I WISH TO THANK my adult students for the wonderful make-over job they did on the dojo, particularly Gregg Scott, Michael Boasso, Michael Kolwicz, Sal Amoreno and Jerry Yoskowitz. Everybody donated money, time, expertise, talent, and did I mention money? The result is a professional painting job–and more--that I am sure everybody can admire. The dojo looks spanking new and ready for Kurashita sensei’s gasshuku in April! I am deeply grateful for your generosity, kindness, and devotion.

–Sensei.

WHAT HAPPENED IN MARCH: OUR ANNUAL ST JUDE CHILDREN’S HOSPITAL FUND RAISER. This week of March 5-9, we organized our annual fund-raiser for St Jude Children’s Hospital, my favorite charity. As usual, the children had their pledge forms for their family and relatives but this year I also made Wednesday night, March 7, an open self-defense night for my teacher friends at Carteret school to participate in and thus bring in more donations. I am happy to say that, thanks to everybody’s enthusiasm and generosity, we have raised over $2,500! Thank you on behalf of the children of St Jude’s Hospital!

OSHIRO SENSEI’S SEMINAR: MAR 25 Friday

Oshiro Sensei emerged from Newark Airport’s Terminal C tired but in good spirits and looking like his old self. This time he didn’t have to carry his bo and tunfa because he had left them at my dojo for safekeeping last trip over. We bantered about the Czech Republic and Germany as we inched our way through rush hour Newark traffic.

When we arrived at the dojo, we were greeted by Gregg Scott, Jerry Yoskowitz, Mike Kolwicz, Alice Freund, and Miro Musulin who were coaching the few youth students on their katas. After changing into his gi, Sensei watched the group intently, studying their kata and technique and formulating a plan on how and what to teach this bunch. Having made up his mind, he signaled me to bow everyone in and proceeded to teach a series of stretching exercises. He had us pull out all the mats and timed us with his stopwatch as we held each position for 30 seconds at a time; as we stretched, Sensei talked about a document he found that substantiated the awesome reputation of the samurai of old: as far as three centuries back, they had kept records of themselves running the equivalent of a marathon, not once but twice a day!

Sensei also taught us an exercise for isolating the upper body into eight sections (or four, front and back) to help us move more smoothly and prevent telegraphing (or, as Sensei put it, “to kill kehai”). Afterwards, he went into kicking and delved into both heel and toe kicks. The children were very cooperative and docile because I had warned them to be on their best behavior!

SATURDAY, MARCH 24: Today was a big day for me as I prepared to take my Yondan (4^th degree) test in Yamanni-ryu. I was supposed to test last year but the occasion never presented itself. I picked Sensei up at his hotel at 8:00 a.m. for breakfast and by nine we came to the dojo. Sensei shuddered at the snow left over from the previous week’s storm. I warmed up quickly and presented myself for my examination. Sensei wanted to see a tunfa kata (I did Shikina kata), 2 sai katas (I did Kishaba sho and dai) and 2 bo katas (I did Sakugawa and Shirataru). No matter how much I have been practicing, preparing myself for this day, I still got nervous in front of Sensei. He is a most intimidating man, scrutinizing my every movement and taking copious notes as I performed. When I was done, he came over and commented on the elements he wanted me to work on to take me to the next level: use more internal control. I beamed with pride: I was now Yondan in Yamanni-ryu, a dream I had been pursuing for a long time.

By 10:00, my kobudo students Matthew and Miro came for our private session with Sensei but Samantha didn’t make it. I had told Sensei about her nunchaku kata and had wanted her to demonstrate for him but it will have to wait till next year. Sensei started us on saijutsu and went over some intricate thumb work as well as some advanced manipulation of the sai. He took us through the kihon kata but used it to showcase some internal work he wanted to teach. Then we went on to bojutsu: Sensei demonstrated an advanced kesa uchi I had not seen before, emphasizing the thrusting motion. He took us through Suuji-no-kon and worked on all aspects of it thoroughly. We ended at 11:30.

The next class was the RBKD Instructors’ session, to start at 1:00 p.m. Who would walk in but Andre Tippitt, of the New England Patriots fame! Mr. Tippitt has been involved in Yamanni-ryu for quite some time, but due to Patriots business, has not been active lately. I last saw him fifteen years ago. By 1:00, Kowa’s brother Duke and his students showed up from Brooklyn, followed by Sam Brockington from Yonkers, and Caron Keppler from Queens. Finally, Kowa came limping in. He was due to test at 12:00 but now his examination would have to be postponed until tomorrow.

Sensei covered pretty much what he had gone over this morning with my students and we ended at 3:00.

