THOUGHTS ON BUDO AT THE TURN OF A DECADE

The world has changed considerably since I first began to study Budō, several decades ago. It is now a much smaller world, due primarily to the innovations made in communications and computer technology. I can recall that in 1995, computers and the Internet were at best, an insignificant part of most people’s lives, and cell phones (mobile phones then) were large, cumbersome things: hardly anyone had one. In the ensuing fifteen years however, most of the industrialized world has been connected to the Internet and the phenomenon of mobile communications. Literally, billions of pages of information are at anyone’s fingertips with just a click of a computer mouse. Sadly, at the same time, the world has grown more violent and dangerous. In the United States, we witnessed firsthand the attack on the World Trade Center, the war in Iraq, the war in Afghanistan, countless terrorist attacks, and assassinations, not to mention innumerable homicides and heinous crimes here at home. Domestic and foreign terrorism, in all its forms, have become almost daily occurrences, and news of them is now almost instantaneous. We now see crime and violence even as it occurs, often graphically, from the comfort of our easy chairs. When examined, even superficially, the sum of all this tends to reinvorce my feeling that the need has never, in modern times, been greater for people to train in traditional martial arts, such as Kenjutsu and Iaijutsu.

I have no personal knowledge of any official study, however my own understanding is that few, if any people, classically trained in martial arts, have committed the types of violence and terrorism that fill our computer and television screens, as well as the front pages of our newspapers. Acts of terrorism and violence run counter to the very nature and intent of traditional martial arts programs. Classic Japanese martial arts, Budō if you will, is in fact the art of peacemaking. I continue to teach Kenjutsu and Iaijutsu, not simply because it trains one to perform acts of violence, but rather because it trains both mind and spirit to seek out peace and harmony while preparing one to defend against acts of violence; the end result of which is creating, in some small way, a more peaceful world for its practitioners.

While Kenjutsu and Iaijutsu, on the surface, would appear to have little application to contemporary ideas of self-defense, I cannot help but feel that it truly does have practical applications. A broomstick, a mop handle, a cane, with training, can be a real boon for a person threatened with attack. Beyond that, these arts are simple serene, and elegant, bereft of the splendid embellishments and gymnastics assigned them by the cinema and print media, such as manga. In a real sense, however, this simplicity, serenity, and elegance, and the absence of superficial flourishes, have at least in the United States, been self-defeating. It is difficult for the uneducated and the unsophisticated to see how Kenjutsu and Iaijutsu could be of any use in self-defense; thus, such arts have little attraction to those who are instead drawn to more brutal forms of “combat,” such as grappling, Brazilian Jiujitsu, and “mixed martial arts,” which many traditional instructors, including myself, regard as nothing more than fighting. Fighting is what is cool. Fighting is “in.” Fighting is power. Skill in fighting makes one a “tough guy,” which assists in maintaining the “thug is good” thinking, propagated by television and movies, manga, music videos, and worst of all, violent video games. Indeed, contemporary, violent video games occupy the minds and time of American youth far more than such mundane pastimes as study, reading, or active participation in sports. Absent are the enduring values and ethics of traditional Budō, now set aside for the less endearing and enduring values of contemporary “martial arts” training.

Sadly, I do not foresee much change in the way that the “samurai arts” will be presented in literature or the entertainment media. Looking back, I think that the contemporary view of Budō began with the larger-than-life, naïve, unworkable, and improbable portrayals of traditional martial arts by works of fantasy and fiction such as the Teenaged Mutant Nina Turtles. Since their inception, the media has inundated us with anime, manga, video games, television programs and feature films highlighting samurai-like characters that perform gross representations of sword and other martial techniques; which in turn, have created false impressions and therefore expectations, that make legitimate martial arts at least disappointing if not totally unattractive. I say disappointing in view of the large number of would-be students who are disenchanted early on in their training, or even before they begin training, when they come to a dojo in the hopes of learning the “moves” that they saw in some movie or video game, and the dojo is either unable, and often unwilling, to do so.

My own experience recently is that interest in traditional Japanese martial arts, in the United States, does not support nor will it sustain classes in such subjects as Kenjutsu or Iaijutsu; individual, private students yes, but classes, no. In a country that would seem to pride itself and take comfort in its ignorance, obesity, and laziness, and its attraction to that which is crass, serious students are far between. Certainly, I have received inquiries from parents who want to enroll their children in classes; yet, what is the point when the child does not want to attend and has little or no interest beyond the “flash,” nor the common sense or sense of responsibility that goes with learning potentially dangerous techniques? There is none. Even parents are disappointed when they discover that it takes years upon years to achieve the proficiency to earn a black belt, the “holy grail” of American martial arts: not six months, not a year, but years. It is no better with potential students in their late teens or in their twenties; indeed, such students are almost totally absent. The discipline of mind and body that is required is simply not there. What few potentially good students there are tend to be over fifty, college educated, accomplished, and disciplined. Interestingly, these are mature people who potentially suffer more aches and pains then younger students; and yet, are more than willing to endure such discomforts, for the sake of the art.

