The Yudansha meal

Zenshin dojo operates a traditional hierarchical structure with members split into two basic groups, the first, Kyu (pronounced Q), and the second, Dan.  The terminology has its roots in the popular strategy board game, Go.  Centuries ago players would be ranked according to their experience and skill.  Confusingly the more junior the player in terms of experience, the numerically higher their kyu grade, in other words first kyu was the highest rank.  Conversely the ranking of senior players, dans, numerically were numbered in a manner more easily understood i.e. one being the lowest.

In a martial arts context and in particular within the karate world, the kyu and dan approach to grading is ubiquitous. The coloured belt (obi) rankings often differ, but generally, the most junior rank within the majority of karate groups, is either sixth, seventh or eighth kyu.  Zenshin dojo ranks begin at “Novice” which equates to seventh kyu, although this title is never used.  Red belt is the first grade i.e. sixth kyu.

Kyu grade practitioners are known collectively as “Mudansha” meaning those without dan!

Zenshin dojo tries to walk the fine line between respecting and understanding the traditions and heritage of karate-do, without becoming so immersed in the formality of Japanese etiquette so often seen in other karate clubs, sometimes to the point of obsession. 

For many karate groups dan grades can go as high as tenth dan. The problem is that for most people, particularly from western cultures, it’s easy to believe a tenth dan must be “better” than a ninth dan.  In reality it just doesn’t work that way.  Dan ranks can be awarded for administrative or honorary reasons; these have nothing to do with karate skill or prowess.   Furthermore Karate is an unregulated, diverse industry so comparisons are almost impossible.  One group’s tenth dan may be another group’s third dan etc.  For example, American “Great Grandmaster Fred Villari” is a fifteenth dan.  His website extols he is “the highest rank one can attain in a martial art.” At the risk of sounding disrespectful his exalted grade may be more of a commercial lure than evidence of his karate competence.  By contrast, Gichin Funakoshi the Okinawan man widely accepted as first introducing karate to Japan was, after a lifetime of practice, a mere fifth dan.  This brings us nicely to the Zenshin dojo dan grade ranking.

Funakoshi Sensei

Rob first practiced the “Shotokai” style (see previous blog) with Mitsusuke Harada sensei.  Harada, in common with every other practitioner from that particular lineage, remained a fifth dan until the day he died having been awarded the rank in 1956!  Consequently the Zenshin dojo dan grades rank from one to five only.

The collective name for dan grade practitioners in “Yudansha”.

In 2005, the very first meal for Yudansha  took place.  It was an opportunity for those most senior Zenshin dojo members to meet, eat, drink and generally enjoy each other’s company in a formal yet relaxed environment. It was also an occasion for Rob to recognise and celebrate individual achievements and present awards.  From that time the Yudansha-kai, (Association of black belts) was formed.

2005

 

Since then the Yudansha meal has become an established annual Zenshin dojo tradition, missed only once in 2020 as a result of the global pandemic.  Occasionally guests are invited, but essentially the evening bonds black belt members together as a community within a community expressly dedicated to the future preservation and long-term growth of the club.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

People Centric Karate

 Zenshin dojo is a “People Centric Karate” club.  But what does that mean?

In my forty years of karate experiences I’ve travelled the world, practised with many groups, sampled different styles and disciplines and met some amazing teachers and practitioners.  In the course of my travels I've come to the conclusion karate clubs or organisations tend to be fall into one of two categories.

The first I would label "Karate Centric", groups where the central focus is on the karate itself.  I compare this particular genre, metaphorically, to a fitness centre or gym.  The gym owners provide all the necessary equipment for their members to keep fit.  There are staff on hand to help gain the most from particular exercises and there is real benefit from regular attendance.  However the gym centre staff are not personal trainers their role is one of general facilitation rather than bespoke guidance.  If the gym folds the members find another gym and carry on as before.

The second category I've called "Personality Centric". This type of club or organisation are personality driven, that is to say they revolve around an individual. This person is generally a high grade, a “Master”, often opinionated and can be guilty of being blinkered to alternative views. In the worst of cases the phrase “my way or the highway” comes to mind. For groups like this, all too often when the “master” leaves, retires or dies a power vacuum is created causing internal political division and ultimate disintegration of the organisation or club.

To be honest, over the years, I’ve experienced both genres.  However, I assert Zenshin dojo falls outside the two categories.  I should add that neither are wrong or incapable of providing excellent karate tuition, nevertheless I find the distinction interesting but neither very appealing.

Some years ago, following an Iain Abernethy seminar, two young men from differing karate styles and clubs approached me.  I’d never met either before.  They explained that they had attended many such seminars in all parts of the country but found the Zenshin dojo environment unusually warm and welcoming. Their comments got me thinking.

The sun radiates light and heat which enables life on Earth to be possible.  Its warmth nurtures, allowing all living things to grow and develop.  It could be argued that in the aforementioned categories either the karate or the master are the metaphoric sun.  But for Zenshin dojo it’s the members who are central to the existence of life.

Taking the metaphor a stage further, various academics have been quoted as saying “the relaxation we feel when we sit by an open fire can be traced back to our ancient ancestors who saw flames as essential to safety, survival and socialising”. I’m sure we can all agree that on a cold winter's evening there are few things more inviting than a roaring fireplace. The flickering flames draw us in and capture our attention.