SUNDAY, MARCH 25: Our Yamanni-ryu open seminar was held today, at our usual haunt: Bloomfield Middle School. It was a fine spring day, on the breezy side, and early clouds would gradually lift over the course of the day. When Sensei and I pulled into the parking lot at 9:00 a.m., we found Kowa practicing for his test. As soon as I got the gym set up, Sensei started the examination. Kowa did one tunfa kata (he chose the kihon kata), two sai (he did Kyan and Kishaba sho) and two bo (he did Choun and Shirataru).

By this time, the attendees had begun to trickle in. This was going to be the best turnout I’ve had in a long time: all in all, the participants totaled over 30. Many of my own students had decided to try Yamanni-ryu: Alice Freund, Mike Kowicz, Alex Mintz, and Gregg Scott who had even brought his wife Donna, a Tae Kwon Do black belt.

Sensei bowed everyone in by 10:00 and had me lead the warmups. When I was done, he added his isolation exercises then started class with bojutsu. He took everybody through the basics then sent the neophytes to Kowa while keeping me with the main group. We did the Choun no kon katas; every time he walked by me, Sensei would give me an extra tip. Always concerned with the students, Sensei would often ask my opinion as to whether or not I thought they were getting tired. Since it was already 11:30, I felt it awkward to take a break since lunch time was only a half-hour away. So we continued with Ryubi no kon.

During lunch break, sensei Cleve Baxter and his students from the Bronx came in. Cleve had been busy in the morning helping out at a tournament in NY.

After lunch, at 1:00 p.m., Sensei resumed class with saijutsu. Many of Kowa’s students had brand new sai purchased from an importer in Seattle who had Sensei’s sai duplicated and manufactured in China. Sensei himself was using the same since he’d rather keep his originals at his dojo.

This time he gave me the beginners to teach while he took the rest through Nakan Dakari. We trained until 2:30 and I conferred with him as to the next course. We decided to take a break then resumed with tunfajutsu. Sensei took the class through Shikina kata while those who did not have (or didn’t bring) tunfas would work with me either with bo or sai.

At 3:30 we split the class up: I took a group to practice kumibo (bo application) while Sensei worked with the intermediate students on Sakugawa no kon and Kishaba no sai dai. We ended the very successful seminar at 4:00 p.m. After the flurry of picture taking, Sensei and I returned to the AAC with Cleve Baxter and his students in tow. One of Cleve’s students, Robert, was taking his shodan (1^st degree) test in Shorin-ryu.

Sensei put Robert through his paces: the brown belt performed some eight karate katas, one Yamanni bo kata, and spar with four of his classmates in attendance.

To conclude this very busy weekend, Sensei, Cleve, and I retired to Tomo’s Cuisine in Little Falls, the only authentic Japanese restaurant in the area (thanks to a tip from Mrs. Akiko Axe). Sensei thoroughly enjoyed the treat, having despaired of ever finding such a place in NJ.

WHAT’S HAPPENING IN APRIL:

KURASHITA HANSHI’S GASSHUKU, APRIL 9-15.

Kurashita sensei will be here at the dojo teaching Monday 4/9 and Tuesday 4/10 in the A.M. from 10:00 to 12:00 P.M. and in the evening from 7:30 to 9:15; Thursday 4/12 in the A.M. from 10:00 to 12:00 p.m. and in the evening from 8:00 to 9:30 p.m. Friday 4/13 in the A.M. from 10:00 to 12:00 P.M. and in the evening from 6:00 to 7:30. Saturday 4/14 and Sunday 4/15 from 10:00 A.M. To 4:00 P.M. Training fee is $250.

WHAT’S HAPPENING THIS SUMMER: OUR JUNIOR SUMMER CAMP, WEEK OF AUGUST 13-17. Our summer camp will once again provide our junior students with lots of training and fun, including weapons training with the bo (staff) and sai, culminating in a mini-tournament on Friday 8/17, a pizza party, and –new this year–a movie! Classes will run daily from 10:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. Please pack a compact lunch. Camp fee is $200. Please register early!

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

PROGRESS IN TRAINING

article by Tran sensei

How do you measure your progress in martial arts? Do you measure it by new techniques taught? New katas learned? New rank, new belt? Do you think you’re not advancing because you’re not receiving a higher rank?

Let’s analyze this thing called training and the expectations we have developed. Ranking and the belt system have to be understood properly in order to gain a correct perspective on our training.

The present belt system adopted in karate was borrowed from judo when jujitsu was transformed after WWII into a sport. For many of Japan’s classical martial arts to endure and not be banned by the Allied Forces after Japan’s defeat, a crucial move had to be made: arts became ways, ways became sports. Thus, Jigoro Kano changed deadly jujitsu into what has now become an Olympic sport played by giants. In a sport, ranking is of utmost importance, and winners and losers have to be established in competition matches. In self-defense, of course, this has no relevance, and competition is an artificial situation.

