We were three and we worked well.

image

I gave my little idea a try (basing a lesson on jigeiko observations) and it certainly can prove useful, especially when the group is homogenous vis-à-vis the rank level.

After the first rounds of jigeiko, I asked what were their difficulties and few problems were noted :

  • Distance problem : feeling of not being where they should be
  • Linked to that : difficulty of withdrawing from chikama properly, or not wanting to withdraw for fear of being hit.
  • Problems dealing with opponents who are blocking too much

My own observations were that the few first jigeiko bouts were fine but quickly got twisted by “I don’t want to get hit” thoughts, resulting in bad form and general tenseness.

The first concept I tackled was about withdrawing from an unsuccessful attack or unsuccessful seme. It was apparent that their thoughts when going backwards were not focused on the opponent and were neither thinking about attacking nor being ready to react to being attacked.

The drill I asked them to do to foster correct withdrawing :

  • Kakarite : Men, tai atari and goes into tsubazeriai.
  • Both : withdraw carefully, tip in the center, focused but without being tense in their bodies or kamae
  • Motodachi : suddenly attacks men once issoku itto no maai is reached
  • Kakarite : Performs oji-waza of their choosing (or debana waza)

Although ideally, once both practitioners start to withdraw, they should return to to-ma, you have to learn to expect attacks and also be able to seize opportunities. The goal of this drill is to feel confident enough to retreat with correct zanshin and attitude while also developing the ability to spot weaknesses and exploit them.

The difficulties they faced during this drill was that they had a hard time withdrawing in a relaxed natural manner knowing they had to attack or were about to be attacked. Some timing was off also (kakarite would counter-attack before motodachi’s move), because of the anticipation.

I remember trying to convey the idea that one should be relaxed at all times while also being ready at all times. Initiating waza should be done only when there is opportunity (in this case, when motodachi starts their attack).

Drills to deal with blockers :

  • Kakarite : seme towards men
  • Motodachi : raises arms and protects their men
  • Kakarite : attacks kote
  • Kakarite : seme towards men
  • Motodachi : sanpo mamori (protecting men, kote and migi-do)
  • Kakarite : responds with gyaku (hidari) do.

All of this has to infuse into their kendo, it will require time, but definitely brains seemed to have been working hard during this training session.

Before wrapping up, I reminded them of how kyusha are asked to perform shikake waza mindlessly to allow their bodies to acquire correct moves. The phase they are in as 1st/2nd dan means they have to start thinking and observing what is going on and learn to recognise opportunities to start seizing them by selecting the correct answer in their kendo vocabularies, which they need to build up, as well.

“And that’s the plan for the coming year!”

Alternate approach

I’ve been thinking of an other approach lately and if there are enough bogu around tonight, I’ll give it a try :

I’m thinking about putting Jigeiko earlier in practice (at say, 1/3rd of training session) and use that to be able to build lesson content on the go, starting from bad habits I will witness, in a stated effort to root those out and help them act on jigeiko feedback they receive on the same day, instead of at the next training sessions, when the feelings and memories will have faded.

The menu for a 1:30 practice would be : 15 minutes kata followed by a quick warmup (with men strikes, menkirikaeshi & uchikomigeiko). After that, men wo tsuke and jumping directly into jigeiko.

Then feedback and exercices aimed at correcting the most urgent jigeiko flaws, then short kakarigeiko and final jigeiko +final men kirikaeshi.

Yesterday’s training : 4 bogu +1beginner.

For the contents of the training session,

I’m really trying to have my yudansha to switch their mindsets. It’s still much too automatic. They’re just doing what they’re told without thinking about how focusing on kihon is actually helping them build the skills to become better kendoists beside the obvious repetition of basic techniques.

I first started with some sleeping-motodachi scolding. Letting them know that you have to approach the role of motodachi from the “I’m working on my attitude and my reflexes” angle rather than just resting while you get hit.

That’s a big no-no if only for the disrespect towards kakarite who’s trying to work seriously.

For instance, while receiving the yokomen strikes in menkirikaeshi, the finger-work of motodachi when they absorb the received strikes with their shinai should be an opportunity to think : “this I can use in some kamae-opening techniques and also some deflections”.

After getting their attention on motodachi’s role, I moved on to the idea of seme with basic small-kote strikes done from under the opponents shinai : dropping the tip towards the opponent’s lower tsuba while moving the body towards a kote strike is actually very close to seme, if you put the right attitude into it.

