--originally posted Friday, December 23, 2011--
It was bothering me that I couldn't remember how many times I ran the second variation of my randori test, so I sent a Facebook message to the two guys who were the "bad guys" (see this post). They said I only ran that second scenario once after Tucker spoke up. I'm glad I didn't forget one complete run-through, haha. I forgot little details, like how I got to a certain point, but I would've been a little concerned if I completely blanked out for about a minute. So that mystery's solved.
The other girl at the UAH dojo is testing for shodan soon. I don't know what rank she is right now, and I'll have to wait to actually see the test, but I have a feeling she's already ranked herself. She's improved quite a bit, though. I'm proud of her. :) I hope everyone there does well on testing, which should be in about 2 weeks or so.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Cutting Workshop
--originally posted Sunday, January 22, 2012--
I cut things with a LIVE SWORD on Saturday! Oh yeah!! So much fun. It's both more difficult than you'd think and easier. If you were to give a sword to an amateur on the street, they could do some damage. But they'd probably end up dinging the blade (and dulling it), and probably bending it because their cuts would be sloppy. Maybe even break the sword. So we learned how to hold the sword properly, keeping the bone structure aligned with the cut. Then lots and lots of drills so you can cut efficiently and in straight lines. The cut is so easy once you get the form right - barely takes any power at all if the blade is sharp - but it takes so much practice and focus to get the form right.
Everyone got to cut two rolled and soaked tatami mats. My first one, I borrowed someone's sword and we later found out that it wasn't sharp enough. That first round didn't go very well because of that. But my second round, I borrowed someone else's sword and it was very sharp. I had also taken advantage of the copious amount of time between my two turns to drill the lever action you're supposed to have with your arms right at the point of the cut - I didn't do it at all my first time. When I was doing a couple dry runs before the first cut this time, Tucker-sensei guided my arms through the cut so I could feel what they were supposed to do. Apparently that's what it took for everything to click, because my first cut was amazingly easy and successful. I was openly shocked at how easy it was to cut through the roll.
This is definitely something I want to practice again. It's fun, challenging, and I think it has some invaluable applications I want to explore.
I cut things with a LIVE SWORD on Saturday! Oh yeah!! So much fun. It's both more difficult than you'd think and easier. If you were to give a sword to an amateur on the street, they could do some damage. But they'd probably end up dinging the blade (and dulling it), and probably bending it because their cuts would be sloppy. Maybe even break the sword. So we learned how to hold the sword properly, keeping the bone structure aligned with the cut. Then lots and lots of drills so you can cut efficiently and in straight lines. The cut is so easy once you get the form right - barely takes any power at all if the blade is sharp - but it takes so much practice and focus to get the form right.
Everyone got to cut two rolled and soaked tatami mats. My first one, I borrowed someone's sword and we later found out that it wasn't sharp enough. That first round didn't go very well because of that. But my second round, I borrowed someone else's sword and it was very sharp. I had also taken advantage of the copious amount of time between my two turns to drill the lever action you're supposed to have with your arms right at the point of the cut - I didn't do it at all my first time. When I was doing a couple dry runs before the first cut this time, Tucker-sensei guided my arms through the cut so I could feel what they were supposed to do. Apparently that's what it took for everything to click, because my first cut was amazingly easy and successful. I was openly shocked at how easy it was to cut through the roll.
This is definitely something I want to practice again. It's fun, challenging, and I think it has some invaluable applications I want to explore.
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| A man practicing kiriage on tatami. |
Shihan Asuncion seminar 2012
--originally posted Monday, February 6, 2012--
Apparently there was some thing called the "Super Bowl" going on this past weekend. I wouldn't know much about that; I was too busy unpacking from the weekend and climbing into bed! For those of you who don't know what a seminar means for those of us in the Bujinkan, it's a one- or two-day event over a weekend that features one or more high-level teachers. In my experience, there's always been a theme for the seminar, something we'll be working on the entire time. The format goes like this: bow in, maybe do a warmup, teacher shows something, attendees practice, repeat previous 2 steps all day, bow out. Sprinkle in some water/note-taking breaks and a break for lunch, and that's the seminar. (A workshop is like a seminar, but it's typically only one day, it's less expensive, and the teacher isn't as highly ranked. From what I've experienced, anyway.) Asuncion-shihan is the teacher of both my teachers, and he's been coming to Huntsville every year for the past few years. Both my teachers strongly encourage their students to attend the seminar, to the point of practically requiring it, and with good reason; Asuncion has excellent taijutsu, and it would be hard to go wrong imitating him. The theme this year was eda koppo, which is the name for a weapon that's basically a stick.
