Category Archives: ideas
What is Shibumi / Shibusa / Shibui ?
The person of shibusa modesty exalts excellence via a thoroughness of taking time to learn, watch, read, understand, develop, think, and merges into understatement and silence concerning oneself. Shibusa’s sanctuary of silence, non-dualism–the resolution of opposites, is intuition coupled with beauty and faith as foundations for phases of truth revealing the worship and reverence for life.
Pushing the limits
It was ten, then twenty, then thirty. It kept increasing by ten until we had hit one hundred push ups at one time. At some point I lost feeling in my arms, but I kept going. When the class was finally over I realized several things;
Our Dojo Kun
Sensei Orlando
Training with pain
The first thing I discovered when I started training in a martial art is that knuckle push ups hurt. I distinctly remember the hardwood floor, forming two fists and trying to place my body weight on those very tender knuckles. That was my first introduction to pain in the martial arts. Surprisingly its not part of what is shared when a prospective student walks in the door (probably for fear of scaring the student away). You will hear that you will become stronger, develop discipline, attain focus and flexibility.
Progress not perfection
“It takes a thousand days to make a fist, a thousand days to learn a stance and a thousand days to learn to strike”. Its possible this saying isn’t shared by many martial artists, nevertheless its important to understand what is meant by this saying. You don’t hear this shared in many schools because it can be disheartening to the western mindset of ” I need everything yesterday”. If you listen closely and are fortunate enough to be in a school where this philosophy prevails you will hear it in every class, in one form or another. I have to admit that if someone told me at the beginning of my training that it would take over three years just to learn how to make a fist, I may have seriously reconsidered the whole endeavor. It is the kind of lesson that is self affirming. By that I mean you understand it to be true after you have realized that it took you a thousand days to learn how to make a fist.
Many paths – One way
My style is better than your style. Another variation of this, is my version of said style is better than your version of the same style. What this ultimately leads to is a demonstration of ego in what should be an egoless expression. Where does this sentiment stem from? Usually from those martial artists, who are starting upon the path and get caught up in the excitement of beginning something new and exotic. Inevitably it leads to comparison and criticism.
Being Connected
I recently was walking down the street when I observed a small group of teenagers. As they walked down the street they each had their handheld devices and were actively texting-each other. It drove home how reliant we have become on technology for communication and connection. For example, we no longer hand write letters we just text or send emails. Even though I was born before the invention of both the cell phone and Internet, I am by no means a Luddite. In many cases I have been an early adopter of technology that makes our lives easier. And while the world has grown considerably smaller and we can now remain connected globally, it seems we are remaining connected in an age of disconnected interaction.
This highlights the importance of practicing martial arts in such an age even though it may seem anachronistic. It is important to be in a tech free environment like a dojo, on a regular basis. Its important to have actual interactions,where social skills and the art of conversation and dialogue are required. Its important to connect to others on differing levels as you train together. Practicing a martial art also puts you in touch with history. In many cases, the art you are practicing is decades if not centuries old. It is transformative to be a living part of history. It makes me realize that I am part of a group of people who felt that the art I am practicing was worth preserving. That there were many before me and if I am diligent in the transmitting of what I have learned, there will be many after me.
This is what it means to be truly connected, to be part of something that is larger than you. To be the catalyst of transformation for others, one at a time. There are many times we don’t see the scale of what we are doing and how many people we have impacted until way after the fact. In many cases we may not see the entire scope because it can transcend our lifetime. However, it is important for us, in our quest to be connected that we not lose sight of daring to take on those endeavors that are larger than us, than any one person. Immersed this way we can always remain connected.
strong spirit-strong mind-strong body
Sensei Orlando
Reverting to Simplicity
I was walking down the sidewalk with my youngest son when he taught me a wonderful lesson. I was occupied in getting to our destination when he stopped. It was fall and the sidewalk was inundated with fallen leaves. He looked down at the multitude of leaves surrounding him, bent down and picked up two. One for me and one for his mommy. I asked him why he didn’t pick one for himself, and he showed me his pocket, which contained an assortment of leaves, acorns and other assorted “treasures”. Evidently he was much wealthier than I in the leaf department. What I learned from this seemingly innocent exchange is that I (like many of us) can get caught up in all the “extras” of life and overlook the simple treasures that surround us.
