To forgive is easy to understand but even harder to do. How can we call ourselves Aikidoists if we can't forgive others? Forgiving others is not for them but for us, but it is still one of the hardest things to do. To be a true Aikidoist is to first and foremost be a person of forgiveness.
I found this article written by John Stevens that I thought was particularly good. Recently, his translation of The Art of Peace by Morihei Ueshiba was featured on the TV show the Walking Dead. I thought it might be appropriate to post this so that students can get an idea of who Stevens Sensei is and how his translation influenced almost every Aikido student in the west. The Practice of the Way by John Stevens
Every human being is potentially enlightened; each one of us is a miniature shrine of the divine. But in order to manifest the treasures within, we need a suitable path to follow, proper vehicles for training, and good teachers to point us in the right direction.
The kind of path we finally select as our own Way is not important, but whatever we choose, it must be practiced.
“Practice of the Way” in Japanese is known as shugyo, “hard training that fosters enlightenment.” The purpose of shugyo is “to tighten up the slack, toughen the body, and polish the spirit.” One aspect of shugyo is keiko, an elegant term that signifies “using ancient wisdom to illuminate the present.” Every Way has a pantheon of illustrious predecessors—trailblazers who established their particular path after passing through dangerous, uncharted territory—who have left us an important legacy. It is that legacy which we encounter daily in keiko.
In the practice of calligraphy, for example, a beginning student (after first spending at least three years mastering the basic strokes) is set to work making exact copies of the masterpieces of Chinese and Japanese brushwork. Following ten, or better still, twenty years of reproducing all manner of scripts and styles, the practitioner has absorbed five thousand years of tradition and is now ready to be turned loose to develop a fresh, individual approach.
In keiko, the supreme virtue is patience. Once a young man petitioned a great swordsman to admit him as a disciple. “I’ll act as your live-in servant and train ceaselessly. How long will it take me to learn everything?”
“At least ten years,” the master replied.
“That’s too long,” the young man protested. “Suppose I work twice as hard as everyone else. Then how long will it take?” “Thirty years,” the master shot back. “What do you mean?” the anguished young man exclaimed. “I’ll do anything to master swordsmanship as quickly as possible!”
“In that case,” the master said sharply, “you will need fifty years. A person in such a hurry will be a poor student.” The young man was eventually allowed to serve as an attendant on condition that he neither ask about nor touch a sword. After three years, the master began sneaking up on the young man at all hours of the day and night to whack him with his wooden sword. This continued until the young man began to anticipate the attacks. Only then did formal instruction commence.
A second key element in keiko is kokoro, “heart, mind, spiritual essence.” All technique flows from the practitioner’s kokoro, and no amount of technical skill can compensate for inadequacies caused by an immature, disturbed, or stagnant mind.
Once I complained to a calligraphy teacher that my many obligations prevented me from practicing more. She replied, “Don’t worry. If you are improving your mind, you are improving your calligraphy.” Similarly, practitioners who demand to be taught an art’s secret techniques are told, “If your kokoro is true, your techniques will be correct.”
Morihei Ueshiba, the founder of Aikido, often spoke of the four virtues of keiko: bravery, wisdom, love, and empathy.
Bravery is at the top of the list, for we need to be strong and determined enough to make a firm commitment to practice. We need valor to help us contend with all the obstacles that block our path.
Wisdom is acquired through deep meditation and wide-ranging study; wisdom enables us to make intelligent decisions and to maintain things in proper perspective.
When one’s practice is sound and balanced, a natural kind of love forms between one’s teacher and one’s fellow trainees. One also falls in love with his or her Way and becomes completely devoted to it. (Such affection can even extend to one’s training uniform. I was so fond of my keikogi that I mended and patched it until the cloth disintegrated: I sorely grieved the passing of what other people would think of as a rag.)
At the highest levels of training, a profound empathy is felt for all creatures, along with the fervent hope that everyone else, too, will be able to perfect their own Way. One of the meanings of Aikido is”Arm in arm let’s travel the Path together.” Like a bodhisattva, we want all others to reach the goal with us.
Sometimes a more concentrated effort is needed in our practice. Morihei wrote, “Iron is full of impurities that weaken it: through forging, it becomes steel and it is transformed into a razor sharp blade. Human beings develop in the same fashion.”