What the coming decade will hold is of course a mystery. Perhaps, with the diminished American economy and the austerity that it demands, some small side effect will be a turn away from crassness, lack of discipline, and lack of responsibility, toward a new embracing of good, traditional values. Only time will tell.

THOUGHTS ON TECHNIQUE IN BUDO I

"One should train themself meticulously and then forget about it."

Ultimately, the reason one practices Budō or a martial art is so that one can make the art an integral part of one’s self. In order to achieve any degree of mastery, that is, competence as well as confidence, it is necessary for one to attain a state in which he or she is able to use the best possible techniques instinctively: without thinking. The only way that one can accomplish this is by learning to deal with every conceivable circumstance.

Alone, our imaginations are not always able to conceive of every possible situation; consequently, in the classes I have taught, as an unwritten adjunct to the curriculum, students are encouraged, actually they are expected, to bring possible variations to a situation up to the class, so that the other students may consider and discuss the circumstance and actively experiment with the various ways to deal with it: good and bad. They work out solutions and in a sense the student becomes a teacher. By doing this, it is possible, through slight variation or innovation, to transform one technique into ten.

One must, however, be wary of allowing their “soul to attach itself to a technique.” That is to say, one must not become obsessed, when for example engaged in combat or practice with a sword or shinai, to become solely focused on technique. If one is simply centered on technique, and not freeing up his mind, if one’s actions and reactions are not instinctive, then the opponent will ultimately have the opportunity to not only strike back but to win.

When in combat or practice, one should not think about “killing” their opponent or what technique will do the job, but rather merging and flowing with an opponent and allowing the techniques to select themselves.

Remember that no matter how wonderful one’s technique may be, if one is focused solely on that aspect of their art, then one, simply put, cannot win. Once techniques are learned, practice without thinking of simply striking, parrying, or thrusting. Let the mind go free so that the movements and techniques come freely from within one’s self.

It is a simple fact that once one has trained themself well, their body, arms, and legs will move automatically; that is, without any conscious effort. So, one’s mind will not be overcome by their physical movements and be able to make use of the techniques they have learned and practiced without having to think. Once this state of mind has been reached, no misgivings or wavering will occur. There is no enemy or opponent, not even a tengu or a demon, who will be able to find an opportunity to effectively attack.

One should train themself meticulously and then forget about it. One should toss aside their mind and thus follow the Way without actually being conscious of it. This is a obscurity of all ways and arts, be it Aikidō, Iaidō, Judō, Karate-Dō, Kendō, Aikijutsu, Iaijutsu, or Kenjutsu.

Copyright 2010 by Hayato Tokugawa, Sekishinkan Tokugawa Dojo, and Shisei-Do Publications. All rights reserved.

Strategy in Amatai no Shugo-ryū (Part I)

Saya no uchi. Saya no uchi no kachi. Victory with the sword still in the scabbard. The words almost shout at the swordsman, exhorts him, to remember that physical combat is always the last resort. No matter how confident one may think they are, how many techniques they may know, a master of strategy will always find a way to win without fighting. This is a message that is not unique to our dojo; rather, it has been passed down through the ages.

Sun Tsu once said:

To fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence;

Supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting.

Did not Miyamoto Musashi make this a central point of his Go Rin No Sho, The book of the Five Rings? Did not Yagyū Munenori, founder of the Edo Branch of Yagyū Shinkage-ryū from which Amatai no Shugo-ryu draws so much, preach this very thing time and again?

The path to mastery of Amatai no Shugo-ryū, Yagyū Shinkage-ryū, or any form of Kenjutsu is long indeed. Before anyone can achieve success by virtue of intellect or willpower, they must have a deep understanding of the principles of swordsmanship and of a nature which will allow them to act in keeping with those principles. One can only acquire this through constant, long-term practice and the study of strategy; which includes the old texts by those Musashi and Yagyū Munenori, among others.

Simply put, strategy is a plan of action with the intention of accomplishing a specific objective. A true swordsman practices his art with two very definite objectives in mind:

n To cut the opponent while avoiding being cut.

n To progress in the direction of perfection of character.

To cut the opponent while avoiding being cut is in one sense largely external, because it depends, in part, on technique and strategies which are taught and learned. The second goal, to progress in the direction of perfection of character, is more internal, as it comes from within each of us; yet, it is equally as valid. Both of these objectives are keys to the proper practice of the art of swordsmanship and every subsequent goal is derived from them.

