.



Gently steering this topic over to my love of Jodo, we are taught to try practicing our Jo only against a superior sword-side opponent.  One who will, in Fatherly fashion, punish our Jo technique if it is bad.  By bad I mean “sloppy technique”; “treating the kata as dance”; “pre-empting the sword-wielding opponent”; “leaving oneself open to being cut (attention issues)” or any other number of possible ways to ‘die’.  In kata, despite the sometimes painful lessons, I enjoy practicing with and will hunt out the superior swordsman in a line-up.  But it begs the question how one recognises a good swordsperson?



At the foot of the stairs. 
Whatever your deepest heart's desire, may Heaven watch over you.

This question finally coagulated during Jodo sessions last weekend where it seemed (from my limited perspective) neither rank nor seniority necessarily translated into creating a competent swordsperson.  I watched as various people swapped around and took the bokken against a Jo-wielder.   Some swordspeople I found reasonably compelling but most had few sword skills or worse, had no Makoto – the Japanese word for sincerity.   After all, what is the point in facing a swordsman who not only couldn’t handle a sword but is less than convincing in his wanting to kill you with it?   

On further reflection, I suspect the intention behind using the sword is much more important than the surface skill of how it is used – as evidenced by stories of those inept but determined sociopaths who rob convenience stores or garages armed with cheap, but servicable katana.  Most of these people would not have their Makoto questioned.   Not only are they, using poor expertise and dodgy blades, willing to hack bits off to achieve their ends but they are ready to do so.

The old Japanese Masters had two words to describe the Willing and Ready aspects, attributing them as Kamae or ‘attitudes’:  Kokorogamae and Kigamae.  My understanding of these overlapping concepts is that, in addition to assuming the physical posture(s) in preparation to combat (Jodan no Kamae, Hasso no Kamae, etc.,)  there must be present an indomitable spiritual heart (Kokorogamae) to want combat and the spiritual readiness (Kigamae) to engage in combat.  When all three are meshed together, the swordsman becomes a cutting machine.  At this base, Setsuninken (life-taking sword) level, all the blade wants to do is cut and if thwarted, looks for another opportunity and another and another, without pause and without compassion.

So now, when I’m in a Dojo and pick up a Jo to face a swordsperson, I need to feel my opponent is a skilled, implacable killing machine who from the get-go just wants to wipe my entrails off his sword and look around for his next victim.

We don’t have anyone of that description in any Australian Jodo club I train at.  And this is why my Jodo cannot grow to be its best – whatever that could be.

Standards

A Foreword.

I was told the other day my blog thoughts had been seen by someone in one of the Dojos Kik and I attend.  This comes as something of a shock since my blog was intended mostly for personal reflection rather than public consumption.  Of course this is an absurd thing to write considering anyone could stumble upon it wading through the millions of blogs out there.  Luckily, few stumble into it and I'm certain the subject matter would discourage reading much beyond the first lines. Michael, if you have nothing better to do with your time than scour blog sites then you must work for the Civil Service….

2.      The Nationals and after.

Nagayama Sensei’s drive to fastrack me towards some “Assistant Instructor” (his phrase) status thankfully didn’t happen.  Common sense would tell even the least diplomatic person that having a Nidan Jodoka tell more senior ranks what to do is not a sensible (nor desirable) approach.  He’s still pushing, though, and I’ll give him credit for his persistence.  Of course, his cause is now helped by my recent promotion to Jodo 3^rd Dan status and, by a cat’s whisker, winning the day before’s 2^nd Dan Individual Championship.  First some thoughts on the seminar itself.

A Hobbit hiding in the back row

The entire week appeared given over to practicing only those Jodo kata your grade-group should be practicing in order to pass the next grading.  For the 2^nd Dan group (my grade-group) this was kata 3 through to 7 (Hissage through to Kasumi), ad nauseum.  Apart from the embarrassing time Nagayama Sensei asked me to teach Ran-Ai (the last and by far the longest of the 12 kata) to a bunch of newly promoted 4^th Dans, that is all I did during official dojo time.  Of course, outside official dojo time one could find a willing partner and practice higher and lower kata: fast and with confident spirit or slower and with intensity.