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| Little stick OF DEATH. |
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| MY little stick of death, a stainless steel Sharpie. (It doubles as an actual Sharpie.) |
It's pretty easy to see that this kind of weapon would be extremely versatile. You can use pretty much anything as an eda koppo. Interestingly, we didn't use it very much during the seminar, which makes me think maybe it wasn't the weapon itself that was the point of the seminar.
Anyway, it was an awesome way to spend the weekend. And the socializing Saturday night was a blast; always is.
Tangent on Rokkon Shojo
--originally posted Sunday, November 21, 2010--
It means "purifying the 6 senses" (the 6th being perception), and it's the theme for Bujinkan this year. There are lots of different ways to purify the senses: don't listen to your music too loudly, maintain a healthy diet, wear clothes that make your skin more sensitive to textural differences, no perfumes, take care of your eyes, etc. It's purifying perception that gets interesting.
One thing that really clicked with me is emptying the self in service of others (and in general). I think that clicked more than some of the other ways to purify perception that we talked about, because it matches what Christianity teaches (and I am indeed a Christian). I noticed that I had become very self-centered and self-serving; since that revelation, I've been trying to maintain a spirit of serving others, but it's difficult. Washing dishes and taking out the trash for our suite is a start, but I know I can serve in more ways than just that.
And here is where I run into a persistent obstacle: How much is too much when you're giving of yourself? Time, money, relationships. How much do I keep for myself? If I felt the Holy Spirit leading me to give away all my possessions, I probably would. Short of that, though, how much charity is too much? When does giving cross the line from something good into something foolish?
It's possible that jumping ahead to look at the potential for excessive giving is some unconscious roadblock to giving more than I feel like, but I still think it's a possibility worth thought and discussion. Please share your thoughts in the comment section below. Thank you.
It means "purifying the 6 senses" (the 6th being perception), and it's the theme for Bujinkan this year. There are lots of different ways to purify the senses: don't listen to your music too loudly, maintain a healthy diet, wear clothes that make your skin more sensitive to textural differences, no perfumes, take care of your eyes, etc. It's purifying perception that gets interesting.
One thing that really clicked with me is emptying the self in service of others (and in general). I think that clicked more than some of the other ways to purify perception that we talked about, because it matches what Christianity teaches (and I am indeed a Christian). I noticed that I had become very self-centered and self-serving; since that revelation, I've been trying to maintain a spirit of serving others, but it's difficult. Washing dishes and taking out the trash for our suite is a start, but I know I can serve in more ways than just that.
And here is where I run into a persistent obstacle: How much is too much when you're giving of yourself? Time, money, relationships. How much do I keep for myself? If I felt the Holy Spirit leading me to give away all my possessions, I probably would. Short of that, though, how much charity is too much? When does giving cross the line from something good into something foolish?
It's possible that jumping ahead to look at the potential for excessive giving is some unconscious roadblock to giving more than I feel like, but I still think it's a possibility worth thought and discussion. Please share your thoughts in the comment section below. Thank you.
shodan testing, pt. 3
--originally posted Friday, December 9, 2011--
The one other shodan candidate who hadn't been able to come Monday showed up on Thursday. He had intended to review testing material over the weekend - not a good practice, to wait until the weekend before - but some things came up that demanded his attention. So he hadn't had time to study and he hadn't done much movement in the past week. Tucker-sensei summarized Duncan's test very well: what he knew, he did great, and what he didn't know... not so great. The rest of us had gray areas, but Duncan was very black and white. It was very frustrating, watching him not remember some very simple techniques, because I know he knows them. We train a lot together, since he's about my size and shares my flexibility. And we've been fairly matched in rank since the beginning (though he was green when I started as a white), so he's also a comrade.
It's so hard to watch someone struggle when you want them to succeed. The worst was when I could see that his body knew what to do, but his brain was getting in the way. Tucker-sensei told him a few times to just let his body move, but he didn't quite get there. I'm not sure, but I think Sensei almost didn't let him go on to the randori section, and he would remain a 1st kyu - we deliberated over it after he had finished all the techniques in the requirements. He absolutely needs to learn those techniques, but in the end we decided that he had the spirit and he could certainly learn the techniques and do them well, but he hadn't prepared enough. He was ready in every other way, in my opinion, and those ways are what matter more (also in my opinion). He did pretty well in the randori section, which I was pleased to see.
