My thoughts on Kaname かなめ

Soke has said this year that a main theme is this idea of 'kaname'. So far, I have heard it explained as pertaining to connections, transitions, and such things. I'm not going to pretend to even know what Soke means by such words. However, in my own study I have found an important meaning and, in my own current state of development in my budo path, it has come at an important time.

The kanji for 'kaname' is かなめ. The conventional interpretation is 'pivot' and 'vital point'. Now, I know by 'vital point', we aren't talking about kyusho, or the weak points of the body. Rather, this has more to do with a deeper meaning within a technique.

Every technique has actions, or sequence of specific movements. Those movements often are dependent on certain conditions to exist that make those movements logical and fitting to work properly. If those conditions change, the movement may no longer be appropriate. So, in the beginning training, it becomes important to focus on the correct attack so that the conditions are correct for the technique.

But, there is a deeper, more significant point here. In every action, there are points which are optimum for a counter or response. Every action has a weakness, or hole. Every action has a beginning and ending (timing). Every action has a line of force (angling). Every action has a range of effectiveness (distancing). Every time the body moves, there are always points it is balanced and not so balanced (kamae). And, when combined together, every attack by an uke has a specific 'kaname' when they are most vulnerable and the tori is most safe.

Even as an attack unfolds, you will see there is a specific point when the attack can be interrupted, manipulated, destroyed, and drained of power. Finding this moment is a search for 'kaname', the 'vital point'. It can also be another way to look at something else Soke has mentioned this year - the 'kyusho in the kukan'. But, although related, that's another topic for exploration.

When one looks at training from the perspective of finding that 'kaname', the techniques aren't what is seen anymore. The vision changes to present a different image. It's like the famous picture by the unknown artist where it is either a beautiful woman or an old woman depending on which you see first, but after a few minutes or so you can then see the other. The picture is the same, but your perspective now can see two pictures. Its not about the ink on the page (technique), but something deeper. It becomes a study of our own perspective instead.

For me and where I am at with my own training, I believe I am at my own 'kaname'. My vision is pivoting between technique and that mysterious place beyond technique. In class, because many of my students are new, I am focused on teaching them techniques, the tools they need their bodies to learn. But, for those who are more advanced, and especially for my own training, I want to develop a stronger sense to find this 'kaname' on an instinctual level - and develop my own taijutsu to operate within this 'vital point'. This last part is important, as it involves always being in this 'kamae', always in position to keep moving (tsugi), and constantly adjusting without sacrificing balance and power.

It's a challenging goal ahead for me and I'm looking forward to taking it on.

Gambatte!
 
 

Fumbling With A Topic (or should I "ought" to?)

I had a great conversation recently with a friend regarding individuals seeking martial arts training and whether they 'ought to'.  This led me to some deep thought and I would like to share with you my personal feelings regarding this.  I apologize if some of what I write offends anybody or seems harsh, but it's important to look at these things with a mature attitude.

For starters, let's take a look at history.  Martial arts came about because of the issue of violence.  It wasn't about trying to better ones' self, unlock some deep mystery about life and death, or build a vast network of McDojo schools.  In fact, martial arts were really a quest for survival skills that allowed one to be able to live through violence, whether in war, defending one's village and family, and defending one's self from an attacker.  It also included how to attack as a necessity for survival.  Some of this came from hunting skills to acquire food without gettung hurt or killed in the process.  It also evolved into protection from wild animals and other tribes looking to conquer and steal resources.  It was survival at it's most basic.

Eventually, military sciences were born from that, as groups became more sophisticated and societies developed.  Unit tactics evolved into a mainstream of training.  But, at the core, individual skills were still practiced, developed and nurtured.  Old veteran fighters shared their experiences with younger fighters and those who made a name for themselves became teachers as their trade.  Young warriors would hear of these people and seek out their guidance.  Some would be fortunate enough to have these teachers as part of their military group or society, so they had regular access to a quality teacher.  But, as warriorship became a trade or full time occupation, where personal skills were not just for success on the battelfield, but as a way to gain fame and status, early martial artists set out to increase their skills through training and challenges.  To find the best teachers, they would travel far, endure personal hardships, often becoming injured and sometimes even dying in the process.

