Stand Alone

花は桜木人は武士
Hana wa sakura gi hito wa bushi
Sakura among flowers, warriors among people.

The best martial artist stands alone. The Japanese say, “hana wa sakura gi hito wa bushi” (花は桜木人は武士) or “Cherry blossoms among flowers, warriors among people.” This proverb is supposed to mean that the cherry blossom is the most beautiful flower and that the warrior is supposed to be the best human being. In order to be the best, a martial artist has to stand alone and be a person of character. All martial arts are a hitoritabi (独り旅) or “a solo journey” and where we go, we go alone. I am not saying a person who studies a martial art is a loner nor am I saying that they are lonely. To be alone, in a martial arts sense, is to toil on one’s own. Also, where we are going in martial arts training is on a journey of self-discovery and like all self-discoveries, the realizations must be made by the self. If we always rely on others, then we run the risk of being defeated when they are not there to help us. Parents, teachers, and friends can help us, but they cannot punch the bag for us, sweep that leg, or dodge that strike coming towards our head. We alone have to defend ourselves. After all that’s why it’s called “self-defense” and that’s why our work is our work. When we put forth the effort, then we in turn can learn the lessons that enable us to stand alone in not only the martial arts but in life as well. The martial arts journey may be a solo one, but its training is always done with others. If we stop and think about it, all martial arts require at least two people. In class, teachers teach us and students give us their bodies to practice on. Without them, we wouldn’t be able to achieve our highest level. A second person is even necessary when practicing a kata (型) or “an individual training exercise” because the outer you is doing the kata while the inner you is leading you, guiding you and perfecting you. Thus, on a certain level, we are never really alone. In Japanese, they say kyakkashouko (脚下照顧) or “seek enlightenment by knowing yourself and not by watching others.” No one can fight our battles for us and as much as we might not like it, no one will care as much about it as we do. A day will come when we will all have to stand up on our own two feet and rise above. If we have been leaning on others in order to be successful, then there is no way that we can be a warrior among people. No one can fight our battles for us and thus, a real martial artist has to kogunfuntou (孤軍奮闘) or “fight alone.” 18th Century Anglican Cleric Laurence Sterne said, “In solitude the mind gains strength and learns to lean upon itself.” What Sterne is alluding to is that when we go alone, it builds this inner strength that can’t be taught but can be learned. We learn it by teaching it to ourselves. To study a martial art is to travel alone down a path of self-discovery where we have to do our own work. A martial artist is a person of character who stands alone as a warrior among human beings.

Today’s goal: Your work is your work. No one can do it for you.

Watch this video to better understand being alone

The Blame Game

“A falling leaf does not hate the wind.” - Zatoichi

The best martial artists blame. I know what you are thinking, “Isn’t blaming others a slippery slope and a key part of having a victim mentality?” Yes, blaming others can create a mindset of negativity and can continue the cycle of being a victim. A martial artist doesn’t blame others because they are supposed to be a learned person or a person of stature and to blame others is to give away their ownership. However, a martial artist does assign blame to a higher power and thus they blame it all on fate. The Japanese of old believed in inochi (命) or “fate.” Today, inochi means “life” but in the past it meant “fate” or “karma.” Thus, whenever something untoward happens, a Japanese person shrugs their shoulders, says, “shouganai” and moves on. Shouganai (仕様が無い) means “it can't be helped.” Once, I asked Furuya Sensei if his grandfather of samurai stock ever talked about being interned during WWII. He said the only thing his grandfather said was, “War is war. It is shoganai.” By saying, “shouganai” the Japanese aren’t giving themselves up to fate but instead they are using it to acceptance their fate and use it to their advantage. The Japanese way of looking at fate is similar to the stoic usage of amor fati or “the love of fate.” Amor fati is “an attitude in which one sees everything that happens in one's life, including suffering and loss, as good or, at the very least, necessary.” Perhaps this understanding of fate is why Miyamoto Musashi’s first principle in his Dokkodo or the supposed 21 rules he lived by was “Accept things as they are.” When we blame it on fate and no one else, we learn to not take things personally. When we don’t take things personally, we take back that aspect of our lives that we can control - our own actions and fate is merely the outcome. In Aikido, there is a huge component of leading our opponents. Peter Goldsbury Sensei on Aikiweb described leading as suikomu (吸い込む). He wrote, “The Chinese character is the second character of the compound word kokyuu (呼吸), meaning, breath. The primary meaning is to inhale, suck in, swallow up, the third meaning leading to a metaphor of putting a person in a position such that he/she has no choice but to do what you want him/her to do.” In class, I often ask the students working on a technique, “Who is in charge?” It is a trick question. Whomever I am speaking to either the uke or “the one receiving the technique” or the nage or “the one doing the technique” is suppose to answer, “I am.” They are both supposed to say that they are because every person is supposed to be in control of themselves. The nage is in control of the timing, taking the person’s balance and throwing them to name just a few. The uke is controlling themselves to not only make a good attack, but also controlling when they are allowing their balance to be broken and thus allowing themselves to be thrown. Doing Aikido in this manner, Aikido training becomes a metaphor for life: Take control of yourself (how you move) and leave the rest to fate (how the throw turns out). The best martial artist never blame anyone else, not even themselves - they only accept things as they are.   

Today’s goal: Furuya Sensei once wrote, “Why do I blame the teapot for spilling which has no crime, it is all my fault for not being awake!”

Watch this video to better understand Amor Fati

To The Point

A good martial artist gets straight to the point. One way to say, “straight to the point” in Japanese is tantouchokunyuu (単刀直入). Tantou means “single sword” and chokunyuu means “straight in.” Presumably, a martial artist should be as succinct as stabbing someone with a sword. In the dojo, we learn how to stand up for ourselves physically, but we also learn how to stand up for ourselves mentally and emotionally too. When we bow to our training partners, we are supposed to stand up straight, make a good bow and confidently say, “onegaishimasu.” How we bow and speak demonstrates to others not only our level of training but also our level of self-confidence. To be able to speak straight to the point is a skill that most people only acquire with age and experience. When I was a student, one of the best lessons I learned from Furuya Sensei was how to calmly say exactly what I wanted to say. It seems kind of ridiculous, but when we get nervous, scared, or anxious, we tend to just blurt things out. One of the first times I ever spoke to Furuya Sensei privately, he asked me about a conversation I was having with another student after class. Being a teenager and unsure of myself, I just blurted out, “We were talking about how Aikido doesn’t work.” I neglected to add in that the other person was saying that to me and that I was just listening to be polite. That indiscretion led to a two hour lecture and when I say lecture, that is a euphemism for getting yelled at. That type of error in judgement happened probably a half dozen more times until I finally realized how to speak to Sensei. I realized that I needed to know exactly what I wanted to say before speaking to Sensei because he hated small talk and loathed people who minced their words. It was always painful to watch people squirm as Sensei dressed them down because they didn’t know that he hated to be asked, “How are you?” Watching others successfully negotiate Sensei, I learned to plan out exactly what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. Then, before I knocked on his door, I would take a deep breath and gather myself and then speak to him calmly, confidently, and get straight to the point. We were supposed to say, “Good morning, Sensei (greeting). I need to speak to you about the uniforms (subject). Do you have time to discuss this right now? (timing)” If Sensei wanted to talk about this, then I would state my case as I rehearsed it. Seems easy enough but as a teenager this required a lot of discipline and courage. Although it was difficult and painful, I learned through my engagements with Sensei that everything in the martial arts was about precision and precision necessitated that we always be clear and direct with not only our movements but with our conversations as well. Being clear, concise, and straight to the point, helps us to avoid misunderstandings and unnecessary conflicts and that is why a good martial artist gets straight to the point.

