Heart

I’m sad. No superlatives. Just sad. Last week, I got a phone call from one and an email from another to tell me that my dear friend Greg DIlley is gone. Greg is a regular contributor on Fraught With Peril, a sounding board for Nichiren Buddhism, where he kept a blog, Confessions of a Nichiren Buddhist Ninja. I met him the first year I was training here in Tokyo, 2003, and he made regular trips to train here at the source. He has counselled and befriended me and been a joy to be around when he was here, and a great correspondent when he was home in California. I got to train with him there twice when I was on visits there, along with his Wako Dojo students and friends.

I’m thinking, I want to honour him in a way he’d dig. I’ll be on the mat this week. And living and being with the people around me.

Now, for a bit of music - the Heart Sutra set to music with a lot of Buddhist iconography. Greg’s essentially Mahayana, so maybe he’d tolerate this.

Receiving

The image in the banner, taken at the plaza in front of 東京武道館 Tokyo Budokan,  was donated  by Y sensei who is quickly becoming a digital camera adept. I’ve always loved the jagged edges and the strange sightlines and split levels in this building. Walking through so many passages and hallways which look down onto other parts of the building makes me wonder who is peering at me from around a corner.

Last night’s training included some kyusho that left Sensei’s ukes looking limp as ragdolls. I watched Sensei do this kyusho on S-sempai who had all the will of a cat caught by the neck. Sensei doesn’t often put a technique on me unless I ask, me being rather low on the uke roster, but last night he waved me over. I feigned shrinking away, submitted and he laughed and applied his hands to my shoulders. One moment, I wanted to resist receiving this tortuous feeling, and the next moment, my curiousity made me take his invitation.

Sometimes I have an inkling of what he’s doing, and I’m (audacious enough to) want to confirm it with him; other times, I know I don’t understand and want to experience what he’s doing, what exactly that “invisible” technique is about. And this one time, I just didn’t want to receive the knowledge at first, but I stopped resisting.

間 Ma and ケーワイ KY

Last night, the Smiling Assassin brought back some nuggets from Tuesday night’s training with Soke. He talked about 間, ma meaning interval, and how you have to manipulate the interval yourself by changing the timing. Not by being faster than the other guy, but by manipulating the space through your footwork, and drawing your opponent’s attention. There is nothing new here, but perhaps, with turn after turn, the way to make this effective and efficient gets clearer. It is to be hoped.

Sensei talked to me about KY a bit last night. This is an aspect of life, Japanese, budo and otherwise, that I need to work on. So many slang phrases and words that Japanese teenagers use soon trickle into general usage. ケ－ワイ KY, the abbreviation of 空気読めない kuuki yomenai, meaning ‘read the atmosphere’, is one such frequently used expression. Sometimes, people do or say things for reasons you can’t fathom. Sometimes they say something very subtly and indirectly, and it is up to you to figure out what they mean. When you don’t get it, that’s KY.

I’ve made mistakes with this before. There are those moments in the day when someone says something obliquely, and much later, I have an aha! moment when I realize what the person was trying to tell me.

I realize that I, too, sometimes say things indirectly or not at all and expect the other person to read the air to figure out what I mean. If you ask me a question, and I don’t answer, the answer is probably no. This is typical of Japanese culture, but it’s also something that coincides with my own way of communicating.

It gets more complicated for actions. I did something to appease and make ammends to one person, and another person who doesn’t understand the situation thought I had offended him. Such is KY.

Soke has talked about KY in the dojo not a few times already this year. Can you read the atmosphere he creates, or that the dojo as a group creates? What’s really going on? What are you being asked to do? What openings are you being given to either shine or look foolish?

I can’t say I know, as I’m just as KY as the next guy.

The dojo at the end of the world

This morning, Mr. Gray was busy at work, and ML was away, so that left me, Jrock and Swedish D to train with our Men in Gray regulars. We each brought some ‘homework’ from Soke’s Tuesday and Friday night trainings, and from Shiraishi sensei’s midweek trainings. J, D and I took it in turns to demo movement, and T and I took turns at interpreting English to Japanese after we presented techniques.