You learn so much from watching someone else test. You can see how stress affects other people, see how their body knows things their brains do not, and how they can quickly forget things (especially noted in some of the uke who worked with him; they didn't always remember the attack they were supposed to do, even though they tested it this week). It also showed me some things about myself, particularly that I'm too attached to my desire for others to progress. The ones I'm not attached to, I ranked lower than Tucker-sensei did. The ones I am attached to, I either ranked higher or had more hope for. Looking back, I agree with Sensei's decision on the first 2 placements. And looking at our newest shodan, I still believe that he was ready, but he better learn those techniques. Just because we don't have to test officially anymore doesn't mean he doesn't need to know them. One, because they're pretty basic, and we all ought to know them. Two, because it will show that he really does want to meet the qualifications of a shodan, in spirit and skill. And three, because we'll have to teach these things at some point, and it's pretty difficult to teach something you don't know or have a good grasp of.
Anyway, so that was that. Some of us went out to On Tap afterward, and just chatted and laughed and hung out until about one in the morning. A great end to the day. :)
The one other shodan candidate who hadn't been able to come Monday showed up on Thursday. He had intended to review testing material over the weekend - not a good practice, to wait until the weekend before - but some things came up that demanded his attention. So he hadn't had time to study and he hadn't done much movement in the past week. Tucker-sensei summarized Duncan's test very well: what he knew, he did great, and what he didn't know... not so great. The rest of us had gray areas, but Duncan was very black and white. It was very frustrating, watching him not remember some very simple techniques, because I know he knows them. We train a lot together, since he's about my size and shares my flexibility. And we've been fairly matched in rank since the beginning (though he was green when I started as a white), so he's also a comrade.
It's so hard to watch someone struggle when you want them to succeed. The worst was when I could see that his body knew what to do, but his brain was getting in the way. Tucker-sensei told him a few times to just let his body move, but he didn't quite get there. I'm not sure, but I think Sensei almost didn't let him go on to the randori section, and he would remain a 1st kyu - we deliberated over it after he had finished all the techniques in the requirements. He absolutely needs to learn those techniques, but in the end we decided that he had the spirit and he could certainly learn the techniques and do them well, but he hadn't prepared enough. He was ready in every other way, in my opinion, and those ways are what matter more (also in my opinion). He did pretty well in the randori section, which I was pleased to see.
You learn so much from watching someone else test. You can see how stress affects other people, see how their body knows things their brains do not, and how they can quickly forget things (especially noted in some of the uke who worked with him; they didn't always remember the attack they were supposed to do, even though they tested it this week). It also showed me some things about myself, particularly that I'm too attached to my desire for others to progress. The ones I'm not attached to, I ranked lower than Tucker-sensei did. The ones I am attached to, I either ranked higher or had more hope for. Looking back, I agree with Sensei's decision on the first 2 placements. And looking at our newest shodan, I still believe that he was ready, but he better learn those techniques. Just because we don't have to test officially anymore doesn't mean he doesn't need to know them. One, because they're pretty basic, and we all ought to know them. Two, because it will show that he really does want to meet the qualifications of a shodan, in spirit and skill. And three, because we'll have to teach these things at some point, and it's pretty difficult to teach something you don't know or have a good grasp of.
Anyway, so that was that. Some of us went out to On Tap afterward, and just chatted and laughed and hung out until about one in the morning. A great end to the day. :)
shodan testing, pt. 2 - Banpen Fugyo
--originally posted Wednesday, December 7, 2011--
So you know that whole thing where I thought my shodan test would be spaced out over a couple days? Yeah, that didn't happen, haha. We got through the material a lot quicker than expected on Monday, and we had enough time to justify staying late to just finish the test. So 4 of the 5 of us up for shodan tested the whole dang thing last night. The other one will probably test later this week - he wasn't able to come on Monday. Anyway, the test went well. Turns out everyone was right: I was ready for shodan, haha. I think I did well, once I got my head in the game, but maybe that's because I was so uncertain and doubtful, and the actual results were so much better than I thought they would be. *shrug*
It's pretty tiring to go through the entire test. We have 4 tiers of ranks before shodan: shoshinsha (white belt), shoden (9-7th kyu, green belt), chuden (6-4th kyu, green belt), and okuden (3rd-1st kyu, green belt). Then there's the shodan section, which is for your black belt. The test is cumulative, so you have to do everything up to and including the tier you're testing for. Definitely a test of your stamina, your ability to control your breathing, and your ability to stay calm while still moving with intention and spirit. Thankfully, Tucker-sensei was giving us short breaks in between each tier so we could breathe a little, get some water, and he could jot down some notes and confer with the other black belt judging. It would've been even more difficult otherwise.