The fact that martial arts are based on combat does not mean that a martial artist is a fighter (goes looking for fights) or trains solely for the eventuality of a fight in his future. Combat, or self-protection, was a reality for the warrior class in ancient cultures. However, more than readying a person for a struggle, the warrior arts trained the mind for quick, clear decisions and the body for lightning reflexes for which its preservation would depend upon. Most importantly, the training afforded a strengthening of character, that most crucial of traits. Without character, one cannot make decisions affecting many; one cannot live a dignified and noble life.

Challenges to duels (with or without weapons, in or out of an arena) smack of hubris; the all too human egocentric need for domination and conquest does not reflect a proper quest for self-betterment. Better-than-someone-else at the expense of that person is not a noble endeavor.

Sports altered the landscape of the mind, for now training is done with a purpose: winning a match or a title, where formerly training was its own purpose. Judo established a belt system from beginner white belt to entry-level black belt and then beyond. This method assured uniformity of training, techniques learned at each level, and fairness of competition within each group. Sets of ten, whether in the kyu ranks, the dan ranks, or simply counting, is symbolic of completion.

Karate, too, in Okinawa, underwent a profound transformation due to the winds of war. Ankoh Itosu caused Shorin-ryu to become a form of physical education at the middle- and high school levels; he even split Kusanku kata into the five Pinans. Miyagi Chojun taught Goju-ryu to Okinawan troops. Where, before, training was done individually, now it was done in groups, in a regimented fashion, with counting to assure the uniformity of the steps and movements. Katas were broken up and broken down. The rhythm of techniques was disrupted and bunkai became incomprehensible, and therefore lost.

However, it was not until after Miyagi sensei’s passing in 1954 that Goju-ryu adopted a belt system, imitating judo. And here is the paradox: had Goju-ryu (and karate in general) remained an archaic cultural form in Okinawa, it might not have been known outside the Ryukyu islands; it has gained worldwide popularity only through its modernization, as foreseen by Miyagi sensei himself. On the one hand was possible extinction, and on the other potential bastardization. And yet is there a trickle of hope for die-hard traditionalists.

What does a belt measure or indicate? It’s an indication of how far a student has gone. It is not an achievement, contrary to all appearances. Although we speak of “promotion” as if we were in the army, a belt or rank only shows you where you’ve been. What does it mean? It means that all progress, achievement, comes from the student’s own effort. Achievement is not bestowed on the student by the sensei through the promoting of rank; rank is only the measurement of effort.

Although many martial arts, including karate, have converted to sports, they are not necessarily conducted as sports. They are either taught as Ways (“Do”) or Arts (“Jutsu”). Goju-ryu, mercifully, has received very few alterations from its founders and is still viewed as a Jutsu by such as Kurashita sensei, straight from the line of Seko Higa, who maintained a pre-WWII transmission. Indeed, it’s almost a contradiction in terms when one sees the nearly hidden, tucked-away headquarters of the Goju-ryu Kokusai Karate Kobudo Renmei in Naha. Mercifully also, Goju-ryu is difficult enough that few people attempt it, let alone bastardize it as they have so many other arts. Therefore our training does not center on competition nor should antagonism be its focus.

So, what is training, and learning? It comes from the student. Sensei teaches through example (“Follow me”), explicates, makes corrections, adjusts, motivates, inspires, encourages, cajoles, or even coaxes. But he can do no more. He cannot make the student learn. The student has to understand, imitate, try, fix mistakes, produce energy, concentrate, develop power, and keep on trying. Time does the rest, as long as effort is persistent and consistent. One does not advance because one gets a new rank; one gets a new rank only as a result of improvement, as a recognition of advancement. It’s not something that you earn: it’s a milestone on your path, as long as you keep treading the path.

The best analogy would be that of The Wizard of Oz: the Cowardly Lion was not granted courage nor was he awarded the gift of intrepidity; he was given an award for courage shown as he demonstrated his inherent bravery in the rescue of Dorothy. It was only a recognition of what he already had and proved to have. Ditto the Tin Man and the Scarecrow: they received the outward recognition of what they possessed inwardly but didn’t know they had.

Sensei establishes an example that the student emulates and moves towards; it’s entirely up to the individual to try his/her best to follow. The goal is in the training itself. The goal of training is not the achievement of rank or the ability to spar/fight. Proving one’s “prowess” against a fellow student is not a proof of improvement. It’s an assertion of ego.

Ability will come with progress, as symptomatic of progress. But trying one’s best has to be consistent and persistent, each and every time, when the student is in the dojo, on the floor, and in sensei’s presence. That’s part of respect, and self-respect.