The Zenshin dojo “fire” was lit in 1992. Like all fires it needs constant maintenance to prevent the flames from dying. A regular supply of combustible material has to be gathered, stored and added to keep the fire burning brightly. But who gathers the wood?

For many years I have been the primary source and in the past couple of decades that responsibility has been shared with the Instructors and club seniors who are all committed to keeping the fire alive. But here we return to our “People Centric Karate” maxim for it is our members who by their attendance truly keep the fire healthy, bright and burning. Their individual contribution may be perceived as relatively small, nonetheless even the smallest sliver helps and without it the flame dies.

So please remember, every time you attend a class, residential weekend, dojo practice, or social event, you are helping the collective keep the flame eternal thus allowing us all to benefit from the warmth and nourishment our club "fire" provides.

The Evolution of Zenshin dojo

Funakoshi 

This article shouldn’t be seen as a definitive commentary of karate’s history.  Rather it seeks to simply track karate’s evolution from Okinawa to Zenshin dojo, thus providing a basic understanding of the origins of Zenshin dojo practices and in so doing offer context to Zenshin dojo members.

Many scholars believe the genesis of karate can be traced from India, through China and beyond via trade routes and migration.  It is widely accepted a man called Funakoshi Gichin, introduced karate developed in Okinawa to mainland Japan.  Arguably there were others but this article focuses on the Funakoshi legacy.

Culturally, some  individuals would be referred to by a pseudonym or pen name.  This tradition becomes significant in the context of our story.

Funakoshi’s pen name was 'Shoto' which roughly translates to pine waves, an apparent poetic reference to the Okinawan winds gently blowing through the pine trees.

If someone wanted to learn karate from Funakoshi they would visit him at the hall, known as 'kan', where he taught. Therefore if a person practised with Funakoshi they would be members of "Shoto’s kan."

Although Funakoshi was an impressive advocate of his art, karate was perceived by many as a Chinese fighting system at a time when relations between the two countries were not great. Consequently, Funakoshi initiated subtle alterations with a view to making the discipline more acceptable to a Japanese audience, however it didn’t really take hold until Japan geared up for the Sino-Japanese War.  Karate, particularly kihon, lent itself well to military training and karate practices were accepted as an excellent way of improving the physical condition of young men.  It had also taken root in the Japanese University culture which is believed to be the birth of competition based sport karate. 

When Japan surrendered to the Americans thus ending the war, Tokyo was awash with American GI’s attracted to the martial arts, as a result some cross fertilisation took place.

According to his own account, Manchurian born Mitsusuke Harada, joined Shoto’s kan around this time.  By then Funakoshi was an old man and in April 1957 he died. 

Following his death, there was a dispute relating to his funeral arrangements.  The Japanese Karate Association (JKA) had been created and felt it was their responsibility to organise the funeral, however, some believed the JKA had moved away from the original concepts and philosophy so important to Funakoshi, consequently those who chose a different path from the JKA, notably Funakoshi’s uchi-deshi, Shigeru Egami, supported by Funakoshi’s family and friends, formed a separate alliance collectively known as the Shoto-kai (Association of Shoto).

Egami and Harada

Harada had become close to Egami and legend has it the two trained constantly together for a whole year, however, by the time of Funakoshi’s death, Harada, who worked for an international bank, had been posted to Brazil by his employers.     

Unsurprisingly, Harada wanted to introduce Funakoshi's karate to a South American audience and therefore was awarded the rank of 5^th dan.

In February 1963, Harada was invited to teach at a dojo in Paris.  Initially he planned on staying for a year, but he experienced immigration problems and a personality clash with another Japanese instructor.  

At some point in time, a Shotokan practitioner called Tetsuji Murakami met and trained with Egami sensei.   Murakami was so impressed by Egami’s approach to karate practice he effectively converted to the Shotokai style.  Accordingly, by the time of Harada’s arrival in France, Murakami had already established himself as an important karate figure on the continent.   

Murakami

It’s clear that Harada and Murakami did not get on and there were significant and profound differences in their approaches and interpretations of Egami’s teachings.  What exactly happened is difficult to pin down, but whatever the reasons, Harada moved to UK and Murakami remained a European karate leader primarily based in France but with an ever expanding organisation across Europe.

Harada settled in Cwmbran, Wales, and formed the Karate Do Shotokai (KDS).  His innovative and original practices were exciting and engaging. Consequently the KDS grew in popularity throughout England, Scotland and Wales.

In early 1984, Rob Jones, founder of Zenshin dojo, began practising karate in Pill where he was the resident community police officer.   He was keen to get to know some troublesome teenagers who frequented the local youth club and subsequently joined the karate club there.

Even as a beginner, he felt the club’s style, a derivative of Shotokan, was poor, the techniques unnecessarily rigid and the general environment unappealing.  Luckily, by chance, he was introduced to a 2^nd dan practitioner, a student of Harada and member of the Karate Do Shotokai.  So impressed was Rob that he immediately committed himself to Harada’s teachings through the guidance of his teacher.

By the end of the 1980’s Harada’s group began to fracture.  The fault line lay between Harada and two of his highest, most respected grades, Billy Haggerty and Colin Reeve.  Matters couldn’t be reconciled and in due course Haggerty and Reeve left the KDS to begin their own organisation called The Shotokai Foundation.  Haggerty was particularly popular in Scotland; Reeve was based in the south of England.  As a consequence of the breakup, many Scottish clubs and a considerable number of English clubs aligned themselves with Haggerty and Reeve.