In my opinion, the most important part of the test requirements for shodan (including all the other levels before that) is randori. It's at the very end of everything, and it's kind of like sparring, only realistic. I've seen it done differently, but the way Tucker-sensei had us do randori was he created a scenario that we had to survive or protect someone else and then survive. Two guys had the scenario of protecting their wife/girlfriend (role played by yours truly), one guy had to survive getting mugged on the street at gunpoint, and I had to not get kidnapped. Randori is always chaotic, just like anything you do in real life; it's not nice and neat like what we train in the dojo. Sensei had us moving slowly - but smoothly and with spirit - for that very reason; if we had gone full speed, no doubt someone would've been injured.
I had the benefit of watching two others go before me, but I didn't know who Sensei would call on next. Each time, he would point to someone on the sideline and tell them to go grab one of the weapons (just a knife and a gun, overall). And each time, I didn't know if he was going to be calling me up or someone else, so my mind immediately started creating scenarios to picture what I would do if someone had a knife or a gun. The fear is always there when you hear someone will have a weapon, particularly a gun in my case.
I played the role of the first man's wife for his randori. As I watched him go through the scenario, I realized that all my visualization of times when I might need to protect my sister or my friends had paid off: I already had the mindset of calling out for them to run, which is what the first man forgot to do. The man with the knife was able to get past my "husband" and stab me. Every other time, the man testing remembered to yell for me to get away, so I wasn't stabbed again.
The second scenario was a man being robbed at gunpoint, an event more likely to happen to him where he lives and works. The gun scenario, as I said, frightened me. Which means I need to work on those kinds of techniques and try to inoculate myself to that fear so I don't freeze or do something stupid if that ever comes up.
In the third scenario, the last guy was protecting his "girlfriend" (me). It ran about the same as the first guy's, except he had the benefit of already knowing to call out. (Or maybe he also already had that trained in his mind, like I did from frequent thought scenarios. The world may never know.)
I can't remember the last guy's test as well as the others (including my own), but I think all of us had issues getting out of the dojo, these-are-my-friends mindset.
My randori test had 2 variations, the overall goal being to kidnap me. The first time, Sensei told me to walk to the other end of the mat and face away from him. Then he called up one of the other guys and whispered to him what to do. Once he did that, he said aloud to me that the scenario was a kidnapping. I'm still facing the opposite direction (as part of the scenario). I could hear my attacker walking up the mat toward me, and I could feel that weird vibrating/prickly/tense feeling in my shoulders (the kind you get when you feel someone staring at you) when he got closer. In retrospect, if that had happened in real life, I would've turned around to see what was going on or who was coming. Instead I let him grab me, one hand over my mouth, one arm around my middle. Looking back, I shouldn't have let him do that (twice), but the end result was effective enough. He never did manage to pick me up and carry me (though he probably should've tried that). ((EDIT: He actually did pick me up the second time; I don't remember it at all, but apparently I got my feet back on the ground.)) I got away both times.
Funny story, actually. The second time (maybe?), I got free and started running like I was going to exit through one of the doors on the other end of the dojo, where my sensei had been sitting. He was standing during my randori, but I didn't know why. Turns out he was the van, and if I'd let myself get to that point I would've "lost." So I was basically running toward the real danger, haha. But he just kind of smiled and said it was fine since I didn't know he was the van. I didn't run that way again.