Some of the greatest pleasures in life are the simplest, a good book vs. one thousand channels. Water over the next super powered drink. Taking a walk as opposed to driving everywhere. The list is quite extensive. We have managed to surround ourselves with so much that we can literally be in a cocoon from life. How many of us have sat down next to our spouses or partners, watched a movie, but not actually speak with each other? In the larger scheme of things which would you weigh as more important, the movie or a great conversation with the person you have chosen to spend your life with.
Yet each day we are constantly rushing and moving towards, always towards something. So much so that we lose the moment we are in. In our training we have to, by nature of the training embrace the simple. Initially we learn the basics and it seems like a daunting task. After the basics are learned, the more advanced techniques are taught, what students learn is that the advanced techniques are built upon the basic simple ones. You must always revert to simplicity.
In our lives this is a worthwhile pursuit, instead of making our lives about the attainment of material things; let’s pare down what exists so we can appreciate the intangibles.
It is now winter, and there are no leaves on the sidewalk, but I still appreciate the one my son stopped to collect so that I can have a reminder to do the same- stop every so often and let loose my sense of wonder.
Live simply.
strong spirit-strong mind-strong body
Sensei Orlando
Why wear a gi?
A few months ago I was a teaching a children’s class when a comment was made to me. The context for the comment was regarding the expediency of getting the children dressed quickly to maximize their training time. The comment went something like “They don’t really need to dress in their uniforms, I mean I know it looks cool, but it’s taking long and it’s not about looks.” I’m paraphrasing and recalling to the best of my ability. At the time, I didn’t lend the statement much weight (I was trying to get a large class in limited time), but the comment stayed with me for some reason. I started to go over why we wear Dogi or Gi for short.
I researched the history of the gi and found that it had originated with judo founder Jigoro Kano, in addition to a multitude of facts. Everything I found still didn’t answer the fundamental question as to why we wear these items of clothing. Was it tradition? What about all the arts that now sport many different colored gi? Are they somehow inferior because they have opted to wear a different color? To this day, I have not found the ability of any martial art practitioner to be contained in the gi, white or otherwise.
So why wear it?
Part of it is tradition; I enjoy wearing a simple white gi. Notwithstanding all the symbolism about white being a color of purity, I have always preferred a white gi. In practical terms, it’s not actually the best color if you are engaged in hard training that involves blood and sweat. It requires another level of diligence on the part of the student in terms of your training – hygiene (no one enjoys training next to an unwashed gi for long).
The other part is that it is unpretentious and I really prefer simplicity. It took some time, but I came to an answer that satisfied my question. As I observed classes filled with students wearing their gi, I found that on the dojo floor we are all the same. When we don a gi we are leaving the outside world, outside. In a very real sense, it’s a ritual we perform when we put on our gi. We are preparing to face ourselves, our shortcomings, insecurities, faults and strengths. It is a physical act that prepares us for a mental shift. I have witnessed the transformation that occurs when a beginner dons a uniform. They may feel uncertain and unsure initially, but they are dressed the same way everyone else is with no difference, and over a short time are comfortable with the multitude of techniques they are being exposed to. The actual word dogi means “way clothes” and it’s what we wear on the path to self perfection.
In regards to the variety of colors and hues now available for gi, I have always felt that changing the uniform severs our links to the time and culture in which our arts were founded. From what I have seen and what has been shared with me, the norm in most Japanese dojos is austere and simple. You don’t see walls covered in trophies, flags, posters or other distractions. I personally find the gi with the flash and multitude of patches to be garish and uncalled for. Let your techniques and bearing speak for you, not your gi.
The gi we wear is a symbol of unity. On the dojo floor, there is no status – only rank. We all train together, sweat together and grow together, irrespective of how much or how little we make, what we do or do not own, or what position we may have in our jobs or careers. On the dojo floor we all share the common trait of the pursuit of self perfection. One of my senior students shared a profound insight with me recently – The dojo is one of the only places where you can just be. Much of that freedom is provided by wearing a garment that initially, appears to suppress your individuality. What you discover over time, is that free from the constraints of external expression you are capable of a deeper form of expression that is not dependent on what you are wearing.
Now when I’m asked by a prospective student “Do I have to train in a uniform?” My simple answer is-yes, you do.
strong spirit-strong mind-strong body
Sensei Orlando