Such forging, tanren in Japanese, can take a variety of forms. For one of my kendo teachers, it consisted of 1,000 strokes (3,000 on Sunday) of a heavy sword every morning for nearly half a century. For one of my calligraphy teachers, it was copying the Heart Sutra 10,000 times. For me, it was 1,000 straight days of outdoor training at a mountain temple.
Morihei concluded, “In your training, do not be in a hurry, for it takes a minimum of ten years to master the basics and advance to the first rung. Never think of yourself as an all-knowing perfected master; you must continue to train daily with your friends and students and progress together in the Way of Harmony.”
Perhaps the most important element of Practice of the Way is transmission. Civilization is sustained by the person-to-person, heart-to- heart transmission of the cultural treasures of humankind. I have had many fine teachers over the years but they all had one thing in common: through long years of shugyo they had become one with their Way. They taught by example—”what you are is far more important than what you say”—and they manifested the teaching in their entire being.
A real master truly delights in the Way. Even after sixty years of training, my Aikido teacher Rinjiro Shirata loved being in the dojo, and his favorite saying was, “Make the techniques anew each day!” Shirata Sensei was a peerless martial artist—when he was seventy- five years old he pinned Japan’s top pro wrestler—but the image that most lingers in my mind now that he is gone is his wonderful smile. It was the smile of enlightenment.
Source: http://www.lionsroar.com/the-practice-of-the-way/
Some of the simplest things that make us great are being forgotten. I was having dinner the other day with a high ranking Aikido teacher. He was wearing a nice watch and I complimented him on it. He asked why I didn't wear a watch since I obviously liked them and noticed his. He asked me, "Can you tell time?" I was a bit taken aback by his question. I quizzically thought to myself, "What?" as I answered, "yes." I guess he could see that I was perplexed by the inquiry and he elaborated. He said, "I am a school teacher and you'd be surprised how many kids can't tell time." This lead us into a lengthy discussion about the disadvantages that arise from losing traditional skills. Today more and more, technology is making our lives easier and easier. There is no time or necessity for things like telling time, spelling, handwriting or knowing how to drive manual transmission car. All of these former "inconveniences" have been replaced with things that are faster and require less skill. But what do we lose when we lose those skills?
There is an old adage in project management that goes, "Cheap, fast, good." Wikipedia defines it as: You are given the options of Fast, Good, and Cheap, and told to pick any two. Here Fast refers to the time required to deliver the product, Good is the quality of the final product, and Cheap refers to the total cost of designing and building the product. This triangle reflects the fact that the three properties of a project are interrelated, and it is not possible to optimize all three – one will always suffer. In other words you have three options:
On a basic level, these skills do their jobs of being able to tell time, being able to drive a car or being able to write. On a deeper level, telling time teaches math and numbers, driving manual teaches hand-eye coordination and writing teaches spatial reasoning. All of those things are perishable skills.
People today often think that Aikido is something that they can simply come back to and pick up where they leave off. Nothing is farther from the truth. Aikido, like driving, math, shooting or handwriting is a perishable skill. If one does not do it regularly, they will lose it.
It is always funny to see someone come back from a long layoff and try and do Aikido at the level that they left off at only to discover their skill has vanished. A couple of years ago a guy came back from a 15 year layoff where he left as a 20 something. During the class he was going really hard and I told him to "take it easy" and he scoffed at me. Sure enough the next day he emailed me that he "couldn't even get out of bed the next day" and decided to quit. What did he think was going to happen?
Studies have shown that professional athletes begin to see a decline in fitness after 10 days of inactivity. What does that mean for us that don't come to class regularly? Aikido requires good footwork, balance, coordination, timing and technique not to mention cardiovascular conditioning and muscle strength and endurance. All of those things decline expeditiously overtime.
In order to "stay in shape" one needs to put themselves into situations that forces them to maintain the skill somewhat. Forcing oneself to wear a watch, hand write notes or come to class regularly is the only way to keep those skills and the hidden benefits from deteriorating. As the old saying goes, "use it or lose it." Please come to class regularly.
As an avid watcher of the Walking Dead, I was pleasantly surprised to see O Sensei's book The Art of Peace pop up in one of the first episodes this season. Last Sunday night's episode featured the character Morgan and explained how he returned to sanity with a new outlook on life.