The second variation, I was facing my attackers. Sensei added another character to the scenario, and both of them were going to try and grab my wrists and drag me to the van (which was still indicated by Sensei). Not thinking that these are real enemies and not my friends, I let them grab my wrists. My mind was on doing some kind of technique instead of just getting away from them. I think I did that 3 times before Tucker-sensei stepped in and reminded me of the roles, asking me if I'd let two men just come up and grab my wrists. I smiled, because I'd just told myself while I was sitting and waiting (before it was my turn for randori) to stay in the role. Oh, how soon we forget. But it went much better once I got the right idea in my head. I can't remember if we ran that scenario one or 2 more times. Might've been 2. Anyway, the only one I remember after Sensei's correction was the last one. The two came in, and I didn't just stand there this time. I walked a little off to one side at an angle so that they were more lined up, and less able to both grab me at once. The one I was now closer to is more my size, and I'm more familiar with how his body moves. Somehow, I'm not sure how, I evaded a grab and turned the momentum to keep him between me and the original guy. Doing so brought me close to one of the big garage doors we have in our training space. It just so happened that the doors were pulled up about a foot to let in some cooler air, since the night was warm enough to need it. When I had been playing the roles of wife and girlfriend, that door was consistently my escape route, so I already had it in mind when it came my turn to escape.
((EDIT: Apparently I also had some look in my eyes after Tucker reminded me of the roles we were playing. A couple people have said that it looked like I was gonna kill someone. I find that interesting on a psychological level.))
So I'm there, keeping one man away by keeping the other man in front of me, and the door's right there. I know I can fit underneath - I had actually done just that on Saturday during a break at a training workshop, just for kicks to see if I could fit under the crack when it was smaller (maybe 4"?) - and I glance down, then go for it. I disengaged and scurried underneath onto the loading dock outside. I can't remember if someone (or multiple people) cheered or clapped ((EDIT: They clapped)), but I remember hearing a positive response (and being pretty pleased with myself, too). That was the end of my randori. As with the others, Tucker-sensei had me come to the center and face away from him while he and the other black belt (our only other one at the time) quietly conferred about whether to promote me. I had no doubt that I would be promoted, and sure enough, when he told me to turn around he gave me a shiny new black belt and said "congratulations."
It's a huge confidence booster to make it through everything and have your sensei decide you're ready for shodan. I was on an adrenaline/happy high for the rest of the night, haha. Mass texted a bunch of my Bujinkan friends and some of my other friends who I don't see often but would be excited with me. Tweeted about it. Took pictures on my phone of my old belt and patch, then my new belt and patch. And just generally celebrated, haha. Of course, once the excitement wears off and putting on the new belt feels normal, my mind will once again be back to a place of examining and learning. Now I have to start applying myself to studying and asking myself why we do something, breaking down the techniques to see what's really going on. In a couple months, Tucker-sensei will be gone and we new black belts will be leading class.
It's not just that I'll have to help teach that will push me to up the ante on my learning approach: "shodan" literally means "first level." Now that I've shown a certain level of mastery of basic techniques and a certain level of spirit and determination, I'm considered a real student. NOW I can start truly studying, and that's very exciting to me. I've seen the 15th dans move and teach, and it's incredible. I've seen people closer to my rank move and teach, and I always learn something. I have so many people to look up to and learn from, and it's such a blessing. And so long as some of my friends stay above me, I'll witness firsthand the combination of a humble spirit, good taijutsu (body movement), and a student's attitude.
I've got a lot to learn, and I know it. Now I need to polish everything, and learn not just the techniques, but the "why" behind every aspect of them. It's gonna be a lot of work, but so much fun. I love that you can spend an incredible amount of time on one basic thing in this art and still not have it perfectly. There's always room to improve and learn! Even our grandmaster, amazing and magical as he is, is still learning.
"Banpen fugyo" is something I've heard on occasion in the Bujinkan circle. It means "one thousand changes, no surprises." There's suddenly been a shift in my training, as though I really did cross a threshold, and things are changing. The trick will be to stay true to myself and my purpose and just flow with what comes. I entitled this post "banpen fugyo" partially for that and also because I hadn't expected to test everything on Monday night; things changed from my predictions and I had to go with it.
I'd like to add another Bujinkan saying that gets passed around like candy, but remains very meaningful: "ganbatte." It means something like "keep going," "do your best," or "good luck," but the emphasis is on the effort you put into it (not cosmic luck). I mostly use it for "keep going," and it's been my primary thought since testing. I'm a shodan now, and all that means is that my sensei now considers me a serious student, and others can see by my belt that I'm a committed student. All that's left for me is to keep training; I'm telling myself "ganbatte."
