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

Overcoming the Impossible

“The only way to discover the limits of the possible
is to go beyond them into the impossible.” - Arthur C. Clarke

The best martial artists believe in the impossible. In Japanese, to “to accomplish the impossible” is fukanou wo kanou ni suru (不可能を可能にする). To believe in the impossible is more than having a positive mental attitude. A positive mental attitude is about having optimism. Believing that the impossible is possible is a form of willfulness that is tinged with a bit of pessimism. The pessimism in this sense is the disbelief that something is impossible to accomplish. A martial artist has to be a little bit stubborn. It is said that the best student has iji (意地) or “willfulness” and it is the teacher’s job to turn that willfulness into konjou (根性) or “fighting spirit.” Therefore, a martial artist has to steadfastly believe that if something or some idea exists in this world, then it was created by a human being and if it was created by a human, then it can be reproduced, achieved, overcome, or defeated. Spitefully, a martial artist says to themselves, yonojisho ni fukanoutoiumoji wa nai (余の辞書に不可能という文字は無い) or “The word ‘impossible’ does not exist in my dictionary!” Normal people have self-limiting beliefs. These self-limiting beliefs cause them to judge things as being possible or impossible. If they deem it as possible, then they will try to accomplish it and if they think it is impossible, they won’t even try. For instance, since the late 1800s, people have been trying to run a mile in under four minutes. Prior to 1954, it was thought that running a mile in under four minutes was physically and physiologically impossible. On May 6, 1954, Roger Bannister ran a mile in 3:59.04. His record only lasted for 46 days and since that time thousands of people, even teenagers, have run a sub four minute mile. The current world record is 3:43.13 and is held by Hicham El Guerrouj. Martial arts training is all about overcoming the impossible. From the moment we start training, we are confronted by things that are seemingly impossible. For instance, people are trying to hit us with all their might, and we are supposed not to deftly defend their strike but also do it calmly as well. All martial arts are skill based. If it is a skill, then anyone can achieve it and gain some level of proficiency with time and experience. In the beginning, it might seems as if getting good is a shinannowaza (至難の業) or “Herculean task” because we move our bodies in such a clunky way and can’t seem to move with the same precision or smoothness as our seniors. Later on, with every foe or challenge we overcome, our ability grows, and we can take on bigger challenges and stronger opponents. At some point, we realize the transparentness of our self-limiting beliefs and not only come to doubt them but challenge them as well. This is where martial arts training crosses over into daily life. Arthur C. Clarke said, “The only way to discover the limits of the possible is to go beyond them into the impossible.” In the martial arts and in life, impossible is only a state of mind. Martial artists understand this and that is why the best martial artists believe in the impossible.

Today’s goal: Let go of your self-limiting beliefs and think, “If they can do it, so can I.”

Watch this video of goats to better understand what is impossible

Tipping Point

The best martial artists patiently toil towards the tipping point. The tipping point is defined as “the critical point in a situation, process, or system beyond which a significant and often unstoppable effect or change takes place.” In Japanese, one way to say, “tipping point” is ichidaitenki (一大転機) which literally translates as “one big turning point.” The tipping point is this seemingly magical place where all our efforts pay off and we bakeru (化ける) or “dramatically and unexpectedly improve.” The main problem is that none of us knows exactly when or where the tipping point will take place. Another notable and irritating problem with tipping points are that they are preceded by odoriba (踊場) or “plateaus.” Plateaus are these annoying flatlands where we don’t necessarily get any worse but nothing seems to be getting any better either. Interestingly, odoriba also means “dance hall” which implies that a plateau is just a place where we feel like we are just aimlessly dancing around while we wait for our efforts to pay off. In the martial arts, when we throw someone, we are looking for the tenshin (転身) or “pivot point” in the technique. The martial arts pivot point is this optimal body position which creates the most mechanical advantage to throw or unbalance an opponent. In class, the teacher shows us physically where the pivot point is which will generate the most leverage to create a clean and smooth throw and efficiently use our opponent's energy or momentum against them. Later on, as the attacks become faster and the throws become quicker, we have to know where the pivot point is by “feel.” To be able to feel the pivot point requires patience and experience. Furuya Sensei would often quote his Zen master Bishop Kenko Yamashita as saying, “Nandemo omoidori ni ikanai” which means “Nothing goes the way you want it to.” Because nothing goes the way we think or want it to, we must have patience. Seneca said, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” Therefore, to have luck or reach the tipping point, we must prepare ourselves by putting in the work. John Ruskin said, “The highest reward for a person's toil is not what they get for it, but what they become by it.” The Japanese version to Ruskin’s assertion could be 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.” Martial arts training is about incremental improvement and frustratingly some of those changes aren’t necessarily visible to the naked eye. Understanding this, the only thing we can do is be patient and toil on. In the martial arts and in life, when things aren’t going your way, don’t lose hope or give up. I can’t tell you when your tipping point will happen but all I can promise you is that if you patiently toil, it will happen sooner or later - I promise. The best martial artists know that nothing happens overnight and that’s why they patiently toil towards the tipping point.