I asked them to stop just rushing into the strike without knowing if there is an opportunity or not. Yes, even during kihon practice. Being 1st or 2nd dan means you got to take a journey towards awareness and mindfulness of strike opportunities and of your opponent in general.

From issoku itto no maai, pushing on the left foot and creeping in with the right foot while threatening low is a real seme and it is not because we are doing small-kote strikes in this particular drill, that you should not observe your opponent’s reaction. You might have to decide to go for men instead, or to come back to kamae if aite remains strong.

One misses the point of kihon if one does not do them with the skills they have to acquire in mind, and what needs to be acquired at their level is the ability to notice opportunities (being able to consistently seize them is another matter).

The last part of the training session had us work on some oji waza against kote. Motodachi made strikes in the same way as previous drills : applying pressure and then going for sharp small-kote strikes.

Kakarite responded with small-suriage men and kaeshi-men. Aside from getting familiarised with the hand movements, I wanted them to understand two important things :

  1. Going forward. It’s about attitude and posture : stay strong in the face of aggression, do not break. But there is also a practical use to that idea : if you don’t execute your oji waza properly, there is still a good chance of deflecting the hit if you extend your arms slightly and move forward, as you’ll break the attacker’s intent and shift the distance.
  2. While executing any (small) waza, always go for the minimum amount of movements with your shinai tip. Ideally the tip of the shinai never ever shifts away from the target (in this case, the opponent’s men). From my years at the local (western) Fencing club, this is what my Maître d’Armes called “working small” or “working within a 5 francs coin” (yeah I did Fencing before the Euro rolled-in) but the same idea applies to kendo. If the tip becomes non-threatening, you put yourself at risk, plus it will take you more time to come back in order to strike.

Additionally,

I tried to open the minds of the practitioners on the receiving-end of the kote strike : the goal of this kihon is not just that kakarite receives a kote-strike to perform ojiwaza, but it also can go further and be that kakarite puts pressure on motodachi, forcing them to attack their kote, which is a wildly different dynamic. You know that kote is coming, so your oji waza becomes deliberate and thus, stronger and easier.

 

I’ll think this will be my leitmotiv for this season. Trying to get them into new mental places about how they practice…

 

There’s a long road ahead of them.
It’s alright, they have all the time in the world.

image

The dojo makes the dojo leader, and vice-versa.

Yesterday’s training was slightly disappointing at first. The regulars all bailed on me. I only had one non-bogu (but smurf-attire) beginner and a 1st dan who recently moved to our town and it was his 2nd training with us. I wasn’t happy about the image it showed of our small dojo.

In the end, I took on me to be motodachi in full bogu despite my wound. I could manage it. I actually feel like going full blast, my wound being so specific, I wouldn’t be able to tell if I made things worse until it was too late. 

All three of us were drenched at the end of the session and even though the newcomer had enjoyed the session, I still apologised for the low number of practitioners. I’ll have to write a little “sensei” rant in the facebook group later. 

Not about all of my members, the “core-est of the core” had warned me in advance. Working schedules etc, but there are three bogu I haven’t seen yet since season began and I’m gonna have to reach out to those specifically.

Such is the life of small 10-15 members-strong dojos : 

As a dojo leader, you are constantly running behind everyone to see if a practice will be worthwhile (4 present, out of which 3 bogu, myself included, is usually what I consider a minimum to have an ok-time).

Then there is the aspect of the atmosphere you create in a dojo. I believe that kendo has to be friendly, and for everyone to explore at their own pace, providing they can deal with the feelings that come with slow-progression and more specifically, feelings that come with seeing those who want more and therefore give more, surpass you in a heartbeat. 

Walking the fine line between friendliness and martial-arts discipline (not to be confused with authoritarianism) and staying close to your members to keep them engaged is the lot of small-dojo leaders and I’ve fully embraced that.

Bigger dojos often mean that beginners are often nobodies and, treated as such. It also means that there will always be enough bogu for training sessions to unfold normally. Therefore leaders of bigger dojos will be more encline to ignore the individualities of its members (until they’ve been around long enough at least).

Bigger dojos have a kendo culture and enforce it without a thought, whether that culture fosters member engagement or proves detrimental to it. “Oh that one wasn’t cut for kendo” in any dojo it’s something that’s often heard, but I suspect bigger dojo to just shrug it off while smaller dojos recognise it is vital to have a strategy. A couple memberships can mean that you can keep the dojo open for an extra year or have to close doors, after all.