Today’s goal: Be calm and get straight to the point.

Watch this video to better understand conciseness

The Truth

The best martial artists are seekers of truth. In Japanese, “truth” or “reality” is jitsu (実). You might be thinking, “Don’t we live in reality?” The short answer is no. Most of us live in something psychologists call confabulation. Confabulations are the stories that our brains tell us that are created to justify our positions as either the hero or victim in our minds. On a certain level, it is our self-talk. Most of the confabulations in our stories come from something called unconscious bias or those biases are based upon old memories or social conditioning. The danger in stories based upon bias is that they could end up being wrong or untrue and in the martial arts being wrong could result in being defeated. Unconscious biases are based upon something from our past which our minds have stored to be used later. Storing it to be used later comes from this idea of Information Theory and how our brains take in information. According to Information Theory, our conscious minds can take in less than 1,000 bits of information per second. Conversely, our subconscious minds can take in somewhere around 10-20 million bits of information per second. Thus, to cover the shortfall of the conscious mind, our subconscious minds fill in the blind spots with past data or unconscious bias. This could be the difference between optimists and pessimists. If our unconscious bias is positive, then our bias is filled in optimistically and we see the world as abundant. If our bias is negative, then we fill in the stories with all the bad things that we have experienced and we see the world pessimistically. In the martial arts, we use this understanding of the subconscious to our advantage. Traditional martial arts training is rooted in kurikaeshi (繰り返し) or “repetition.” It is thought that when we concentrate for a long period of time on something, our minds tend to go into a subconscious state. Some call this subconscious state “the zone.” When this happens, we are either moving from subconscious imprinting or imprinting the subconscious and creating unconscious bias. It is thought that the conscious mind is too slow to respond to an attack and so the subconscious mind, which has been imprinted with repetitive movement, negotiates the attack quickly and intuitively. There is no time to think and there is no time to judge; there is only time to instinctively move. Supposedly, the subconscious mind can respond as fast as 0.08 seconds while it takes the conscious mind almost twice as long at 0.20 seconds. With time and training, we realize that our minds are “helping” us by filling in the blanks with unconscious bias. Realizing this, a martial artist wants to know where else in their lives or in their brains their minds are doing this. Therefore, a martial artist searches for the truth to see what is real or what is a story that they have been telling themselves which is blinding them from the truth. In Buddhism this is called nyojitsu (如実) or “the absolute truth.” Sun Tzu said, “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.” A good martial artist knows how to beat others. A great martial artist knows how to defeat themselves and that’s why the best martial artists are seekers of truth.

Today’s goal: What stories have you been telling yourself? Are they true?

Watch this video to better understand the power of stories

Mushin - No-Mind

Editor’s note: This article was written by Ito Sensei and published in the September 2023 edition of El Budoka Magazine.
Read the Spanish version

The place that all martial artists are striving for in their training is mushin (無心) or “no mind.” When we say “no-mind” we don’t mean a place of apathy or indifference. In Buddhism, it is said that in a state of mushin, “the mind only observes and does not react.” Miyamoto Musashi’s advisor the monk Takuan Soho wrote in his book The Unfettered Mind that “When this No-Mind has been well developed, the mind does not stop with one thing nor does it lack any one thing.” In Aikido, this mushin state is referred to as ki no nagare (氣の流れ) or “the flow of ki.” In ki no nagare, our minds flow and our bodies follow. Therefore, mushin or ki no nagare is a place in one’s training where nothing exists but at the same time everything exists; there is movement, but at the same time there is no movement.

Mushin and ki no nagare are those esoteric or abstract Japanese concepts that are easy to talk about but hard to truly cultivate. Mushin and ki no nagare have this quality of being transparent or intangible or have this feeling of being “without” form.

Bruce Lee famously said, “Don't get set into one form, adapt it and build your own, and let it grow, be like water. Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless — like water. Now you put water in a cup, it becomes the cup; You put water into a bottle it becomes the bottle; You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot.” People often take this to mean that Bruce Lee is advocating that forms are too rigid and have no place in martial art training.

I think that what Bruce Lee is saying about forms is largely taken out of context. On a certain level, Bruce Lee is not talking about learning a traditional martial art but rather he is talking about the mindset one must have while engaging in the act of fighting. You might be thinking, “Aren’t they the same thing?” No, they are not.

A martial art is a system of body and mind development. Fighting is “displaying or engaging in violence, combat, or aggression.” The end goal of the martial arts is the cultivation of the self. The end goal of fighting is the destruction of the other. In fighting, we must use any means necessary to fell our opponents. At the same time, to overcome the chaos that comes with being in a fight, our minds must be spontaneous and “flow like water.” In learning a martial art, we must adhere to a form and use that form as vehicle to not only develop our bodies but to develop our minds more importantly.

Interestingly, the muishizen (無為自然) or the “spontaneous”mind that comes at the moment when one is fighting at a high level is the same mindset that a martial artist is striving to cultivate in their training and at every moment throughout their entire life. In Aikido, this muishizen mental state that we are striving for in ki no nagare. When our ki is flowing it is said to be kouzennoki (浩然の氣) or “unencumbered by worldly concerns” and this is what Bruce Lee could be alluding to when he says, “be like water.”

The difficult thing is that most of us cannot begin with a “be like water” mindset. In Japanese traditional training, it is thought that one can only reach this state by first adhering to a form, then mastering the form, and, finally, losing the form. The Japanese believe this because they understand that mindset is harder to develop than the body.

One theory is that the “body” exists externally and so it is easier to cultivate. To cultivate the body, we just need to put in the repetitions, and this is why mastering the body is always the first level. It is the easiest because it is singular.

The mind is different because it is faster, multifaceted, and more complex. Some researchers think that the average person has up to 60,000 thoughts per day where 80% are negative, and up to 95% are the exact same repetitive thoughts that we thought the day before. Therefore, because the mind is not singular and has so many negative and repetitive thoughts that is why it is harder to cultivate.

