In Control of the Self

Hanging at the front of the Jundokan So-Honbu Dojo, just above the four golden principles and the Busaganashi, are two large calligraphy prints.

These prints read 究道無限 (kyūdōmugen) and 心身自在 (shinshinjizai).

On the left side of the dojo, we have 究道無限 (kyūdōmugen), the four characters of which can be broken down as follows:

From this, it is easy to understand that 究道無限 (kyūdōmugen) literally means “the road of research is never ending”, simply emphasising the continuous, ongoing state of our studying and understanding the art of Gojū-Ryū, no matter what level we reach.

On the other hand, we have 心身自在 (shinshinjizai), which is by far the deeper of the two phrases, and is thus what I want to focus on today.

First, let’s break down the four kanji characters used:

From this meaning alone, one can guess that 心身自在 (shinshinjizai) means “the heart and body exist within the self”. But what exactly does that entail?

In short, the overall meaning is something like “you are in control of your own body and mind”. But after a very productive talk with Miyakozawa-sensei of the Jundokan, I discovered that there are actually three distinct interpretations of this meaning.

1.) Don’t be influenced by others.

This interpretation is related to the Japanese word 動じる (dōjiru), which means “to be agitated” or “to be upset” by something or someone. In short, this idea refers to not being influenced emotionally by the actions or words of others around you, particularly in a way that might encourage you to act out physically in response (and thus use your karate in the wrong way).


2.) Keep control of your mind (emotions) and body (actions).

This interpretation is grounded in the idea of 不動心 (fudōshin), meaning “steadfastness”. It refers to “keeping calm” (e.g., during a fight) or “keeping a cool head” (e.g., in an emergency). In other words, it emphasises the importance of being able to control your emotions (and your body by extension) in times when you may be forced to use karate to defend yourself.

This is further related to an understanding of the term 自由自在 (jiyūjizai), meaning “flexibility” or “at will”. In this context, it refers to keeping your mind and body free and ready for anything that might happen in times of need (also see the second half of the first golden principle).


3.) Take responsibility for your own body and actions.

This interpretation is based a sense of autonomy and self-responsibility in one’s training, including inside the dojo. It is grounded in the Japanese word 自発的 (jihatsuteki), meaning “voluntary” or “of one’s own accord”, and refers to the idea of not waiting to be taught by your sensei or senpai, but rather taking the initiative to work on your own development.


I have wanted to write a blog on this topic for some time now, but have finally managed to do so as I think the meaning of 心身自在 (shinshinjizai) truly reflects the main focus of the recent Jundokan seminar commemorating the 70th anniversary of the founding of the Jundokan*, which was held in Okinawa from November 13~17th, 2024.

During this seminar, a lot of the instruction, particularly surrounding kata, was on learning and understanding the basic checkpoints for stances and hand positions. The idea behind which was, if you can understand how to check your own kata, you don’t need to wait for instruction from others, thus embodying the idea of taking control of your own actions and training.

The photos below, taken at the seminar, show Gima-sensei and Kinjo-sensei explaining some of the basic checkpoints from the kata.

In conclusion, both 究道無限 (kyūdōmugen) and 心身自在 (shinshinjizai) are more than just philosophical ideals; they’re a call to action for karate practitioners to embody continuous study, independence, resilience, and accountability in both their training and daily lives. By not being swayed by others, maintaining control over mind and body, and taking responsibility for personal growth, we not only deepen our understanding of karate, but also cultivate a way of life that reflects its true spirit.

Blake Turnbull © 2024

* The Nov. 2024 seminar also commemorated the 70th Memorial of Miyagi Chojun-sensei, and the 25th Memorial of Miyazato Eiichi-sensei.

Looking at the Long Run…

While the general public might see someone with a black belt as a “master of karate” who knows everything there is to know, those of us who train understand that this is far from the truth.

But it was during my most recent trip to train at the Jundokan, and through conversations with Gima-sensei and Kinjo-sensei, that I realised just how different this perspective can be even between Western and Okinawan practitioners.

Throughout my own training experiences, I have always been led to believe, and witnessed in numerous contexts, that instructors teach their kyu-grades little by little to ensure they take things one step at a time. Beginning with basics and stances, moving on basic kata patterns, refining those patterns so they can dissect and understand basic bunkai, and eventually, with enough understanding, moving on to develop one’s own, more practical oyo-bunkai.

This approach, of course, makes sense and is undoubtedly practiced in Okinawa as well. However, the key difference I’ve recently noticed is what happens after one earns their black belt…

Perhaps influenced by Hollywood portrayals or the common misconception of black belts as masters of karate, it seems that many black belt holders in the West are seen as ‘eligible’ (for lack of a better term) to learn without the constraints they faced as kyu-grades. In other words, there’s a sudden ‘no holds barred’ approach where black belts gain access to knowledge in a far less controlled manner than when they were coming up through the lower grades.

Of course, this might not apply to everyone, but based on my own encounters and experiences, earning a black belt often serves as a ticket to a more unrestricted learning experience in the West.

Personally, I believe this perspective arises from the recognition of how far a person has progressed in their training, serving as a reward for their efforts. Achieving a 2nd or 3rd dan is seen as a testament to one’s dedication and a validation of their understanding of the art. Many in the West view this accomplishment as earning the right to learn more freely, in contrast to the more structured approach typically applied when teaching kyu-grades.

However, recent conversations with some of the Jundokan masters have revealed to me a stark difference in how things are approached in Okinawa.

I remember Gima-sensei telling me some time ago that training in the old days was rooted in learning from your senpai. Ni-dans would teach the sho-dans, san-dans would teach the ni-dans, yon-dans would teach the san-dans, and so on. This was the first major difference I noticed between Western and Okinawan training styles; and while this tradition may not be as prevalent today, the mentality surrounding grades in this sense remains strong.

More recently, I’ve come to understand that (at least in the Jundokan) there is a significant distinction between sho-dans, ni-dans, san-dans, and yon-dans. While in the West, holders of these ranks might be seen as equally eligible to learn the same material, this is not the case in Okinawa. Through multiple conversations with the Jundokan masters, it has been strongly implied that sho-dans, ni-dans, and even san-dans are still relatively early in their training and may not yet be ready—or able to fully grasp—certain techniques or applications. This has led me to believe that the Okinawans perceive a clear difference between sho-, ni-, and san-dans as being at one level of understanding and ability, and those above as being at another, more advanced level.

I personally believe this perspective arises not so much from acknowledging how far one has progressed in their karate, as is often the case in the West, but rather from considering how much further they have yet to go. With decades of their own training and having learned from masters like Miyazato Ei’ichi-sensei and Iha Koshin-sensei—both of whom possessed extensive knowledge passed down from Miyagi Chojun-sensei—a sho-dan, ni-dan, or san-dan is still in the early stages of their journey in the eyes of today’s masters, Gima-sensei and Kinjo-sensei.

In summary, what I’ve gathered—whether accurate or not—is that the Okinawan perspective emphasizes not how far you’ve come in your training, but how much further you have yet to go. This outlook, acknowledging that there will always be more to learn no matter how much we progress, embodies a humility that can profoundly influence our approach to training.

What I love most about this perspective is that it encourages continuous growth and reminds us that mastery is a lifelong journey, not a destination. By embracing this mindset, we stay open to new lessons and remain dedicated to refining our practice, both inside the dojo and beyond.

Blake Turnbull © 2024

Disclaimer: The ideas expressed here are my personal interpretations based on conversations and experiences. They may not fully or accurately reflect the views or experiences of individuals in either the West or Okinawa.

The Birth of a New Core Memory

In February of this year, my wife and I took our son (1 year 8 months at the time) to Okinawa for the first time. Part of this was a short family holiday somewhere tropical over the winter, but another part of it was to introduce George to the members of the Jundokan So-honbu Dojo.

When we arrived at around 7pm one night, a crew of people were already waiting to greet us, including Kancho and his wife, Takako-sensei; Gima-sensei, Kinjo-sensei, Higa-sensei, and more.

George happily went to Takako-sensei who immediately picked him up, before he was passed around to other sensei too. Then he had free reign to wander around the historic dojo, touching legendary makiwara and chi-ishi, all under the watchful eye of some of the greatest karate masters in the world.

I remember watching this all unfold and taking a moment to appreciate just how lucky we were to be there, but also how incredibly kind and caring the Jundokan masters really are.

Here they were doting over my son—a one-year old child they had never met before—happily sharing their time chasing him, playing with him, and watching over him tear around their dojo. They took time out of their own training and entertain us as visitors, which is something I will forever be grateful for.