Rob with Billy Haggerty

Colin Reeve

Rob followed his instructor Adrian Baker and became a member of the Shotokai Foundation.  Things seemed to be going well.  Rob was awarded his first dan in 1992, and opened his own club in Keynsham.  However, it became increasingly obvious that Haggerty and Reeve offered competing karate perspectives.  

There couldn’t be two 'Kings', consequently, for whatever reason, in 1993 Haggerty left and created a new group based in Glasgow called Shoto Budo.  

The Shotokai Foundation continued for several more years before Reeve decided to leave and start his own group called the Shotokai College. The void created by Reeve’s departure was filled by a small group of seniors all of whom had reached the grade of 5^th dan.  But by the early 2000’s it was evident there were “too many cooks” and ego’s were beginning to clash.  

Things came to a head in 2002.  With emotions running high the manifest differences between all concerned couldn’t be reconciled so the Shotokai Foundation once again fractured and yet another karate organisation, Shin Do Shotokai, was born.

By this time Rob had reached the rank of 4th dan and was instrumental in the day to day administration of the new group.  His Keynsham club had attracted a healthy membership, but with additional venues outside Keynsham, the club had geographically outgrown its name.  Subsequently, in 2004 a new name was chosen, Zenshin dojo.

Rob’s desire to broaden his karate experience and knowledge blossomed in 2000.  During a working visit to Lyon France, he visited a French Shotokai club.  Despite the warm cordial welcome, differences in technique, basic shapes and practices were immediately apparent.  It transpired the Lyon group were members of  Karate Do Shotokai Europe, an organisation directly descended from Tetsuji Murakami.  

Murakami had died in 1987 leaving no single successor. As a result, there were many independent European Shotokai karate groups whose lineage could be traced back to him.  

Friendship overcame Shotokai karate practice differences and in 2003 Rob was invited to attend the first ever "Shotokai International Meeting", in Almada, Portugal.

The organisers recognised how fragmented the Shotokai 'style' had become and hoped to bring the diverse groups from around the globe together, to talk, share knowledge, promote understanding and in so doing bring some consistency to Shotokai practices.  

Rob receiving a gift from the Portuguese organisers

The conference, although well attended by over 80 delegates from across most European nations and as far away as Argentina and Mexico, was dominated by practitioners of the Murakami school of Shotokai.  Despite receiving an invitation, Harada sensei had refused to participate or send a representative which resulted in the fact Rob was the only delegate who had ever experienced his teachings. 

Rob's friendship with the French and appearance at the Shotokai International Meeting opened many doors.  In the following years he accepted invitations to practice with groups across Europe, notably in Portugal, France, Belgium, Switzerland and Italy.   His ever growing network and exposure to different practices and opinions provided an unfortunate contrast to the karate practised by Shin Do Shotokai. 

The Zenshin dojo team with Keisuke Nakagawa and Koibuchi sensei

A particularly close relationship with Italian, Marco Forti resulted in a 2005 visit to Cesena, Italy and  a subsequent invitation to participate  in an autumn Gasshuku in Fontanellato.  

Unfortunately for Rob, the dates clashed with a wedding commitment, however he felt it important for Zenshin dojo to be represented at the event because it offered an opportunity to meet and practice with several Japanese karate masters who had been direct students of Egami sensei.  

These inspiring, humble, friendly men were members of a Japan wide organisation called the Yuten-kai, (Association of Egami).

Rob with Enzo Cellini and Yutenkai masters Pisa 2007

It transpired that three Yutenkai masters from the Fujitsu dojo, each year, routinely shared their knowledge, experience and teaching at a karate camp held on a Mediterranean beach just outside Pisa.  Their host, 5th dan senior karate-ka Enzo Cellini, was friends with Marco Forti and through that connection Rob was invited to attend the 2007 Pisa event.  

Marco Forti, Rob, Enzo Cellini

From then on friendships grew.  Rob and other Zenshin members became regular attendees at the Pisa camp, each year guided by the Yutenkai masters and supported by their increasingly friendly Italian peers.

Sadly, the Shin Do Shotokai, “Technical Directors”, Alan Neish and Stephen Gilmour, were becoming increasing unhappy with Rob’s experiences in the wider karate world.  They certainly didn’t share his open mindedness or willingness to explore new perspectives. Despite his sincere commitment to continue helping and supporting Shin Do Shotokai, Rob became increasingly marginalised and a rift developed between him and Gilmour.  

In 2009, Shin Do Shotokai collapsed; the organisation was dissolved with the remaining funds divided equally between the five 5^th dans.  From that moment on Zenshin dojo became an independent club, not affiliated to any association or group.  

Later that year, seven Zenshin dojo members and a large contingent of Italian friends visited Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, and attended a karate camp in sight of Mt Fuji hosted by the Yutenkai masters.

The Zenshin dojo group in front Mt Fuji

Zenshin dojo group performing the kata Meikyo

During their stay, respects were paid at the grave of Egami sensei and Funakoshi sensei .

Rob at Egami sensei's grave

Zoe at Funakoshi sensei's grave

In 2010, Zenshin dojo organised an International karate gathering, (Gasshuku), in Bristol.  The practice weekend at the University of the West of England, attracted over 150 karate practitioners from seven different countries and was led by three Yutenkai masters supported by six other experienced Yutenkai members.