Welcome back to Jrock, who is visiting from Canada after a few years away from Japan.

On Tuesday night, Soke was out there in space, showing us amazing things, difficult things, things that were hard to grasp. Sometimes I think he’s out there on the edge of the world, the edge of understanding, bringing back stuff for us to see and do that we have the potential to someday get, but struggle with today. He just dances out there, artless, elegant. Inspiring.

It’s a rainy night in Kashiwa, and I’m listening to Fantastic Plastic Machine…Here’s another musical interlude.

虹 Rainbow

I’m overstimulated from work, intense friendships, things I’m reading, spring, the explosion of greenery in Tokyo. So I sought out some music that says what I can’t at the moment. So here is 電気グルーブ for your enjoyment. 繰返して！

Principles

Lately, Sensei has mentioned 極意, gokui, which means essential points. When I heard him say gokui, I mistook the first syllable for 五, go meaning five, which led me to back to the five principles of the Bujinkan guidelines. These five principles tell us who is welcome in the dojo, how to behave properly, and what we are to learn there. These were a gift to us from Takamatsu Sensei:

 

武神館の伝統は自然や人類の生命の普遍性を示すものであり、そこに存在する自然的奇律を悟って武風一貫するものである。

体術の極意は平和の基礎とぞ知れ

学べば不動心の道にありける

道場訓

一．      忍耐は、まず一服の間とぞ知れ

二．      人の道は、正義なりと知れ

三．      大欲と楽と依怙（たよること）の心を忘れよ

四．      悲しみも恨みも自然の定めと思い、唯不動心の悟りを得べし

五．      心常に忠孝の道を離れず、深く文武に志すべし

右、五定を守ること、道場の規定なり。

 

Here is my translation of the above words:

 

The Bujinkan tradition shows us the nature of human life. This tradition endeavours to integrate the natural laws and the ways of the warrior.
The essential points of taijutsu are to learn to preserve peace and safety and to understand the way of the immoveable heart.

The Dojo Code
1. Know that patience is the first principle.

2. Know that the path of a human being is based on justice.

3. Let go of avarice, indolence and prejudice.

4. Sadness and regret are natural parts of life; make your heart immoveable.

5. Do not stray from the path of loyalty to family and dojo, and study the warrior and literary arts.

 

These five principles are important, but there were five others Sensei has been  referring to lately. At Ayase on Tuesday, I confirmed with one of the Shihan that Sensei was in fact reciting this poem, the 悟宝, Goshou:

 

不滅の不施    Everlasting giving

真道の持戒　　Vow of the true way

自然の忍にく   Natural resolve

自然の超越     Transcendance of nature

光明の悟り　　Illumination of the awakening

神伝不動流     Shin Den Fudo Ryu 

 

The two sets of principles come from two extraordinary people whose lives demonstrate these ideas, living budo

 

It’s tough to follow in these people’s paths, step for step, but because they could, I’ve got hope that maybe I can.

Developments

I’ve been reading Women in the Martial Arts by Carol Wiley. What she says in the first line of the introduction is, “The value of the martial arts is not in the perfectly executed front kick or hip throw; the value is in how people use the training to develop themselves.”

What am I developing? First, because my context is Japan, I’m developing my understanding of the majority Japanese culture and the subculture of budo through my interaction with my dojo mates in both English and Japanese.

In terms of physical development, I’m learning to appreciate my own body as it changes with training and time, and how my body can move. I’m in pretty good shape, but I’m no athelete; I can run and haul a load on my back and climb mountains. This week, I started jogging, and at the end of the week, I get my new ride, a really cool street bike that will be my best friend in Golden Week. This will develop my wrench hand, too, learning to assemble it.

