Information about Okinawan Goju Ryu Karate and Budo by Garry Lever
Just a quick post this time to wish you all a merry christmas, and best of luck for the new year.
Thank you all for your continued interest and support of this blog, its quite amazing to me that this blog has become as popular as it has. I just wish I could write more interesting things which might actually warrant the attention, rather than just my unimportant opinions.
Keep training and studying hard. I’ll get back to work with more posts in the new year.
Best regards,
Garry
This is a question that comes up every single time somebody asks me about my training. It has gotten to the point where I can’t even be bothered to provide an answer for the question anymore. Maybe this may seem a little rude and impatient of me, but then again, if the person asking the question were actually able to understand my answer, they more than likely would not have felt the urge to ask the question in the first place.
First, let me explain my current situation. I was fortunate enough to be accepted as a student of my sensei about10 years ago. Since that time he has always done his best by me, and tried to help me as much as he could with regards to my training and life in general. My sensei is not an instructor. Neither is he a coach. When we train together he does not stand at the end of the dojo shouting ‘ichi, ni, san’. His role as a sensei is much more in-depth than that, and subtle to the point where a lot of what gets said is often not understood straight away, but requires work on the part of the student to develop the ability to understand.
My sensei re-located to Spain about 7 years ago. At the time this was very difficult for me, and my training lacked direction. This however was my problem as I hadn’t yet learned how to take responsibility for my own development, and relied upon being spoonfed information by my teacher. I was still at a stage where I needed someone to shout ‘ichi, ni, san’ for me to feel as though I was training.
This period of feeling lost soon come to pass, and I was able to grow as a practitioner and take responsibility for my own training. Having learned the physical movements of the kata, I now needed to refine and polish those movements, and further to this, try to develop an understanding of the kata and the art of Goju Ryu in general. This is a task that will occupy me for the rest of my life, and no amount of shouting ‘ichi, ni, san’ will bring me any closer to completing this task. It is a personal journey for me, and I shouldn’t have to inconvenience anybody else by asking them to hold my hand along the path, for they will need both of their hands in order to navigate their own way along the path.
Despite the distance between my sensei and I, we are still able to train together a few times a year. This may not seem like much, but I count myself as lucky because I get the opportunity to work on his areas of criticism for a few months before standing before him again. This also encourages me to work harder because it would be incredibly rude of me to meet him again a few months down the line having made no effort to work on the areas he had previously advised me were weak!
In the times between our meetings, I do my best to train according to his advice, making my way down to the dojo as often as my life allows. There is nobody else there at my dojo to notice whether I turn up or not. I have no responsibilities to fulfil in this sense. I could very easily give in to the feelings of laziness and settle down to watch meaningless TV instead of training in a freezing cold dojo. Sometimes I am unable to defeat the lazy side of my character, and I give in to it. Again, nobody knows this apart from me so I have no reason to feel guilty. Despite this I feel a terrible sense of shame, and spend the rest of the day in a bad mood because I have cheated myself. Other times I am more successful and am able to drag myself back out into the cold to train for the sake of training. At such times I allow myself to feel a little pride in the fact that I had won a small battle against the negativity that dwells inside myself. Such small victories are what training is all about.
Upon the death of Kanryo Higaonna Sensei, Miyagi Chojun Sensei did not feel sorry for himself and go out looking for another teacher. Having studied his teachers art in depth he then devoted the rest of his life to refining and passing on that tradition. Likewise, Miyazato Eiichi Sensei did not dwell long upon losing his sensei; preferring instead to throw himself into the act of training and further studying the advice shared with him by his teacher. My sensei is also in this same situation since the passing of Miyazato Sensei. I count myself very lucky that I am able to make a phonecall to my sensei anytime I lose my way. This was not an option for those who went before me.
I find it quite strange myself that the question which prompted this article is able to irritate me so much, so to others I must appear very odd indeed. This question always arises anytime I am lucky enough to attend a training seminar or meet with practitioners of different schools. The question even popped up whilst I was being interviewed in Okinawa! I’ve no doubt that my fellow practitioners are trying to be helpful, as they are all able to advise me of another goju ryu dojo, or maybe even a shotokan or wado ryu dojo that could help me out. The thing is, I don’t need help regarding this. I am perfectly happy in my situation and think myself very lucky to have been given the opportunity to stand on my own two feet, and now that I have learned how to start taking small steps forward with these feet, I hope that my sensei will continue to be on hand from time to time to let me know if I start stumbling off in the wrong direction.
During training when you are lucky enough to have the help of a training partner to assist you with practising bunkai, it is very important not to take advantage of them.
Many times during application training, our training partner will be placed into a position where they will be unable to effectively to defend themselves from your strike due to their limbs being trapped or them being forced into an inferior position. At such times it is of vital importance that we display courtesy toward the other person and have control over our technique so as to not inflict any unnecessary injury. Taking advantage of such situations to get a sneaky hit on your partner is inexcusable and has no place in the dojo. Neither is a lack of control on your part an acceptable excuse for hurting the person trying to help you learn.
We all have families to go home to, and a job to attend the following day. It is unacceptable for a fellow practitioner to potentially lose their source of income due to your lack of control.
Of course there will be occasions where accidents might happen, but we should do our best to avoid such instances. On such occasions it is important to apologise to your training partner, make sure they are not injured, and then carry on training, putting the moment in the past.
Training should have realism, this is very important, and when training our strikes it is important to aim to hit the other person. The circumstances I am referring to are those times where your partner is unable to defend your attack due to the position you have placed them in.
Show a little courtesy and humility. This is practising karatedo.