For George, he was simply happy to have people to play with, blissfully unaware of how highly-renowned they really were.  And if you didn’t know any better, it would be near impossible to tell.

But for me, this is one of the things that makes the Jundokan so special. There is no ego, no level of separation or distance between “them and us”. It is a family (as cheesy as that might sound!), and one that I am very happy and proud to be apart, and excited about the prospect that George too may one day decide to follow in their footsteps.

For half an hour, I watched Takako-sensei, Gima-sensei, Kinjo-sensei, Higa-sensei, and other members of the Jundokan run around after my son, interacting with him as if he was already a Jundokan member.

I’m confident this was the birth of a new core memory for George (it certainly was for me!).

I look forward to the day when George can train under the masterful support of those within the Jundokan walls, and so that he too might learn a level of humility and modesty that sets the Jundokan apart from anywhere else.

Knowing "why": A lesson in kata techniques

During my last trip to the Jundokan in June this year, I had an interesting (and always insightful) conversation with Gima-sensei that really resonated with me, and I wanted to share that with everyone here today.

We spoke about the necessity of not only understanding how to do the techniques in each kata but of understanding why we do them that way.

The example he gave was a technique from Suparinpei (in Gōjū-ryū), which he compared to a similar technique in Anan Dai (a kata found in Ryūei-ryū and Shitō-ryū, for example) in which, especially for tournaments, the index finger is held straight out in an ‘ippon nukite’ (one finger thrust), rather than a keikoken-tsuki (one knuckle fist) as in Goju-Ryu.

This can be seen in the photos below, comparing the Suparinpei of Miyakozawa-sensei from the Jundokan (left), and the Anan Dai of Ryo Kiyuna—Tokyo Olympic Gold Medalist, Team Japan (right):

(These photos were taken from these videos of Miyakozawa-sensei and Kiyuna Ryo).


Although these are different kata from different styles, Gima-sensei discussed how they are, in effect, the same technique. He laughed about the straight finger, saying: “there’s no point to that at all”.

The key concept Gima-sensei was pushing to me by saying that is:

If you can’t explain why you’re doing a technique a particular way, you should either (1) find out, or (2) stop doing it that way.

It got me thinking about whether I could explain why I was doing the techniques the way I was doing them—not just whether I knew the bunkai, but whether the way I was doing my techniques was supported by reason.

Gima-sensei explained that it can be very easy for someone to misunderstand a technique and then teach it wrongly to someone else who, in turn, learns it wrong and the cycle continues. This is especially the case for tournament kata, in which such kind mistakes that make no sense can creep in due to their flashy appeal for points.

This process is what leads karateka to perform kata that simply doesn’t make sense, and is the reason one can drift away from the traditional source.

(Photo taken from Travel 67: Chris Willson Photography.

It’s only when we start blindly following someone who doesn’t fully understand a technique themselves that we encounter problems. So, if you can’t explain why you’re doing your kata techniques the way you are, perhaps check with your teacher for advice. If neither of you can explain with convincing reason, it might be time to take a step back, return to the kata roots, and reconsider how you’re doing that technique.

Perhaps knowing why we do techniques a particular way is just as important as (if not, more than!) being able to perform them effectively (or ‘flashy’, for that matter).

The techniques in our kata have got to make sense. It’s as simple as that.

Blake Turnbull © 2022

The Kata Roller Coaster

Kata is the essence of karate. It helps us to refine their techniques, develop correct body mechanics, build muscle memory, and train our breathing. It takes years of hard-work, earnest practice, perseverance, and commitment to come anywhere close to mastering these age-old forms, hidden within which lie the fundamental principles and concepts of karate.

Sadly, when we practice the same kata for years on end, it can become easy to stop improving them. But when this happens, we might as well hang up our belts for good; karate is a never-ending path of research and self-improvement, after all.

While our kata never changes (being the ‘kiso’, or ‘foundation’ of all of our training), it certainly can continue to progress and develop for the better, regardless of how many years we’ve been doing it.

But making changes to one’s kata is, by no means, a simple task; and indeed, the longer one’s been practicing for, the more difficult it is to make adjustment and improvements.

Kata performance relies heavily on muscle memory in the execution of most stances and techniques, and so when it comes time to refine those techniques for the better, it can be difficult to make said alterations stick in the long term. Too easy is it to revert back to the old ways when left to one’s own accord to make these improvements.

And the reason is simple: making permanent improvements is difficult! It takes time and conscious thought and effort to implement, during which time, our kata is likely to suffer some “set-backs” as a result. 

But these apparent ‘deteriorations’ are, in fact, signs of improvement. Kata practice, and indeed, kata development, is full of ups and downs. This is what I call the “Kata Roller Coaster”.

Kata improvement cannot be represented through a direct ascending line. Rather, it is a combination of inclines and declines that represent improvements and periods of instability during which one works to consciously solidify a new refinement.

The following diagram is my representation of the Kata Roller Coaster:

In this diagram, the rising sections represent phases of growth and improvement; the peaks show new moments of learning, followed by the declines indicating periods of practice and deliberate thought before a new section of growth can begin again.

However, most importantly, despite a perceived ‘slip-back’ in one’s kata as a result of deliberate efforts to make refinements, it is important to note that, as a result of that very effort, the eventual outcome is a more polished kata than before.

Truth be told, the process of kata refinement is probably more like this:

But for the sake of argument, let’s keep it simple. 

So in short, it is crucial that, regardless of how long we’ve been practicing for, or doing a kata a particular way, we never become complacent and stop working to enhance that kata. We’re on a life-long path of practice, and if those masters from whom we learn continue to make refinements to their kata, why on earth should we ever stop?

It is important to remember that, with persistence and intentional effort to make desired refinements, any apparent ‘deteriorations’ in one’s kata are, in fact, the first step in enacting permanent improvements.

“An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backward. So when life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means that it's going to launch you into something great. So just focus, and keep aiming”. – Paulo Coelho.

Irrespective of grade, age, years training, or status, we must all ride the Kata Roller Coaster through setbacks and refinements to continue improving not only our kata, but ourselves along the way.

Blake Turnbull copyright ©2020

Akihiko Suzuki-sensei's Kata Explanations

As most dedicated practitioners will know, the essence of karate lies within its kata. Kata (形, or 型), meaning ‘form’, are a collection of martial art skills sequenced into a pattern, concealed in which lie the techniques that practitioners much analyse (“bunkai”) to discover their practical applications (see this blog post for insights into this).

The following is an explanation of the Goju-ryu kata that Akihiko Suzuki-sensei wrote during his time training at the Jundokan.

Akihiko Suzuki (Jan 11, 1934 — Mar 29, 2009) was a skilled disciple of Ei’ichi Miyazato-sensei who, after training at the Jundokan for many years, emigrated to the mainland where he was the first instructor to teach authentic Okinawa Goju-ryu in western Japan. 

These are Suzuki-sensei’s original writings explaining each Goju-ryu kata (taken from this website):

I will provide the Japanese text and my own original English translations for Suzuki-sensei’s explanations below:

形の種類と名称 

(基本)

(1) 三戦    (さんちん)

沖縄剛柔流空手の基本であり、正しい姿勢、正しい呼吸が最も大切である。昔三戦だけで3~5年も稽古を積んだと言われ、剛柔流空手は三戦に始まり三戦に終わると言われる所以である。

Kata types and names

(Kihon)

(1) Sanchin (Three Battles)

This is the foundation of Okinawa Goju-ryu Karate, in which correct posture and correct breathing are most important. It is said that students practiced Sanchin for three to five years in the past, and Goju-ryu karate is said to start and end with Sanchin.

(開手形)

(2)  撃砕一   (げきさいいち)

昭和16年宮城長順先生が初心者の為に考案され、上中下の攻防技を合理的に体系づけ、剛柔流の形の特徴を多く取り入れてある。

(Kaishugata)

(2) Gekisai-ichi     (Attack and Destroy 1)

Chojun Miyagi-sensei created this kata for beginners in 1941, rationally systematising the upper, middle, and lower offense and defense techniques, and incorporating many features of the Goju-ryu kata.

(3) 撃砕二   (げきさいに)

撃砕第一と同様宮城長順先生が考案され、形はほとんど同じであるが引き受け、猫足、虎口の高度な技が含まれている。

(3) Gekisai-ni     (Attack and Destroy 2)

This kata was created by Miyagi-sensei in the same way as gekisai dai-ichi, and is almost the same, but it includes advanced techniques such as hiki-uke (open-hand pull block), neko-ashi (cat-foot stance), and tora-guchi (tiger mouth).