Morgan was suffering from a mental breakdown after losing his wife and son. In his grief he became obsessed with killing anything, everything and everyone. Only after he met and was defeated by a person using Aikido and O Sensei's philosophy of peace did he return to sanity.
It is kind of funny how only on TV can one's evolution be played out in 60 minutes. Most students don't come to Morgan's level of understanding or realization for 10 or 20 years.
To understand this it might be helpful to look at how one's own philosophy evolves over time in terms of jutsu an do and how one changes into the other.
In jutsu (術) students are only concerned with outside accomplishments and the physicalness of the art. This is the stage that all beginners start in where they are concerned with questions like, "Will this work?" or "Is it effective." Winning is the main goal at this time. Many are concerned with winning or losing and how it factors into their self-worth. It is not uncommon for this stage to be very physical and it is even more common for people to go overboard such as Morgan did when he lost his family. Some become so obsessed with winning, beating others or killing that it becomes addictive. They only feel good when they win or dominate and any other outcome or hiccup causes them to suffer. Sensei once talked about how some swordsman becoming so obsessed with live blade (shinken) work that they begin to yearn to kill.
In do (道) we start to see the progression or maturity of students as they become more "human." At this stage their self-worth is less associated with outside accomplishments and more toward inner understanding or mastering the self. Sometimes we have to fight until there is no one left to fight to realize that the only true opponent was ourselves. It is here where Morgan finds himself and like him we have a realization about life and come to understand the preciousness of life and the compassion for it. As we learn, we learn that all humans are inherently flawed and that to some degree it is not their fault. We, as in all of us, are ignorant to ourselves, not perfect and inherently flawed and that we too deserve kindness, compassion and forgiveness. In order to get it, and because we too want it too, we must in turn give it to others.
Now here is where the rubber meets the road. In order to get it, we must have the strength to give it. In order to get the strength to give it, we must train ourselves.
Aikido is the physical manifestation of this understanding and compassion. We understand, as the Dalai Lama stated, "that all humans suffer and all want to be happy." Because our lives are precious so then becomes all life. We can destroy others, but we choose not to and that doesn't make us weak. We understand that to destroy others is to destroy ourselves. It takes a tremendous amount of inner strength, integrity and character to choose the difficult path. O Sensei understood this and that is why he designed the techniques the way the are today so that we can practice everyday literally giving people compassion physically. To give compassion or to do true Aikido takes training and with every technique we are one step closer to being able to do it on our own when the time comes.
In the Walking Dead, Morgan is given a copy of The Art of Peace with the inscription, "Aikido means not to kill. Although nearly all creeds have a commandment against taking life, most of them justify killing for one reason or another. In Aikido, however, we try to completely avoid killing, even the most evil person." Cultivating inner strength requires three things: a philosophical structure, repetitious training and the desire to change. Morgan found a way out not only because he found Aikido, but because deep down inside he wanted to.
Here is a preview of the character Morgan and the video below you can see O Sensei's book at 00:39. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Va1UPrFXHKA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13KdVNCbGEM
Life is a mixture of dark and light. The natural tendency is to categorize dark as bad and light as good, but that is matter of perspective. In Buddhism, they talk about "seeing things as they are." To see things as they are is to see that all things are simultaneously good and bad and that they are only bad or good as Shakespeare would say, "if we think it so." For me, I try and look at things as lessons. I truly believe that in life, lessons can yield good even if they are born out of bad. It is matter of perspective. The graphic above deftly explains the taiji or yin-yang symbol. There is dark and light and in that dark exists some light and in the light exists some dark and together those four things are joined together by the circle of life. When we find ourselves up against a wall and things seem like they are not working out, it is helpful and even therapeutic to try and look for the light. I know that it is hard and seems like "new-age" mumbo jumbo, but based on the taiji, one can see that in order for darkness to exist it needs light and thus light needs dark to exist as well.
Aikido is the way that it is because we choose to see light in even the darkest of situations.
"Health is the greatest gift, contentment is the greatest wealth, a trusted friend is the best relative, a liberated mind is the greatest bliss." Recently being sick, I stumbled upon this quote by the Buddha and it really resonated with me. Sitting at home alone suffering through yet another illness brought home by my kids makes me wonder what would my life be like if this pain was an everyday thing?