This is where the martial arts training comes in. Martial arts training requires the student to adhere to a set of movements that have to be done in a precise way. To be exacting requires total mental concentration. This focus helps to create singularity of the mind. Overtime, once we have cultivated the skill of a singular mind and routinely use our minds in a singular way, our minds have a breakthrough. At this breakthrough that singular focus ceases to become fixed - it becomes like a moving meditation. This is where Takuan Soho’s assertion of the “non-abiding” mind comes into play. To have a “non-abiding mind” is to have a mind which flows and does not become preoccupied with any one thing. It observes and does not react.

The way the Japanese understand mushin and kata in the martial arts is similar to how Buddhists understand emptiness. In the Heart Sutra it is written, shikisokuzeku (色即是空) or “form is emptiness, emptiness is form.” “Form is emptiness, emptiness is form” is very abstract. Supposedly, this concept came about when Siddhartha gained enlightenment and became the Buddha. The story goes that Siddhartha was starving himself under the bodhi tree and was given some rice porridge by Sujata. Upon receiving the rice, he realized that by fasting and giving up all world matters and entering into “emptiness” that there was no karma. The Buddha’s karma is to save all beings and thus in order to have emptiness, one must have karma and attachments and thus “form is emptiness, emptiness is form.” The same goes for the mastery of the martial arts. We have to have a form that we have mastered in order to let go of it and allow the movements to flow.

Therefore, what Bruce Lee is asserting by directing us to “be like water” is that at some place in our training, we must let go of the form of the movement so that we can be spontaneous or allow our minds and the movements to flow. I don’t think he is advocating to never have form but rather that at a certain level of one’s development, adhering to form is no longer necessary.

Form, structure, or plans are necessary. No one just learns how to write spontaneously. Most need to trace the letters first, then make the letters into words, and then form those words into sentences. Only then will their words be understandable, cognizant, and impactful. Until then they will just be unintelligible  scribbles on cave walls.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “Sow a thought and you reap an action; sow an act and you reap a habit; sow a habit and you reap a character; sow a character and you reap a destiny.” Thus, every action begins as a thought.

The martial arts don’t exist to teach us how to destroy other people - it is far more deeper than that. The martial arts are a way of living. In the martial arts, to achieve mushin or ki no nagare is to have a mind that is free from emotion and burden which improves every aspect of our daily lives. When our minds flow freely, our bodies will follow spontaneously - that is mushin.

Standards

The best martial artists strive to live their lives by standards. Martial arts training transcends mere physical prowess; it's more than just beating people up. It has to delve deeper and offer more fulfillment, or else life would hold little meaning. To study a martial art is to study the self. When we study ourselves, we learn about our truths, but we realize our untruths as well. One thing that is revealed to us in our training is this concept of kijun (基準) or “standards.” In training, we learn that preferences are different than standards. Preferences are what we tend to like or don’t like, and those desires are whimsical and subject to change based upon mood, availability, or situation. Standards are firm and are more like the principles that we choose to live our lives by which guide all of our behaviors, attitudes, and actions. Standards are different than rules; while rules often feel imposed by others, standards are a choice. Standards are also different than goals. Motivational speaker Eric Thomas said, “Goals move, standards don’t.” Standards ensure that goals are achieved. We can have standards without having goals, but we can’t achieve goals without having standards. Standards are also different than a code of conduct. Codes of conducts are mainly just words like “honor” or “sacrifice.” Standards are more like these mantras that we hold steadfast and won’t break easily like “I don’t lie” or “I don’t steal.” Standards are also different than boundaries as a boundary cannot create a standard, but a standard can help to create a boundary. Standards are about taking ownership of ourselves, and they are reflected in the quality of our actions and level of personal development. In the dojo, we learn pretty quickly that we are held to a standard because with each promotion in rank comes not only a set of standards but also responsibilities. For instance, senior students are expected to train hard with their juniors to develop them but not to the point that they are beaten up. Standards dictate how we act or control ourselves when something untoward happens to us. Epictetus said, “We can’t control what happens to us, we can only control how we respond to it.” Every day in the dojo and in life, we are buffeted by forces that are out of our control. Understanding Epictetus’ quote, we realize that the only thing we can control is us and we control ourselves by adhering to the standards that we set forth for ourselves. A martial artist has to be the kind of person that does what they say they will do and that’s why the Japanese say, “bushi no ichigon kintetsu no gotoshi” (武士の一言金鉄の如し) or that “A warrior’s word is as reliable as gold or iron.” It is reliable because a warrior’s standard won’t allow them to break it. What does it really mean to be an Aikidoist, a teacher, or a person who follows the Way? All of these questions and many more can be answered when we look inward and see what we hold to be true and then in turn live our lives by those truths. Everything else is just words, desires, or the things we say and do so that people will like us. Yoda said, “a Jedi craves not these things” and neither does a martial artist. A true martial artist stands alone because they choose to live their life by their standards.

Today’s goal: Do you have real standards or are they just strong preferences?

Watch this video to better understand standards

Starting Over

“The hand must be like a bamboo leaf, the feet like rolling logs, the eyes like a flitting sparrow, the heart like a polished mirror, and the mind must always remain in its beginning.” - A quote attributed to Rev. Kensho Furuya

The best martial artist has a starting over mindset. Every morning when a martial artist wakes up, they should think to themselves that they are starting over. I don’t mean starting over from a negative or defeated sense. I mean starting over from the Japanese sense of shoshin (初心) which means “original intention” or what Zen Buddhists refer to as “the beginner’s mind.” To have a beginner’s mind is to have a mind that is wiped clean and freed from all the baggage that one has accumulated from the trials and tribulations of life and all of its social conditioning. In Japanese, yarinaosu (遣り直す) means “to start over.” Yari means “to do” and naosu means “to fix.” Understanding this, starting over is to do something better because we have, theoretically, fixed it and would then become more successful. Interestingly, we can see this yarinaosu or starting over mentality in author, Brian Tracy’s Zero-based Thinking. He said, “Practice ‘zero-based thinking’ in every part of your life. Ask yourself continually, "If I were not doing this already, knowing what I now know, would I start doing it again today?" If it is something you would not start again today, knowing what you now know, it is a prime candidate for abandonment or creative procrastination.” So, each morning, we should adopt Brian Tracy’s approach and think about starting over. In starting over, we should think about the things, habits, situations, or people which have served us, helped us, or were of some benefit to us. Those things which are a benefit to us, we should embrace or accentuate. Those things, people, or habits which are not beneficial or are not supporting us, we should move away from them. We should also carry this same starting over mentality into the dojo. Furuya Sensei used to say, "Cut off your head and leave it outside the door.” What he meant was that we should leave the cares, worries, and baggage of the external world outside. The dojo is supposed to be a sanctuary or a place of respite from the outside world where we go to improve ourselves. However, the dojo is just a place. It can only become a sanctuary when we can step over the threshold without the cares of the outside world. In a sense, we have to walk in with a cleared state of mind or as if we have “cut off our heads.” A martial artist is a person who is trying to better themselves. One way to do this is to take a regular inventory of ourselves and those elements in our lives. The best time to do this is in moments just after we wake up where our subconscious minds are supposedly in the most susceptible state and open to suggestion. By taking an inventory and using “knowing what you know now, what would you do or do differently,” we can imprint our subconsciousness for success and seemingly start our lives over. This is something that any person can do martial artist or otherwise. A true martial artist is an alchemist because they have the ability to change themselves and they do this by continually starting over.