Today’s goal: Don’t lose hope. Be patient and toil towards your tipping point.

Watch this video to better understand the tipping point

Be Positive

The best martial artists have positivity bias. In Japanese, Kokorogake (心掛け) is one way to say “way of thinking.” Kokoro means “heart” or “mind” and gake means “to hold.” Thus, the way we think is based upon the things that we hold in our hearts. Anais Nin said, “We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.” A normal person tends to think more negatively or be more negatively biased. Negativity bias means that “our natural tendency is to give weight to and remember negative experiences or interactions more than positive ones.” Martial artists are not normal people and so they tend to think of things in a more positive way. Don’t get me wrong, martial artists have their bad days too, but the difference is that they don’t allow themselves to wallow around in their misery and if they do, it is not for too long. To have a positive mental attitude is to have “a mental and emotional attitude that focuses on the bright side of life and one that expects positive results.” One metaphor for a positive mental attitude can be something called komorebi. Komorebi (木漏れ日), in Japanese, means the “sunlight coming in through the trees.” In the forest, when the trees darken the light of the day, we can focus on the dark or take some solace in the little rays of sunlight that are peeking through the branches. Seeing the sunlight peek through is natsukashii (懐かしい) or “nostalgic” but in this sense it means the “nice feelings” that focusing on the rays of light bring us. Martial artists strive to live their lives in the present moment by focusing more on the good rather than doomsdaying on the bad. In the Hagakure, Yamamoto Tsunetomo wrote, “There is surely nothing other than the single purpose of the present moment. A man's whole life is a succession of moment after moment. There will be nothing else to do, and nothing else to pursue.” Therefore, a martial artist knows that focusing on the positive things might not change the outcome, but it makes the unbearable just a little bit more bearable. In training, it is the same way. Every day in class, we are supposed to be challenging ourselves to improve. To improve, we focus on changing the minutest details of each technique which we know will influence the whole. By focusing on the small things that we can change, we are unknowingly teaching ourselves how to focus on the good and not catastrophize on the negative things which we may not be able to change. For instance, sometimes when we can’t best our partner, the only thing we can do is keep attacking. By not giving up and with every repeated attack, we learn to have heart or to have unwavering perseverance in the face of adversity. With time and experience, this mindset then carries over into our daily lives and we learn to focus on the good or the things that we can change. Henry Ford famously said, “If you think you can do a thing or think you can't do a thing, you're right.” Thus, we learn that what we choose to focus on is a choice. We can choose to see the dark or we can choose to see the sunlight. The best martial artists have positivity bias and so they always choose to see the little rays of sunlight breaking through the trees.

Today’s goal: Nothing is 100% bad. Choose to focus on the good even if it’s only 2% good.

Watch this video about fishing to better understand a positive attitude

Be Resilient

“The imperturbable mind is the secret of warfare.” - Adachi Masahiro

A good martial artist rolls with the punches. In Japanese, utarezuyoi (打たれ強い) means “to be able to take a strong hit.” Being able to take a hit is a metaphor that is intended to mean “be resilient.” In a martial arts sense, resiliency should look like indifference. We should never show any reaction to any situation or opponent because how we react gives away our intention or level of ability which our opponents will use to defeat us. One way to say, “indifferent” in Japanese is kiganai (氣がない). Kiganai translates as “no energy” but from a martial arts standpoint it is supposed to mean that our energy is not easily moved or swayed. To be swayed is to mindlessly react. A good martial artist is not easily swayed and thus always acts mindfully and appropriately. Indifference is an attitude that demonstrates to those that would intend to harm us that we are ready and thus don’t care who they are, how big they are, what they do or what the circumstances are. In Japan during the Edo period (1603 - 1867), a popular martial artist’s pun was kamawanu (鎌輪ぬ) which meant “we don’t care.” One way this pun was often displayed on a sign was with a sickle (kama), a rice bowl or chawan (wa) and the hiragana character (nu). Kamawanu was a warning to the people who would enter the dojo that we don’t care and won’t hesitate to fight you so you should be on your best behavior. Training teaches us how to be indifferent to all opponents or circumstances. For instance, in class, when we first learn to roll, we are afraid to roll, and our rolls are kind of boxy. The more we practice, the more our rolls smooth out and the more indifferent we become to doing it. Later, the better we are at rolling, the harder our opponents can throw us and we barely even think about the whole act of rolling. The same thing happens when we encounter bigger or stronger opponents or when we face multiple opponents. Understanding this, the dojo becomes a microcosm of life. In life and in the martial arts, things are going to happen, and every foe or adversity will seem bigger than life but regardless, we still have to face that adversity. The martial arts teach us to be indifferent to adversity, but that doesn’t mean to be careless. It means that, as a martial artist, we don’t care who we face because we are going to stand up regardless and standing up to adversity just becomes another day on the job. Thus, no matter how hard we are hit or who hits us, we should never show that it affects us and that is why the best martial artists roll with the punches.