So you know that whole thing where I thought my shodan test would be spaced out over a couple days? Yeah, that didn't happen, haha. We got through the material a lot quicker than expected on Monday, and we had enough time to justify staying late to just finish the test. So 4 of the 5 of us up for shodan tested the whole dang thing last night. The other one will probably test later this week - he wasn't able to come on Monday. Anyway, the test went well. Turns out everyone was right: I was ready for shodan, haha. I think I did well, once I got my head in the game, but maybe that's because I was so uncertain and doubtful, and the actual results were so much better than I thought they would be. *shrug*
It's pretty tiring to go through the entire test. We have 4 tiers of ranks before shodan: shoshinsha (white belt), shoden (9-7th kyu, green belt), chuden (6-4th kyu, green belt), and okuden (3rd-1st kyu, green belt). Then there's the shodan section, which is for your black belt. The test is cumulative, so you have to do everything up to and including the tier you're testing for. Definitely a test of your stamina, your ability to control your breathing, and your ability to stay calm while still moving with intention and spirit. Thankfully, Tucker-sensei was giving us short breaks in between each tier so we could breathe a little, get some water, and he could jot down some notes and confer with the other black belt judging. It would've been even more difficult otherwise.
In my opinion, the most important part of the test requirements for shodan (including all the other levels before that) is randori. It's at the very end of everything, and it's kind of like sparring, only realistic. I've seen it done differently, but the way Tucker-sensei had us do randori was he created a scenario that we had to survive or protect someone else and then survive. Two guys had the scenario of protecting their wife/girlfriend (role played by yours truly), one guy had to survive getting mugged on the street at gunpoint, and I had to not get kidnapped. Randori is always chaotic, just like anything you do in real life; it's not nice and neat like what we train in the dojo. Sensei had us moving slowly - but smoothly and with spirit - for that very reason; if we had gone full speed, no doubt someone would've been injured.
I had the benefit of watching two others go before me, but I didn't know who Sensei would call on next. Each time, he would point to someone on the sideline and tell them to go grab one of the weapons (just a knife and a gun, overall). And each time, I didn't know if he was going to be calling me up or someone else, so my mind immediately started creating scenarios to picture what I would do if someone had a knife or a gun. The fear is always there when you hear someone will have a weapon, particularly a gun in my case.
I played the role of the first man's wife for his randori. As I watched him go through the scenario, I realized that all my visualization of times when I might need to protect my sister or my friends had paid off: I already had the mindset of calling out for them to run, which is what the first man forgot to do. The man with the knife was able to get past my "husband" and stab me. Every other time, the man testing remembered to yell for me to get away, so I wasn't stabbed again.
The second scenario was a man being robbed at gunpoint, an event more likely to happen to him where he lives and works. The gun scenario, as I said, frightened me. Which means I need to work on those kinds of techniques and try to inoculate myself to that fear so I don't freeze or do something stupid if that ever comes up.
In the third scenario, the last guy was protecting his "girlfriend" (me). It ran about the same as the first guy's, except he had the benefit of already knowing to call out. (Or maybe he also already had that trained in his mind, like I did from frequent thought scenarios. The world may never know.)
I can't remember the last guy's test as well as the others (including my own), but I think all of us had issues getting out of the dojo, these-are-my-friends mindset.
My randori test had 2 variations, the overall goal being to kidnap me. The first time, Sensei told me to walk to the other end of the mat and face away from him. Then he called up one of the other guys and whispered to him what to do. Once he did that, he said aloud to me that the scenario was a kidnapping. I'm still facing the opposite direction (as part of the scenario). I could hear my attacker walking up the mat toward me, and I could feel that weird vibrating/prickly/tense feeling in my shoulders (the kind you get when you feel someone staring at you) when he got closer. In retrospect, if that had happened in real life, I would've turned around to see what was going on or who was coming. Instead I let him grab me, one hand over my mouth, one arm around my middle. Looking back, I shouldn't have let him do that (twice), but the end result was effective enough. He never did manage to pick me up and carry me (though he probably should've tried that). ((EDIT: He actually did pick me up the second time; I don't remember it at all, but apparently I got my feet back on the ground.)) I got away both times.