Today’s goal: Think about those things which don’t serve you and wipe the slate clean.

Editor's note: We attributed this quote to Furuya Sensei because we cannot be 100% sure it was from him or written by him as the source is not verifiable.

Watch this video of Brian Tracy explaining Zero-based Thinking

Open Heart

In time, all things work to your advantage when you pursue them with an open heart. - Miyamoto Musashi.

The best martial artist strives to be open-hearted. In Japanese to be kisaku (氣さく) means to be “open-hearted,” “kind,” or “ready.” Thus, from the kanji (氣) we can see that being open-hearted has something to do with putting our energy into something. To be open-hearted is “to be kind, wishing for good, or benevolent.” In the martial arts, to be open-hearted is demonstrated at the highest level of enlightenment by an open stance. To stand openly is to seemingly not put up any defenses. To the uninformed, “to stand completely open to an attack” or kyo (虚) is the fastest way to be defeated. However, when a person of experience stands openly, they are implying that “no matter how you attack, I can defend” and their stance is a demonstration of their level of development. In the past, a person who studied the warrior arts had to be muzan (無残) or “ruthless” because it was their job to engage in violence and so it was in their best interest to stand with a closed stance. Interestingly, muzan literally translates to mean “nothing left” which paints this picture of a person who is closed off and capable of utter destruction. As with standing in an open stance, having an open heart is a dangerous thing unless a person understands how to manage it. Without discernment, we can accidentally set ourselves up to be used or abused by others. In the dojo, we train to develop ourselves so that no person can take advantage of us physically. Some training partners try to give their partners a “real” attack and attack them harshly or recklessly. With this rough attack, they're thinking “no one on the street would ever hold back” and so by attacking with all their strength, they are “teaching” them what it is like to be attacked for real. They are not wrong and there is some truth to this. However, by attacking this way, they aren’t showing their level of awareness for their partner’s level nor are they showing their partners any compassion or empathy - they don’t show their open-heartedness. Furuya Sensei advocated that we “train with people to their level and one step farther.” Training to their level shows our level of awareness. Pushing them only one step farther demonstrates our compassion - we push them to help them grow. Most times, we train roughly with people because we are scared, closed off, or clouded by our own baggage. Miyamoto Musashi said, “In time, all things work to your advantage when you pursue them with an open heart.” What he could be alluding to is that the beginnings of becoming a person with an open heart begins with intentionality. Having the intention of being “open” enables us to train to our fullest and also train with others to their fullest. Pouring our hearts into our training will lead to opening our hearts in all aspects of our lives. When we work hard and develop ourselves, we will gain the courage to open ourselves up to whatever the powers that be have in store for us. That is why the best martial artists are ready for anything and thus strive to be open-hearted.

Today’s goal: Furuya Sensei said, “Trying hard to learn, also means to be easy to teach. Easy to teach means to come to the dojo with an open heart and mind.”

Watch this video to better understand intentionality and an open heart

Use Fear

“Never fear another challenger, no matter how large;
Never despise another challenger, no matter how small.” - Morihei Ueshiba

The best martial artists use fear to their advantage. Osore (恐れ) or “fear” is defined as “an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.” Every person has fear and all of our fears are relative. The problem is not so much the presence of fear but in how we deal with it. Morihei Ueshiba said, “Never fear another challenger, no matter how large; Never despise another challenger, no matter how small.” With the addition of “never despise another challenger, no matter how small,” O’Sensei’s assertion helps us to understand discernment and the development of equanimity in our training. Equanimity is the ability to have composure in the face of adversity and its attainment is one of the highest skills in the martial arts. One way to develop a mindset that is not swayed one way, or another is through something I like to call confrontation therapy where the martial artist confronts that which causes them fear. They confront it because they want to see what is on the other side of that fear. In confronting our fears, we could find out that our fears are true, or we could realize that they are unfounded, just some story we tell ourselves, or just something that we make bigger the more we focus on it. Regardless of the outcome, we learn something about ourselves. For instance, every person has someone in their school that they don’t particularly like for one reason or another. Because that person causes us to be uncomfortable or afraid, we avoid them. Avoiding them, on a certain level, gives them an invisible advantage over us because their mere presence controls us. Because they control us, our minds are not equanimous. Understanding this, we actively seek them out to train or engage with them. We may or may not become best friends with that person, but by sitting with our fears or feelings, we take the edge off it and dissolve their advantage over us. With every fear we confront, we come to realize that we can be our own worst enemy and that we sometimes give our fears more power than they deserve. All martial artists are trying to become undefeatable. Carl Jung said, “Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.” Thus, to become undefeatable, we must know ourselves and confront our fears. When we become undefeatable, fear alone won’t be able to stop us. Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “He who is not everyday conquering some fear has not learned the secret of life.” Emerson could be alluding to the fact that managing our fears is the secret to life and that it is a skill that needs to be practiced every day. Perhaps that is why the Japanese say, dojo de naki, senjou de warau (道場で泣き戦場で笑う) or “Cry in the dojo, laugh on the battlefield.” Everyone has fear and so do martial artists. The only difference is that the best martial artists have learned how to use their fears to their advantage.  

Today’s goal: Remember, Mark Twain said, “Courage is not the absence of fear but acting in spite of it.”

Watch this to better understand using fear to your advantage

See No Problems

“Perception is strong and sight weak. In strategy it is important to see distant things as if they were close and to take a distanced view of close things.” - Miyamoto Musashi

The best martial artists don’t see problems. Don’t get me wrong. It is not that martial artists don’t “have” problems; they just choose not to “see” them in terms of being something negative. This is more than having a positive mental attitude. A martial artist is supposed to approach problems unemotionally and just see them as challenges that need to be overcome. That is why one of the highest teachings in the martial arts is equanimity. One way to say “problem” in Japanese is nukisashinaranu (抜き差しならぬ). Nuki (抜き) pertains to “drawing one’s sword” and thus one gets into a “sticky situation” and has a problem drawing their sword. Martial artists choose not to get tangled up in problems because they are supposed to be solution based people who kaitouranma (快刀乱麻) or “solve problems swiftly and skillfully.” Kaitouranma is supposed to refer to the legend of Alexander the Great who solved the puzzle of the Gordian Knot. A Gordian Knot is a famous problem that consisted of "several knots all so tightly entangled that it was impossible to see how they were fastened.” An oracle had been foretold that any man who could unravel the Gordian Knot would become the ruler of Asia. In 333 BC, Alexander the Great was challenged to untie the knot. At first Alexander struggled to untie the complicated knot as everyone in the palace looked on. Supposedly, he eventually realized that the method of untying the knot was inconsequential. At that moment, he stepped back, drew his sword, and cut the knot with one stroke. Alexander shifted his focus from the intricacies of the problem (a complicated knot) to seeking a solution (just cut it) – a powerful psychological shift. Psychologically, when we focus on the problem and all its complicated details, it causes the problem to become more complicated or the knot gets tighter. Conversely, when we focus on finding solutions, our minds tend to see the in-betweens and solutions begin to arise or the knot becomes looser. Thus, focusing on the problem is just the negative way we look at a circumstance while focusing on solutions is the positive way we look at a problem. Author Byron Katie noted, "Everything happens for you, not to you." Embracing this notion, perceiving events as happening "for" us, rather than "to" us, enables us to reclaim our power and our problem-solving ability. When Alexander faced the Gordian Knot, he could have viewed it as a challenge that highlighted his shortcomings. Instead, he chose to see it as an opportunity that would elevate him to greatness. This philosophy also has parallels in martial arts training too. Each challenge in the dojo serves to elevate us. Opportunities like difficult techniques, injuries, or difficult people all contribute to our growth. Thus, when we change our perception, we can begin to see everything as an opportunity “for” us which is leading us to our highest level and that is why the best martial artists don’t see problems.