Today’s goal: Whatever BS comes your way today, be indifferent and take that punch.

Watch this video to better understand resiliency

Accept Change

替えることは勇氣を持たなければなりません
Kaeru koto wa yuuki wo mota nakereba narimasen
To change you need to be brave.

The best martial artists embrace change. A martial artist has to embrace change because they know as Heraclitus once said, “The only constant in life is change.” Normal people fear change and resist it because they perceive it as being uncomfortable and scary. A martial artist isn’t a normal person and they know kaeru koto wa yuuki wo mota nakereba narimasen (替えることは勇氣を持たなければなりません) or  that “to change you need to be brave.” Martial artists know that comfort and fear are the currency that they have to pay to get the change that they want. In terms of change, there are four distinct levels in learning: shu (守), ha (破), ri (離), and myou (妙). Shu is the beginning or rote stage of learning where we precisely master the form or kihon-waza (基本技) or where we change our bodies into the art. Ha is the details stage where we break the kihon-waza into its smallest details and gain a real understanding of the technique and solidify the change. Ri is the transcendence where we lose the form entirely and are completely changed. The form does not disappear but transcends to where we can see it but in a certain way we cannot. In Buddhism they call this shikisokuzeku (色即是空) or “form is emptiness, emptiness is form.” At the end, shuhari transforms into myou which is the last stage but it really isn’t a stage but rather what ri or true mastery looks like. Myou is a person’s enlightenment. When we watch martial arts masters move, their movements seem almost supernatural or not of this world - that is myou. Myou means “wondrous” or “mysterious” where we can see that it is Aikido or Karate, but at the same time not really Aikido or Karate. For instance, in swordsmanship, we are taught to defend our centerline with a strong stance. Miyamoto Musashi’s myou can be seen in his happou biraki (八方開き) or “open on all eight sides” stance where he is seemingly completely open to attack and not defending his centerline. A normal person cannot stand with all eight sides completely open - they would get completely destroyed. To get to Musashi’s level of myou requires a lot of change. Musashi’s completely open stance is a kind of metaphor for martial artists in that to get to his level of enlightenment or change requires a certain level of vulnerability. Researcher Brene Brown said, “Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” Therefore, to truly change requires vulnerability and a lot of courage. We need vulnerability to trust the process and we need courage to step into the unknown. In life and in the martial arts, change is never comfortable. However, if we perceive it as painful and bad, then it will be painful and bad. If we can perceive change as being the gateway to our greatest selves, then the fear and uncomfortableness is a little bit more tolerable and manageable. The best have the courage to be open and vulnerable to the possibility of what can be and that’s why the best martial artists embrace change.

Today’s goal: When you feel the pangs of fear creep in, have courage and say to yourself, “I am open and vulnerable to the possibilities of what can be.”

Watch this video to better understand change

Value of Defeat

“Failure is the key to success; each mistake teaches us something.” - Morihei Ueshiba

The best martial artists understand the value of defeat. Most people, even seasoned practitioners, think that the martial arts are about winning and losing. However, the goal of the martial arts is not to vanquish our foes or to even win. The true goal of martial arts training is to change - change into better people. Therefore, losing is almost a necessity. In losing, we receive the two greatest gifts: humility and graciousness. We can exhibit humility and grace in winning but we cannot learn humility or grace in winning. Therefore, the only way to learn humility and grace and ultimately become a better person is to lose. Author Steven Aitchison wrote, “People change for two main reasons: either their minds have been opened or their hearts have been broken.” Understanding Aitchison’s quote, our hearts have to break in order for our minds to be opened. Interestingly, the Japanese kanji 心 is interchangeably used as either “heart” or “mind” depending on the context and lends itself to this idea of the heartbreaking creates an opening in the mind. Understanding this, the idea is that a person who has never lost will be incapable of showing true humility or true graciousness. We have to lose in order to learn the value of humility and when we have learned that then we naturally come off as being gracious. In most cases, we cannot be truly gracious without a sense of humility. When people watch Aikido or just about any other martial art, they are naturally only focused on the nage (投げ) or the one “doing the technique.” It is only human nature to focus on the hero as we identify with their dominance or confidence which we desire to have in our own lives. However, being the nage is the culmination of ability but to get there we must first focus on being the uke (受け) or the one who “receives the technique.” The reason why is because to take ukemi (受け身) or “receive the technique” is to be on the losing end of the collaboration. By taking the ukemi, we are unknowingly teaching ourselves humility as we not only accept but perfect the losing side of the partnership. In the martial arts, it is said that “winning too much is a bad habit.” Winning too often or being the nage too much is bad for us because it feeds our egos and that is why losing is so crucial to our growth in the martial arts. Perhaps that is why in the martial arts we are forced to take ukemi because to take ukemi is the physical practice of higher conscious concepts like humility, perseverance, or courage just to name a few. Someone once said, “Never let success get to your head and never let failure get to your heart.” Understanding this, winning, or losing is not really the point. In the martial arts and in life, we are all searching for a way to positively experience the ups and the downs. Losing teaches us so much more than winning but the thing which all the best martial artists are trying to really lose is their egos and that is perhaps why O’Sensei said, “Failure is the key to success; each mistake teaches us something.” Martial artists aren’t losers, but they understand the value of defeat.

