Friday, January 1, 2016

Happy 2016! Looking Back and Going Forward


Happy New Year!  First let me say I wish you all a very blessed new year and hope 2016 brings much happiness and success.

This last year was a mixed bag for me.  I don't want to write about my personal life, as this is my budo journal, but since my budo path is integrated with the rest of my life, it is difficult to separate the two.  I have written quite a lot over the years about struggle and how this has defined my Shugyo (and every other aspect to my life).  No more has this been true than the crazy ups and downs of 2015.  The one consistent thing about training in martial arts, particularly Bujinkan arts, is that there is no consistency!  Honestly, for me, I have been so caught up in trying earnestly to do what is "right" in how I train and how I teach that I fell for the basic trap of over thinking and taking it all too seriously.

I stopped laughing.  I stopped having fun.  I stopped enjoying my Shugyo.  I became more frustrated than satisfied.

And, as a result, I actually considered leaving martial arts, all martial arts, because I lost my "why".  It just wasn't worth it.


This happened for a variety of reasons, many of which have been building over the course of several years.  A big part of it was the craziness of being taught something, then told by others that was wrong, or being taught by others something entirely different.  I was constantly questioning my understanding so much that I lost confidence in my own self, not in my combative ability, but in my direction of training and whether I was actually teaching the right things to my students.  It's silly, I know, but also very real.  Normally, this wouldn't have mattered, as I have always just followed the admonition to "keep going" (Gambatte).  But, this last year it all finally bubbled to the surface and consumed me.

I love my budo friends (buyu).  I love training with different people, even those who may have an understanding or approach to this art that is different from my own.  I try to learn something from everybody.  But, as I get older and look back at the decades I've been training in this art, I see so much wasted time and effort, so much misdirection and confusion, and my own understanding and performance has suffered for it.  What has all these years gotten me?  I have no idea.  So, why have I continued?  Why do I still continue?

Isn't there something else that I could put my time, resources and effort into that would bring far more clarity, direction and results than the twisted, vague and frustrating path this Bujinkan training has become?

I am sure there is, but when I consider taking up something new, I feel something sink inside me.  The thought of starting over, with all it's demands, just doesn't resonate with me.  Yet, most of this year has been a sort of "starting over" for me - and I have found that it has helped me somewhat to get my footing again, but it's not enough.

Christmas in 2014 was when me and my family bought and moved into our new house.  Right away I began to convert our garage into a private dojo and within a few weeks our classes resumed there.  I invested in a durable, padded flooring, hung up photos of Hatsumi Soke and his teacher, Takamatsu Soke, along with my Shodo painting of "ryuuko hikan" that Soke made for me and my rank and Shidoshi menkyo certificates.  I purchased training weapons and striking or target pads.  Although cramped, it was a nice dojo.  Our classes were packed, but we trained hard.

Now that it has been a year, many students have dropped out for a variety of reasons.  Relationships, job changes, etc, forced some people to stop training.  Without a public dojo and advertising, new students were not coming in.  As a result, now my class is down to only a very small few.  Although I do enjoy a small group of hard training students, I am concerned that this trend may continue at the cost of having enough students to make it productive.  At the same time, even though I am the teacher, I am also still a student and my classes give me opportunity to work on my own training, so that is obviously a concern for me, too.


Recently, a good friend organized a seminar here with Dr. Kacem Zoughari, a phenomenal man with a deep understanding of the ryuha, or martial traditions, that make up the Bujinkan.  His level of knowledge is vast, with a doctorate degree in Japanese Studies which includes martial arts.  As a part of that, he is fluent in Japanese language, including the ancient language used during the times the old densho were written.  Thus, he can read and interpret much of the original densho scrolls and books in our ryuha, gaining him the ability to understand them at a level few others can.

I was given the great privilege to host him at my personal dojo for a night of private training with just a small handful of friends, just before his main seminar down in the Bay Area.  It was amazing and gave me a sense of something "right", a nudge so to speak.  The follow up was a full day of training at his main seminar and that helped me to really see just how deep and vast this art really is!  I've always known that, of course, but actually having someone teach directly from the photocopied densho (not someone's interpretation of the densho) was incredible!  Kanji by kanji reading and explaining of so many small details (like what a particular word meant back then, compared to today) made a huge impact on me.  It opened up something new, a shift in my perspective, and introduced me to this art in an entirely new light.