THOUGHTS FROM A TAKAYAMA ROOFTOP: The End Purpose of Budo

The end purpose in practicing kenjutsu or any Budo is to make the art thoroughly a part of one's self. One must try to achieve a state wherein one can resond with the best of tacticsas a matter of reflex; that is to say, unconsciously.

This can be accomplished by learning to deal with every possible circuncstance. When one is using a sword aganst an opponent or enemy, one shouldl not allow their soul, their inner spirit, to link itself to the technique. The enemy will perhaps have the opportunity to see within you and strike at you in a way that could cuase you to be defeated. Do not think about being killed (defeated) or whether or no you have killed (defeated) your opponent.

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Copyright 2008 by Hayato Tokugawa & Sekshinkan Tokugawa Dojo/Takayama Budokai

THE CORE OF BUSHIDO

If we wish to find the core of Bushido, we must I think look at it in its historical context. To do that, I would like to use a metaphor, first put forward by Nitobe Inazo in his book on Bushido, worn as it may be; I think it is still effect. Certainly, we do not need all the flowery rhetoric or the cryptic European references of Nitobe so grasp what is truly simple.

If we think of Bushido as the Sakura, the cherry blossom, and think of how plants live, our search may become clearer. Japan of course is the soil and without the proper soil, no plant can flourish. Some will whither and die quickly, others will struggle over a long time, trying to survive, but never growing perhaps beyond some stunted weed. Japan, more than anywhere in the world, was the right “soil” for Bushido.’ The seeds came to Japan long ago from China, who in many ways is the “Mother of Japan”. The seeds came in the form on Confucius and then his disciple Mencius. If one wishes to understand Bushido, then look to the seeds themselves: Analects by Confucius and simply The Mencius. With these two great “fathers” came Wan Yang Ming and Lao Tsu. The great seeds of Asian thought came riding across the sea to eventually take root in Japan.

The Sakura, like any plant, not only needs soil, it needs nourishment and Shinto was just such nutrition for Bushido. Native to Japan, growing out of the sea with the land, it was there waiting to embrace Bushido and to give it all that it could. Perhaps the two greatest “gifts” of Shinto were its sense of patriotism, loyalty, reverence for ancestors, and love of family and parents, which lay at the very heart of Bushido at its birth as it does today. Look in any dojo and you will see the character of Shinto present from the walls to the etiquette of those who practice there.

Seeds, soil, nourishment, are fine but our analogy still lacks something. The Sakura needs sun and rain which was supplied in abundance by first Buddhism and later its refinement of Zen, which went directly to the growth and development of the Samurai character – the Samurai spirit, and provided for the growth and development of Bushido on the most personal of levels.

Bushido was exclusive only to Japan. Despite Nitobe’s analogies to European Chivalry, they are as different as night and day. Bushido could only have been in Japan. It was destined to be so.

Copyright 2008 by Hayato Tokugawa and Sekishinkan Tokugawa Dojo

INTRODUCTION TO AMATAI NO SHUGO-RYU

Introduction to Amatai No Shugo-ryu



Amatai no Shugo-ryu (Multitude of Dragons School) is a unique martial art which combines techniques of a number of Budo/martial art forms (amatai no Shugo or a multitude of dragons); yet, a the same time, through the study and application of the principles of Bushido, one forms a strong spiritual sense of love, peace, and harmony. It is art, beautiful and flowing it is Budo, powerful and effective.

Some people may be drawn to Amatai no Shugo-ryu because of one of those two aspects or for one or more of the “dragons”; yet, after a period of serious practice one is likely to discover that all of the elements and all of the “dragons” are interconnected. The spiritual sense is discovered through practice of technique and technique is improved through the development of the spiritual sense.

Amatai no Shugo-ryu is a contemporary Japanese martial art combining:

· Traditional Budo technique
· Traditional Budo values
· Traditional Bushido thought with modern applications
· Traditional Japanese and Asian philosophy and thought with modern applications
· Traditional Japanese culture

It is a non-competitive art which offers a model for self-defense, conflict management and resolution, as well as for both personal and social responsibility.
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© 2000 by Hayato Tokugawa, Aoi Tokugawa, and Sekishinkan tokugawa dojo. all rights reserved.

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TRAINING IN THE WAY OF THE SWORD

“Training in the way of the sword can be so repetitious, I know. Many students daydream their way through practice. But, “Small tiger”, do not let yourself fall into this snare. Daydreams sap the body of chi and in the end, training becomes even harder. One must force themselves to concentrate on the techniques and constantly try to find new elements to work on.