Today’s goal: Nelson Mandela once said, “I never lose. I either win or I learn.”

Watch this video featuring Denzel Washington to better understand losing

Vigilance in Victory

“When you think you’re safe is precisely when you’re most vulnerable.”
- Shimada Kambei, Seven Samurai

A good martial artist never lets their guard down. An often-quoted trope in martial arts training is that we should be “striving for balance.” The interesting thing is that we must strive for balance but never attain it. That is because to be balanced is to have “the right amount — not too much or too little — of any quality, which leads to harmony or evenness.” To be “vigilant” or youjinkengo (用心堅固) means that we “keep a careful watch for possible danger or difficulties” and to do so requires that we be ready to attack or defend at all times. Therefore, to be vigilant, we have to at least be 51% or more on the ready and if we are in a state of balance, then we are neither ready or not ready but since we are neither then we are not ready. Therefore, by definition, balance is the opposite of vigilance. An argument can be made that by being balanced or at ease, we have a better sense of clarity from which to spring from. This might be true but most of us might find complacency and mistake it for balance. Perhaps that is why we encourage people to “strive” for balance instead of advocating that they “attain” it. To be ready means to not let our guard down. In Japanese, one way to say “to let one's guard down” is ki wo yurusu (氣を許す). Ki in this sense means “mind” and yurusu means “to allow” and so it is implied that to let our guard down is to allow our minds to drift or lose focus. When I was a student and we got lazy, Furuya Sensei used to scold us by saying, “Don’t fall asleep.” Explaining this, Sensei once wrote: “We must continually be determined in our own minds and hearts to be constantly aware and on the ball. Without this strong commitment and direction in our heads, we will always be a little slow and always and always late to the draw. Eventually, when the opponent attacks and beats us and has already left, then we might even wake up!” Thus, Sensei didn’t mean to literally not fall asleep physically but to be ever vigilant and not lose focus mentally. One of my favorite quotes from the movie Seven Samurai is where Kambei says to Shichiroji, “When you think you’re safe is precisely when you’re most vulnerable.” Victories and feeling safe have a way of lulling us into complacency and all martial artists know that complacency is the road to defeat. The best opponents are willing to wait and be patient for us to fall asleep and for complacency to set in. When we lower our guards and our swords get dull, then they will attack us. A Japanese proverb that supports this idea of being ever vigilant is kattekabutonoo wo shimeyo (勝って兜の緒を締めよ) or “to tighten your helmet after a victory.” The meaning is that when we are victorious or when things are going well, we have the tendency to let our guard down and so we must be vigilant even in victory and tighten our helmets just to be safe. Understanding this, a good martial artist is ever vigilant and thus never lets their guard down.

Today’s goal: Don’t be a good victim. Always be diligent in your efforts but completely aware of your surroundings.

