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.

JAPANESE AESTHETICS: Plants in the Visual Arts (Geijutsu to Shokubutsu)

The graphic or illustrative arts in Japan traditionally have relied on the sensitivity of the artist to nature and thus, have been likely to be simple, compact, and modest, yet elegant. Traditional renderings of landscapes, for example, do not display the wide range of colors that is seen in Western oil paintings or watercolors. This same simplicity and grace applies to sculpture as well: delicately carved and small in size.

Plants, flowers and birds, or at least their outlines are frequently rendered in lifelike colors on fabric, lacquer ware and ceramics. The love of natural forms and an enthusiasm for the expression of nature in idealized style have been the key intentions in the development of traditional Japanese arts such as ikebana (flower arrangement, chanoyou (the tea ceremony), tray landscapes (bonkei), bonsai, and landscape gardening. It is through these arts that the Japanese people have attempted to incorporate the beauty of nature into their spiritual values and daily lives.

For the decoration of a teahouse, a modest flower was selected to conform with the principle that flowers should always look as if they were still in nature. The Japanese have sought to express the immensity as well as the simplicity of nature with a single wild flower in a solitary vase.

Copyright 2010 by Tokugawa Hayato & Shisei-Do Publications. All rights reserved.

Strategy in Amatai no Shugo-ryū (Part 2)

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.

To cut an opponent while at the same time not being cut is, as noted above, a largely external goal. It relates to one’s physical actions as well as to those of their opponent. If one thinks about it, however, “to cut an opponent while not being cut” is also a theoretical goal, in that in modern Japanese society, we do not typically use the katana as a weapon. The modern trend is to place far less emphasis on the killing ability of the katana and instead focus on its character as a tool by which one adds or modifies character and self-discipline. It is however, necessary to keep in mind the true, fighting purpose of the katana. One must maintain a concept of the practical reasons for the art of swordsmanship; thus anchoring one to a sense of martial practicality. Each decision one makes; how to hold a sword, how to stand, how to move, how to think; must be based on the actual principles of fighting with the katana; otherwise one’s actions are no longer fixed in the art and its traditions.

Within our dojo, “to cut an opponent while not being cut” is taken quite seriously, both in discussion of tactics and techniques, as well as in practice. Wearing full bogu[i], it becomes a practical matter of not being “whacked” by bokken or shinai – both potentially a painful experience. The intent of such a practice, among others, is not a competition, but rather to take matters one step further in providing a real, tangible means of fixing in one’s mind in the true, practical aspects, traditions, and history of swordsmanship.

The perfection of character, an internal end, relates directly to the state of one’s mind and spirit. It is equally a real goal although difficult to achieve. It is possible through practice to improve one’s awareness, thought patterns, self-discipline, even one’s integrity and ability to live harmoniously within the community, in keeping with the principles of Wa-Dō. Granted, there is no actual need to develop the skills of sword fighting; yet, there does exist a true need for one to refine themselves and to work toward the betterment of themselves and their community.

The more one follows their quest to accomplish the first goal, the more one makes press along the path to the second. Time spent well in practicing kata, in drills, and in other training with the sword, the more the internal goals are achieved. Therefore, when one speaks of strategy, one addresses both the most successful ways to use a sword and the most effective ways to utilizing swordsmanship to fashion one’s spirit.

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[i] Bogu (防具 ) is the specially developed protective armor used in Japanese martial arts, particulary in Kendō. A complete set consist of: men (面 ), the facefask and shoulder protector or helmet; the dō (胴 ) or torso protector; the kote (小手 ) or hand and forearm protectors (long, extended gloves); tare (垂) the leg and groin protector.

The men which protects the face, neck and shoulders, consists of a facemask with several horizontal metal bars, running across the entire width of the face, from the chin to the upper forehead. To this is attached a long, rectangular, thick cloth padding, which curves over the top of the head and extends to cover the shoulders. A plate to protect the throat is also attached to the bottom of the facemask. The men is held in place with a pair of cords, which wrap around the head and are tied at the back. Note that the men is left open for ventilation and thus the back of the head is left unprotected. This is primarily due to the fact that there is no prescribed nor permitted stroke to the back of the head.

The main component of the dō is the curved stomach and chest protector. In its modern form, the dō has a distinct bulge, which helps convey the force of a strike away from the soft, middle areas of the torso. Lacquered bamboo has traditionally used however, molded plastic or fiberglass is now frequently used instead. The dō is held in place from the shoulders by two diagonal ties from the shoulders and a small set of ties at the back.

The kote are gloves that resemble long-sleeved mittens, designed specifically for Kendō. While they look cumbersome, they indeed provide a high degree of mobility for hands and writs in gripping in gripping and wielding the shina (the traditional split bamboo “sword” of Kendō.

The tare is a thick, padded, cloth belt that wraps around the waist and ties under the front flap. The padded flaps that hang from the belt protect both the upper legs as well as the groin area.