Ariga sensei leading the Gasshuku

Koibuchi sensei, Rob, Ariga sensei and Nakano sensei

By this time Marco Forti had become disillusioned with Shotokai karate.  Consequently he became a student of Hanshi Patrick McCarthy an internationally recognised karate pioneer and academic.  McCarthy has authored many books relating to karate and the Okinawan martial arts, most notably the 'Bubishi' a classic text, known as the “bible of karate” by many eminent practitioners.  Marco soon adopted McCarthy’s innovative approach and training methods and became a student of Koryu Uchinadi Kenpo-jutsu, a modern interpretation of Okinawa’s historic fighting arts.

Rob with Patrick McCarthy

In 2012, on a visit to Italy, Rob attended a Koryu Uchinadi Kenpo-jutsu seminar and met Patrick McCarthy.   From then their relationship developed and Rob attended Koryu Uchinadi seminars led by McCarthy either in Italy or in UK every year until the pandemic.

Zenshin dojo has adopted a small selection of the Koryu Uchinadi Kenpo-jutsu practices which add balance and something a little different to the overall Zenshin dojo syllabus.

History, and Rob’s personal karate journey, has inevitably influenced and shaped the Zenshin dojo curriculum.  Consequently, Zenshin dojo is a non style based independent club offering a blend of Shotokai karate as developed by Mitsuske Harada sensei; Egami ryu as taught by the Japanese Yutenkai group, and Hanshi Patrick McCarthy’s Koryu Uchinadi Kenpo-jutsu.

1st Kyu (Brown belt) Welsh Retreat

The weekend retreat in Wales was the first for the Zenshin dojo 1st kyu (brown belt) group.  After navigating enforced traffic delays, including the South Wales rush hour, accidents and roadworks, eventually eight members, drawn from across Zenshin dojo, sat together to enjoy excellent food prepared by Lucy.    The idea of the retreat is to bring people together, allowing them to mix and

mingle in a way ordinarily difficult during the weekly practice schedule.

 It doubles as an intensive karate experience and socially enjoyable get together.  Lucy had pre-prepared an excellent chilli; one veggie, one meat, and all the trimmings.  After supper, the group moved outside to the decking area adjacent to woodland and, in the cool evening air, drank, joked and conversed with each other whilst sitting comfortably around a blazing fire pit.

The next morning, after breakfast and posing for a pre practice photo, the group drove the short distance to LLanstefan beach.  The weather was amazing.  The sun shone, the big sky was clear blue, the rolling Welsh hills green and picturesque.  The otherwise deserted beach was a vast open space of golden sand ranging from talc like softness to a yielding firmness.

Practice began immediately with a run to the water line and back before lining up for kihon.  The kihon practice, although simple and basic, enjoyed a magical quality.  The group were encouraged to take advantage of their spacious, open and glorious surroundings, keeping their vision up and out as they moved slowly and methodically back and forth for a considerable distance.  The gang then adjourned to the water’s edge where the group experienced kiba dachi and shiko dachi, rooting themselves to the ground to prevent being blown over by the significantly strong, warm wind racing across the water.  It was as if nature itself was testing their stances.

Later, the group worked their Heian katas and were introduced to the conceptual “circle of excellence”, designed to encourage and improve their understanding of mushin and zanshin.  From Heian they progressed to Bassai Dai, the traditional 1st kyu to 1st dan kata.  Much work needed to be done and the group separated into pairs, working with each other, feeding back and discussing techniques.

Lunch back at the Lodge was provided by Gemma and Bev; a simple but delicious selection of salad, condiments, bread, quiche and cold meats.  Ninety minutes later everyone was back on the beach, thrown head first into fast Sanbon, Ippon, jyu Ippon and jyu kumite.  It was a tough session, but the time available allowed Rob to explain in detail the fundamentals of kumite, its nuances and what was expected.  The group rose to the challenge and after much practice the intensity of engagement and overall understanding grew to a more advanced level.

After a short water break, it was the turn of Tekki drills from the “clinch”.  Unfamiliar for some and a refresher for others.  After explaining these exercises were a form of kumite, but often interpreted as more obvious self defence techniques, as opposed to the more profound skills and qualities found in the previous kumite practice, Rob took the opportunity to place Emily under considerable pressure by organising a mock “clinch” assessment.  Her seven assailants lined up in front of her and attacked with right hooks as Emily defended herself with vigour and searched for the presence of mind to deliver effective responses.

As the clouds began to gather the group moved to the water’s edge for final Bassai Dai practice.  First in groups, then solo, then finally in the cold, River Towy water.

The Zenshin Dojo Katana

Wikipedia describes the katana as historically one of the traditionally made Japanese swords used by the samurai of ancient and feudal Japan.  The katana is characterised by its distinctive appearance: a curved, single-edged blade with a circular or squared guard, and long grip to accommodate two hands.

The Zenshin dojo katana, was bought on behalf of the club from a dealer in April 2004.  It represents a metaphor for the qualities required to achieve dan grade (black belt), and therefore is not intended to be interpreted in the context of the samurai, combat, or “budo” arts.

The sword itself can be perceived as an object of grace and beauty, and yet it retains the ability to cause harm and injury. Like our art, it relies upon the integrity of the owner to use it without malice; honestly and honourably.    The blade, forged by a craftsman for countless hours, represents the labour; time, care and endeavour required to progress through the kyu grades thus demonstrating there are no short cuts to “forging” both sound character and good technique. The Samurai was never seen without the katana and so should this be for karate.  Recognising its value in all aspects of everyday life is what differentiates karate from other forms of physical activity.