Watch this short video to better understand vigilance

Asking For Help

The best martial artists ask for help. There are only two types of people who don’t need help: gods and liars. Gods aren’t people and they won’t or can’t ask for help and since none of us are gods and martial artists don’t lie, then even the best at times need sukedachi (助太刀) or “help.” Sukedachi means “help” or “assistance in a fight” but it directly translates as “Help with a big sword.” This could mean that the person needs assistance with a heavy burden or needs the help of someone with a big (or strong) sword. In the old days, a martial artist never spoke about their weaknesses, shortcomings, or needs. One reason for this was because a samurai was always supposed to be proud and as such the proverb goes: “A samurai, even when he has not eaten and is hungry, uses a toothpick like a lord.” Another reason for a person to be stoic was because Japanese society adheres to a group mentality mindset where the success or harmony of the group is valued over the individual and expressing one’s individuality would be considered selfish. The martial arts reason to hide one’s shortcoming was because it was thought that if others knew of our suki (隙) or “weaknesses,” then they would tsukeiru (付け入る) or “use it to their advantage” and defeat us. This martial mindset is understandable and even warranted to some degree. However, the way a modern martial artist looks at it is that a lower caliber martial artist tries to hide their shortcomings, situation, or circumstances. At this level, hiding openings is more about embarrassment. By asking for help or allowing people to see who they really are makes us feel uncomfortable and we think that it will make us appear weak. It is said that at a high level, a martial artist has no openings. By openly displaying their shortcoming, it takes makes the weakness into a strength because they are aware and are not ashamed or scared of it. Therefore, to admit that we need help demonstrates a high level of ability because to ask for help requires a certain amount of awareness, humility, and courage. One of the things which I love to hear is the sound of people rolling before and after class. In addition to the sound, what is especially wonderful is when people are practicing their rolls and a senior student is helping them. This before and after class interaction between students is a demonstration of the health of a dojo because it is an indication of the level of mutual collaboration, trust, and dedication. A person who doesn’t trust won’t ask and a person who is not dedicated will not help. A dojo is a special place where people come to grow together but that growth will only occur if the teacher and the students work together because as Henry Ford once said, “Coming together is a beginning; keeping together is progress; working together is success.” If you need help, don’t be afraid to ask. Asking for help doesn’t show that you are weak - it shows that you have the courage and humility to ask. That is why the best martial artists ask for help.

Today’s goal: Furuya Sensei used to say, “It is better to ask and bear a moment of shame, than not to ask and endure a lifetime of ignorance.”

No Destinations

武道はあてなき旅
Budo wa atenakitabi
The martial arts are a journey without a destination.

The best martial artists know that there’s no there there. In the martial arts, it is said, budo wa atenakitabi (武道はあてなき旅)  or that “the martial arts are a journey without a destination.” Thus, there is no there that we are trying to get to. There is no destination because the martial arts journey or douchuu (道中) is about self-development not self-perfection. If we think that there’s a destination, then our minds create an end point and a predetermined amount of time to get there. When we don’t get there or don’t meet our time goal, then we are apt to quit. Also, by thinking that there’s a finish line or end point, then our minds have already created a limitation and limitations in the martial arts mean death. Miyamoto Musashi said, ”It takes 1,000 days to forge the spirit and 10,000 more days to polish it.” A day consists of working eight or more hours and so the math works out to about 30 years without a day off. Author Malcolm Gladwell asserts that it takes 10,000 hours of study for the average person to become an expert but in Japan, a person is not considered a takumi (匠) or master level craftsman until they’ve spent 60,000 hours refining their skills. That’s the equivalent of working eight hours a day for 20.5 years without a day off. Martial arts is considered a high level craft since it deals with life and death. All higher level arts require ryuuryuushinku (粒々辛苦)  or “toil.” To toil means “to work hard tirelessly” and the martial arts are all about toiling. Understanding this, every day in class, students and teachers should have a goal - something they are working on, something they are toiling on. I often ask my students, “What are you working on?” I am amazed when most don’t have a focus or something that they are trying to figure out. They think that just coming to class will make them better. They aren’t necessarily wrong as even Woody Allen once famously said that “90% of success is just showing up.” However, just relying on showing up is what normal people do. A martial artist is not a normal person and so they have to do more than just show up - they have to toil. To toil is to engage in a continual cycle of awareness, actively applying oneself (toil) and creating incremental change. Actively applying oneself means to be mindfully engaged in something to the nth degree or smallest detail. To do that, we must be mindfully working on something and not just mindlessly showing up. The greatest skill a martial artist can possess is the ability to toil and to do this we need to realize that training is a journey towards perfection but not the attainment of perfection. When we have this journey mentality, everything becomes either a lesson or a test. Lessons help us gain mastery and tests demonstrate to us where we are on our quest towards mastery. The higher we go, the more difficult the road and so the truth about life is that the quality of our lives might improve but at the same time life is only getting harder. It never gets any easier because one or all of the four undefeated opponents are always chasing us: the Grim Reaper, Mother Nature, old injuries, and Father Time. If we stop when we have arrived at a destination, then one of these opponents will catch us. That is why the best martial artists never stop because they know that there’s no there there.