Funny story, actually. The second time (maybe?), I got free and started running like I was going to exit through one of the doors on the other end of the dojo, where my sensei had been sitting. He was standing during my randori, but I didn't know why. Turns out he was the van, and if I'd let myself get to that point I would've "lost." So I was basically running toward the real danger, haha. But he just kind of smiled and said it was fine since I didn't know he was the van. I didn't run that way again.
The second variation, I was facing my attackers. Sensei added another character to the scenario, and both of them were going to try and grab my wrists and drag me to the van (which was still indicated by Sensei). Not thinking that these are real enemies and not my friends, I let them grab my wrists. My mind was on doing some kind of technique instead of just getting away from them. I think I did that 3 times before Tucker-sensei stepped in and reminded me of the roles, asking me if I'd let two men just come up and grab my wrists. I smiled, because I'd just told myself while I was sitting and waiting (before it was my turn for randori) to stay in the role. Oh, how soon we forget. But it went much better once I got the right idea in my head. I can't remember if we ran that scenario one or 2 more times. Might've been 2. Anyway, the only one I remember after Sensei's correction was the last one. The two came in, and I didn't just stand there this time. I walked a little off to one side at an angle so that they were more lined up, and less able to both grab me at once. The one I was now closer to is more my size, and I'm more familiar with how his body moves. Somehow, I'm not sure how, I evaded a grab and turned the momentum to keep him between me and the original guy. Doing so brought me close to one of the big garage doors we have in our training space. It just so happened that the doors were pulled up about a foot to let in some cooler air, since the night was warm enough to need it. When I had been playing the roles of wife and girlfriend, that door was consistently my escape route, so I already had it in mind when it came my turn to escape.
((EDIT: Apparently I also had some look in my eyes after Tucker reminded me of the roles we were playing. A couple people have said that it looked like I was gonna kill someone. I find that interesting on a psychological level.))
So I'm there, keeping one man away by keeping the other man in front of me, and the door's right there. I know I can fit underneath - I had actually done just that on Saturday during a break at a training workshop, just for kicks to see if I could fit under the crack when it was smaller (maybe 4"?) - and I glance down, then go for it. I disengaged and scurried underneath onto the loading dock outside. I can't remember if someone (or multiple people) cheered or clapped ((EDIT: They clapped)), but I remember hearing a positive response (and being pretty pleased with myself, too). That was the end of my randori. As with the others, Tucker-sensei had me come to the center and face away from him while he and the other black belt (our only other one at the time) quietly conferred about whether to promote me. I had no doubt that I would be promoted, and sure enough, when he told me to turn around he gave me a shiny new black belt and said "congratulations."
It's a huge confidence booster to make it through everything and have your sensei decide you're ready for shodan. I was on an adrenaline/happy high for the rest of the night, haha. Mass texted a bunch of my Bujinkan friends and some of my other friends who I don't see often but would be excited with me. Tweeted about it. Took pictures on my phone of my old belt and patch, then my new belt and patch. And just generally celebrated, haha. Of course, once the excitement wears off and putting on the new belt feels normal, my mind will once again be back to a place of examining and learning. Now I have to start applying myself to studying and asking myself why we do something, breaking down the techniques to see what's really going on. In a couple months, Tucker-sensei will be gone and we new black belts will be leading class.
It's not just that I'll have to help teach that will push me to up the ante on my learning approach: "shodan" literally means "first level." Now that I've shown a certain level of mastery of basic techniques and a certain level of spirit and determination, I'm considered a real student. NOW I can start truly studying, and that's very exciting to me. I've seen the 15th dans move and teach, and it's incredible. I've seen people closer to my rank move and teach, and I always learn something. I have so many people to look up to and learn from, and it's such a blessing. And so long as some of my friends stay above me, I'll witness firsthand the combination of a humble spirit, good taijutsu (body movement), and a student's attitude.
I've got a lot to learn, and I know it. Now I need to polish everything, and learn not just the techniques, but the "why" behind every aspect of them. It's gonna be a lot of work, but so much fun. I love that you can spend an incredible amount of time on one basic thing in this art and still not have it perfectly. There's always room to improve and learn! Even our grandmaster, amazing and magical as he is, is still learning.
"Banpen fugyo" is something I've heard on occasion in the Bujinkan circle. It means "one thousand changes, no surprises." There's suddenly been a shift in my training, as though I really did cross a threshold, and things are changing. The trick will be to stay true to myself and my purpose and just flow with what comes. I entitled this post "banpen fugyo" partially for that and also because I hadn't expected to test everything on Monday night; things changed from my predictions and I had to go with it.