The Zenshin dojo katana blade edge (ha), is sharp and remains hidden, sheathed in a plain undecorated scabbard (saya) it’s exposed only on rare occasions thus signifying that, like the karate ka, beneath the unpretentious façade exists a “cutting edge” capable of significant impact.  The primary occasion for exposure of the blade is the acceptance of a new member into the “Yudansha-kai”, (black belt association).

The age of the weapon represents “history”, “a past” metaphoric of experience.  As a genuine antique it represents “an authentic article” and is thus symbolic of the meaningful nature of dan grade achievement and Yudansha.  More decorative swords can be purchased.  To the untrained eye they are pleasing and impressive, however they lack that certain something necessary to be “the real deal”

The signature on the tang (that portion of a sword that is hidden by the handle), is authentic, engraved by the master smith Sadahiro around 1680.  It was common practice in the ShinShinto period (1764 – 1868) to put an old tang on a new blade, basically to give the blade more prestige in an attempt to increase its value.
It’s a Tsugi Nakago which basically means that the original nakago (tang) has been removed and replaced with a different one. The signature is gimei (gimei swords are those that bear a fake signature) to the blade (as in Sadahiro didn’t forge this blade) but the signature was declared authentic by sword expert Steve Smith of Liverpool Museum. This is quite rare in itself as there’s an old Japanese saying “11 out of 10 signatures are fake”. The Sadahiro tang was probably taken from a fatally flawed or broken blade. The tang from the other katana was removed and welded to the new one.  An old blade by a master smith is worth a lot of money. It was probably done during shin-shinto times but possibly it could have been done as late as World War 2. 

During the forging process, when the smith folded the steel, he mishit the blade once with his hammer letting air into the fold thus giving the club blade its one minor flaw.

The blade is forged in the Mino Tradition, a collective name for sword maker’s schools in the Japanese province of Mino, which had similar characteristics in varying degrees. The centre of sword making schools in the Mino tradition was the city Seki near Gifu.  The blade has a Sugu-ha hamon (straight pattern) Suguha is one of the oldest patterns of hamon; and muji hada (grain).   Muji means a "plain" or "unfigured", ji (blade surface). This is a hada (grain) with a very small, very tight pattern which is very difficult to discern. The boshi of this blade is also perfect; quite a lot of Katana’s are fire damaged on the boshi from the Samurai cooking food on the end of the blade! (Boshi is the shape of temper line in the point of the sword).

 The tsuba (sword guard) is not original to the blade.  The original tsuba was a very plain circular open work one.   The current tsuba has not been appraised therefore unfortunately not much is known about it.  It’s authentic Japanese and very old, probably 18th Century but could be much older.

The saya (scabbard or sheath) is probably from the 1960 /70s.  Whenever a Japanese blade is polished there is a need to replace the old saya with a new one as the slightest bit of dirt or grit in the saya can damage and spoil a freshly polished blade.

Within Zenshin dojo Rob holds the official title of Sōsetsu-Shihan  (founder).  He currently has responsibility for the maintenance, safe storage and use of the club katana.  In due course, this responsibility will pass to the elected Zenshin dojo President.

All new Zenshin dojo Yudansha have their award commemorated with an official picture, sat formally in seiza behind the unsheathed katana.  The club website, members only area, displays the photographs and records details of the individual Yudansha members.

Kelly's Journey

Where do I start? It was a year ago I tentatively took my first steps through the door.  I was a newly wed of a few weeks and had unfortunately fallen into a rut,gained weight, doing a college course that was making me truly miserable and was becoming very jaded with the way my life was heading.  Now,by nature I’m a very confident and outgoing lady but it at times can be a mask to conceal the little girl underneath who never felt quite like she fitted in.  Rob immediately enveloped me in a hug and made me feel welcome right from the get go,as did all the other black belts.  Unlike all forms of physical extracurricular activity I’ve partaken in as an adult, karate doesn’t just work on the outer shell because as I say, skin is merely there to stop your insides from slopping out!

But more importantly it teaches you to look deep within yourself and approach life in a more meaningful and person centred way.  I will always be nuttier than a lion bar but I can honestly say since joining up with this wonderful group of individuals and turning the dreaded 40 at Christmas, my soul has never known such inner peace and it has impacted outside of karate too! 

My health has improved massively, I’ve lost weight, I’m doing things with my body I couldn’t have envisaged even attempting a year ago with my crippling back pain. 
These wonderful people make you feel like you have wings and nothing is unattainable.  With karate, I leave all the worries outside the dojo and when the class is over, I depart feeling ten feet tall.  It even gave me the courage to go into a completely different career which makes me happy EVERY day to give something back. 

I have made some wonderful friends and suffice to say, am definitely in it for the long haul and cannot recommend it enough to anyone, regardless of race/gender/size/ability.
Karate changed my life completely.

A Tale of Love and Loss

I’ve never been someone who covets personal possessions and always favoured a minimalist approach to material wealth.  One of the original attractions of karate was the lack of any need for equipment or expensive clothing; all that was required was a plain white karate gi (karate uniform affectionately known as pyjamas), an open mind and willing heart.That said, the karate and wider martial arts world, like most sports and leisure activities, have its fair share of accessories and adornments. Gi’s costing many £100’s if not more, gi’s of every colour and design, belts of quality and symbolism, medals, cups, badges, patches, weapons, weapon cases, the list is endless and manufacturers are quick to seize a marketing opportunity and tap into the popular culture of materialism and tribal identity.But for me none of this held any value and I revelled in the simple bliss of a plain white karate suit and belt. Nothing special, cheap but comfortable, and suitable for my needs.