Today’s goal: “If you get tired, learn to rest, not to quit.” - Banksy

Watch these two videos of Demetrius Johnson and his ability to never stop moving

Don’t Lose Hope

“No matter if the enemy has thousands of men, there is fulfillment in simply standing them off and being determined to cut them all down, starting from one end.” - Hagakure

The best martial artists never lose hope. Hope is defined as “an optimistic state of mind that is based on an expectation of positive outcomes.” However, hope is more than just an optimistic state, it is a feeling. Writer and musician Andy Crouch said, “Human beings can live for 40 days without food, four days without water and four minutes without air. But we cannot live for four seconds without hope.” Hope is this feeling or spark that we have inside of us that when we feel it, it drives us. One way to look at hope is that its like this power inside of us which gives us life and thus it is our touki (闘氣) or “fighting spirit.” Conversely, when we lose that feeling, we lose hope. When we reach our level of hopelessness then our minds will fall, our bodies will give up and our opponents will be able to defeat us. Interestingly, one way to say hopeless in Japanese is kainashi (甲斐なし) but when you breakdown the kanji, it means “lack of beautiful armor.” If hope is like armor, then we can cultivate it. Every martial artist’s armor has three layers of defense: body, technique, and mind. The first layer is tairyokuzukuri (体力作り) which means “to develop of physical strength and stamina.” In order for our opponents to break our fitness or our bodies, we either simply need to be out of shape or they need to push us beyond the limits of our preparation. The next level is jutsu (術) or “technical” where we develop technical ability, strength, and stamina. Typically, we think that a strong defense is built around strong technique. It is commonly thought that the better our technique, the better our defenses will be, and this is not presumably wrong, but once our fitness goes, then technical failure is not far off. The final and most important level is  tsuyoikokoro (強い心) which means to have a “strong mind” but translates as “having a strong heart.” To have “heart” in a martial sense means that someone is able to be resilient and keep fighting forward in the face of difficult or overwhelming circumstances. Every day in class, we are supposed to be challenging each other on a physical, technical, and mental level. In swordsmanship, this is referred to as kiarasoi (氣争い) or  to press one’s opponent to failure “in the spirit of mutual combat.”  The theory is that with every spirited attack that we overcome, our bodies become stronger, our technique will improve, and our minds will become more resilient. In other words, our armor improves and with it our hope or belief in ourselves grows. In the spirit of mutual combat doesn’t mean to train with malice or to be a jerk about it. Mutual means together - we make each other better. Furuya Sensei used to say, “Push them to their level and then one step further.” We train hard and our opponents push us so that when adversity does strike, our armor is strong and that’s perhaps why Archilochus said, “We don't rise to the level of our expectations, we fall to the level of our training.” To train is to cultivate hope and, in this sense, belief in the feeling that we are worthy enough to challenge any adversity. No matter who we are, every person has a breaking point. Understanding this, the best martial artists train themselves so that although they may fall or falter, they never lose hope.   

Today’s goal: “Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” - Desmond Tutu

Attack their Ki

This article originally appeared in the Spanish language magazine El Budoka. Read the Spanish version here: El Budoka

The best martial artists attack their opponent’s Ki with their Ki.

In the 1940s, 10th Dan Kendo legend, Moriji Mochida was demonstrating Kendo in front of the Emperor of Japan during the Emperor's Cup Kendo tournament at Noma Dojo. At this demonstration, some say Mochida reached a place of enlightenment with the sword. During the match, Mochida effortlessly struck his opponent and calmly and deftly parried every one of his opponent’s aggressive attacks. It is said that Mochida’s seme (攻め) or “attacks” were almost supernatural because he seemed to lead his opponent’s attacks which caused his opponent to miss.

When we attack our opponents minds or thoughts it is called kizeme (氣攻め) or “to attack their Ki.” In swordsmanship, to understand seme, students must learn it through something called san sappo (三殺法). San sappo are “the three ways of using a sword” or “three ways to kill.” The three sappo are: ken wo korosu (剣を殺す) or “to defeat the sword,” waza wo korosu (技を殺す) or “to defeat the technique,” and ki wo korosu (氣を殺す) or “defeat the spirit.” It is obvious from this list that the first two sappo are easy to obtain because they are tangible or perceivable to the naked eye. The last sappo requires a great deal of skill brought about by a lot of practice. Each sappo seems to build upon the previous one.

To defeat our opponent’s sword, we must become one with the sword. One way to think of this is that we learn how to use the sword, and this is also where we begin to develop our cut with the sword. Here we learn how to properly grip the sword, properly swing the sword, and build up our stamina. The other day in swordsmanship class, Watanabe Sensei said, “Proper grip usually means proper posture and a balanced center which enables us to create a proper attack.”

To defeat our opponent’s technique, we must make the sword part of us. One perspective is that the sword naturally moves with the movements of our bodies. Our bodies, arms, and sword move as one unit which enables us to issue power efficiently and effectively.