We tend to treat our health and our bodies like we do a tube of toothpaste. When its full we use it carelessly, but when it is almost out we become more cognizant and use it sparingly. Only when we are at the risk of losing something do we try to conserve it. Our health is truly our greatest gift. It is part of our training to stay in shape, eat well and take care of our bodies.
Youth is coveted in today's world of sports and athletics where speed and strength are king. The modern athlete stereotype is a young 20-25 year old male who is six feet tall and has six-pack abs. This it seems is the quintessential athlete. Once any person gets to be 30 years old or older, they are considered "over the hill" and they are no longer competitive. A commonly heard phrase when talking about an aged athlete is that, "The game has passed them by." In the the martial arts, nothing could be farther from the truth.Modern athletics covets speed and strength whereas in the martial arts, we covet technique and experience. In theory, our techniques evolve as our understanding of the techniques evolve. The art doesn't "leave us behind" as martial artists because we are constantly refining ourselves. With this refinement we take into consideration our age and physicality. We understand that we "can't do it like we are young anymore" and thus strive to evolve with life's changes.
I once heard that a true martial artist doesn't begin to peak until they are in their sixties. This might seem crazy since modern athletes talk about peaking in ability at around 25 years old. This is true when we think about speed and strength and where we see them begin to decline in one's thirties. However, speed and strength are but a small aspect of the art. Besides speed and strength, there is timing, spacing and any number of technical aspects of the art not to mention strategy, tactics and the mental aspect of the art.
To be fast and strong is necessary in order to develop a base of skill, but the skill isn't static and many layers. The gift comes as we see our strength and speed decline and that causes us to look deeper into our art. This is where we start to hear people say that what they do, whether it is Aikido or basketball, is a way of life.
Aikido like all martial arts is a do (道) or a way of life. To think that one can only be successful when they are young is to negate life as a journey.
Below I have posted a couple of video from Baki the Grappler, a popular Japanese manga turned anime. In these videos, master Shibukawa Goki shows that strength and speed pale in comparison to technique and experience.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9JJ3VkWaS-I
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0NRq8exdzsw
It Will Pass: A Zen story A student went to his meditation teacher and said, “My meditation is horrible! I feel so distracted, or my legs ache, or I’m constantly falling asleep. It’s just horrible!” “It will pass,” the teacher said matter-of-factly. A week later, the student came back to his teacher.“ My meditation is wonderful! I feel so aware, so peaceful, so alive! It’s just wonderful!’ “It will pass,” the teacher replied matter-of-factly.
"Nothing is either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." - William Shakespeare, Hamlet.
The path of Aikido has no destination - the training itself is a journey. Along this journey, there are ups and there are downs, but what the training is teaching us to do is how to take the ukemi of life. We get thrown down, we get back up. We throw others down, they get back up. It is not possible for us to be only the uke or only the nage. The cycle continuously repeats, but as martial artists meet each encounter with equanimity.
If we do good, we accept it. If we do poorly, we accept it. It is all par for the course in that we are learning how to meet the turbulence of life with a sense of calmness and poise not being pulled this way or that way.
With this, we can see how training affects life. Training is training and whatever the outcome it too will pass. We will never get any where on the the journey of life if we get too pumped by the highs or get too bogged down with the lows. Life is too short.
Fewer and fewer people today are participating in sumo. So much so that none of the Yokozuna or Grand Champions today are from Japan. This trend is becoming so worrisome that the Japanese have even come up with an expression for it. It's called the "3k." The 3ks are kitanai kiken and kitsui or dirty, dangerous and demanding. I think this goes not only for Japan but also for any "developed" nation in these modern technologically advanced times. Today, everything is so instant that people have become adverse to things that make them uncomfortable and thus things supremely traditional like sumo begin to suffer. As a martial artist, we don't have the luxury to forego the 3ks. Training is supposed to be a bit dirty (we are all sweaty), a bit dangerous (it is a martial art) and quite demanding (how else are we going to get good?). Being uncomfortable just means that we are growing and being exposed to things that we are not accustomed to.