(4) 砕破  (さいふあ)

演武時間の最も短い形であるが、拳鎚打ち、双手突き、外し技、裏突き、蹴り、足運び等難度の高い技が多い。

(4) Saifa     (Smash and Tear)

This is the kata with the shortest performance time, but there are many difficult techniques such as tetsui-uchi (hammer-fist), morote-tsuki (double strike), hazushi-waza (escapes), ura-tsuki (inverted close punch), keri (kicking), and ashi-hakobi (footwork).

(5) 制引戦   (せいゆんちん)

この形だけは蹴り技が無く、裏拳打ち応用変化があり、また四股立ちが多く下半身を鍛える為の力強い鍛練形である。

(5) Seiyunchin     (Control and Pull into Battle)

Only this kata has no kicking techniques. There are practical transformations such as uraken-uchi (back fist strikes), and it is a powerful training form to develop the lower-half of the body with many instances of shiko-dachi.

(6) 四向戦   (しそうちん)

掌底押し、貫手指頭突き、逆関節技、裏掛け受け、縦肘当てなど開手の技が多く含まれている。

(6) Shisochin       (Fight in Four Directions)

There are many open-hand techniques such as shote-oshi (palm-strike), nukite-shito (finger strike), gyaku kansetsu-gi (breaks), ura kake-uke (reverse hook block), and tate hiji-atate (vertical elbow strike).

(7) 三十六手  (さんせーるう)

足刀蹴り、追い蹴り、足取り、転身など実戦的な攻防の技が多く含まれていて弧受けの妙味をも教えている。

(7) Sanseru      (Thirty-six Hands)

This kata includes many practical offence and defence techniques such as sokuto-geri (heel kick), oi-geri (lunge kick), ashi-dori (leg grab), and tenshin (evasive body movement), and teaches the subtle point of ko-uke (AKA koken-uke, the wrist-joint block).

(8) 十ハ手   (せーぱい)

裏拳突き、裏拳打ち、拳鎚打ちなど接近戦に対処する打撃技、外し技など効果的な護身術が多く含まれている。また高度な欺瞞の術も含まれている。

(8) Sepai      (Eighteen Hands)

There are many effective self-defence techniques in this kata, such as uraken-tsuki and uraken-uchi (back fist strikes), tetsui-uchi (hammer fist) and other striking techniques to deal with close combat, as well as escape techniques. It also includes high-level deception techniques.

(9) 久留頓破  (くるるんふあ)

交差受け、膝蹴り受け、ハンマー投げなど猫の様に素早い動きと粘りある動きが調和され極めにくい動作を一挙にして極めるところに特徴がある。

(9) Kurunfa     (Holding on Long and Suddenly Striking)

This kata is characterised by quick movements and sticky movements, such as kosa-uke (AKA jyuji-uke, the crossing block), hiza geri-uke (knee kick block), and hanmaa-nage (hammer throw), which are difficult to master and preform harmoniously at once.

(10) 十三手   (せーさん)

ゆっくりとした動作から素早い足捌きの動作に移り、突き受けの連続技があり、剛と柔が調和された変化のある形である。

(10) Sesan       (Thirteen Hands)

This is a kata that shifts from slow motions to quick footwork, has a series of tsuki-uke (striking block) techniques, and changes that harmonise the ‘go’ (hardness) and ‘ju’ (softness).

(11) 壱百零八手 (すうぱありんぺい)(ぺっちゅうりん)

別名ぺっちゅうりんとも言う、上・中・下の三つの形で構成されていたと伝えられる。現在の壱百零八手は上で剛柔流の形で最も長く四方八方へ多彩の技を駆使し遅速緩急が多く非常に妙味があり魅力がある。剛柔流の奥義が伺える形である。

(11) Suparinpei (One Hundred Eight Hands)

This kata is also called Pecchurin. It is said that it was composed of three forms: upper, middle, and lower. The current Suparinpei is the longest of the Goju-ryu katas, making full use of various techniques in all directions, with many different speeds and has a lot of charm and attraction. It is a kata in which one can discover the hidden purpose of Goju-ryu.

(閉手形) 

(12) 転掌    (てんしょう)

宮城長順先生が大正4年に中国拳法を研究する目的で福建省福州を訪ねた際、南派少林拳白鶴拳の六合壱機手(略して六機手)を研究されて考案し閉手形とした。臍下丹田に力を集中し気息体の修練を目的とすることは三戦と全く同じである。正しい姿勢と呼吸によって開掌で各種の受け方、掌底の当て方などを体得する。

(Heishugata)

(12) Tensho (Revolving Palms)

When Miyagi Chojun-sensei visited Fuzhou in the Fujian Province to study Chinese kempo in 1915, he learnt the Southern School Shaolin White Crane Boxing's ‘Rokugo Ikkishu’ (shortened to Rokkishu) and devised the heishugata. It is exactly the same as Sanchin, with the aim of concentrating power on the stomach’s navel and training one’s breathing. With the right posture and breathing, one can learn various ways of receiving and striking with the bottom of the palm with open hands.

Blake Turnbull copyright ©2020

Miyagi Chojun's Karate-do Kun

At the rear of the Jundokan dojo in Okinawa hangs a long, horizontal framed work of calligraphy that depicts the words of Miyagi Chojun-sensei and his thoughts on what karate is.

It is entitled Miyagi’s ‘Karate-do Kun’, meaning something along the lines of “the spirit/principle of karate” (similar to how a ‘dojo kun’ is the spirit or principle of a given dojo).

The above picture from the Jundokan reads as follows:

宮城長順先生

空手道訓

空手とは何ぞや

曰く、身に寸鉄を帯びず、平時に於ては心胆を練り、寿康を計り、急に際しては身を護るの術也。即ち多くの場合肉弾を以て敵を倒すことを原則とす。然りと雖も機に臨み変に応じ器物を併用することに亦無きに非ず。

(Miyagi Chojun Sensei

Karate-do Kun

Karate to wa nani zo ya.

Iwaku mi ni suntetsu wo obizu, heiji ni oite wa shintan wo neri, jukō wo hakari, kyū ni sai shite wa mi wo mamoru no jutsu nari. Sunawachi ōku no baai nikudan wo motte teki wo taosu koto wo gensoku to su. Shikari to iedomo ki ni nozomi, hen ni ōji kibutsu wo heiyō suru koto ni mata naki ni arazu.)

I have translated this into English as follows:

Miyagi Chojun Sensei

Karate-do Kun (the principle/spirit of karate)

What is Karate?

In ordinary times, it is an art in which to cultivate one's spirit and physical health, and in times of an emergency, it is a way of protecting oneself without carrying a weapon. That is, in many cases, we principally fight with our bodies to defeat our opponents; however, according to the timing and circumstance, it is not impossible to use implements as well.

There are a few important things to note here.

After a long discussion with Higa Kazuya-sensei of the Jundokan about this message, one of the key points he emphasised was the double negative at the very end (i.e., “not impossible”). Here, 無きに非ず (naki ni arazu) (a shortening of 無きにしも非ず (naki ni shimo arazu)) means ‘it is not the case that it is not’; namely, it is not the case that you cannot use weapons (thus a double negative). In other words, although it is not the first choice (to use tools in a fight), is it also not out of the question.

Another important point that Higa-sensei explained to me is that the term ‘implements’ or ‘equipment’ (器物, ‘kibutsu’) here could refer to anything, not just  ‘weapons’ as we know them such as ‘sai’ or ‘bō’. it could equally refer to whatever you can get your hands on at the time of an ‘emergency’, including things such as stones on the ground, the belt around your waist, a branch from a tree, etc. This is also a part of the Jundokan’s 「身随時應變」 (read as ‘shin zuiji ōhen’) golden principle (meaning “your body must always change in response to the situation”), that hangs at the front of the dojo (see here for more details).

Although this Karate-do Kun hangs in the Jundokan dojo (see photo above), it is actually the start of the introduction to an essay written by Chojun Miyagi-Sensei and presented at the Meiji Shoten in  Sakaisuji, Osaka, on January 28th, 1936. The original title of this essay is “Ryukyu Kenpo Karatedo Enkaku Gaiyo” (琉球拳法唐手道沿革概要), which means “An Overview of the History of Ryukyu Kempo Karatedo”, although it is often shortened to just “Karatedo Gaisetsu” (唐手道概説), meaning “An Outline of Karate”. 