Today’s goal: “Everything happens for you” and thus, choose to change the way you see your circumstances.

Watch this video to better understand having a solutions based mindset

Self-Care

“Do not let the body be dragged along by the mind nor the mind be dragged along by the body.”
- Miyamoto Musashi

The best martial artists are masters of self-care. Self-care is “anything you do to take care of yourself so you can stay physically, mentally, and emotionally well.” On a certain level, the Japanese don’t have an actual word for “self-care.” Typically, they use serufukea (セルフケア) which is Japanized from English. Because they borrow a word, one could posit that they don’t have one because Japanese society functions as a group and thus openly spending time on oneself could be seen as being wagamama (我が儘) or “selfish.” Nevertheless, self-care is important because how we care for ourselves can be a window into our shinrijoutai (心理状態) or “state of mind.” When I was in graduate school for acupuncture, we learned in the Psychology of Patient Care to look at things like hygiene, physical appearance, and clothing as clues to ascertain the patient’s true state of mental health. The idea is that the more a person takes care of their physical appearance, the more stable their mental health is or at least how well they put up a good front. In the martial arts movie, Bodyguards and Assassins, the protagonist Master Li enlists the help of a despondent homeless person in the final battle. This bearded and disheveled homeless man is depressed over the death of his father and girlfriend and spends his days drinking, and doing drugs. As the two drink wine, they reminisce about their life sacrifices, disappointments, and the desperateness of the upcoming battle. A few scenes later the beggar is seen cleaning himself up. While looking in the mirror and shaving, he seemingly remembers himself. In the final battle, the beggar turns out to be none other than Liu Yubai, a famous martial artist who specializes in the use of the iron fan. He courageously and skillfully holds off a group of assassins before becoming mortally wounded. When called upon, Liu Yubai cleaned himself up so that he could face his death with dignity and die as a hero instead of a beggar. Seeing this, I realized that self-care is the precursor to self-dignity or the value we place upon ourselves. The act of taking care of ourselves is what creates self-dignity. In the martial arts, if an opponent can figure out our mental state, then they would know how to defeat us and so we practice self-care as a means to keep our opponents at bay. Self-care is one method of improving our minds and moods. Who doesn’t feel better after a shower, coming back from the dojo, or taking a break? Thus, self-care is not just about hygiene. Self-care is the dignity with which we approach the mundane things in our lives like brushing our teeth, meditating, or exercising, to name just a few. This could be one of the reasons why etiquette in the martial arts is so important. The idea is that those who have taken the time to master something as benign as etiquette probably have taken the time to master the intricacies of the technique because as Martha Beck stated, “How you do anything is how you do everything.” Thus, in the martial arts and in life, taking care of ourselves isn’t selfish, it shows how we feel about ourselves and demonstrates our true inner state of mind. We take care of ourselves to show others that we won’t go easily and that is why the best martial artists are masters of self-care.

Today’s goal: Take care of yourself because you matter.

Watch this video to better understand self-care.

Worry Better

The best martial artist uses worry to make them better. Worry or shinpai (心配) is the martial artist’s frenemy. Worry is our frenemy because it can be used to our advantage but in excess it can hurt us as well. In Japanese, they say bushi wo mitaradoroboutoomoe (武士を見たら泥棒と思え) or that “Warriors always assume the worst in people.” Warriors have to always err on the side of caution because they never want to be on the receiving end of a surprise attack or an act of betrayal. Therefore, up to a certain level, worrying is a tool that helps to keep us safe. However, too much worry like in a catastrophizing way can mi wo kezuru (身を削る) or “take a toll on our bodies.” Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “The ancestor of every action is a thought.” Emerson’s quote could be the impetus that led to the idea that if we want to change our circumstances then we should merely change our thoughts. The only problem is that thoughts are hard to change. Some researchers think that the average person has up to 60,000 thoughts per day and that 80% of those thoughts are negative. Martial artists understand that things on the inside are harder and slower to change. Therefore, they attack their problems from the outside and seek to change their minds with action. From a neurological standpoint there is some evidence that supports this idea from something called muscle-brain cross talk. In muscle-brain cross talk, the theory is that when we contract our muscles, they secrete hormones and chemicals into our bloodstream that travel to our brains and act as an antidepressant. This is one reason why exercise makes us feel better. Therefore, when we feel the pangs of worry, we should use that as a signal that it is time to get up and move and this supports the assertion that “every action begins with a thought” but we don’t change our thoughts to change our actions. We change our minds by moving our bodies which in turn will improve our moods. Martial arts training deals in things that are designed to be lethal and so it is only natural that its practice can elicit fear or worry. On a certain level, martial arts training is exposure therapy or that it helps people “to overcome their fears and anxieties by breaking the pattern of fear and avoidance.” Ideally, the more we stand up and move to confront our fears, the less our fears manage us and the faster we can overcome them. At a certain point in our training, this desensitization begins to crossover into our daily lives and worry controls us less and less. There is no one who is without worry or fear. A good martial artist learns how to manage their fears or worries. However, the best martial artists use worry to motivate them and go from good to great. In Yamamoto Tsunetomo’s book Hagakure, he writes, “Whenever you meet difficult situations, dash forward bravely and joyfully.” Thus, in the martial arts and in life, whenever something causes you concern, don’t worry, just move forward and attack. The best martial artists don’t mind a little worry, they just use it to make them better.

Today’s goal: Whenever you feel yourself start to worry, get up and move.