After over 25 years of regular practice, in 2009 I was fortunate to be invited to a karate camp near Mount Fuji in Japan. My hosts were men who I respected enormously and held in the highest esteem, not only for their undoubted karate wisdom, but as human beings they possessed all the qualities I hold most dear, integrity, warmth, humility and an open, giving nature. 

During my stay, I felt honoured to be ceremonially presented with an unusual, personalised black belt. The kanji recorded my name and the occasion and was thoughtfully handed to me by Tetsuya Koibuchi Sensei and Isao Ariga sensei, men whose karate skill and wisdom is only eclipsed by their personal virtues.Japanese culture has a unique approach to quality; well made items such as the katana sword are appreciated, treasured and sometimes even revered.  So it was with my new belt. Purchased from a reputed supplier in Tokyo, traditionally made using a rare thread weaved carefully to form a belt which oozed quality. Wrapping it around my waist one could almost sense the craftsmanship and hours of labour needed for such a fine item. 

For the first time in my karate career I possessed something I valued and my emotional investment was intensified when news of the untimely death of one of the men who had passed it to me. Rest in Peace Isao Ariga sensei.

A handshake from the wonderful Isao Ariga Sensei

Returning to England from that first Japanese camp experience I proudly wore my new belt to every session. It became my constant companion, worn three or four times a week accompanying me when I taught and when I learnt; a fellow traveller in my bag as I practised my chosen art throughout Europe and Japan.So precious was this simple cloth belt that when writing my Will I informed the solicitor I wanted the belt to be bequeathed to my only son and kept in my family in perpetuity.

After nearly ten years, the constant tying and untying began to have an impact and the threads were becoming increasingly prominent. For many karate practitioners this overt display of use advertised their experience for all to see but for me thoughts of retiring such a precious object started to become louder.

Receiving the belt from Koibuchi Sensei

Each year I lead a residential weekend of karate training. Situated in the peaceful and scenic Gloucestershire countryside, the seminar allows for intensive and concentrated training for all those attending.  I decided that after the 2018 event I would retire my belt and preserve it for the future. Of course I would wear it on special occasions but I didn’t want to risk degrading the weave to such a point that the kanji and overall integrity of the material was compromised

One Sunday evening, a week prior to the annual Gloucestershire retreat, I taught my normal class of teenage students. The dojo for this particular Sunday was a school gymnasium; a regular and convenient location for many of the classes delivered by our club instructors.By 7pm the last student had departed and I gathered my belongings and headed for the door. It was an unusually warm and humid night but as usual I gave a last look around the room to ensure nothing had been left by students, parents or instructors.
Two days later I prepared for my regular evening class. Packing my bag I was surprised my belt was not in its usual place.  Time was against me so with no more thought I grabbed a spare and left for my class.  I have a young family and I was fairly sure one of the children had found daddy’s belt and used it as a slide or lasso or just thought it would be fun to hide it.

The next morning the continued absence of the belt spurred me into action and I began searching the house. One by one (I have four), I asked my son and daughters “have you seen or moved daddy’s karate belt?” They had not. At this point my concern became real. Could I have left it in the Sunday evening hall? The school caretaker, Martin, is a particularly helpful and friendly character. Still doubting the belt was truly lost and believing it was somewhere in my house I contacted him and requested he check the school for me.Twenty minutes later Martin called with bad news.My belt had been found on Monday morning by the school cleaner. She had handed it to a Physical Education teacher who had in turn left it in the school’s PE Office. Unfortunately a member of staff had little regard for the worn and threaded belt and threw it in the bin. In desperation I told Martin I would be willing to search the school bins to recover my precious item only to be told the bin had been emptied by the local authority and contents on their way to land fill.

And so my love affair with a piece of black cloth had come to an ignominious end and my dream of handing down a meaningful family heirloom was over. I was desperately sad and disappointed in the actions of the school staff who demonstrated little or no regard or empathy to the possibility the belt may have a value, financially or otherwise, but I guess one man’s treasure is another man’s trash. My seven year old daughter enquired why I was sad.  After explaining she said, “don’t worry dad I’ll make you a belt.”  The love from a child can never be underestimated and if she presented me with a piece of string to tie my trousers, I would treasure it, but I know nothing will replace what is lost. Life goes on but my karate life is a little poorer.

At my moment of greatest disappointment I’m reminded of the Buddhist creation and subsequent destruction of beautiful, complex and labour intensive Mandalas, an ancient Tibetan Buddhist tradition involving ritual geometric patterns made from coloured sand. After careful and intensive work by three or four monks, the sand is ceremonially swept up symbolising the impermanence of all that exists.

Emotional attachment to inanimate objects is endemic in our society. There is much wisdom to be found in the sand mandala.

Karate and an Older Woman

Fliss has been a regular karate practitioner for over a year. It's not been easy and many challenges lie ahead. Here's her story.

Karate and an Older Woman

Good grief, why karate? This is something that a few people have asked me since I started practising at the beginning of last year. The glib (but sort-of true) answer that I give them is “because my neighbour got me drunk and made me do it”.  She is a Yudansha who had taken a break, was thinking of restarting, wanted someone to go with her, and suggested this late on New Year’s Eve after plying me with as much alcohol as I usually drink in a whole year. My reactions dulled by a very pleasant sparkling Moscato or three, I didn’t say no quick enough.