Although only the above message hangs in the Jundokan, the second half of of Miyagi’s Karatedo Gaisetsu introduction reads as follows:

世人往々にして拳骨に依り五分板を重ねて割り、或は数枚の瓦石を砕くを見て唐手の本体と誤想するものあり。これ術修練の一端にして寧ろ末技のみ。道の妙諦は遥かに一般武道と相通ずる教外別伝、不立文字の極致に於て会得せらる可きもの也。

(Sejin ōō ni shite genkotsu ni yori gobuita wo kasanete wari, aruiwa sūmai no gaseki wo kudaku wo mite karate no hontai to gosō suru mono ari. Kore jutsu shūren no ippashi ni shite mushiro matsugi nomi. Michi no myōtei wa haruka ni ippan budō to ai tsūzuru kyōgebechiden, furyūmonji no kyokuchi ni oite etoku seraru yoki mono nari).

And here is my English translation:

People often see the breaking of five wooden boards or the smashing of roof tiles with one’s bare fists and misunderstand this to be the true form of karate. However, this is only a minor part of karate. Like other martial arts, the essence of karate can be understood as the ultimate goal of enlightenment that cannot be experienced with words.

In short, the overall message that we can take away from Miyagi-sensei’s words here is simple: while one will fundamentally fight an opponent with bare hands, but it is also possible to use equipment depending on the situation, and the true essence of karate is enlightenment, not the mere display of exhibition techniques.

Blake Turnbull copyright ©2020

How to build hojo-undo tools #5: Makiwara

This is the fifth in a series of blogs about how to build hojo-undo training tools (you can find the first four here: chi’ishi, sashi-ishi, ishi-sashi, and tan).

Once again, I must start by giving credit to PJ Turnbull for building all of the tools in this series - without his skills and innovation, none of this would have been possible.

This time we will look at  how to make a makiwara.

The makiwara (巻藁, literally meaning ‘wound straw’) is a fundamental supplementary training tool for any karateka. Contrary to popular western belief, the main purpose of a makiwara is not just to toughen one’s fists and build calluses on one’s knuckles; rather, the main purpose of makiwara training is to learn how to generate power effectively. 

Below are photos of Chojun Miyagi-Sensei, and Ei’ichi Miyazato-Sensei, and Tetsu Gima-Sensei with makiwaras.

In Okinawan karate dojos, makiwara are often installed directly into the dojo floor, usually concerted in a metre or so below the surface for stability (see pictures of the Jundokan’s makiawara below as an example).

However, particularly for those of us who do not have a permanent dojo space, and perhaps rent local halls instead, it is not always possible to install a makiawara in this way.

The purpose of this blog post is thus to provide a step-by-step guide of how to produce a portable, stand-alone makiawara for use in more temporary dojo spaces.

I will explain how to build two different types of makiwara: one from a single piece of timber (creating a more sturdy makiwara), and one from multiple pieces (creating a more flexible makiwara).

Note: given that a solid base is required that is not built into the floor, there is unfortunately no ‘simple’ option that can easily be made at home. This guide thus utilises a metal base holder that was welded together.

Makiwara 1: A Single Post

Materials:

  • Wooden post (1500mm tall x 95mm wide x 95mm thick)

  • Large wooden board (2400mm tall x 1200mm wide x 18mm thick)

  • Padded cover

  • Steel frame holder (100mm x 100mm, 220mm tall)

  • Steel frame foundation (400mm 400mm)

Method:

The makiwara is essentially a tapered post with a stable base. The strongest way to make this is from a single piece of timber, which I will explain below.

① Start with a slightly longer piece of solid timber (the height can be shortened at the end if necessary), approximately 1500mm tall x 95mm wide x 95mm thick. 

② First, put the timber through a planner machine to ensure a consistent thickness along all surfaces.

③ Next, you must decide the desired thickness for the tapered top. I would suggest a thickness of 20mm.

④ Turn your post on its side and, using a circular saw, cut a gradual line from your 20mm tapered top to the opposite corner of the base.

You will (should!) be left with a nicely tapered post like this, where the bottom is 95mm narrowing evenly to 20mm at the top:

⑤ For the base holder, you will need to weld a frame out of steel, consisting of a square slot (100mm x 100mm, 220mm tall) connected to a flat foundation (400mm x 400mm).

Note 1: Because of the thickness of the steel, the size of the square slot on the inside will be approx 95mm.

Note 2: Position the frame towards one end of the steel base as this will add greater stability later when it is inserted into the wooden base.

This is by far the most difficult part of the process, and is perhaps the only part for which  professional help may be required if you do not have welding materials, tools, or skills.

⑥ Take your large wooden base (2400mm x 1200mm) and sand it down to ensure it is smooth and safe to stand on.

⑦ Cut your board down to 1500mm x 900mm, which will be the ‘top’ base, and put the left over pieces aside. These will be used to build the ‘bottom’ base later.

⑧ Cut a square hole in the top base the same size as your steel square slot (100mm x 10mm), and insert the frame from underneath.

⑨ With the left over pieces of wood that you set aside in step ⑦, create another sheet of wood 1500mm x 900mm that will be the ‘bottom’ base.

⑩ In the bottom base, cut a shallow hole the same depth as the steep frame foundation that you made in step ⑤ (400mm x 400mm). This will be used to cradle the steel foundation when the top and bottom bases are merged to avoid any unbalance.

⑪ With the steel frame in-between, sandwich the top and bottom bases together with glue, and connect them with screws for strength. This will produce a single base, 1500mm x 900mm, and 36mm thick (2x 18mm).

Note: It is best to insert the screws from the bottom up so that they cannot be seen from the top.

⑫ Add a leather pad to the top.

Although Makihara were originally wound with straw to soften the punch and protect your hand, nowadays it is more common (and indeed more hygienic, according to Gima-sensei of the Jundokan) to use leather pads. I would recommend one like this from Shureido.

⑬ Insert the makiwara into the steel holding frame.

⑭ Start training.

Makiwara 2: Multiple Posts

Materials:

  • Wooden posts (all 95mm wide x 18mm thick)

    • 1x 1500mm tal

    • 1x 1150mm tall (tapering from 800mm to 0mm at the top)

    • 1x 700mm tall

    • 1x 300mm tall

    • 1x 200mm tall

  • Large wooden board (2400mm tall x 1200mm wide x 18mm thick)

  • Padded cover

  • Steel frame holder (100mm x 100mm, 220mm tall)

  • Steel frame foundation (400mm 400mm)

Method:

Many of the steps involved in the the multiple post method are the same as in the single post method, so I will simply cover those that are different here.

① Combine all of the wooden pieces in descending order with strong glue, and hold together tightly with clamps overnight (24–48 hours).

② Once they have been combined, you will (should!) be left with a multi-multi-layered post like this:

③ As with the single post method, you will need to weld a base holder frame out of steel (100mm x 100mm, 220mm tall).

④  As with the single post method, you will need to make a top and bottom base out of your 2400mm tall x 1200mm wide wooden board (each 1500mm x 900mm), between which you will sandwich your steel foundation and holder. Remember to cut a shallow hole in the bottom base to fit your 400mm x 400mm steel foundation to avoid any unbalances.

⑤ Insert your steel through the top board so that it is sticking out, and glue the bottom base on.

Remember to add screws from the bottom side up to avoid seeing them on the top surface.

⑥ Insert the multi-layered post into the base holder.

⑦ Add a leather pad to the post for protection.

While I would again recommend this one from Shureido, other options are also available, such as the one shown in the photo above.

⑧ Start training.

How to build hojo-undo tools #4: Tan

This is the fourth in a series of blogs about how to build hojo-undo training tools (you can find the first three here: chi’ishi, sashi-ishi, ishi-sashi).

Once again, I must start by giving credit to PJ Turnbull for building all of the tools in this series - without his skills and innovation, none of this would have been possible.

This time we will look at how to make a tan.

The tan (担, meaning ‘to shoulder’ or ‘to carry on one’s back’) is a barbell-like tool, consisting of a wooden (or sometimes metal) handle with stone (or metal) weights on both ends. A tan is used to build strength in one’s arms, shoulders, legs, etc.

A video of Kinjo-sensei and Gima-sensei using the Tan can be found here, as well as videos of Jundokan members using it here and here.

I will explain how to make a tan below.

Materials:

  • Solid wooden pole (1400mm long x 35mm thick)

  • Small piece of wooden pole (75mm long x 35mm thick)

  • Concrete

  • Round bucket (approximately 270mm in diameter)

  • Wooden peg (70mm long) x2

  • Rope

Method:

① Start by cutting off a small piece your solid wooden pole approximately 75mm long.