Coming to practice is called keiko; training is referred to as “forging”, exemplified by the Japanese term tanren. It is as if one’s body were a piece of raw iron and it was being forged into steel; another concept is represented by the Japanese term shugyo, usually translated as “austerities”. Many people take austerities to an extreme (bordering on mortification of the flesh); I prefer “self-cultivation.” Cultivating oneself as if one were a fertile field has a more positive connotation: you bring forth what you put in, and the more attention you pay to nurturing what you have sown, the greater the yield. What’s more, the responsibility rests entirely on your lap. If you are a bad gardener, your crop fails; it’s your fault only, not your sensei’s. His responsibility was in handing you the seeds; yours is in planting and growing. He will prune as necessary.

The austerity of shugyo resides in one’s stubborn determination to train and improve; in many sports this is also valid and many top notch athletes are decidedly dogged in their pursuit of excellence. However, theirs is fixed on a goal: winning a contest, be it local, regional, international, or Olympic. And once they win that contest, their next step is to defend that title. The martial artist’s quest is more private: it concerns strictly his own improvement, measured steadily by the effortlessness of his techniques and the maturity of his mind. Satisfaction is personal. This is a case where “being selfish” is a positive quality!

We don’t train in order to get a black belt; we train in order to train. Wishing to “achieve” or wear a black belt is chimeric and unrealistic if we don’t make the effort to study and train. But then again, the black belt is only the beginning, as the term shodan denotes: the first degree is only a “young level.” The kyu ranks, before, were just preliminary steps. The journey, in truth, is itself the destination. We, however, change in the course of the journey and become more–or realize that we are more. We all can learn. Of course, there is something called ability; sometimes we have to be brutally honest with ourselves and say, “I have no ability.” And knuckle down and try even harder. And then there is that rarity called talent. We’re not all the same. But effort should always be produced, and eventually, effort produces results.

What are the results we can legitimately expect in the context of martial arts? The mastery of our own body and our own mind, through the expedience of kata. When we can tell our body to move a certain way and it does; when we can tell our mind to bend a certain way and it does; then our own body and our own mind will have been given back to us and that is the greatest gift, indeed, that we can make to ourselves. That is the greatest achievement, something the Wizard of Oz might grant.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

WORDS TO LIVE BY:

“All at once I found myself wrapped in a flame-colored cloud...I saw that the universe is not composed of dead matter, but is, on the contrary, a living Presence; I became conscious in myself of eternal life. I saw that all men are immortal...[A]ll things work together for the good of each and all; that the foundation principle of the world, of all the worlds, is what we call love, and the happiness of each and all is in the long run absolutely certain.”

R. M. Bucke, quoted in No Boundary

“For eternally and always there is only now, one and the same now; the present is the only thing that has no end.”

Erwin Shroedinger, quantum physicist

“[E]verything we do is practice, is an expression of original enlightenment.

Everything we do becomes our practice, our prayer–not just zazen, chanting, the sacraments, mantra meditation, sutra recitation or Bible readings–but everything, from washing dishes to doing income taxes. And not in the sense that we wash dishes and think of original enlightenment, but because washing dishes is itself original enlightenment.”

Ken Wilber, No Boundary

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

RECOMMENDED READING:

NO BOUNDARY by Ken Wilber, published by Shambhala 2001. Ken Wilber is a very influential philosopher (even though I hate to use the term; to me, a philosopher is one who just speculates about ideas without arriving at a conclusion. Ken Wilber arrives at conclusions very definitively.) No Boundary is the second book he wrote (originally published in 1979) and deals very clearly and successfully with the concept of non-duality, tackled from both the psychological and the spiritual points of view. Duality is our main problem; it is responsible for our feeling of separation from our world, our fellow-men, ourselves, and God. Healing our world, healing ourselves involves recognizing this split and reconciling ourselves. There is no boundary. As so aptly put in A Course in Miracles, “If you could recognize that your only problem is separation, no matter what form it takes, you could accept the answer because you would see its relevance. In this recognition there is peace.”

LIMITLESS MIND by Russell Targ, published by New World Library, 2004.

Russell Targ is a scientist who investigated ESP and remote viewing in the 60s at Stanford Research Institute in California. His findings brought him to the inescapable conclusion that there is indeed only one Consciousness, as we saw in Ken Wilber’s book earlier. There is no boundary, “That is to say, in consciousness there is only one of us here. Or, as the Buddhists and quantum physicists continuously remind us, ‘Separation is an illusion’.” He is a devoted student of A Course in Miracles, which he quotes frequently in his book. As he describes it, “The Course came as a gift, unsolicited, in the consciousness of another scientist, Dr. Helen Schucman, a clinical psychology professor at Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital in New York. As you might imagine, the last thing in the world that a Jewish psychology professor was looking for was the voice of Jesus in her head, whispering spiritual teachings and commanding her to write them down. The words she received were of such beauty and power that they have inspired and transformed people’s lives all over the world.”

Oshiro sensei's Yamanni-ryu seminar at Bloomfield Middle School, Sunday, March 25 2007