Kendo 2011 Redux (2)

So, last week was the Sydney Kendo Club’s AGM.

This week saw me back in bogu and back at training.

Wonderful!

For the most part, I felt relaxed and in control of my kendo. After the warm-up (including 100 hayasuburi), training started with kiri-kaeshi. It included men kiri-kaeshi as well as do kiri-kaeshi. Once we completed several rounds of this we moved to kihon-waza. In particular, there was a focus on men but also kote-men cuts. My favourite technique (of the moment, at any rate) was also something we looked at. That is, harai-waza. In particular, harai-men was practised.

I will admit, towards the end, I had to stop. We are fighting colds at home at the moment and with 20 minutes to go, I suddenly felt quite light headed. On the advice of my sensei I took off my men and sat out jigeiko. However, all in all it was a good night’s training and it was great to finally get back to it. I had had a very positive session with my PhD supervisor only a couple of hours before, my sister had given birth to her second child (a baby boy) several hours before that so it ended up being an excellent way of finishing up the day!

Saturday’s training will be missed this week on account of being in Canberra for a conference at ANU but next Wednesday is not that far away!!

Kendo Kata

In the AGM last night there was some discussion about kata. Here is an 8 minute video that shows all 10 forms of kata.

2011 Kendo Redux (1)

It has been a while since I posted about specific training experiences on this blog.

About 6 months in fact.

A little embarrassing – more so when this equates to the same amount of time I have been away from training. With all the best intentions in the world, I started this year with the desire to “make a comeback”. It has not happened. This seems to be my lot with Kendo for the past year or so. It tracks back to when my routine for training was disrupted by a mid-foot sprain following the first SKC3 Tournament. In one sense this raises the interesting point about how important it is to keep to routine and to make sure, as I once posted, that if you don’t feel like going to Kendo, you go to Kendo anyway. Unfortunately, I have not been heeding my own advice. It has resulted in what I thought would happen… any little excuse made it possible for me to miss training and now I feel right out of it.

NOT THIS WEEK!!!!!

While training was not on this evening, the club’s Annual General Meeting most certainly was. I attended in order to support my club. I also thought it would be a good way of getting 2011 Kendo Redux underway!

That said, I have been posting on this blog. I’ve been attempting to meet the challenge set down by WordPress.com in relation to making one post to my blog per week (at least anyway). The topics that have been covered between the last time I posted on training experiences and the like and now are responses to suggested topics – admittedly, they have been ‘altered’ so they are appropriate for a blog about kendo.

Anyway, with Saturday morning training out of the picture this week due to a petting zoo visiting my daughter’s preschool, and parents having to go along, I will have to wait one more week before getting back into bogu and enjoying the sport that is Kendo.

What mistake or mistakes in kendo have I learnt from? (or: The time I forgot about mitori-geiko)

The single mistake in kendo from which I have learnt recently is to do with not having a routine.

No rocket science with this one.

In essence, the mistake I made was after the first SKC3s Tournament when I stopped going regularly. If ever there was something to prove the vacuum principle, this was it. The “vacuum work” principle states that if there is available space, there will be an increase in work load to fill that space. So, applied to my situation, I stopped going to training regularly and the result was that work (in this instance PhD work as well as school work) grew to fill the void.

In kendo there is what is called mitori-geiko. This is learning and progressing by watching the keiko of others. During the process, one evaluates the strong and weak points of their example. When I was injured, instead of training, and therefore exacerbating my injury, I should have attended the dojo for the sake of others. Thinking about it now, I could have simply watched and given feedback (despite being a kyu grade) or I could have taken my camera and taken some photos. In the spirit of mitori-geiko, my presence could have been an encouragement to others. I may not have been training but there could have been an instance where in being at training – even if I didn’t actually train – was helpful to a newcomer to the club because I was a familiar face.

It was a mistake. I stopped going to kendo training regularly, despite in my head I was thinking all the time “the sport I play is kendo”. It is not a mistake I am going to make again.

What is my favourite waza?

My favourite waza would be harai-waza. Admittedly, I have not been at training recently so that I can practice this but in reflecting on this particular question (adapted for Postaweek2011), I would have to say that this is it – or at least until something else takes my fancy.

This refers to any of several techniques for deflecting an opponent’s shinai and attacking in one motion.  ie Harai Men, Harai Kote, Harai Dō, Harai Tsuki.

A video demonstration, from the All Japan Kendo Federation, provides a better idea of what this actually means in practice.

What do I want to accomplish in my kendo blog?

This is not the first time I have considered this question. In fact, there is an “About this blog” section to the website! However, it is interesting to pause and reflect on the purpose of this blog, particularly as the reasons behind it have developed somewhat since actually putting together in the first place.

There are plenty of kendo blogs out there in the blogosphere. Each has a different approach to the subject or a different way of presenting it. Mine is a mix of personal reflections as well as more scholarly observations. In other words, the blog is as much about my own personal experiences as a kendoka as it is making comment on aspects of kendo. I don’t claim it to be nearly as ‘academic’ as, say, kenshi247.net – not by a long shot – but I hope it is something that provides an insight into someone’s experiences in learning kendo right from when they first entered the dojo.

Would I ever write a book about kendo?

This is an interesting question. In the immediate instance, no. I would not.

I am currently writing a PhD in ancient history and that is enough. My son asked me what a PhD was and the best answer I could come up with was “I’m writing a book about history”. That seemed to satisfy his 7 year old mind, at least for the time being. I would have to finish that project before considering others.