② Place this in the centre of your bucket, and screw it in place from the underside. This will be used to make the hole in your concrete weight through which your pole will be inserted.

Note: it is best to grease the block with Vaseline to ensure it is easier to pop out later.

③ Mix the concrete according to the instructions on the bag, and fill the bucket up to the top of the wooden piece you have screwed in place (75mm high). If possible, it is best if you can use a bucket with straight walls to ensure a straight-edged weight is produced, although this is not necessary.

④ Allow to dry thoroughly (48 hours).

⑤ Unscrew the wooden piece from the bucket and take the concrete block out. It is worth allowing it to dry outside of the bucket for a further 24 hours before popping the wooden piece out to create the hole through which the pole will be inserted.

Note: When knocking out the block, it is better to knock it to the inside so that any rough edges can easily be covered by the rope later on. You must also be very careful and knock it out gently, as the concrete can easily break. Any gaps/holes left after the mould has been removed can be filled with plaster.

⑥ Repeat steps ② to ⑤ to produce a second concrete block.

⑦ Insert your solid wooden pole into both concrete blocks.

⑧ Leave a distance of approximately 35mm between each concrete block and end of the pole. This space will be used to insert the wooden peg that will hold the block in place..

⑨ Cut a hole in the wooden pole that will be used to insert the peg (approximately 6mm wide).

⑩ Shape a slightly tapered wooden peg (approximately 70mm long) to fit tightly into the hole like so:

Note: It is important that you shape the peg (through whittling and sanding) to fit the hole and not the other way around. It should fit snugly and be pushed in with a hammer to ensure it is tight.

⑪ Insert the peg into the hole to hold the concrete block in place.

⑫ Attach rope to the other side of the concrete block, and hold it in place with silicone.

This will be used to help keep the concrete block from moving up the pole.

⑬ Start training.

Kinjo-sensei and Gima-sensei showing one use of the tan in pairs

How to build hojo-undo tools #3: Ishi-sashi

This is the third in a series of blogs I am writing about how to build hojo-undo training tools (you can find the first two here: chi’ishi and sashi-ishi).

I must start again by giving credit to PJ Turnbull for building all of the tools in this series - without his skills and innovation, none of this would have been possible!

Ishi-sashi (石錠, meaning, ‘stone padlock’), also sometimes known simply as ‘sashi’, are a stone or concrete hand weight, similar to the modern kettlebell. They are used to help develop hand, wrist, arm and shoulder strength

A video of Gima-sensei using ishi-sashi at the Jundokan can be found here.

I will explain, step-by-step, how to make ishi-sashi below.

Materials:

  • 12mm ply-wood (see below for cut-out shapes)

  • Solid wooden pole (25–30mm thick, 200mm long)

  • Cement

  • Screws (or nails)

  • Wire 

Method:

① Start by cutting the wood into the necessary shapes and sizes shown in the materials section above.

② Piece together sections ❶, ❷, and ❺ as follows:

Note: When screwing the wood together, it pays to pre-drill it so that the wood doesn’t split.

③ Join up the other side using the same sections. Split section ❹ in half horizontally (see dotted line in materials section) and add the top half as shown in the photo below. Finally add section ❻ on top.

④ Next, take your wooden pole and insert a screw vertically into either end. Twist wire around them in a square shape to create a handle-like formation like so:

Note: The wire is to help strengthen the concrete.

⑤ Turn your mould upside down and insert the handle in the centre.

⑥ Add the bottom half of section ❹ to each side, locking the handle in place. Seal off the gap between the pole and wire with section ❸ of the wood to complete the mould like so:

You will (should!) be left with the following completed mould:

Note: You really only need to think about the inside shape, and this is what the final product will look like. Even if the outside is oddly shaped, so long as the inside is neat and the joints tightly sealed, you will produce a nice ishi-sashi.

⑦ Mix the concrete according to the instructions on the bag, and pour into the mould.

Note: It is better if the concrete is slightly wetter than normal so that it fills all the gaps right to the bottom of the mould.

⑧ Allow to dry fully (48 hours is best).

⑨ Remove the wooden mould from around the concrete to produce your final product.

Note: Any gaps/holes left after the mould has ben removed can be filled with plaster.

⑩ Sand off any rough parts (particularly along the edges that may have contact with your wrist while holding them in certain ways).

⑪ For an added (optional) aesthetic touch, place some rope at the end of the pole where it meets the concrete, and hold it in place with glue or silicone.

⑫ Start training.

How to build hojo-undo tools #2: Sashi-Ishi

This is the second in a series of blogs I am writing about how to build hojo-undo training tools (the first, about how to build chi’ishi, can be found here).

I must start again by giving credit to PJ Turnbull for building all of the tools in this series - without his skills and innovation, none of this would have been possible!

We will look below at how to make sashi-ishi.

Sashi-ishi (差し石) shares the same meaning as ‘a stone with something put in it’ (although it uses different kanji), but, as Ei’ichi Miyazato-sensei explains in this video, it actually means ‘stone that you lift up’ (‘Sashi’ is an abbreviation of ‘sashi-ageru’ (差し上げる), meaning ‘to lift up’). Sashi-ishi are often overlooked in Western dojos as a training tool, but are important kigu used to train the arms, lats, legs, and groin muscles.

A video of Gima Tetsu-sensei using the sashi-ishi at the Jundokan can be found here.

I will explain how to make two different types of sashi-ishi below.

Type 1: Concrete Ball

Materials:

  • Solid wooden pole (25–30mm thick, 550mm long)

  • Old basketball 

  • Concrete

  • Sandbox 

Method

① Start with an old basketball (or a ball of similar size) that you no longer need (as it will get destroyed in the process).

② Cut a hole in the top of the basketball which will be used to fill the ball with concrete. Remember: don’t cut the hole too big as this will inevitably leave a flat part in the ball, although this can come in handy later on to keep the sashi-ishi from moving when placed on the ground.

③ Cut holes in either side of the ball directly opposite each other. These are the holes through which your pole will be thread, so it must be the same size as your pole is thick (usually around 25–30mm).

④ Insert the pole into the ball so that it comes out the hole on the other side.

⑤ In your sandbox, make a mould into which you will place your basketball. 

The point of the sandbox mould is to cradle the ball while the concrete dries so that it does not end up with a flat bottom like it would if placed on a solid surface.

⑥ Mix the concrete according to the instructions on the bag, and carefully pour it into the ball through the hole you created in step ②.

It may be easier to use an old cup or something similar to help funnel the concrete into the ball, as in the photo above.

⑦ Leave to dry over night (24–48 hours)

⑧ Cut away the basketball cover to reveal your complete sashi-ishi concrete ball.

⑨ Smooth off any rough parts left behind from the pattern of the ball.

⑩ For an added (optional) aesthetic touch, place some rope at the base of the pole where it meets the concrete ball, and hold it in place with glue or silicone

⑪ Start training.

Note: This final product weighed approximately 12kg, so if you would like something heavier, you may wish to add extra weight (stones etc.) inside the ball whilst pouring your concrete.

Type 2: Rock

Materials:

  • Large rock

  • Metal rod (approx. 12mm thick) - (this one was aluminium and hollow)

  • Solid wooden pole (25–30mm thick, 160mm long) x2

  • Silicone

Method:

① You must start by finding a suitable rock. Check to ensure that it is the correct weight (for reference, the sashi-ishi in the Jundokan is about 20kg, but anything from 10-15kg will be fine), correct size, and of an evenly-balanced shape.

② Take your large rock and drill a hole with a dynadrill through the centre of it the same width as your metal rod.

③ Insert the metal rod and fix in place with silicone for security.

④ Drill a hole in your wooden pole the same width as the metal rod.

Make sure you do not drill the entire way through - stop just before the end.

⑤ Slide the wooden poles over the steel rod on either end of the stone, and hold in place with silicone.

Note: It is best to try shaping the wooden handles to the surface of the rock to avoid having any gaps when they join (also see step ⑦ below).

⑥ Allow to dry over night (24 hours)

⑦ Particularly as the rock may not have an even surface, it is a good idea to add rope to where the wooden pole meets the rock to help cover the join with glue or silicone (purely aesthetic!).

⑧ Start training.

How to build hojo-undo tools #1: Chi'ishi

This is the first in a series of blogs I will be writing about how to build various hojo-undo training tools.

I must start by giving credit to PJ Turnbull for building all of the tools in this series - without his skills and innovation, none of this would have been possible!

We will begin with how to make a chi’ishi.

