Last Wednesday was the first day of the Summer Seminar lead by Nobuo Hirakawa(8K) with the presence of Otsubo(7K) sensei and Kashiwagi(7K) sensei, as well as a some of the (many!) Belgian 7K teachers.

The first 30 minutes were a nightmare for me, not because of the content of the drills, but I believe entirely because of the anxiety of the exam that’s going to take place on Sunday :

I was tense, I wasn’t in the groove, in my usual mood with my own body. Three different 7K senseis stopped multiple times to show me some basic stuff for my level (such as kamae, hikitsuke, striking). One of them stopped three times by me and it made me feel really embarrassed that I couldn’t easily apply what he said. Stress makes me lose all my composure, it’s horrible.

The sensei I consider to be my teacher, the 7K with whom I “click” most, didn’t come though I could see through the mengane that he had that “what the hell are you doing?” expression locked on his face.

Each time Hirakawa sensei showed a new drill, I was trying to talk myself into calming down. Letting go. Finding my pace. Unfortunately, I think the partner I was with didn’t help much with that. It was an older man with not much stamina or mobility and a lot of my distance and timing expectations were absolutely off.

I started recovering when, after the man had to bail out because of his stamina issues and I found myself in a group of three with a high-kyu/low-dan younger student and a 5th dan. But even then I was still a hot mess for at least 20 minutes before being able to perform more suitably.

When jigeiko started, I felt better, and thankfully I met my sensei while rotating and he looked satisfied. By then, I felt like my normal-self was back in the pilot’s seat. I also encountered the 2016 EU champion (Kensaku Maemoto) during one of the rotations. Of all 5-6 jigeiko I had that night, the one against my teacher and Kensaku were the most fulfilling (alongside another against a first-dan (ish) lady against whom I was the one doing hikitate)

I think that it’s the vocabulary. The willingness to speak the same language, of exchanging something valuable and pleasant despite the obvious differences in proficiency.

Needless to say that without the jigeiko to restore some self-confidence, I would currently be in despair in the face of the task of taking the 4th dan exam. My teacher’s comment after training also helped.

“You’re doing what you should do, keep going” he said.

I replied that sometimes it doesn’t work at all and he answered : “Don’t mind if it works or not with everybody, keep doing what you should be doing, that’s the most important” (meaning : continue with the good posture, going in earnestly, pressuring, reacting, trying to create a dialog)

I still will attend one more day of seminar before the grading attempt, and hopefully this training session will be less rocky.

It sure makes me think a lot about the road, the process.

One thing seems obvious, if I do pass, I won’t feel like I’ve really attained the rank after some time into it. I’ve had the same with the last grade I passed : it took me at least a year to develop the attitude you’d expect of a third dan.

Shisei wo tadasu — Correct your posture
Kokyu wo tadasu — Correct your breathing
Kokoro wo tadasu — Correct your heart.

(uttered by Hirakawa sensei at every post-training mokuso)

Yondan, so close, yet so far.

I know what is asked of me.
Can I make it happen is the question.

Question I will have to ask my two designated sparring partners.
With a kakegoe, with a seme, with a couple decisive strikes.

I might fail, maybe twice, maybe even more than that.
But I’ve got to keep asking the question.

“I’m here, what’ve you got?”

—

During the summer I only participated in a handful training sessions. One in a small, remote dojo where I went alongside the federation’s president, another time in a bigger dojo that had quite a few 7K senseis attending. And a last one in a medium sized dojo with a late-4th dan senpai leading the training. Three different moods but all brought a bit of light and confidence towards my 4th dan attempt that will take place at the end of this week.

But stress is definitely there even though it won’t be the end of the world if I fail. Weirdly enough, I’m not too concerned about the bouts (just a little) mainly because I feel like for third dan, I didn’t exactly know what to do beside of “look strong and determined and hit well”. This time around I’m imagining myself creeping into the distance, applying pressure, reacting. Those concepts are not vague anymore. Still difficult to pull off at times, but the concept is grasped.

No, what I find myself wanting to nail is the Reigi, having an outward appearance and behaviour that will already make a good impression. Wearing the keikogi neatly, going into sonkyo strongly, setting the tone for the encounter right as I enter the shiaijo. Convincing the crowd, aite, and myself, if you will.

I know I can pressure, I know I can launch successful debana waza, even if I feel like I haven’t got the broadest vocabulary out there, I still can rely a lot on basics that I get right, but yeah, I need to show that I mean business and that I’m not going to mindlessly throw attacks.

I know that’s exactly where I’m at in my kendo but it might take a few times to convince a panel, and statistically, with a pass-rate just below 50%, that’s a pretty valid feeling.

As the shinsa gets closer, talking, writing or thinking too hard about it makes my innards start to rumble. The anxiety is real. But as Sensei says : “When there’s a shinsa opportunity, you go, whatever the outcome may be. It’s part of the process”.

Anyway, before the attempt, I’ll attend two nights of the All Belgian Kendo Federation Summer Seminar lead by Hirakawa Nobuo who’s always accompanied by a host of Japanese senseis. I hope I’ll get from it what I need to keep my cool through the shinsa on sunday, though the die has been cast a long time ago and it’s too late to do anything about it now…

So, let’s go!