I'd like to add another Bujinkan saying that gets passed around like candy, but remains very meaningful: "ganbatte." It means something like "keep going," "do your best," or "good luck," but the emphasis is on the effort you put into it (not cosmic luck). I mostly use it for "keep going," and it's been my primary thought since testing. I'm a shodan now, and all that means is that my sensei now considers me a serious student, and others can see by my belt that I'm a committed student. All that's left for me is to keep training; I'm telling myself "ganbatte."
shodan testing, pt. 1
--originally posted Monday, December 5, 2011--
Tonight is the first section of my test for shodan. I'm not concerned about the techniques at all, really, though I might need to brush up on a couple of them. I'm hoping my test will be spaced out over 3 classes instead of 2 (no way it can fit in just one 2-hour class). That gives me time to breathe and refocus and prepare for the next bit. Bah, I can feel my nerves all the way to my fingertips just thinking about it! Haha. I have no doubt that I'll make shodan (if anyone has any doubts about my chances, they've made no such comments or indications to me), but I'm still nervous. Just because I don't know what to expect. One of my friends at the Huntsville dojo gave me some great advice: just zone out and let your body do what it needs to do to keep you safe. Exactly what I needed to hear, because I always default toward overthinking rather than simply doing. And I know that when I stop thinking and stop trying to make something happen, things fall into place much more easily. I just have to get out of my own way, haha. :)
Tonight is the first section of my test for shodan. I'm not concerned about the techniques at all, really, though I might need to brush up on a couple of them. I'm hoping my test will be spaced out over 3 classes instead of 2 (no way it can fit in just one 2-hour class). That gives me time to breathe and refocus and prepare for the next bit. Bah, I can feel my nerves all the way to my fingertips just thinking about it! Haha. I have no doubt that I'll make shodan (if anyone has any doubts about my chances, they've made no such comments or indications to me), but I'm still nervous. Just because I don't know what to expect. One of my friends at the Huntsville dojo gave me some great advice: just zone out and let your body do what it needs to do to keep you safe. Exactly what I needed to hear, because I always default toward overthinking rather than simply doing. And I know that when I stop thinking and stop trying to make something happen, things fall into place much more easily. I just have to get out of my own way, haha. :)
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Hajime
I decided it was time to start organizing my blog posts into relevant blogs. One for useless rambling, one for literary stuff, and this one. This blog will be a place for me to voice thoughts and musings about what I learn in the course of training, both in the dojo and out. Some old posts from a past blog will be included, since they're relevant and I don't want to lose them.
The blog is titled "onegaishimasu" because I want this to be a relationship that's good for both parties. Ideally, that would be you, my readers, and me. I highly encourage anyone reading to comment with their thoughts and insights. I learn a lot from writing things out, but I learn even more from hearing other people chime in. If no one is reading, then the relationship is between me and the blog, or me and the internet, I guess. I'll tend to the blog, and the blog will help me.
My other reason for the name is that I wanted to express my overall desire to learn. We say "onegaishimasu" every time we bow in and (in theory) when we choose a partner to train with. We are preparing to work with one another for our mutual benefit. There's a strong sense of humility in that cooperation. These are some of my efforts to synthesize the information I've gotten from others and my own thoughts and observations. Again, I encourage you to comment whenever you have something to say.
Well, I suppose that's sufficient for the introductory post. Onegaishimasu!!
The blog is titled "onegaishimasu" because I want this to be a relationship that's good for both parties. Ideally, that would be you, my readers, and me. I highly encourage anyone reading to comment with their thoughts and insights. I learn a lot from writing things out, but I learn even more from hearing other people chime in. If no one is reading, then the relationship is between me and the blog, or me and the internet, I guess. I'll tend to the blog, and the blog will help me.
My other reason for the name is that I wanted to express my overall desire to learn. We say "onegaishimasu" every time we bow in and (in theory) when we choose a partner to train with. We are preparing to work with one another for our mutual benefit. There's a strong sense of humility in that cooperation. These are some of my efforts to synthesize the information I've gotten from others and my own thoughts and observations. Again, I encourage you to comment whenever you have something to say.
Well, I suppose that's sufficient for the introductory post. Onegaishimasu!!
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