Chi’ishi (鎚石, meaning ‘stone mallet’), is a concrete weight attached to a wooden pole. The practitioner moves the chi’ishi in certain patterns to strengthen their fingers, hands, arms, shoulder, lats, and legs through squatting.

See videos here and here of Gima-sensei and Kinjo-sensei respectively using chi’ishi in the Jundokan.

I will explain, step-by-step, how to make a chi’ishi below.

Materials:

  • Solid wooden pole (25–30mm thick) (broom handles work best!)

  • Bucket (various sizes depending on the desired weight - see below)

  • Cement

  • Screws (or nails) x 8

  • Wire (optional, but recommended)

Method:

① Start by deciding how long you want your handle to be (remembering that you will also have a concrete block on the end, between 50–100mm high). You will generally have a handle between 400–450mm (best to start larger, and then trim it back if necessary once complete).

② You must then decide how thick you want the concrete block on your chi’ishi to be. The general guide I have from my own experience is:

  • 65mmH x 115mmW = 1.5kg

  • 90mmH x 140mmW = 2.5kg

  • 80mmH x 180mmW = 4kg

  • 45mmH x 255mmW = 5kg

③ Once decided, measure out and draw a line on the inside of your bucket like so.

④ Measure out and draw the same line at the end of one of your wooden poles.

⑤ In the space between this line and the end of your pole, insert the screws (or nails) at random angles and intervals, which will be used to ensure the concrete stays on safely.

⑥ Check to ensure that the screws are in far enough so that they will still fit inside the bucket below your line, and will not be touching the sides.

⑦ For extra stability, tangle some wire around the screws like so:

⑧ Add a small hole in the middle of the bottom of the pole, and insert a screw into the bottom of the bucket like so:

This is to hold the stick off of the bottom of the bucket so that the concrete block can form all the way around. The screw will later be removed.

⑨ Mix the concrete according to the instructions provided on the bag, and pour into the bucket up to the line you decided in step ①. Make sure your pole is straight when you do so.

⑩ Leave to dry overnight (24–48 hours).

⑪ Remove the chi’ishi from the bucket and allow to further dry in the open air. Also smooth off the rough edges.

⑫ For an added (optional) aesthetic touch, place some rope at the base of the pole where it meets the concrete block, and hold it in place with glue or silicone.

⑬ Run a blow-torch over the rope to remove any straggly pieces for neatness.

⑭ For the safety of your floor, you may wish to attach a rubber or foam pad to the bottom of your chi’ishi like so:

⑮ Start training.

Remember: Different size buckets will result in different size and therefore different weight chi’ishi, so it may take some playing around to find the size which fits you best.

For smaller chi’ishi, use a shorter pole (around 300mm long) to maintain a good concrete:stick ratio.

Budo Mountain

After a recent discussion with Oshiro Zenei-Sensei (an old student of Ei’ichi Miyazato-Sensei, now living in Paris), and Jenni Molloy-Sensei of the Jundokan Leeds Tsuyoikokoro Dojo, at the Jundokan 2019 end-of-year party, I would like to share the following idea of his about the Budo Mountain…

Oshiro-Sensei explained the concept of how all of the different martial art (budo) forms (e.g.: Karate, Judo, Kendo, Aikido, etc.) and each respective style and school (e.g.: Goju-Ryu, Shotokan, Shorin-Ryu, etc.) belong to a single ‘mountain’. The goal of each art is to ‘climb the mountain’, or master the art, by developing a deep understanding of the principles involved through years of hard training, effort, and perseverance.

Each art and style begins at a different point around the base of the Budo Mountain. Practitioners of each style all see the point of the mountain in front of them as different because of the different ‘scenery’ (or style) at each location. It is not until they climb that mountain over many years that they realise the scenery begins to look more and more similar as the mountain gets higher and narrower. Finally, once they reach the summit after many years of climbing, they realise they’ve all been on the same mountain together the whole time.

This, Oshiro-Sensei said, is what Budo is all about. Everyone who begins a new martial art style starts out believing theirs is different from all others. As they work their way through their own training, they come to see similarities between their style and that of others, and finally, after many years of training and mastering their own art, they realise that Budo is Budo, and we’re all just doing the same thing.

I think these are wise and important words to keep in mind as we engage in our own training and watch that of others. Reaching the ultimate summit of the Budo mountain, that is, mastering the art completely, is very difficult and, indeed, most of us will never achieve it.

What we can do, however, as we walk our own path up the mountain is train our minds, bodies and spirits, develop practical self-defense skills, and, perhaps most importantly, establish and strengthen companionship and camaraderie with others who walk alongside us.

At the end of the day, regardless of the art, style, or school, we’re all climbing the same Budo Mountain… so why not do it together?

In true budo there is no enemy or opponent. True budo is to become one with the universe, not train to become powerful or to throw down some opponent. Rather we train in hopes of being of some use, however small our role may be, in the task of bringing peace to mankind around the world. - Morihei Ueshiba (Founder of Aikido)

Blake Turnbull copyright ©2019

The Golden Principles of the Jundokan

For those who have trained at the Jundokan So-Honbu Dojo, you may have noticed the four black boards engraved with golden writing that hang vertically at the front (shomen) of the dojo.

I have long been interested in their meaning and significance to our training, so I decided to do some research of my own, combined with a number of long discussions with Higa-Sensei, and would like to share these unique golden principles that underline the spirit of the Jundokan for all to know. 

It is worth noting that not all Japanese people can read these signs and immediately understand their meanings. It requires a solid understanding of the training principles involved and the ability to interpret the meanings through such a lens. I was incredibly lucky to be able to discuss these concepts, largely with Higa-sensei, but also with Gima-Sensei and Takako-Sensei, and based on their interpretations, I feel confident in what I have written here to share with you all.

Firstly, here are the writings, seen as they hang in the Jundokan from right to left (as Japanese is read) on the front wall:

To delve into their meanings, I will first split the messages on each board up to look at the individual meanings of each kanji character, and then put them back together based on Higa-Sensei’s interpretation to reveal their overall message…

1.) 法呑吐剛柔 身随時應變

The first board, hanging at the far right of the dojo, is unique in that it actually depicts two shorter principles on a single board. I will examine them both in separation for clarity.

The Characters:

The message on the top half of the board reads: 法呑吐剛柔 (hō donto gōjū). The individual meanings of these characters are as follows:

The message on the lower half of the board reads: 身随時應變 (shin zuiji ōhen). The meanings of these characters are as follows: (Note: in some cases, the characters are written in their old Chinese style, so I have also provided the modern Japanese equivalent in brackets)

The Meanings:

(1) 法呑吐剛柔 (ほうどんとごうじゅう, read as ‘hō donto gōjū’) means: “The method of inhaling and exhaling is both hard and soft”.

Particularly for Goju-Ryu practitioners, this one is fairly straight forward. The message is in-line with the origin of the name of Goju Ryu Karate, which Chojun Miyagi-Sensei based on the third line of the Eight Important Precepts of Kempo” (拳法之大要八句= Kenpo no taiyoku hakku). It is also found in the foundation katas Sanchin and Tensho, which combine various types of hard and soft breathing methods. This message therefore helps us to stay focussed on these foundational kata as we continue to grow in our own training.

(2) 身随時應變(しんずいじおうへん, read as ‘shin zuiji ōhen’) means: “Your body must always change in response (to the situation)”.

In this message, the second two characters (随時, zuiji) mean ‘always’ or ‘at anytime’, but can also be translated as ‘as needed’. Hence, the overall meaning here is to handle each case appropriately, according to the particular situation.

As Higa-sensei explained to me, this means being able to read the situation at hand and adapt to it in response. He added, in addition to your karate techniques, it may also require, for example, the use of tools (rocks, sticks, weapons, your own obi, etc.) to protect yourself, or perhaps even for you to run away if the situation calls for it. The key point in this message is to thus always be adaptable and willing/ready to change yourself and your techniques in accordance with the situation you are faced with.

I think this concept is also reflected in one of the precepts in Miyazato Eiichi-Sensei’s Dojo-Kun, which states:

  • Be calm in mind and swift in action = 沈着平静にして敏捷自在なれ (‘chinchaku heisei ni shite binshō jizai nare’)

Thus, only by keeping a calm mind and being quick in what you do will you be able to react in accordance with the conditions of each situation to defend yourself.