Being a woman of a certain age, as the saying goes, I do care about maintaining my health - I am well into that stage of my life where it is a case of ‘use it or lose it’. Furthermore, I had a period of about 10 years or so - basically the whole of my 40s and early 50s - when I was quite unwell and totally unable to exercise, to the point where, for a while, even a flight of stairs was a challenge. Having recovered from that, I am especially grateful to have regained my fitness, it is a precious thing which I do not want to lose until I have to. I’m also spurred on by the fact that my mother’s family has a very dominant Alzheimer’s gene, so all of my generation have started to look at each other and ask ourselves, with wide eyes and worried voices, ‘who’s next?’. Whilst we cannot change those genes, there is plenty of research to suggest that regular exercise, and mental chal-lenge, help to delay the onset of that cruel disease.

So - I run regularly, to keep fit and hopefully to keep the dementia demons away for a while yet at least; but sometimes I crave variety. Yup, karate could tick that box - lower impact, different mus-cles, a challenge for balance and coordination, new learning so a mental challenge too, just the job. I had learned a little bit of a couple of other martial arts (judo and kendo) in my teens and 20s, even taught some generic basic self defence in my early 30s, and enjoyed these things so, even after I had woken up on January 1st, I thought “yes why not, I’ll give it a go”.

Meanwhile, something else that happened in my 40s was a traumatic event which, although I was physically unhurt, left me with very troublesome short term memory problems. After a year or so, it became clear that these were not going away. Luckily, around the same time that it became apparent that those problems were long term, smartphones hit the market, and mine has been of great value in enabling me to function pretty much normally; the bingly-bong of my alert tones have become the soundtrack to my daily life. Work - on the iPhone, wake UP, bingly-bong. Dental appointment - on the iPhone, time to leave, bingly-bong.  Karate class (which is exactly the same time every week but I could still forget given the chance) - on the iPhone, bingly-bong. You get the idea. I just have to remember to not leave the phone on silent. If there’s something I can’t put on the phone I can usually scribble a quick note there and then, so as long as I don’t lose that scrap of paper I get by.

But - I was totally unprepared for the challenge that karate presents. Physically, yes of course. Dif-ferent moves, shapes, precision, balancing skills (hmm, the less said about that the better!), using different muscles, accommodating a dodgy middle-aged spine; all of that is difficult enough, but no surprise. The fact that I run helps, there is at least some reasonable core fitness to fall back on. But mentally ... oh, my days! Mercy! I have to remember stuff! Immediately and without making notes! Words. Moves. A sequence. Details.... Anyone who has trained with me could - quite probably through gritted teeth - vouch for the fact that I learn slowly and get muddled constantly. I am al-ways grateful for the patience and kindness of my training partners and would take this opportunity to thank each of you for that patience and support. There are just so many people in the club who are good and generous in this way, it’s wonderful. Also, Zenshin’s video tutorials have been really helpful with learning kata because I can watch them and practice nearly every day and gradually - I think - some things are starting to sink in. It’s a very, very slow process.

Sarah, Rob, Fliss

But, karate is a mirror that shows us ourselves. How true. What it has made me do is face up to just how rubbish my memory is, which is easy to forget (ahaha) with the ready availability of the gadget in my pocket. Furthermore, what really gets me is just how that makes me feel - stupid, SO flustered, and panicky. It is seriously embarrassing being so forgetful! I felt so inadequate that I nearly didn’t come back after an unavoidable spring break for work reasons. But, my neighbour chivied me along and I did return. Every time there is a new thing to learn, or else a previously-learned thing to recall (i.e. one way or another, every class), I have at least a few, and sometimes many moments when I feel those nerves kick in, and I freeze, because my mind has gone blank yet again. Occasionally I could cry with frustration because it just won’t stick. It is also a challenge insofar as that as well as feeling stupid, I do also feel like a bit of a burden, and sometimes think I should stay away so that people can train with someone who is a bit less daft. But then I get selfish and think, well it is doing me some good, so I think you may be stuck with me for a while yet.

That may not be the most obvious thing for a person to be learning at a karate class - managing a bad memory and the feelings it generates. But I think it is a massively useful lesson for me to be learning, not least because as an issue, it is not about to go away, and I hadn’t really noticed how much it was getting in my way until I started classes.

People think of karate as being about self-defence. Being able to react to a threat or danger with something other than simple panic and freezing. And yes, for sure, it can do that. But for me, it is not about reducing the panic caused by a threat. It is about reducing the panic caused by having to remember stuff. A mirror to myself.

Thanks for reading

Tales of a Blue Belt assessment

Saturday, April 8th is a date I’ve been eagerly awaiting ever since Rob first informed me that would be the date of my Blue Belt assessment back in January. This assessment is something that I’ve wanted to do for over a year and I know during that time I wasn’t exactly shy about voicing my opinion that I was ready to do it. Now that it’s finally here there’s only one word to describe how I’m feeling – terrified. I haven’t been this nervous since my University exams back in the days when Y2K was still a genuine concern.

I feel ready for the assessment, if anything I’ve taken my preparation too seriously. By nature I have quite an obsessive side to my personality and this has certainly come out in the two months leading up to my assessment. I’ve kept written logs of what lessons I’ve attended and what I’ve done in those lessons. I‘ve attended a few Blue Belt assessments before, but as anyone who has done an assessment will tell you it’s completely different when it’s your own assessment.