Watch this video to better understand using fear to make you better

Unsung Heroes

“By protecting others, you save yourself.” - Kambei Shimada, Seven Samurai

The best martial artist strives to be an unsung hero. In Japanese, an “unsung hero” is ennoshitanochikaramochi (縁の下の力持ち) and is considered to be someone who does a “thankless task.” A person who is capable of being an unsung hero has put in the work to suppress their ego and developed themselves as a human being. To engage in unsung hero behavior is to work for the benefit of others even if it means sacrificing oneself. The place that we are all trying to get to in our training is mushin (無心) or “nothingness.” One way to get there is that we have to learn to abandon ourselves. To abandon oneself is to be able to move with kouzennoki (浩然の氣) which means to be “unencumbered” physically, mentally, and spiritually. To be able to shed our attachments in the spiritual world, we must first shed them in the physical world. One way to do this is to work selflessly for the benefit of others and that is possibly why the term samurai (侍) means “one who serves.” One of the main tenets of a warrior’s life is to act without the desire for reward. In Buddhism, “to let go of any desire for reward or fear of punishment” is called mukudoku (無功徳). Selfishness, on a certain level, is a primal survival mechanism and thus, if we don’t take of ourselves, we won’t survive. However, this is not the Paleolithic era, and we don’t live in caves. The modern martial artist is supposed to be a sophisticatedly evolved human being who uses martial arts training to develop themselves. To effectively work for the benefit of others, we have to develop a high level of sensitivity. In class, one way to develop this sensitivity is in terms of attacking suki or “weak points.” In martial arts training, we train ourselves to become “good at finding weak points” or suki wo mitsukeru noga jozu desu (隙を見つけるのが上手です). Being able to find  weak points enable us to suki wo mitsukeru (隙を見つける) or “to seize an opportunity” and gain the victory. The idea is that stronger opponents have weak points which are harder to find. To effectively find them requires a certain level of sensitivity and self-development. To capitalize upon an opening which is fleeting in the moment also requires a large amount of self-sacrifice. We cannot jump into the void if we hold our lives near and dear. Wars are not won by grand gestures but by the little and oftentimes intangible things which aren’t readily apparent to the uninitiated. The best martial artists do things that no one will ever see to ensure that others have a good time, are cared for, and are safe even if it means sacrificing their own good time, comfort, or safety. Quietly working for the benefit of others is the highest level in martial arts training and that is why the best martial artist strives to be the unsung hero.

Today’s goal: Do something for someone without letting them know. 

The Lucky Ones

武運長久
Buunchoukyuu
Continued luck in the fortunes of war - Japanese idiom

The best martial artists are one of the lucky ones. Oftentimes, our egos make us think that we are somehow the best because we are gifted or talented. Being able to become the best is really more about luck than skill. In Japanese, one way to say blessed, luck, or fortune is sawai (幸い). Luck is defined as “success or failure apparently brought by chance rather than through one's own actions.” In the Professional Athlete Index, it states that “only one out of 51,346 golfers become a professional in the United States.” That’s a shocking 0.001946%! To become good at something is a function of five things: time, opportunity, wealth, energy, and, of course, discipline. If you aren’t lucky enough to have every single one of these, then you can’t get good at something let alone become the best. Luck is not about being able to hit the target but about being in a place to via to hit the target. Thus, luck plays a huge role in becoming successful not only as a martial artist but in all walks of life. To be lucky enough to have time implies that we can allocate our time to getting good but also that we don’t have any other responsibilities that are burdening our schedule. Sun Tzu wrote that “Opportunities multiply as they are seized.” If, to name just a few, we are lucky enough to have a place to train, someone to teach us, and people to train with, then these opportunities add up enabling us to get good. If we can afford to take a martial art, then we are lucky enough to be among the top eight percent of the world’s wealthiest population who can afford it. Martial arts training requires having a body which is capable of strenuous movement. Thus, if we have the energy or youth to train, then we are luckier than the nearly 150,000 people who won’t wake up tomorrow. Most importantly, success is directly related to having the discipline to finish what we have started. Martial artists are lucky enough to be people who have either learned or were born with a sense of discipline which enables them to see things through to their end despite setbacks, obstacles, or lack of talent. Most of those 51,346 golfers, if not all, were lucky enough to have had the time, opportunity, wealth, energy, and discipline to devote to their craft, but still didn’t make it - they weren’t lucky enough. The kanji for saiwai (幸) also means “happiness.” One could posit that happiness is not the obtaining of one’s goal but in its pursuit. I wonder how many of those golfers who didn’t make it would still consider themselves “lucky.” Lucky enough to have had the chance to pursue their dreams. Furuya Sensei used to say that “training is a privilege.” It is a privilege because not everyone finds themselves lucky enough to have the time, opportunity, wealth, energy, or discipline to follow their desired path. Rabbi Hyman Schachtel said, "happiness is not having what you want, but wanting what you have.” If that is true, then happiness is being able to appreciate how lucky each and every one of us is to be doing what we are doing despite the outcome. Happiness calls us to be grateful and we show our gratefulness by not squandering the privilege that we are being given. The best aren’t the best because they are the best. They are the best because they make the most out of the luck that they have. If you find yourself lucky enough to train, then you are one of the lucky ones - don’t squander it.

Today’s goal: Furuya Sensei said, “When the opportunity presents itself, throw yourself into your training.”

Watch this video to better understand luck

Make Mistakes Wisely

“It is said that one should not hesitate to correct himself when he has made a mistake. If he corrects himself without the least bit of delay, his mistakes will disappear.” - Yamamoto Tsunetomo, Hagakure

A good martial artist makes mistakes wisely. It is said that there is only one type of person who doesn’t make mistakes: Liars. Martial artists are supposed to be honorable and not lie, cheat, or steal. We are human beings and humans by design are not perfect and thus apt to make mistakes. We have to make mistakes from time to time to remind us that we are not in fact perfect and keep our egos in check. We also should want to make mistakes because they shows us where we need to put in the work. One way of saying “mistake” in Japanese is misu (ミス). Misu is borrowed from the English word “miss” and is japanized to the Japanese language. Miss implies that we fail to hit the target or in other words we make a mistake and fail to be the person that we are striving to be. A martial artist is a person who strives for perfection, and they know that perfection is a journey and not a destination. In class, around half of the time, we are on the “receiving” end of the technique or taking ukemi (受身). Ukemi is the art of gracefully recovering from a fall. When we take ukemi, we are on the mistake side of the technique. We have committed the mistaken act of attacking another person. Our partner takes our blunder and turns it into a technique to their advantage. Obviously that technique is designed to hurt us but in the course of our training, we learn to fall in a way that minimizes the damage to our bodies - we make the mistake wisely. A mistake is only a mistake if we don’t learn from it. A martial artist does their best to learn from their mistakes. Hence, the act of learning from our mistakes enables us to make them wisely. Nobody is perfect. Perfection is a journey. If it is a journey then, from time to time, there will be bumps in the road. Sometimes, we might stumble or even fall down. What really defines us is not the mistake but how we recover from it. Life is a process of falling down, learning, getting back up, dusting ourselves off, and trying to do better the next time. In Japanese, this process could be best summed up by the proverb nana korobi ya oki (七転び八起き) or “To fall down seven times, but get up eight.” In the martial arts and in life, a mistake is only a mistake if we do not learn from it. A good martial artist knows this and that’s why they learn to make mistakes wisely.