I have posted a video that follows the life of an apprentice sumo wrestler so that we can see what it is like to train in one of the most demanding traditional Japanese arts. As always, sometimes we need to peek into another person's life to gain perspective on our own.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kvZtImaL-1M
Do you want to get good at Aikido? This infographic on happiness succinctly demonstrates that giving up certain thought patterns can lead to a path of happiness. Just replace the word "happy" with "Aikido" and the road map to success appears. Sensei often talked about how "letting go" instead of "acquiring" was the true path to enlightenment. We often think that acquiring and succeeding are one in the same, but nothing could be farther from the truth. The true victory is in letting go of limiting thoughts and beliefs that cause us to suffer. Happiness like Aikido is not a destination but rather a path of life and this path is paved with letting go of the thoughts and beliefs that limits us.
Soldiers out in the field are under a constant of barrage stress. In order to complete the task at hand the military teaches them to "compartmentalize" problems into tasks in order gain success. By compartmentalizing, big things are made smaller by chunking them down into palatable bite size pieces. Some characterize this compartmentalization as F.O.C.U.S. Follow one course until success then one moves on to the next task.
In Aikido, the techniques have a lot of moving parts and it is easy to become overwhelmed. Each technique is broken down in to steps and each technique, no matter the teacher, has the same hallmark steps - ikkyo is ikkyo but just has some different nuances. In order to make the techniques "work" students should do every step and give each step the necessary focus.
How much emphasis and time is required of each step changes as a result of one becoming more experienced and/or skillful. It may appear that an expert skips steps, but noting could be farther from the truth. An expert still gives each step its due, but sometimes just more quickly.
An often miss quoted Benjamin Franklin quote is, " Take care of the pennies and the dollars will take care of themselves" is apropos to getting good at Aikido. To get good at Aikido, or anything else for that matter, one just needs to F.O.C.U.S on each step.
Should training be hard? Yes, but...
The word hard is defined as something, "solid, firm, and resistant to pressure; not easily broken, bent, or pierced" which implies that whatever it is is seemingly insurmountable. The word "hard" then brings with it a connotation that something is impossible or at least highly improbable. Aikido training teaches us that, although something is difficult, nothing is impossible. After a shift in one's perspective, training can move from being hard to being "challenging."
The word challenging is defined as, "testing one's abilities; demanding" and brings with it a sense that the situation is daring us to show our best selves. The training can then be a proving ground where we learn perseverance, determination, courage or any other seemingly hidden positive trait.
Both the words hard and challenging are adjectives and by definition adjectives modify or describe nouns or pronouns in order to qualify them. Therefore, they merely exist to bring about perspective to something.
Henry Ford said, "Whether you think you can, or you think you can't - you're right." If we perceive something as being hard and insurmountable then it will be hard and we won't overcome it. If we see something as a challenge to inspire our best, it will bring forth our greatness regardless of the outcome.
When I was a student, many of us would arrive well before class started to get in some extra practice and prepare ourselves for class. Sometimes we did this to tire ourselves out and make the class more challenging in order to as Ken Furuya Sensei would say, "to get the experience of what it would be like to do Aikido completely exhausted."
We made the training "harder" in order to challenge ourselves. We create the conditions for our own experiences and thus training is only as hard as a function of how we approach it. Don't get me wrong, Aikido training isn't easy per se, but it is only as hard as we make it. So yes, Aikido training is hard, but that depends entirely on us and how we approach our training. Sensei used to say, "Cry in the dojo, laugh on the battlefield." We can only do that if we challenge ourselves to be the best by training hard when we are in the dojo.
Japanese Iaido teacher Isao Machii is one of the most well known Iaido teachers in the world. He holds numerous cutting records and is even in the Guinness Book of World Records. His cutting precision and timing is most likely at the top of the spectrum. In this video he cuts a 100mph fastball in half while standing 30 feet away. Incredible! One of his greatest feats was cutting a BB in half as it was shot directly at him. Isao Machii is famous and many of his feats can be witnessed on Youtube. Isao Machii's feats with a sword are incredible, but are they unattainable? The only difference between Isao Machii and anyone else is that he started something and kept going. I wish I could say for sure that he was gifted with incredible timing, eye sight or something else, but I don't know any of that for sure. What I do know is that he has perfected a skill to the highest level and to do that one needs to put the work in. There is no such thing as a phenom.