The final level of combat is done in the mind. Once we have mastered the physical or how to defeat our opponent’s sword and technique, then we harden our minds. Our opponent uses their development at the first two levels to unnerve us and attack our Ki. When our minds have been overcome, this is referred to as kyo-jitsu (虚 実). Kyo-jitsu refers to one’s state of mind where we strike our opponent when we are in a faster subconscious instinctive mindset because our minds haven’t been compromised. We get led astray and get hit because our minds have been attacked and unnerved and here we are in a slower reactionary state of conscious mindset called kyo.

Ideally, when we have aligned the Ki of our bodies and our minds, then our Ki becomes unified. Then, theoretically, when we have aligned the Ki within ourselves, then we become immediately aligned with the Ki of the universe and we become enlightened just like Moriji Mochida.

Therefore, at the highest levels, the best martial artists rely more on the development of their Ki rather than their physical technique. However, understanding this, Ki is one of those concepts that is regularly misunderstood.

Ki means “life force” or “energy” and its kanji (氣) is made up of the radical for steam or breath (气) and is combined with the character komei (米) or “rice.” This explanation gives us a physical representation of the theory that Ki is “energy.” The stored energy is released in the form of steam as the rice is cooked. When I was in acupuncture school, they defined Ki as “energy about to become matter and matter about to become energy.” Both of these explanations help us to understand the word or concept of Ki but don’t help us to understand how to cultivate it or use it.

There are a lot of techniques and theories available as to how to best cultivate one’s Ki. Koichi Tohei and his devotees have a lot of Ki exercises which are designed to help us activate our Ki. It is my opinion that, at the beginning, most students use physical strength or employ biomechanics instead of actually using their Ki to make the Ki exercises work. I posit that most Ki exercises or techniques can’t actually be learned but, rather, those exercises are demonstrations of one’s Ki ability.

When I was a student, Furuya Sensei rarely ever spoke about Ki. The only times that he spoke about Ki in Aikido were at public demonstrations or at seminars. In his day to day classes, the focus was on technique development and not digesting theoretical ideas. The reason for this is because abstract theories can easily lead students astray and that Aikido is, first and foremost, a martial art. To support Furuya Sensei’s methodology, in Zen and Confucius in the Art of Swordmanship by Reinhard Kammer, the master replies, “Swordsmanship is basically the exercising of the Life Force and, therefore, at the beginning of the study the Life Force is exercised by means of technique.” Therefore, it is my understanding that one’s Ki will naturally be cultivated by just practicing kihon-waza or the basic techniques on a daily basis.

Now, with that being said, there is a time and place for everything. It is thought that a student should start to cultivate their Ki and attack their opponent’s Ki at around sandan or 3rd degree black belt. The rationale is that 3rd Dan is where we should have cultivated a certain amount of technical ability and thus the natural progression of training turns inward.

The only problem is that 3rd Dan takes about 15-20 years. In my experience, a couple of ways to speed up one’s cultivation of Ki is with meditation and breathing exercises.

Meditation enables the practitioner to still their minds. When our Ki is calm or heiki (平氣), then our minds are calm and composed. The highest teaching in Budo is equanimity. Equanimity is a type of enlightenment for martial artists because they have the ability to jitsu or act mindfully and not kyo or react mindlessly. Most don’t need more than 30 minutes a day of mediation to help cultivate their Ki.

Breathing exercises teach the practitioner to properly take in more oxygen which steadies the mind and enables the body to focus more appropriately. In Japanese, this is called kigaraku (氣が楽) or “to be at ease." The easiest breathing method is Box Breathing. First, breathe out slowly, releasing all the air from your lungs. Breathe in through your nose as you slowly count to four in your head. Hold your breath for a count of four. Exhale for another count of four. Hold your breath again for a count of four. Repeat for three to four rounds and once or twice a day to help cultivate your Ki.

Utilizing our Ki to defeat our opponent’s is the highest level in any martial arts training. Students and teachers should take care to not start this training too early as physical acquisition should be at the forefront of one’s training. Like Moriji Mochida, when we can attack our opponents Ki with our Ki, we can lead their Ki and almost dictate their movement. When we are attacking someone’s mind or Ki, it opens them up to being defeated and that’s why the best martial artists attack their opponent’s Ki with their Ki.

Movement Creates Change

Samuel Johnson, “Idleness never can secure tranquillity.”