Today’s goal: Tread lightly and go easy on yourself. You’re not perfect so just learn from your mistakes and do better next time.

Watch this video to better understand learning from your mistakes.

Exercise Discipline

“There is nothing outside of yourself that can ever enable you to get better, stronger, richer, quicker, or smarter. Everything is within. Everything exists. Seek nothing outside of yourself.” - Miyamoto Musashi

The goal of all martial arts training is to learn self-discipline. Jishuku (自粛) or “self-discipline” is like a muscle but I am not talking about Bruce Lee or Jean Claude Van Damme type muscles. Discipline is like a muscle in the sense that it needs to be constantly worked out or it will atrophy. When our discipline atrophies, we lose the ability to achieve our goals. Perhaps that is why when someone needs to work hard to achieve their goals people say that they must “exercise discipline.” Discipline is the ability to muster the strength to push ourselves to do things that we don’t necessarily want to do to achieve our goals. However, discipline is different from other character traits that other successful people might have like: time management, tolerance, willpower, or habit. Those traits all require discipline to some degree in order for them to come into fruition. If something is easy, convenient, comfortable, or we are good at it, then it doesn’t require any self-discipline. Also, if something is inconvenient, uncomfortable, stressful, or hard, then it requires a tremendous amount of self-discipline to accomplish it. A while back in swordsmanship class, Watanabe Sensei said, “Proper grip usually means proper posture and a balanced center which enables us to create an effective attack.” In Japanese, one’s grip is referred to as tenouchi (手の内). Gripping a Japanese sword is different than holding something like a baseball bat. Tenouchi refers to holding the sword with the palm of the hand or as much as the palm as possible which can be difficult or uncomfortable. That is why in swordsmanship they say, “Our hands conform to the sword, the sword does not conform to our hands.” Interestingly, tenouchi wo miseru (手の内を見せる) means “to reveal one's true intentions.” Thinking about this, gripping the sword then becomes a metaphor: to have the discipline to do something properly is difficult but will ultimately lead to achieving our goals. In life and in the martial arts, if something doesn’t challenge us, it doesn’t change us. The best martial artists know this and that is why they are constantly seeking out challenging ways to exercise their self-discipline.

Today’s goal: Discipline yourself to do something every day that you know you don’t want to do but that you know will help you achieve your goals. If it doesn’t challenge you, it won’t change you.

Watch this video of former Navy Seal Jocko Willink discussing discipline

Read the Air

Editor's note: This article originally appeared in the Spanish language magazine El Budoka. Translated by Santiago Garcia Almaraz Sensei. Read it here: El Budoka

Read the Air

The best martial artists can anticipate their opponent’s next move and defeat them. In Japanese, one way to say “anticipate” is (見越す) or mikosu. Mikosu translates as “to see” (見) and “to exceed” (越す) and thus it implies that anticipation is “to exceed what can be seen.” The word anticipate was coined in the mid 16th century and means “To be aware of (what will happen) and take action in order to be prepared.” In the martial arts, to be able to anticipate is to understand a person’s tendencies and use that knowledge to defeat them.

Anticipation is a form of strategy. It is one way to engage our opponents and defeat them. Sun Tzu once wrote, “Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment — that which they cannot anticipate.”

Anticipation begins with learning to develop one’s eye. In this sense, we are not talking about having sharper vision. To develop one’s eye is to be able to see subtleties and understand them within a certain context. The beginning of developing one’s eye starts with something called minarai keiko (見習い稽古) or “The practice of watching and copying.” The teacher demonstrates and the student carefully watches and copies. This “no teach” method of teaching forces the student to apply themselves or to have self-discipline. Thus, a dedicated student learns to watch so carefully that they are able to see every subtlety of their teacher’s technique, good and bad.

In a 1967 study by researcher Albert Mehrabian, he found that “93% of all communication is non-verbal.” He said, “55% of communication is body language, 38% is the tone of voice, and 7% is the actual words spoken.” Therefore, if we only pay attention to “what” is being said and not “how” it is being said or the body language, then we are apt to misread the words and make a mistake.

In the old days, teachers said very little because it was thought that it was the student’s responsibility to learn. That is why it is said that “the best teacher is the one who is the most unreasonable.” They are unreasonable because they don’t teach us the way we want to be taught. We want to be taught in a way which is the most comfortable for us and reaffirms our egos. The teacher teaches us in a way that brings out the best in us and isn’t necessarily concerned with our comfort. Even a bad teacher can make a good student because, on a certain level, the “worse” or more unreasonable a teacher is, the harder the student has to work. The more unreasonable the teacher, the more it forces the student to “steal” the technique from the teacher. In Japanese, “the practice of stealing the technique” is known as nusumi keiko (盗み稽古).

These types of keiko or teaching methods were also a culling process that was supposed to weed out the students who didn’t have the heart or dedication to follow the art.

Once a student has mastered their kihon-waza (基本技) or “basic techniques,” it is naturally thought that they have developed their eye or ability to see the movement, technique or art. From this mastery is where we develop kan (勘) or “intuition.”

Kan is the basis of being able to anticipate. Intuition is defined as “the ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning.” Without conscious thought makes intuition feel like something spiritual. However, this type of intuition isn’t spiritual but rather learned. It is more of an instinctive feeling that is based upon intelligent repetition. Intelligent repetition means that the movement, technique, or ability improves with every repetition and thus becomes intuitive or done without conscious thought.

In swordsmanship, a person learns to see the next move based upon their awareness of the situation and an intuition built upon repetition. To the outside looking in, it appears intuitive. In the martial arts, this awareness or intuition based anticipation of our opponent’s next move, is known as kuuki wo yomeru (空氣を読める) or “read the air.” To read the air is a metaphor for being so aware that we can see something that can’t be seen like air. From a martial arts standpoint, a person with training is supposed to be able to see and anticipate their opponent’s next move even if they are trying to conceal it.

There’s a similar concept in chess. The average chess player can supposedly think one to three moves ahead. However, the Norwegian Chess Grandmaster Magnus Carlsen can supposedly see or anticipate 15-20 moves ahead of his opponent. Carlsen’s fastest game was with the Indian Chess Grandmaster Vidit Gujrathi and it took only 6.17 seconds and five moves for Carlsen to offer the Grandmaster a draw.

Learning to read the air is a special type of training that is typically reserved for apprentices who are acting as the teacher or master’s 0tomo (お供) or “attendant.”This training usually happens outside of the dojo. It is the otomo’s job is to see to the needs of the teacher or master. They cook, clean, take their ukemi, teach lower ranking students, and accompany their teachers on errands and travel. If a student or deshi is trained properly or is at a certain level, the master will never have to ask them for anything. The otomo or deshi is supposed to be able to anticipate what the teacher needs before they have to articulate that they need it. To be able to anticipate the needs of the one we are caring for is a demonstration of a very high level of training or ability.