When it comes to doing any type of physical activity despite any nerves that I might feel I’ve always been extremely confident in my abilities. I may be terrified, but in all honesty I don’t envisage any scenario in which I don’t pass my assessment first time. Looking back now I cringe a bit at my thought process approaching that first assessment. I may have put all the hard work in physically, but as Rob has told me on a few occasions there is a lot more to Karate than just the physical. Physically I was prepared, but mentally it was a whole other story.

When the assessment starts I feel like I’m performing well and everything is going according to plan. As the assessment progresses my confidence is growing and the nerves are long gone. When it’s time for the Sanbon Kumite I can’t help but think about the Blue Belt assessment two weeks previously. After failing to pick up on Rob’s initial first attack I got punched in the face for my troubles. The nerves are now back in full force and when I get a stitch while working with Lisa, I for lack of a better term completely lose my head.

I know people have overcome far worse things than a stitch during assessments, but unfortunately my reaction to this isn’t good. I become increasingly frustrated at not being able to perform at 100%. I’m getting hit far too many times for my liking and with each hit the red mist descends a little further. I’m being countered on my third attack while I’m over reaching and off balance which is resulting in me literally stumbling seven or eight feet across the hall. I know it’s going badly, but I don’t seem to have the ability to turn it round. The Sanbon Kumite seems to go on forever and I remember thinking to myself at the time that I just want this to stop so I can get the heck home.

When it’s over I’m pretty upset as I know the Sanbon Kumite was a complete disaster. I remember various people such as Toni, Chris, Justin and Lisa trying to console me, but unfortunately it doesn’t make me feel any better. I know there’s no way that my performance during the Sanbon Kumite was good enough to meet the requirements of a Blue Belt. In fact the first thing I do when I get home is email Rob saying that I know I’ve failed the assessment and that I need to re-do it as soon as humanly possible.

At my next lesson on the following Tuesday, Phil tells me that I received a partial pass and that I need to re-do the Sanbon Kumite section of the assessment. Whilst disappointed I didn’t pass first time I’m relieved that I will only have to wait a few weeks to try again. Donna and Simon also receive partial passes so at least I won’t be doing the re-assessment on my own.

After getting my feedback from Sarah and Dave there’s a general consensus that my issue is more a mental one than a physical one. It’s something that has been an issue in my time at the club – getting frustrated when things don’t go well. I take Rob’s advice about meditation, something that I used to practice regularly and book myself onto a meditation workshop (I do listen to you occasionally Rob!). I know that I need to get my mind-set right before re-doing my assessment as it wasn’t where it needed to be the first time.

Over the next few weeks I work a lot with Dave Pope on my Sanbon Kumite and the importance of staying calm, focussed and not getting frustrated when I get hit. On the Tuesday before my second assessment Dave gives me probably the best piece of advice anyone has ever given me at the club. He tells me that he wants to see “Yoga Keith” at the assessment on Saturday. I know exactly what he means by this; the more I think about it the more I realise that I’m a very different person at Yoga to what I am at Karate. I think it’s a combination of adrenaline and the fact that Karate isn’t something that comes naturally to me. This results in my becoming frustrated when I struggle with certain aspects of Karate.

When I arrive at the dojo I’m surprised at how calm I am. I’m a little nervous, but it’s night and day from last time. When it comes to the Sanbon Kumite section I’m feeling relaxed and confident. I remember thinking ‘Yoga Keith’ right before I start the Kumite with Toni. I’m feeling a little tired when, after Nick, I have to work with Pete. I’m struggling with Pete due to his technique and the fact he is so ridiculously fast. He hits me a few times, but I resist the urge to try and hit him back. At the end I’m not sure if I’ve done enough to pass. I know that I’ve done much better than the first time, but that’s a pretty low bar to clear.

I’m told that I’ll find out the result at my next lesson which will be on Tuesday. When I arrive at the lesson I’m feeling more nervous than I was for either of my assessments. When Rob tells me to come and get my Blue Belt my initial feeling is one of overwhelming relief, soon followed by sheer joy. The fact Donna and Simon also passed really was the cherry on the cake as the three of us have spent so much time practicing and helping one another over the last three months.

Looking back on the whole process a few weeks later one thought really springs to mind. When you reach the higher grades you really do need to be a well-rounded practitioner. Previously I knew my temperament and focus weren’t the best, but I always believed that my physical abilities could make up for any mental shortcomings. The assessments showed me that if you have neglected any one area of your Karate you will be found out.

I remember a few weeks back Dave saying to me that it could work out for the best that I didn’t pass first time as it would force me to address certain issues I had with my Karate. I do believe this to be the case as I know in the last 18 months or so I had allowed a certain level of arrogance to creep into my Karate. The fact that I didn’t pass first time has humbled me a bit and made me look at certain things I was doing in more detail. I don’t think I would have had this level of self-reflection had I passed first time.

My advice for anyone doing an assessment in the future would be to not get themselves into the state I was in before my first assessment. I know it’s easier said than done, but it really does make a huge difference if you’re calm and relaxed. Also if you don’t pass first time it’s not the end of the world, as Rob said to me I wasn’t the first person this has happened to and I won’t be the last.

In saying all that though I really do hope I pass my next assessment first time!