It doesn't matter if we want to be a mechanic, a lawyer, Aikidoist or a swordsman, it first requires that we start and then it requires that we keep going. Isao Machii seems to stand alone and in a certain sense he does because all others have either never started or have long since quit. Cutting 100mph fastballs is at the juncture where determination meets perseverance.
https://youtu.be/XSvrIZKI8mk
“Sadness gives depth. Happiness gives height. Sadness gives roots. Happiness gives branches. Happiness is like a tree going into the sky, and sadness is like the roots going down into the womb of the earth. Both are needed, and the higher a tree goes, the deeper it goes, simultaneously. The bigger the tree, the bigger will be its roots. In fact, it is always in proportion. That’s its balance.” - Osho The "thing" that we are striving most to obtain by training is balance. This balance not only physically, but mentally and emotionally too. We strive to bring balance to every part of our lives, inner and outer. In order to find balance, we sometimes must know the depths of things, but it takes courage to face some things in their depth regardless if they are good or bad.
On the mat, we are confronted physically but there is a huge mental/emotional component as well. The more one trains, the more comfortable they get with themselves and it is with this repetitiveness that we gain an understanding of ourselves. The entirety of the technique then becomes a metaphor for how to deal with life. We are confronted, we maintain balance, and we address the situation appropriately. It then does not matter if they situation is physical, mental or emotional; it all gets addressed the same - with balance.
I found an interesting video about Aikido Sensei Andre Nocquet (1914-1999). Andre Nocquet was a famous post-war Aikido student who was a direct student of O Sensei's. He is credited with bringing Aikido to France. This video is very interesting in that there is a lot of candid footage of O Sensei not only doing Aikido but also discussing it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSRdNWGGqXA
In the dojo, one of the things we stress is that the students be aware of themselves at all times. This awareness creates a sense of responsibility. When we see a piece of paper on the ground, "we have to" pick it up. The meaning behind "we have to" is the responsibility that is born out of awareness. Since we see something, we must act on it. There is a Japanese proverb that goes, "zen wa isoge" or that good deeds should be done quickly without hesitation.
A good student is one who has balance, both physically and mentally. Aikido is a martial art and thus because its techniques can be lethal, it requires a certain amount of personal responsibility. In order to be responsible, one must be aware first. As the old saying goes, "One has to know there is a problem before they can act on it."
If one is taught to be self-aware and notice things and be responsible for them in the dojo then they might be able to carry that over into their daily lives. If they can see it, then they can act on it and, hopefully when they do, it will be a natural act that is done quickly at the exact right moment and done with good character. To be unaware of oneself is to act without character and to be irresponsible. All martial arts teach responsibility because responsibility is the virtue that ensures that when we do act that we will act accordingly.
Decisiveness is one of the key factors to success in not only battle, but in life as well. Being decisive means being able to take control of opportunities when they present themselves. In Japanese this idea of seizing the initiative is called sen (先). Timing is super important in being able to seize the advantage and therefore there are many different types of sen. Go no sen or ato no sen (後の先) means to take initiative after the opponent has attacked. It can be thought of as a counter attack. Senken or sometimes called senken no mei (先見の明) means to take initiative in anticipation of the partner's attack. Ken no sen means that during the onset of the bout one seizes the initiative first by setting up the opponent. Tai no sen is to wait until the moment of the attack to seize the initiative as the opponent opens themselves up to attack or some use this to mean to feign before the attack. Sen no sen means to seize the initiative before they seize the initiative. Sensei described sen no sen as, "move before they move." Sen sen no sen in Sensei's terms then means to move before they move to move where the initiative to move comes from an almost sixth sense. One would move before they even knew they were going to move.
Generally a beginner can only employ go no sen where they are waiting to be attacked because they cannot "read" their opponents movement. The more seasoned or intermediate practitioner is better at reading their opponents movements and thus can start to use ken no sen and move first. The expert can read their opponents movement but they also can start to "sense" their opponents intention and can then make use of sen no sen. Only someone with countless hours on the mat and master's level of ability can fluidly use their sixth sense and pull off sen sen no sen.
The "Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity" quote attributed to Seneca is apropos to sen. Training requires that students and teachers alike be determined and diligent in their efforts. In order to be successful, one must put in the time so that they can be ready when the time comes and thus seize the day.