From my perspective there wasn’t enough focus on the never-ending process of trying to perfect one’s Tandoku Kihon.  I was just about to write that there was also not enough effort placed into improving individuals kata but, on hindsight, there was: but only for the kata they need.  And only then just enough to justify getting them over the line on grading day.  Including myself, my grade group (those challenging for 3^rd Dan) contained 6 people.  One or two looked competent, two average and one or two looked borderline – but all passed.  When I asked Nagayama Sensei about the grading and if he passed everyone he said “yes, because they all improved during the seminar”.  I remain unconvinced.  OK, it’s easy for someone who’s received more high-level training than he can shake a stick at for being too hard on people but, in the end, if 3^rd Dans begin edging into the “role model” territory, then setting the bar too low doesn’t help the art at all.  It’s occurred to me, now I can sit on grading panels that may create 1^st Dans, if my convictions to help further my art will remain or if I will help the enthusiasm of the candidate instead.

"Taka" my shinken (suguha hamon) and "Mumeishi" (iaito)

My Iaido, however, is lacklustre.  It’s sat on the back seat while I’ve been really thrashing Jodo and it shows.  I wasn’t at all worried about being bundled out in the semis by Ben (the eventual Iaido 2^nd Dan winner) as he’s a class act.  I am concerned, however, my 3^rd Dan Iaido grading will probably take place in the UK this August and my focus now has to change a little.  A lot, in fact.  Add to that the UK’s Iaido scene demands a higher standard and performs their Iaido kata with some differing timing emphases and, well, you get the picture.  Nagayama Sensei said to me I must come to Sendai this year to take my Kendo Nidan test because he knows all the people on the grading panel.  My answer to that is the same I have to give to an Iaido grading panel in the UK:  it doesn’t do the art any favours if the performer can’t perform. 

Change of Game

It’s only a week or two away and the AustralianNational Iaido and Jodo Seminar/Championships are already looming large on the horizon.  My long-suffering Wife, Kik and our two dogs will make the 9 hour drive down to Melbourne in order to catch the ferry over to Tasmania.  It’ll be a good road trip.

What am I expecting from this seminar?  Well, I’m choosing to omit (from this discussion) my challenge for Jodo 3^rd Dan at the end of the week.  Look to the countdown timer, to the right of this page.  I’m also electing to dismiss the comps:  I’ll do my best but if I don’t come away with pretty-ribboned medals or be able to touch a silver trophy, it won’t bother me – too much.  Instead I’m musing on the martial arts journey that’s led here and where it’s taking me.

If one were to stand out in front (where the Sensei stand) and look towards the long line picking out where I would stand, I’d be spotted somewhere around the middle.  God-like higher grades to the left (as seen from the front) and the pond-life scum (only joking) towards the right.  It’s a safe position for me to be in: the higher grades do not expect me to instruct very often and the lower grades don’t often look to me for guidance.  Very comfortable, thank you very much.  But I think this is about to change for the worse.  Sensei has told me so.

Nagayama Sensei has decided I have the potential to be a future Jodo instructor and is going to call me out from my comfort zone.  What crazed logic drives this choice I don’t know.  Suffice to say Tassie is not going to be an easy ride as the goalposts have shifted.  I have to learn how to demonstrate perfect form to a packed hall, be equipped with answers to all the awkward questions and deal with the fallout from other, more-senior grades.  Common sense now informs me the learning of nitty-gritty of ZNKR Jodo moves isn’t the be-all/end-all and it was rather foolish for me to have thought otherwise.  Sensei has made his decision and will take a watchful step back: a test to see if he’s manufactured a mindless robot or crafted a potential future instructor. 

So, like it or not, I’m going to be tested and, unlike being in a group parading up and down performing kihon or in pairs performing kata, there is nowhere to hide.

I’d rather have an opponent any day of the week.  Make that a dozen opponents.