But, finding a teacher didn't automatically mean you would be accepted as a student and certainly many young men were turned away, even if they gave up everything and went through immense sacrifice to get there.  Many also gave all to pursue notable teachers, only to find out the rumors and legends were either false or grossly overstated, including many frauds and cult leaders.  Some even discovered their great "master" was purely fictional.

Those who were fortunate enough, had the right "stuff", and were accepted as a student gave their lives to the training - because they knew what it took to get this opportunity.  Their teacher represented an ideal they sought for themselves, whether it was a specific style of swordsmanship, grappling, sticks and long staves, or whatever.  The whole thing even evolved into spiritual/religious training, where teachers were not just teaching fighting skills, but also spiritual guidance and lifestyle.  Some arts even dropped the combat aspect of their training to become entirely about personal development, spiritual practices, and such.

I say all this to illustrate the point that, historically, to be a budoka (martial artist) was a real thing.  It took personal courage, sacrifice and hard work.  There were no guarantees and sometimes people were simply not accepted for a variety of reasons.  In today's martial arts, most of the time whoever is willing to show up and pay tuition is automatically accepted into the class, whether that person really 'should' be part of the class.

In the Bujinkan, we have guidelines.  As part of those guidelines, it is made very clear that those with mental illness, bad character and criminal histories are supposed to be turned away.  This is important for reasons that should not need clarification.

But, what isn't mentioned is that not everybody is suited for this kind of training.  There are people who want to take up all sorts of things, but it doesn't mean that they are suited for all things.  That doesn't mean they couldn't be, either.  It just means that maybe *right now* they are not suited for it (unless the reason is such that it will always be a factor).  I'm not suited to climb a 1k meter rock face.  But, I could train for it, learn the techniques, and one day actually do it.  But, I couldn't go out right now and just start climbing.  Not successfully, anyway, and not without a high amount of personal risk.  I'm simply not ready yet.

There are people who come to a martial arts dojo and want to learn martial arts.  That's wonderful.  But, they may have deeply rooted emotional or health issues.  Maybe they were a victim of a terrible violent crime and they still have issues to work through regarding violence.  Would subjecting them to controlled violence on the mat be appropriate?  Some say so.  Some also say it could tip the balance and incur an emotional damage, a "re-victimization".  That's not a healthy approach to learning martial arts.

Compare that to someone who is terribly overweight, with zero physical fitness, who has a sedentary life and consumes all the wrong foods.  Would they be doing themselves the best good by continuing their bad habits, but coming to the dojo to learn martial arts?  Some think so (it is exercise, after all).  Some think you should at least prepare your body first for the training.

I write about this because these things are important to consider.  A teacher is supposed to look out for the best interest of their student, right?  So, would telling a student they really should go get a psychological evaluation first, to make sure they are emotionally and mentally able to benefit from training, be in line with looking out for the best interest of the student candidate?  Or maybe telling the terribly unhealthy student candidate they should condition their body a bit before taking on the demands of training, which not only will offer them a far better training experience, but also start them on a path towards increasing their health (since their own unhealthy lifestyle is a far greater danger)?

Some people would disagree.  Some would say their dojo training would encompass those things (yes, even 'healing').  I tend to lean towards disagreement with that thinking, at least for the classes I teach.  In my class, I train fighters.  I train people who are there to learn how to protect themselves and others from real violence.  We talk plainly about the violence and we explore a variety of situations that involve really brutal aspects.  This isn't to glorify the violence or build ego.  Rather, it's a mature approach to "why" we train.  I'm not a priest, I'm not a therapist, I'm not a fitness coach.  I'm a budoka.

And, I'm not judging any specific individual or group on their choice to train - and who to train.  I'm simply doing a bit of literary pondering on this subject.

For me, I prefer to surround myself with those who are great examples of budoka, who continue to push hard to overcome their obstacles, and have the internal balance, guts, capacity and talent that shows they are exactly where they "ought" to be.  They motivate, inspire and keep me going even when I start to question if I'm where I "ought" to be!

And, if I feel somebody isn't suited *right now* (or ever) for this kind of training, I believe it is my responsibility to turn them away.  I may even start their training by giving them a goal to be accepted in the class, such as spending a couple months in a fitness regimen (with obvious results), getting a doctor's clearance, getting a psychological evaluation, etc.