And a big part of my development is mental stuff, I believe. Any body can move, but not everyone can break down the fixed notions that prevent them from being free without guidance, training, perseverance and belief. Notions about one’s gender, size, physical prowess, ability, age, handicaps, and reputation, not to mention the other guy’s variables are gremlins in the physical training. I’ve been prey to all these demons when training, and some days I beat them back, and some days they beat me.

Do I cry about it? No. Soke tells us to have a light feeling, to be zero. The Smiling Assassin tells us to smile because, he says, when you smile, you trigger a physiological change, namely a more positive feeling, and can alter your experience of the moment, and how people react to you.

Slow life, slow food, slow budo

When I left Vancouver Saturday, enormous, fluffy snowflakes were falling onto the open cherry blossoms.

The trip to Vancouver was mostly a family visit. I stayed with my lovely  Oma (German vernacular for grandma), and reconnected with my step sisters and their children.

On the day I arrived in Vancouver, in solidarity with all you buyu who train the day you land in Japan, I joined the Amebushi Dojo at Trout Lake on Vancouver’s East Side. A tight group of dedicated people with B sempai get out there in the park in all weather, and that evening’s training looked more like mud wrestling than budo taijutsu.

On the weekend, I caught up with my friend and sometime roommate DL for breakfast at Bon’s Off Broadway  for a leisurely breakfast and a catch-up about intentional community and co-housing. DL and many friends are planning to develop and live a co-housing arrangement somewhere in southern British Columbia. On my side, I’ve been researching about alternatives in Japan, including a cooperative housing building in Tokyo. I’m imagining that, if I settle here permanently, I would live in a community that I can share my labour, skills and good will. As it is, I feel a little bit more a part of the local community I live in, and anticipate volunteering a bit this year. This is something I like to do in order to give back when people have been so generous with me.

After breakfast, DL and I trained with the Choy Lai Fut Martial Arts Hall , a southern form of Kung Fu, in the neighbouring city of Richmond. Sifu C led a dynamic, fun, intense training, and the first set of forms were presented as drills to get us revved up and worked out. After, she put each student to work on a few forms, and even gave me two forms to feel and figure out. The school does lion dance and drumming, too, and has appeared in festivals in Vancouver. The movement made my back and hips feel really relaxed and free.

For lunch, we were joined by Sifu H and many of the students who are training. I really liked the feeling of the dojo - these are two grounded, fun, committed women who are passing on their martial style to students who are also dedicated and spirited. In conversation with Sifu H, we found a lot of common ground between our experiences in martial training. Like me, she got very positive messages from her teacher, was told that heart and guts meant more than fighting, and that this martial training was for the rest of her life. Her Sifu passed away last year at an advanced age, but she talks like he’s right with her.

The next day, I joined the Ame Bushi, the Rain Warriors, again at Trout Lake. B sempai and I worked on some ideas I brought with me. It was a treat to be able to give some of this stuff, however incomplete my understanding of the shape of Togakure Ryu, to B who beat on the shapes and challenged me to find out how the waza work. B pulled out the camera and shot some video which turned out to be very valuable. Although my movement felt easy and flowing, I could clearly see where I could improve on my rotation through the spine and with footwork, and cleaned it up.

It was like a purging of ideas, too. B allowed me to just keep moving, no expectation of particular ideas, just keep going, no grab, no power, but no fixed idea of form. Things just came out slowly, and we could pick one and putter with it.

 In the last few days of my visit, I got to make dinner with my Oma. I made her okonomiyaki and she got hooked! It’s a very easy, healthy meal to make. Later, I made miso soup and chahan, which is Japanese style fried rice. I only ate out three times in 10 days, and really took time to cook and savour foods from home. I’m hoping to cook at home and keep up my bento making. I’m hoping to make healthful, tasty food this year, inspired by my Oma and Japanese cooking.

Harmonies

On Tuesday night, Sensei talked a little bit about no-fight and about harmony. He said sometimes, the way you move puts you in danger’s way. He was showing us not to grip, not to take your opponent, and this loose space lets you move anywhere you want to go. He mentioned the earth’s revolution on its axis and orbit around the sun, and these are things you need to take into account for own orbit.　He mentioned 玉虎, gyokko, which means sphere and tiger.