But, as the weeks went by, I still felt unsettled.  I still felt lost in my own direction.  The root of the problem really is that, although I enjoyed my new perspective, there is no teacher anywhere within reasonable distance who teaches at that level on a weekly basis.  There are teachers, of course, but they are on their own path of understanding different from what I experienced.  Without that consistent, regular, direct instruction, growth isn't sustainable.  So, I am left with a smattering of something, a snapshot of sorts, to continue to work with.  That is fine, really, for my own training.  I could just practice the basics of what I was taught over and over again.  But, I still feel it is so limited and I certainly couldn't operate a dojo on the little bit I learned.

It did, however, influence what I do know, all the material I do train and teach in my class, and that is where I have been continuing from.  I need to take refuge in that and let myself feel confident that my Shugyo, of being a student and a teacher, is still valuable and "right", even with my constant questioning and doubt.  It is, after all, part of the Great Struggle that seems to always be there.



Okay, so here we are, 2016.  It is the Year of the Red Fire Monkey.  What does that mean?  Those who know me know that I am not a big believer in astrology, but it does make for fun consideration.  When I think of a monkey, I think of crazy antics, lots of character and charm, a trickster at times and incredible agility and strength.  But, I also see community, love and ingenuity.  Depending on your views, you may see monkeys as our evolutionary ancestors.  Irregardless, you have to admit they are the closest animal to a human being that's out there, so their relationship to us is always special.  We see ourselves in them and we see them in us.



Now, with fire, I think of warmth, capable of being both healing and destroying.  A fire can be a soothing, romantic flame.  It can be a source of heat for cooking and survival, as well as a source for light and even protection.  It can destroy everything quickly, but in agriculture you burn your fields to set the stage for the next harvest.  In controlling wild fires, you can set a controlled burn to reduce the fuel it needs and cause it to burn out or change directions away from civilization.  Fire is amoral, has no inherent purpose beyond it's own properties.  Yet, symbolically, it most often is associated with power, aggression, passion, even anger.  The intensity is what most people relate with.



So, what does it mean to be a Fire Monkey?  I am not an expert and you can research that on your own.  But, relating it to my Shugyo is interesting.  I see that what has been happening for me over the course of several years has been a slow burning out of my own budo fire, down to a smoldering glow.  However, even a smoldering ember can be a catalyst for a roaring fire if the right fuel and enough oxygen is introduced to it.  The fuel, for me, is material.  It is knowledge and teaching.  The oxygen is the Bufu, or Warrior Wind.  I believe both are what my Shugyo needs.  The fuel, I believe, has been there.  I have a vast library of notes and materials, along with my own understanding.  But, I also know I need more, much more.  No fire keeps burning on the same log forever.  At the same time, nobody can give me oxygen.  Oxygen is either there or it isn't.  I have to be in the right place where the air is best, not stagnant air that is weak.  I need to find where the Bufu is strongest.

Then, I need to breathe it in!

But, Monkey has a part in this, too.  I need to laugh, I need to love and I need to play.  I need to stop taking this all so serious and return to the "why".  Monkeys don't try to "be" monkeys.  They just are monkeys.  Does that make sense?  They live in the moment, embracing it and accepting every part of it as monkeys do.  They adapt and survive, while still being who they are in all it's fullest.


I wonder if monkeys ever think about what it means to be a monkey?

There are a lot of things we all can learn from this.  Certainly, for me, finding that monkey and building that fire inside myself is something that is important to me going into this new year.  What it may or may not mean to you is for you to consider.  But, if you are feeling like your own Shugyo (and life in general) has been somehow dulled, the fire smothering or dying out, feeling heavy and losing the "why" to take another step, or even if you have stopped walking that path simply because you don't see your path anymore, let's let the monkey loose in our lives, find where we can let in that fresh, oxygen rich Bufu and, once that fire is rekindled again, grab that big oak log of knowledge and throw it on there!

We all can then dance, laugh and play around the roaring bonfire together in our reawakened Shugyo!


Gambatte!