2.) 武道須有武徳義重藝不重

The Characters:

This message, hanging on the centre right, reads: 武道須有武徳義重藝不重 (budō sunawachi butoku gi jū gei fujū). The individual meanings of these characters are as follows:

Screenshot 2019-12-16 at 12.31.37.png

The Meaning:

武道須有武徳義重藝不重(ぶどうすなわちぶとくぎじゅうげいふじゅう, read as ‘budō sunawachi butoku gi jū gei fujū’) means: “In budō , i.e., in martial virtue, technique is valued less than righteousness”.

In this message, the main idea is that the way of martial arts is to place more emphasis on your own morality and righteousness than on your technique or skill. Higa-Sensei was quick to point out that this does not mean placing no importance on your technique - the ‘art’ of your martial arts is still important, he said, just less so than on your own character and heart.

Higa-Sensei summarised this in Japanese as “義を重んじて、芸を重んぜず (gi wo omonjite, gei wo omonnzezu)”, which in English means: “Place emphasis on righteousness and not on the art”. In other words, righteousness is the most important thing; technique comes second to that, but is also still important and valued in itself.

The reading of some characters in this message are unusual, and had it not been for my discussions with Higa-Sensei, who has experience in Japanese calligraphy, it would have been impossible to know that the characters 須有 are read as ‘sunawachi’ (which means ‘namely’, ‘that is’, or ‘i.e.’). Using this information, I have therefore translated this message as “In budo, i.e., in martial virtue”… which views ‘budō’ (the martial way) and ‘butoku’ (the martial virtue) as being the same thing.

However, if we look at these two characters in isolation, we can see that 須 (su) means ‘must’, and 有 (yū) means ‘to have’. So, another interpretation of the message could, in fact, be: “In budo, you must have martial virtue, which places emphasis on righteousness and not on technique”.

Given my discussions with Higa-Sensei, however, I think both of these are perfectly valid interpretations of the overall principle embedded within this message, so I’ll leave the final interpretation up to you.

3.) 自知翎毛短不敢遠髙飛

The Characters:

This message, which hangs on the centre left, reads: 自知翎毛短不敢遠髙飛 (jichi shōmō tan fu kan en kō hi). The individual meanings of these characters are as follows:

Screenshot 2019-12-16 at 12.34.24.png

The Meaning:

自知翎毛短不敢遠髙飛(じちしょうもうたんふかんえんこうひ, read as ‘jichi shōmō tan fu kan en kō hi’) is a complicated message with a lot to unpack. To poetically translate this, it could mean: “You cannot fly far with short feathers”, but the underlying principle is much deeper.

The first two characters in this message mean ‘know yourself’, and this, as Higa-Sensei explained, is the most important part. The fundamental aspect of this principle is that you cannot succeed in your training without knowing who you are. Here, “knowing yourself" refers to the Japanese concept of 謙遜 (kenson), meaning ‘humbleness’, ‘humility’, or ‘modesty’.

The metaphorical message here is that birds with short feathers cannot spread their wings to fly high. Thus, if your feathers are still short, that is, if you are immature and inexperienced in your training, you cannot expect to achieve more than what you are capable of. Rather, you must keep humility and modesty in your training, hence why knowing yourself, and your level of comprehension and ability, is very important.

In other words, this message means ‘know yourself and stay modest by not trying to fly higher than you can’.

Interestingly, I believe this concept can be found in three of the eight precepts in Miyazato Eiichi-Sensei’s Dojo-Kun:

  • Be mindful of your courtesy with humbleness = 謙虚にして礼儀を重んぜよ (‘kenkyo ni shite reigi wo omonzeyo’)

  • Live a plain and simple life = 質素な生活をせよ (‘shisso na seikatsu wo seyo')

  • Do not be too proud of yourself = 我心せぬこと (‘gashin senu koto’)

The fact that three of the eight percepts hold such similar underlying messages really shines a light on the importance of holding humility and remaining modest in our training of Okinawa Goju-Ryu.

4.) 尊藝必先尊師授輕學莫輕

The Characters:

This message, hanging on the far left, reads: 尊藝必先尊師授輕學莫輕 (son gei hissen son shi ju kei gaku baku kei). The individual meanings of these characters are as follows:

Screenshot 2019-12-16 at 12.36.46.png

The Meaning:

尊藝必先尊師授輕學莫輕(そんげいひっせんそんしじゅけいがくばくけい, read as ‘son gei hissen son shi ju kei gaku baku kei’) is also a relatively detailed principle with two key points.

The overall meaning is: “Before respecting the art, you must first respect the teacher, and you must not take their teachings or your own study lightly”.

The message can effectively be broken into two segments, each possessing an important ideology of their own. To begin, the first 6 characters (尊藝必先尊師, son gei hissen son shi) hold the meaning that ‘you must first respect your teacher before you respect the art’. Your teacher, or 師匠 (shishō), is the first thing you must respect when you set out on your path of learning the art of karate or you will never be able to take their teachings or what you learn seriously.

In connection, the last 5 characters (授輕學莫輕, ju kei gaku baku kei) mean ‘do not look lightly on that which you are taught or learn’. According to Higa-Sensei, it also hold the nuance that you cannot look lightly upon the art/technique itself either.

Therefore, you must respect your teacher and consider earnestly and sincerely all of the art that you are taught and learn.

I believe this concept is also reflected in two precepts of Miyazato Eiichi-Sensei’s Dojo-Kun, which state:

  • Study and contrive seriously = 真剣に工夫研究せよ (‘shinken ni kufū kenkyū seyo’)

  • Continue training with patience and steadiness = 撓まず屈せず修行を永続せよ (‘tawamazu kussezu shugyō wo eizoku seyo’)

In Conclusion:

In summary, the golden principles that hang at the front of the Jundokan So-Honbu Dojo are:

  • “The method of inhaling and exhaling is both hard and soft”

  • “Your body must always change in response (to the situation)”

  • “In budo, i.e., in martial virtue, technique is valued less than righteousness”

  • “Know yourself and stay modest by not trying to fly higher than you can”

  • “Before respecting the art, you must first respect the teacher, and you must not take their teachings or your own study lightly”.

Overall, six of the eight precepts in Miyazato-Sensei’s Dojo-Kun can be found in these four golden writings.

The remaining two precepts are very similar in meaning, and are most likely represented as an underlying nuance in each of the four golden messages:

  • Train considering your physical strength = 体力に応じて適度に修行せよ (‘tairyoku ni ōjite tekido ni shugyō seyo’)

  • Take care off yourself = 摂生を重んぜよ (‘sessei wo omonzeyo’)

At the end of the day, we must recognise that all of these concepts are a set of interrelated principles written to help guide and mentor us through our own pursuit of training and understanding the art of Okinawa Goju-Ryu Karate.

I believe it is important, therefore, that we keep these golden principles of the Jundokan in mind each time we train, and use them as a model for the manner in which we should uphold ourselves both inside the dojo and out.

Blake Turnbull © copyright 2019

Why are we training? The diversity of karate motivation

When you put on your gi, strap on your obi, and step into the dojo, why are you doing so?
No doubt you have your own reasons; as do I mine, and as do your teacher and training partner theirs. But do our reasons all match? Or, indeed, do they need to match? 

The answer, of course, is: No.

Particularly in western cultures, karate is often seen purely as a form of self defence. Priority, both psychically and psychologically, is given to training forms and techniques that prepare karateka for violent encounters in the ‘real world’.

And whilst this is undoubtedly a significant aspect of anyone’s karate training, that is certainly not to say it is the only one, or indeed the most important to everyone.

In Japanese, there is a saying: 十人十色 (jyu nin to iro), which means “10 people, 10 colours”. In other words, it refers to how everyone has their own ideas and tastes: “different strokes for different folks”, if you will. And I believe this applies so fittingly to the diverse array of motivations that drive karateka to step into the dojo.

To take a different look at it: when joining a rugby team, is it everyone’s goal to be selected for the All Blacks and to win the World Cup? Not necessarily. Some may play simply for the enjoyment factor, others for fitness, or perhaps just to be a part of a team environment.

And when learning to play the guitar, is it everyone’s goal to become the next Jimi Hendrix and tour the world? Again, not necessarily. Some may practice for fun, to master a new skill, or simply to add another string to their bow.

At the end of the day, everyone has their own motivational factors driving their desire to do literally anything in their lives.

And I believe this is certainly true in karate training. Some may train for the enjoyment, to learn a new skill, to have to goal to work towards, to get fit, to be a part of a club, to enrich their own lives, or to master a historical and tradition-rich art. It’s not necessarily the case that everyone steps into the dojo simply to learn self defence against the most violent, brutal criminals in the world.

For many, karate training is about mastering an art, and mastering all aspects of that art.