His talk brought to mind the ancient western concept of the music of the spheres, the idea that the intervals between celestial bodies create a music not audible to the human ear. There was also the music of man, the harmony produced within the human body. This led me to look up Pythagoras, the first person to describe the frequency ratio of the octave. Pythagoras associated a quantity - the ratio and intervals of a stopped and unstopped string - with the tonal quality produced. In the pursuit of spirit and and desire to understand celestial harmony, he applied rational, scientific means.

Lon Milo Duquette, western hermeticist and musician, said in a lecture that each of us are celestial bodies, making our way in our orbits, and that we create harmony when, through the way we live, we avoid smacking into or hindering other bodies, allowing ourselves and others to move freely in the appropriate paths.

Takuan Soho in his work, 不動智神妙録, translated as The Unfettered Mind, tells Yagyu Munenori not to let his mind stop in the sword. He says

If one thinks, he will be taken by his thoughts.Because this is so, leave aside thoughts and discrimination, throw the mind away from the entire body do not stop it here and there, and when it does visit these various places, it will realize function and act without error.The effort not to stop the body in just one place-this is discipline. Not stopping the mind is object and essence. Put nowhere, it will be everywhere.

All expressions of harmonies with self and nature.

高尾山 火渡りまつり Mt. Takao Fire Walk Ceremony

The view from Takao, the highest spot within Tokyo, takes in a magnificent forest stretching away across the mountain ridges to the north and the south and the towers of Shinjuku. I really feel like I’m flying above the city when I’m up there.

At one of the taikais, a yamabushi’s costume was displayed in the tea room of the Tokyo Budokan. At Takao, yamabushi, practioners of  修験道, shugendo, have been doing ascetic rites for over 1000 years. Enshrined in Yakuoin Temple at the top of Takao is Izuna Gongen, a fierce-looking, beaked man wearing the shugensha’s costume and bearing a sword. His cult originated at Togakushi.

So many expressions of Japanese religiousity and esoteric practices are deeply syncretic; the mountain asceticism combines old Shinto practice, Shingon Buddhism, and Taoism. At Yakuoin Temple, if you have the time to take in the tapestry of symbolism and sacred words decorating the statuary, temple buildings and the mountain itself, there are so many messages from these traditions.

In the Shinto vein, the Shugendo practioners honor the natural cycle, and in the Buddhist practice of letting go of things that hinder you on the path, they mark the early spring with a ritual to burn away attachments and evil in the form of 火渡り, fire walking.

The ritual, attended by thousands of people, priests, monks and nuns, weekend shugensha in white ritual  garb, young people, old ladies, lasted a few hours. The chanting of the Heart Sutra (I like Alan Ginsberg’s translation of the Japanese version) and various mantra, including the Fudomyo mantra, continued as the fire burned, and the monks crossed on the glowing embers barefoot, followed by the throng. When we took our turn, the monks and nuns were chanting as fervently as at the beginning, and the ashes were still warm. Guided and protected by the monks, we stood in salt before and after the crossing, and then knelt to be invested with fire from the head priest.

So many symbols and meanings came to me as we were participating. Salt is used to ritually purify in many cultures, but especially in Japan, it’s used to negate bad luck that might follow after a death or funeral, and little piles of salt are placed at the doors of businesses and houses to keep evil out. To my mind, we died a bit there, crossing the fire. I think some of the baggage got sloughed off. I feel lighter now. And I felt really cared for by the monks. They are present for each person as they emerge from that Fudo-fire.

I’ve been looking for an explanation of the meaning of the Fudomyo mantra, “Noomakusaa mandabaa zaradansen damaka roshada sowataya untara takanman,” for some time, but as yet have not found an English translation of the orginal Sanskrit. So for now, I’m satisfied to chant it and as I do so, think about all that Fudomyo embodies.