“When you are feeling tired during practice, you must push yourself past that weariness and train even harder. The more you commit to hard practice, the more chi you will have available for it.”

(Wudang Master Don to student Li Peoh)

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(c) 2007 by Hayato Tokugawa

www.takayamabudokai.com

DEVELOPING A TRAINING PHILOSOPHY IN BUDO AND MARTIAL ARTS: DEVELOPING A TRAINING MINDSET

In Budo and the martial arts one should remember the adage “Wherever your head goes your body will follow.” To prepare your body to train in Budo, you must first have the right frame of mind (mindset). The idea is not to simply train more, but rather, to train more effectively and wisely.

A good “first” mindset is to accept from the start that you are learning Budo or a martial art and that, as should really be expected, it will take time. You should also keep in mind that you will make mistakes, at times with some regularity; however, also keep in mind that mistakes give you the opportunity to train more and thus to learn more.

In Budo, one should train as though you intend to use this art someday in the protection of someone’s life: a loved one, even your own. But one should not train as though the treat were today, and that as soon as you walk out the dojo door, your worst enemy will be waiting to kill you. Instead, train as if it might be threatened – someday. Take your training seriously with a realistic intent and intensity.

Train also as though your spiritual life also depends on it; that is, in approaching Budo, always maintain your high level of ethics and behavior. Remember also that within Budo and Bushido, one’s on spiritual development (in addition to physical development and development of skills) really depends on concentrating on one’s work and progress. No one can do it for anyone else. We can help our partners and fellow students but we cannot, as much as we might like to, do it for them and in return, they cannot do it for us.

Hopefully one enjoys the art they are pursuing and truly, one should train as though they enjoy it. One learns faster, better, and maintains training longer if the process is enjoyable for them. Try to take pleasure and enjoyment from what you do and if you are not, explore with your sensei and within yourself why that might be.

Approach training in Budo or martial arts with intense intent. Two extremely important items in training are intent and intensity (note intensity follows intent). For example, if your intention is to come to the dojo and “hang out” with your friends, the intensity of your training will be pretty small. If you train with the intent of only achieving physical fitness, you will train with a higher intensity than that if you were just “hanging out” but it would not be enough so that you were able to defend yourself someday if needed. If you train with the intent that someday you will be able to defend yourself if you need to, you will train with a still higher level of intensity. One should decide what there intent is and train with the appropriate intensity in order to achieve it.

Remember that one needs to train consistently and to be persistent. Progress will not just come. Acquiring skills require consistent attendance and persistent training and practice.

When you starting out in Budo or a martial art, train with some goal in mind. This will help you focus your training. To train without a goal in mind is the same as taking a trip without having any destination. Not such a great idea. At the start one truly needs to know where they want to go. Later on, one can train just to train; that is, train with no specific goal or intent in mind. This is a bit more “process oriented” approach rather than focusing on content or intent. Training (later on down the road) with no specific goal means that you have a direction in mind to get to, but no real “destination” such as reaching a specific goal or achieving a specific rank. Eventually the training comes on its own – training becomes the intent, the content, the goal, and the process all in one. The destination and the journey become the same. At the same time, the training itself changes from something that one does, to who they are.

So one can also then, approach training to make a statement. At the start, train as if your behavior while training is making a statement about who you are. What do you want people viewing your training to think about who you are. Train in such a way that your behavior communicates that personal statement.

Approach training not just for self-improvement (although that is certainly one of the better reasons for studying) but also for the improvement of others. The principles of Budo and Bushido stress the common good and the best interests of everyone. To train just for you in the long-term is not enough, it is a bit selfish and thus does not demonstrate or apply Budo or Bushido thought. One must train the “self” but one must also lose the “self” in order to help improve others. For example: When practicing as the one executing a technique, stay relaxed, calm you mind, follow instructions – this will lead to self-improvement. When you are practicing as the one initiating an “attack” and thus receiving the technique, give honest intent and intensity to the approach and the attack. This allows your partner or the one giving the technique the opportunity to practice and to improve. Do not, however, give too little intensity or intent, which tends to make practice rather useless. Also, do not give too much intent and intensity or then, in fact, you are no longer training but fighting and things degenerate into a contest of muscle and ego, not a training session for self- and other’s improvement.

Train slowly and pay attention to details. Truly, the best way to progress rapidly is to progress slowly. The best way to make big changes is to pay attention to the little things.

Lastly, train and technique and concepts; that is, train in both the physical techniques that apply to the concepts and train in the concepts that make those techniques effective and efficient.

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(c) 2007 by Hayato Tokugawa and Sekishinkan Tokugawa Dojo, www.takayamabudokai.com