Copyright 2009 by Sekishinkan Tokguawa Dojo/Takayama Budokai, Shisei-Do Dojo, Shisei-Do Publications, and Hayato Tokugawa. All rights reserved.

Ten Kinds of Simplicity

Ten Kinds of Simplicity

Although the attraction toward more simple ways of living a strong for some, the attraction for the opposite can be equally as strong for others. It would seem that many people are not giving even cursory consideration to more simplicity in their lives because they see it as too great a sacrifice. Instead, they seek deeper resources of satisfaction that they perceive can be found in a consumerist life-style, one which in the long-term brings higher stress and fewer true rewards. In Japan until the recent recession, the percentage of the population reporting that they were very happy remained relatively unchanged: roughly 33%. At the same time however, divorce rates doubled and suicides have tripled. An entire generation tasted the fruits of an affluent society and is now discovering that money does not buy happiness. The present recession presents a special opportunity to take a new course in one’s life: to pull back from the rat race and move into a life that is, although materially more modest, rich with family, friends, community, creativity, and service.

To present a more realistic representation of the extent and expression of a simpler life-style for today’s complex society, here are ten different approaches to consider. Although they may overlap a bit, each expression of simplicity seems distinct enough to merit a separate category.

Simplicity by Choice

Simplicity means choosing a path through life consciously, deliberately and as a matter of one’s own choice. As a path or “way” that places emphasis on freedom, the choice of simplicity also means staying focused and not being distracted by the consumer culture. It means consciously organizing one’s life so that they can give their true personal gifts to the world: the essence of ourselves.

Commercial Simplicity

A more simplistic life would mean that there is then a more rapidly growing personal market for healthy and sustainable products and services of all kinds; from home design, building materials and energy systems to food. There exists the potential for an enormous expansion of conscious economic activity toward sustainability.

Compassionate Simplicity

With simplicity in one’s life can come a kinship, a bond with the community and a desire for reconciliation, even with other species as well as a strong desire to be of true service to others and a stronger desire for cooperation and fairness, which seeks a future which is beneficial to all and decreases the gap rich and poor.

Ecological Simplicity

Simplicity mans to choose ways of living that tread far more lightly on the earth, reducing one’s “ecological footprint.” An ecological simplicity brings with it a deep interconnection with all life and a consciousness of threats to its well-being (such as climate change, species extinction and resource depletion) coupled with a desire to do something about it. Ecological simplicity cultivates a type of “natural capitalism:” economic practices that value the importance of natural ecosystems and which can impact the community in terms of its health and productivity.

Elegant Simplicity

Simplicity can mean that the way one lives their life represents a work of unfolding artistry. It is an understated aesthetic that contrasts with the excess of consumerist lifestyles. Drawing on the influence of Zen, Confucianism, and Taoism, it celebrates natural materials and clean, functional expressions of simplicity found in the hand-made arts and crafts from the community.

Frugal Simplicity

By cutting back on spending that is not truly serving one’s life, and by practicing skillful management of one’s personal finances, one can achieve greater financial independence. Frugality and careful financial management bring increased financial freedom and the opportunity to more consciously choose one’s path through life. Living with less also decreases the impact of our consumption on the earth and frees resources for others.

Natural Simplicity

Simplicity in one’s life can signify a remembrance and reconnection to one’s deep roots in the natural world. It means to experience one’s connection with the ecology of life in which one lives and to balance their experience of the man-made environments with time in nature. It means to celebrate the experience of living through the seasons.

Political Simplicity

Simplicity means to organize one’s life in ways that enable people to life more lightly and sustainability, which in turn, involves changes to the life of the community: from transportation and education to the design of our homes, town, and workplaces. Such can also be a media politic because mass media can be the primary way to reinforce or transform the community’s awareness of consumerism. Political simplicity is a politic of conversations within the community that builds local, face-to-face connections: networks of relationships, which enable others to make conscious decisions about change in their lives as well.

Spiritual Simplicity

One may approach life as a meditation and cultivate their experience of intimate connections with all that exits around us: plants, animals, friends, and neighbors. Spiritual simplicity is more concerned with consciously enjoying life in its unadorned richness rather than with any particular standard or manner of material living. By cultivating a spiritual connection with life, one tends to look beyond surface appearances and to bring their inner self into relationships of all kinds.

Uncluttered Simplicity

To live an uncluttered life means to take charge of a life that is too busy, too stressed and too fragmented. It means cutting back on inconsequential distractions and focusing on the essentials, whatever those may be for each unique life.

Got Ki?

Ki, or Qi, (気), also commonly spelled ch'i, is a fundamental concept of traditional Chinese and Japanese culture particularly in Shaolin martial arts or Budo. Ki is believed to be part of every living thing that exists, as a kind of “life force” or “spiritual energy”. It is frequently translated as “energy flow,” or literally as “air” or “breath.”
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