I have made of that necessity a sort of virtue throughout the years. With lots of trial and error : ”this is too lax, wait, too rigid, no, too personal and friendly, ouch, too cold…” but now I’ve reached some ideal balance that I only have to fine tune depending on who’s present.

Learning to know the motivations of your members is key to give them what they want out of kendo, is key to knowing where there limits are and how much beyond those they are comfortable to go. “I’m just here to have a good time”, “I want the martial art / discipline aspect” “I want to feel exhausted beyond words”. All of that has to be taken into account, individually.  

Whenever someone joins, I clearly show that I am interested in their expectations and am open to feedback. The worst I could do is to try to be as hard and unforgiving as an 80-member strong dojo. I’ve seen it happen in other small dojos and it is a very high risk course of action to take.

Even though there are some exceptions and definitely, some bigger dojos have a similar individualistic approach, the comfort of having a lot of members just makes this kind of investment in the interpersonal aspect of dojo life much less prevalent. 

What do you think? What are your experiences in dojo life, pleasant or unpleasant? Did you ever feel like you were pushed over your boundaries. Not just kendo-wise but maybe on an every-day level?

Tonight is going to be the third training of season 2018-2019.
My wound is starting to close up but still looks ugly.

Now is not the time to be careless :
I still can’t train and I’ve got to stick to that.

For the past 6 months a change has been started in my kendo, as some concepts start not only to dawn on me, but I can start feeling how to apply them to jigeiko.

However, I feel like I’ve made the most progress while being on summer break, oddly enough. Perhaps it is the fact that not practicing allows the mind to focus and process certain aspects with a bit of critical distance so that when you get back into practice, a change has taken place on its own.

I feel like when I’ll finally be able to start again, I’ll be encountering a lot of new sensations. I’m paving the way for 4th dan and I think my body and mind are working as one towards the various objectives that need to be met in order to succeed at shinsa.

Time will tell.

The season opened yesterday night, 
and despite the hole in my belly, I lead the training. 

Even though all I did was walking about the dojo watching the dojo members’ form with a judging eye, I still felt the warmth of the room that is located in the roof section of the sports hall. I was sweating although I wasn’t doing anything.

I still couldn’t help myself and had to show a few techniques. Not full blast, but “relaxed”. They still were correct and full of intent so I really tried not to do it too often / too hard. I hope these few exceptions won’t compromise my recovery.

I’m pleased with the progress our core members did in the past year. It really shows in their kendo, even after a summer break. As a reward / carrot of sorts for the coming season I’ve tried to break down the mechanics of one form of seme. The one that leads to debana waza (kote or men). 

Andy Fisher’s video on the subject was a great material for me to prepare that training session and make sure they would understand.

The practitioner core of the dojo are 1st and 2nd dan. A moment where they would be tempted to compromise form to gain speed and power, making their techniques and form imprecise and warped. 

That’s what I call greedy practice (picture an old man curved on himself clinging to his shinai as if it was his last prized possession). It comes from the desire not being hit or to hit first or to hit even if you weren’t ready or all of those combined.

I told them that it is paramount for the coming year to focus on form and freedom of and during movement. It is necessary to stand tall and attack with powerful foot work and relaxed minds and arms : their progression comes at the condition of their integration of a generous practice (picture someone moving in to hug a long-time friend with arms wide open).

“Do not care about being hit. Simply distribute your men attacks like you would distribute hugs. Smile. Enjoy yourselves. Seme with your feet, attack with your feet. React to what aite is doing, react to what you are making aite do.” I said. “Pressure, pressure, release tension, push on your foot, debana men, small technique, wide feeling, shoulders low and back, smile, feel like your attack is an nicely wrapped gift.”

I don’t have better words yet to describe this state of mind of positive kendo.

But I feel like they took this carrot. Their jigeiko were really nice to look at and I coulnd’t help but feeling a bit proud. 

“This is stuff for 3rd dan” I told them. “but correct and effortless form are the necessary basics required to assimilate the waza correctly and thinking “generous kendo” is one of the mental tricks to get there.”

We’ll see how it goes. 
They don’t need to know that I’m winging most of it.

I’m just telling them how I understand some concepts in as many different ways as possible to try to reach all of them. 

Throughout my short time as dojo leader I found that using a lot of imagery and visual metaphors helps a lot.