My favorite action movie stars are usually ones that are martial artists, but I am amazed by how some actors work so hard to transform themselves into martial artists for their roles. I like to watch the "making of" section of action movie DVDs to see how the actors trained to portray martial artists in movies. One of my favorite behind the scenes was for the movie Ninja Assassin, which was a mediocre movie, but the training and transformation that the pop star Rain underwent was amazing. I find it amazing when an actor with no formalized training trains so hard that they look as if they are trained. For instance, did you know that the actors in the movie the Karate Kid only trained for three months? Quite impressive. One of my favorite action stars is Toshiro Mifune. Mifune had no formalized sword training, but worked assiduously with the fight choreographer Yoshio Sugino, who was a student of O Sensei's, to make himself look as if he was formally trained in the sword. Many don't know that Mifune was an expert in Yabusame or horseback archery as well. One of my favorite scenes throughout all his movies comes from the movie Hidden Fortress directed by Akira Kurosawa. In the scene (below) he fights with a yari or spear with a rival leader. Sensei once told us that the spear duel in this scene was part of an old spear kata and it has something like 108 movements. Watching Mifune wield the yari one can see that he must have put in countless hours to make his technique appear at an experts level. They have to have. If you watch their footwork closely, it is balanced and they don't wield the yari with their upper bodies which both are indicative of being "trained." That is why this scene is one of my favorites. How did these actors become experts? What was the punchline to the old Carnegie Hall joke, "practice"? To become an expert at anything, one needs to practice.
https://vimeo.com/7051676
The things kids pick up naturally is kind of funny. Lately, my son who is almost three years old has been saying, "Life is what you make of it." Where did he get that? Was it the Disney channel or from something I said? Who knows. But, the point remains that "Life is what we make of it." Nothing more and nothing less. We choose our life. I stumbled upon a quote from Uchiyama Kosho's book titled, The Dharma of Homeless Kodo which is a series of Dharma talks by Sawaki Kodo that struck me and I hope it speaks to you too. Enjoy! To you who have just begun brooding over life
What a shame to have been born a human being and to spend your whole life worrying. You should reach the point where you can be happy to have been born a human.
Birth, old age, sickness and death – we can't fool around with these ultimate facts.
Reality: getting a handle on this must be our goal. Don't get stuck in categories.
It's strange that not a single person seriously considers his own life. For ages, we've been carrying around something uncooked. And we comfort ourselves with the fact that it's the same for the others too. That's what I call group stupidity: thinking that we just have to be like the others. Satori means creating your own life. It means waking up from group stupidity.
In a part of Manchuria, the carts are pulled by huge dogs. The driver hangs a piece of meat in front of the dog's nose, and the dog runs like crazy to try to get at it. But of course he can't. He's only thrown his meat after the cart has finally reached its destination. Then in a single gulp, he swallows it down.
It's exactly the same with people and their pay checks. Until the end of the month they run after the salary hanging in front of their noses. Once the salary is paid, they gulp it down, and they're already off: running after the next payday.
Nobody can see further than the end of their nose. Everyone believes that their life somehow has meaning, but they're really no different from swallows: the males gather food, the females sit on the eggs.
Most people aren't following any clear approach to life. They get by with makeshift methods, like rubbing lotion on a cramped shoulder.
The question is: why are you straining your forehead so much?
If you aren't careful, you'll spend your whole life doing nothing besides waiting for your ordinary-person hopes to someday be fulfilled.
Source: http://terebess.hu/english/sawaki-to-you.html
This message is a mixture of things that I am interested in and things that I find that I hope can help other people in their journeys. Some things I post here just serendipitously pop up or someone sends it to me and then I think, "Oh, this would be great for..." and I send it to them or sometimes I post it. The last two days I stumbled upon these videos about Japanese culture and how it is viewed through the eyes of traditional carpentry. I firmly believe that learning about other people, other things or other arts can help us gain a better perspective about ourselves. To see how others live helps us to understand how we live. Their passions, love and suffering are the same as our passion, love and suffering. As the Dalai Lama said, "We are all the same." One of the greatest skills to acquire is the ability to see things from another person's perspective.
I usually like to vary my message/posts and not post the same things or too many videos in a row, but I really liked these two videos. They really inspire me and help me to understand Japanese culture better. I hope that they inspire you in whatever you do. Please enjoy and have a wonderful day!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3at1K-SzCk&feature=youtu.be