One hidden secret of martial arts training is that movement creates change. One way that movement creates change is based upon something called borrowed discipline. If we don’t naturally have the skills, fortitude, or discipline to create change, then we can borrow what we need from our martial arts training. Every day in class, we learn all these different things while we are just practicing the techniques. On the surface, we are learning how to negotiate ourselves physically. A person strikes at us and we answer with a block, punch, or redirection. On a more deeper level, we are also learning things like perseverance, dedication, courage, and the value of hard work just to name a few. We then use them or, in a sense, borrow them from our training and use them to create better lives for ourselves. For instance, let’s say we want to build up the courage to ask someone out on a date or ask our boss for a raise. To build up the courage, every class we single out the biggest or most difficult people that we are afraid to train with. Every time we do this, it builds fortitude and courage. We then borrow the courage to conquer that fear that we learned by taking on people bigger and stronger and then use it to ask for what we want. The rationale is that scared is the same scared and courage is the same courage. The same thinking can be applied to all the things in our lives that we want to change but don’t have the skills to do so. In this way, the martial art training and its movements transform us. Neuroscientist Andrew Huberman said, “Use the body to shift the mind.” Huberman likens movement to a mechanical system which spreads the chemicals that are released in our brains when we move, and those chemicals or hormones enable us to change our minds and our moods. In Aikido, we are trying to achieve something similar in our movement which is called ki no nagare (氣の流れ) or “the flow of ki.” When our ki is flowing, we are healthy or genki (元氣). When our ki is not flowing, we are “unhealthy” or byouki (病氣). The flow of ki is an actual thing but it is also a metaphor. By moving our bodies, we have the potential to move our ki which in turn shifts our minds and enables us to create change. If you want to change something, change it first in the dojo. Then borrow that discipline and make changes in your regular life. Understanding this, the best martial artists know that movement creates change.

Today’s goal: If you want to change something about yourself, move your body to move your mind.

Watch Andrew Huberman discuss movement

Be a Role Model

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

On April 24th, the legendary martial artist, Fumio Demura Sensei passed away (9/15/38 - 4/24/23).

The best martial artist is someone to look up to. To be a paragon or someone to look up to in Japanese is bushinokagami (武士の鑑). Bushinokagami translates as “warrior mirror.” Understanding this, the best martial artists act as a mirror and reflect back on others a better version of themselves. Demura Sensei and Furuya Sensei were very good friends for many decades. Most people think that practitioners of different styles of martial arts would be rivals, but at the highest level, there is nothing but respect. However, here’s a story about the time that Demura Sensei defeated Furuya Sensei. For about two decades, Furuya Sensei used to organize martial arts demonstrations in the Japanese American community and invited Demura Sensei’s group to demonstrate Karate. One year, Furuya Sensei organized a huge formal demonstration at the now Aratani Theatre in Little Tokyo and invited Demura Sensei to demonstrate. At one point during the performance, our two groups met backstage. To the uninitiated, it might have looked like the beginning of some sort of gang fight as our two groups met face-to-face as we passed each other just before Demura Sensei was about to go on. Furuya Sensei walked up to Demura Sensei and formally greeted him. We all stood behind Furuya Sensei and Demura Sensei’s students all stood behind him. As they talked, Demura Sensei ever so slightly turned his head and in the most quiet and subtle way said something that I think was, “chairs.” Immediately, all Demura Sensei’s students quietly ran off in different directions. In response, Furuya Sensei turned to us with a gritted teeth smile and angrily said, “get some chairs” and we all loudly and chaotically ran off in search of chairs. In what seemed like forever, everyone was searching for chairs in the crowded backstage area filled with theatre equipment. Comically, all the students came running back all at once holding chairs or something to sit on. No sooner than we all arrived, they both bowed to each other and just walked away. Dumbfounded, all the Karate and Aikido students just stood there holding their chairs with sheepish grins. I was the last one to return with my chair and I ran up to Furuya Sensei gasping for air and said, “I got a chair.” Sensei walked past me and angrily said, “Put it back!” Later that day, Sensei chided us on our poor performance and said, “Man, you guys have to be more on the ball like Demura Sensei’s students.” By the way Sensei said that and the look on his face, it was clear that he admired Demura Sensei, but it was also clear that he was bested. Over the next two decades we demonstrated with Demura Sensei many times and Sensei always used Demura Sensei’s demonstration as the example of how to demonstrate well. The misconception is that the martial arts are about winning and losing or developing the physical skill to dominate others. This might be true at the superficial or beginner’s level. However, at its highest level, the true measure of one’s prowess is that in their presence, they make you want to be a better person. Most people don’t know that the Mr. Miyagi character in the Karate Kid film franchise is based upon Demura Sensei. The Mr. Miyagi character or Demura Sensei has gone on to influence several generations of martial artists and martial arts teachers. To reach this level, dictates the true greatness of Demura Sensei. Demura Sensei will forever be the example of what it means to be a great martial artist and a great teacher. He was truly a warrior among men.

Today’s goal: Be someone that is worthy of being a role model.

Watch the trailer from The Real Miyagi the documentary about Fumio Demura’s life