When we face off with our opponents, we are trying to read their movements and at the same time look for any openings to capitalize on. We use our intuitive eye for movement that we learned in minarai keiko and nusumi keiko and apply it to reading the air. With that knowledge, we make it look easy as we handedly defeat our opponents because we know before they know what they are going to do. At this level, we want to get to a level where we can “feel” what is coming next rather than think of what is coming next. This ability to anticipate enables us to make the opponent miss or mikiri (見切り) and then allows us to maneuver and hit them or amashi (余し).

In swordsmanship they say chotan ichimi (長 短 一 身 ) or“strong point, weak point, one body.” This means that every person’s body has both weak and strong points. The best martial artists understand this and apply themselves to be able to see their opponent’s weaknesses and capitalize on them even though they are trying to hide them. That is why the best can read the air and anticipate what’s coming next.

Kuuki wo yomeru calligraphy done by Yoshida Kuniharu Instagram @kuni_rhythm

Read the Spanish version here: El Budoka

Unselfish Loyalty

“A warrior is worthless unless they rise above others and stand strong in the midst of a storm.”
- Yamamoto Tsunetomo, Hagakure

The best martial artists are loyal. Loyalty in Japanese is chuu (忠). To be loyal is defined as “giving or showing firm and constant support or allegiance to a person or institution.” The kanji for loyalty is made up of the characters for inside (中) and heart (心). Understanding this, loyalty is based upon our true desires, intentions, or feelings that reside in our hearts. Normal people get to engage in duplicity, but as martial artists, we are trying to get to a place where what is on the outside matches what is on the inside. This integrity comes about because martial arts training is supposed to be a form of misogi (禊) or “purification.” To purify oneself is not necessarily religious but rather the act of becoming less selfish. That is why in traditional Japanese arts they say that the opposite of loyalty is selfishness. In the old days, it was thought that acting out what is truly in our hearts was selfish. When a person studies a traditional Japanese art, there are all these acts of purification which are supposed to combat selfishness like bowing, cleaning, or taking ukemi to name just a few. Each of these acts is supposed to bring us closer to unselfishness. That is why the more we train, the more we sei (精) or “purify” ourselves. Every person’s loyalty has a limit and ideally, our loyalty is inversely proportional to our selfishness or that the more loyal we are, the less selfish we are. However, that is not necessarily the reality because up to a certain level, anyone can say that they are loyal and untested loyalty can be faked. No one knows what’s truly in our hearts but us and that’s why the true definition of loyalty is what we do when no one is looking. There is a saying in traditional arts, “When the teacher is gone, the student reveals themselves.” In other words, who we really are only comes out when we think no one is watching or when we think we won’t get caught. Who are you? Where is your limit? What would it take for you to give up your loyalty? No one knows the answers to these questions for sure. Only time will tell how truly selfish we are in our hearts. The best martial artists are aware of the struggle and thus they are always striving to be less selfish and more loyal.

Today’s goal: Don’t give up so easily. True loyalty is where intention meets character.

Time to do Suburi

塵も積もれば山となる
Chiri mo tsumoreba yama to naru
Even specks of dust if piled up can become mountains.

The best martial artists have a suburi mindset. In swordsmanship, practicing the “overhead cut” or kirioroshi (切り下ろす) is called suburi (素振り). Actually, any type of swinging practice with a tennis racket or baseball bat is called suburi. In swordsmanship, we are all trying to develop a cut that is effortless but at the same time still effective, and powerful. To achieve this, we need to put in the reps or in other words, practice our suburi. We have to do our suburi because like all martial arts techniques, our cut is a perishable skill. In other words, it is ephemeral so if we don’t use it, we lose it. In swordsmanship, they say that your cut is only perfected “cut after cut” which implies that we have to be willing to put in the work to make it good. In the 1980s, there was a series of commercials for Dunkin Donuts featuring Fred the Baker. Each commercial was some aspect of Fred tiredly waking up before dawn and muttering to himself, "Time to make the donuts.” The commercial was implying that to get a quality product, you have put in the effort. If Fred doesn’t wake up and do his work, then we can’t enjoy his delicious and fresh donuts. In the martial arts it is the same. In order to be good, we have to wake up every morning and say, “Time to do suburi.” Muttering this mantra to ourselves when we first wake up and as a reminder throughout the day, helps us to get into a mindset of self-development. Interestingly, when we change the kanji pronunciation from suburi to sobori, it means “behavior” or “attitude” and thus we can see that suburi is really a mindset. Those that are willing to do suburi will get good. Every day we are standing on the precipice of change. Either we let ourselves deteriorate or we discipline ourselves to improve. Focusing on suburi as a mindset enables us to put in the work. If we want to lose weight, then not eating a donut is suburi. If we want to improve our ukemi, then coming to class early to work on it is suburi. If we want to buy a house, not wasting money on Starbucks is suburi. In the martial arts, we don’t improve by leaps and bounds but by small incremental changes or in other words, only cut after cut. The Japanese say, chiri mo tsumoreba yama to naru (塵も積もれば山となる) or “Even specks of dust if piled up can become mountains.” Understanding this, “time to do suburi” is a mantra that reminds us that battles are won by the little things that we do and not by grandiose gestures and thus specks of dust can become mountains. Saying to ourselves, “time to do suburi” helps to remind us to stay in the suburi mindset and focuses us to put in the work to achieve whatever it is we want.

Today’s goal: Come up with your own mantra that resonates with you and helps you stay on track. Mine is “brick by brick.”

Throwback Thursday - Being Human

Furuya Sensei posted this to his Daily Message on August 6, 2004.

Zen Saying: Shitenno wa Kongo-zue de iga wo muku (四天王は 金剛杖でいがを剥く) or “Even the Four Ferocious Guardians of the Faith Use the Diamond Staff of Infinite Wisdom to peal the burs off a chestnut.”

What this means is that even very great people have their humanity and suffer as regular humans.

Whether it seems like it or not, I think that all humans have equal shares of happiness and sadness. It is often the people who seem to have all the advantages can suffer and some people who almost nothing to their names at all can be very happy.

I don't think our station in life is due to fate or circumstances or whether we are happy or sad - I think it is all a personal choice. If we focus on the bad things in life, the world will seem very bad. If we choose to focus on the happy or positive things in our lives, our lives can appear to be very happy.

Kisaburo Ohsawa Sensei used to say, "Just practice good Aikido and enjoy. . . " He didn't mean that we can do anything we want as we please, but I think he meant that we should approach the hard and difficult training of Aikido with a positive and joyous attitude. Many students, I see, do not understand this point.

Typically, this saying is displayed with a picture depicting two mountain monks who are famous for their rigorous training deep in the mountains. From a thousand years ago, they are known for their courage and strength. In the picture, we see them using their staffs to break the sharp burrs off the chestnuts. This is pretty funny to me!

Even a great martial artist can show their weakness in the most humane way. Martial arts is not all strength and power and winning - it is after all about being very human.

Watch this video of Furuya Sensei demonstrating and explaining Aikido in 1990