I would be interested in writing a book about kendo. The question is, however, how relevant for today would that be? Putting something together would appear to be straightforward enough. A couple of kendoka that I know (one from my club in fact) have published their photos of Japan – and their kendo trips in particular – in to coffee table like photobooks. The results look excellent.

Much that is good is readily available online. One can search YouTube for kendo footage from pre-World War Two Japan or of a seminar given by Chiba Sensei in Rome. Texts written by Miyamoto Musashi or by Yagyu Munenori can be found as PDFs on the internet. Of course, there are also blogs that, in essence, ensure that the writing process never really ends.

In one sense, then, I am already writing a book about kendo. It is this blog. Of course, it does not necessarily have the same weight or significance as something that has gone through the publication process that a book experiences. I do endeavour, I have to say, to make sure that what I write is intelligent. There are posts that are flippant, to be sure, but on the whole, I would look at this particular ongoing project as something that contributes to the ongoing knowledge and thinking about kendo – even if in a small way.

What are the qualities of a good sensei?

There are so many different answers to this question. Mine is: a passion for kendo that is tempered by humility.

The term sensei, while in general usage refers to “master’ or “teacher”, is a term that basically means “person born before another”. This points towards the idea underpinning the word. Namely, a sensei is a teacher who teaches based on age, wisdom and experience. In turn, there is an implication of respected stature for the individual who holds the title.

Passion for kendo – this almost goes without saying. Almost. If you are a teacher, in my opinion, it is more than reasonable to expect that you are enthusiastic for your subject. Whether this subject is history or kendo, you need to be passionate about what you are teaching about. This is because, as a teacher, there will be times that you have to front a class with nothing in the tank. That is, with no energy at all. If you do not have an enthusiasm or a passion for what you do, it will be difficult in such times to be an effective teacher.

But being a teacher is not about oneself. It is about the student. Being passionate about the subject one teaches ultimately benefits your students. In one sense, your zeal becomes their inspiration. You are passionate about your subject, your students respond well to such positivity and are inspired to work harder in and out of your class. They go the extra mile.

Humility – this almost goes without saying. Almost. On the whole, people become teachers because they love what they teach. I became a history teacher because I am very passionate about history (and in particular the place that history has in society today. That is the subject of another post for another blog). Teaching is not a vocation that brings with it one’s millions. Even Miyamoto Mushashi’s Go Rin No Sho condemns such a result. According to Musashi, poor teaching, or teachinsg with the wrong motivation, will only lead to poor technique.

How does this all relate to humility? A humble teacher is one who is not concerned with reward. They are concerned with the progress or promotion of their subject. They are concerned with the advancement of their students, often at the expense of their own time and energy. Humble teachers put their students first. If a student receives an award, a humble teacher will not look to take credit.

So, by way of a summary: a good sensei is a teacher who, as an experienced kendoka, is both passionate and humble. They are a teacher who will put their students first and stretch them with a view to making them better. While there might be more than just passion and humility as characteristics of a sensei, they are certainly important ones.

When have I felt that my kendo has been really good? (Or: when have I been “on fire” with my kendo?)

I can actually pin point a specific instance where I felt everything coming together. It was in the inaugural SKC3 Tournament a couple of years ago – ironically, the same tournament where an incurred injury threw my training out the window! That said, there was a bout where I felt my kendo was at its strongest. I can’t remember whether I won the bout or not. This is not the point. Attention is on technique in this instance.

The bout had started. Both players, my opponent and I, had been called on to the court. We had bowed (ritsurei) and moved forward to sonkyo. As we rose up from sonkyo, I let out a kiai, the sound of which I felt bounce off the walls of the hall in which the tournament was being held. My opponent stopped. I closed the distance between us so that I was at uchi-ma (or the most appropriate distance between opponents to strike). Another kiai. I saw my opponent become very uncertain. I executed a men cut. Successful, I won the point.

The success of the cut was evident not only in the fact that I won the point from that particular part of the bout but it was also because of the way in which everything came together. The initial self-presentation to the court, ritsurei and sonkyo, the kiai – these were elements that were also important in the successful completion of the cut. The way they all ‘clicked’ made me feel that my kendo was going well!

What kendo skill would I want to master immediately?

My immediate reaction to this question is that I want to master being able to “read” my opponent more accurately. That is, to anticipate what is coming and to then react accordingly. There have been drills and exercises where my concentration has not been as strong as it could be and so, when the time comes for the motodachi to open for a strike, my reaction is not as quick as I would like. That will all come with practice and training – indeed, it will only come with practice and training.

There is a second skill: fumikomi-ashi. This is the firm stepping of the right foot, with the entire sole, and forward motion of the left foot to gain forward momentum. The following video from YouTube shows Chiba Sensei demonstrating this to a dojo in Italy. There is a translator present but he is translating Japanese into Italian. However, Chiba Sensei’s discussion and accompanying demonstration makes things self-evident.

While it may appear an easy thing to stamp one’s foot as you move forward, the real ‘catch’ to this technique is having one’s timing correct. The shinai striking the target and ‘foot stamping’ all happen at the same time.

In addition to this, I also want to improve my physical resilience. That is not technically a skill, I know. However, I want to be able to keep going at training with minimal breaks and rests. I watch older, more experienced kendoka at training and they manage to do it so why can’t I? I know their kendo improves as a result – a further incentive to keep on keeping on. Again, this will come from regular and quality training – one will get used to the physical activity. It is something for me to work on.