As such, we must practice kata until the techniques are perfect, performed elegantly and refined. We must practice bunkai in various contexts (see this discussion) so that it not only works well, but also so that it demonstrates the art we are working to perfect.

We must work to sculpt ourselves so that our character reflects the key elements of budo so deeply engrained in the history of the art we strive to perfect.

Gichin Funakoshi (the founder of Shotokan Karate-Do) said:

“The ultimate aim of karate lies not in victory or defeat, but in the perfection of the character of its participants.”

And this is what truly defines us as karateka.

A good practitioner of karate is not one who can win 100 fights. A good karateka is someone with virtue, humility, honesty, respect, courtesy, and integrity. Someone who is willing to put in the time, patience, persistence, and practice required to preserve and perfect the art that has been passed down to us through the generations, resulting in the ability to protect oneself. “Spirit first, technique second.” – Gichin Funakoshi.

Engaging in brutal fighting and learning a self-defence accordingly is only one part of karate training. A combination of that, alongside mastering the art and perfecting one’s character, is what I believe is required to be a truly fulfilled karateka.

Karate is so much more than simple self-defence: it is a lifestyle.

“Karate aims to build character, improve human behaviour, and cultivate modesty; it does not, however, guarantee it.” – Yasuhiro Konishi (founder of Shindo Jinen-ryu Karate).

It is thus your job to insure the all-round cultivation of yourself as a karateka, and it is our job to recognise all aspects of what that encompasses when viewing and assessing someone else.

Acknowledging the array of motivations that drive people to step into the dojo is incredibly important. We must take these factors into account as we review our own training style, and indeed, ourselves as practitioners, and our position along the path of Goju-Ryu.

Blake Turnbull

A Brief “Bunkai” (Analysis) of Bunkai

We all know the importance of bunkai in karate, but recent discussions I have had with various sensei at the Jundokan So-Honbu Dojo have spurred me into writing down a few ideas that are often overlooked in bunkai training.

Have you ever heard the phrase: “This is the bunkai for this technique”? 

It is a statement denoting the sole existence of a single, pre-determined form for each technique in a kata, but is this really possible? And, most prudently, is this really that practical?

Granted, there is kihon (基本, “basic”) bunkai, which one could argue to be a uniformed, textbook-like technique, but even within kihon bunkai there is variation. The phrase “kata doori” (形通り) meaning, “as the kata is”, refers to applying a set of techniques on an opponent in the exact same way they are preformed in the kata. However, I was told recently that all bunkai, preformed as the kata is, can be applied on both sides of your opponent, inside and out. If at first it doesn’t seem possible, it’s up to you to work out how it can be done. In other words, even kihon bunkai, preformed as the kata is, has variation.

The term “bunkai” (分解) is widely translated by karateka as “application”, often heard in such statements as: “show me the application for the first move of gekisai”, for example. However, the term actually means to “decompose” or “take apart”, referring to the process in which one must research and analyse the techniques of the kata to apply them in practical situations. Thus, while I don’t think the term ‘application’ is necessarily bad, I do think it is often incorrectly interpreted. 

To put it best: bunkai is situational. We’re applying the techniques to the situation at hand. Naturally, every situation is different: your opponent could have different sizes, strengths, weaknesses, experiences, and abilities. Bunkai is thus the process of applying the techniques of a kata to a particular and individual situation.

It stands to reason, then, that there can be no single bunkai for each technique in a kata that can be applied by anyone to anyone.

What works for me against one opponent may not work for you against the same person and vice versa. Similarly, what works for me against one opponent may not work against another.

This is where certain (not all!) practitioners of renzoku bunkai, rehearsed and refined to the extent that techniques becomes muscle learnt and rhythmic, often fail to grasp the true purpose of what they’re doing. When a bunkai becomes so drilled in one particular manner, it becomes extremely difficult to adapt those techniques to a different situation. This has sparked a recent shift away from renzoku bunkai in some dojos.

At the end of the day, it’s all about adaption. Adaption to the person you’re fighting, and to the situation you’re in.

I have been lucky to receive a lot of one-on-one training at the Jundokan So-Honbu Dojo with some of the best, most forward-thinking practitioners in Goju-Ryu today. And during these sessions, it is interesting to note that each sensei will often show different bunkai for the same technique (even when considering kihon bunkai). Is this because they cannot agree on what the ‘one correct’ bunkai is? 

Of course not.

It is because they’re all different, and thus all react to me (as their opponent) differently. Some are shorter than me, some are taller; some have less arm reach than me, some have more; some are bulkier than me, some are slimmer. However they read the situation and present their bunkai to combat me as their opponent. And this is how bunkai should (/must!) work.

It’s not about (force-) fitting a fixed set of bunkai to every situation, and trying over and over until it works. It seems impossible that one could make a single form of bunkai work on all opponents in any situation. 

While can learn an enormous (indeed, endless!) amount of bunaki from our Okinawan sensei, what I believe they are really teaching us is different ways to think about our own bunkai, and to look at how to apply said bunkai in various situations. And whilst there is certainly value in copying them technique for technique, and practicing that over and over, at the end of the day, what we are learning is a blueprint - a basis from which to think about, and develop, our own bunkai to use in diverse circumstances.

Bunkai training is about diving deep into the kata, analysing the techniques from multiple angles, and practicing with a range of partners: big, small, strong, fast, skilled martial artists and beginners, until you have built up a solid toolbox for each technique that can be applied in various contexts.

At the end of the day, you cannot predict the situation in which (perish the thought) you should ever need to use your bunkai in real life. Our daily training is about preparing our bodies and minds to adapt and apply the bunkai in whatever context.

And it is this research (i.e., applying the techniques of the kata and unraveling the hidden meanings so carefully constructed by the old masters) that is the ultimate goal of karate training. 

The question, then, becomes: How should we train and develop our bunkai skills

The answer, I believe, is through variation

When we train bunkai, we should focus on:

  • Different opponents to alternate strength, height, speed, mass, and skill-level.

  • Different rhythms to alternate the timing of techniques (both your opponent’s attack and your defence/retaliation) and to avoid falling into the trap of preforming dance-like, muscle-memorised techniques.

  • Different beginnings to alternate the technique in which you first engage with your opponent (it almost certainly won’t come from a single, straight choku-tsuki punch in the real world). Kakie is the perfect training to combat this.

Of course, it is understandable that beginners may temporarily be taught a ‘single’ bunkai for each technique as an introduction to why we do kata, and to ensure that they develop a fundamental understanding of bunkai before building their own at a later stage. 

But, at the same time, I think it is also important that they be told of the real way bunkai works so they can start thinking about it and, when the time is right, start developing their own bunkai prepossessing the knowledge of how to do so and why that is necessary.

To sum up, when practicing bunkai, it is necessary to take both the Japanese and English usages of the word into consideration: ‘analysis’ and ‘application’. Analysis of the techniques, hidden meanings, and myriad of ways in which they can be applied, and application of said techniques appropriate the situation and context at hand.

Bunkai (analyse and break-down) the way you do bunkai.

Analyse the way you preform your bunkai and vary it each time to different circumstances and situations. There is no “single” answer for each technique in the kata, and thus no single bunkai that can be used in every situation.

If we train with this in mind, and disregard the idea that we must all do the same unified bunkai in the same unified way, we will move towards a more self-fulfilling, productive training regime, and towards a more varied, practical toolbox of bunkai.

Blake Turnbull

Busaganashi: The Patron Saint of Goju-Ryu

You have probably seen the figure of Busaganashi in the logos of Goju-Ryu Karate clubs throughout the world, but explanations for who he is and what he represents are often few and far between. This article is an attempt to provide some background information about the character so widely revered in Goju-Ryu, and offer an explanation as to how this came to be.

Busaganashi is known throughout the martial arts world as the Patron Saint of Goju-Ryu Karate; however, officially, Busaganashi is a lesser-known Taoist Deity of art and business from Chinese Taoism Philosophy. So how did he come to so strongly represent Goju-Ryu, regardless of affiliation, throughout Okinawa and the globe? Let us take a look at the historical background that lead to where we are today…

The Legend:

The origins of Busaganashi are embedded in both history and legend. There are two common origin myths: the Chinese version, and the Okinawan version. Both are similar, but contain slight differences. I will discuss the Okinawan version here, and reference the differences from the Chinese story below.

According to the Okinawan origin story, a young, single woman gave birth to a boy in ancient China. As raising a child out of wedlock brought about shame to the family, the woman decided to abandon her son in the forest. After three days, the woman and her family felt remorse and went back to look for the boy. When they returned to the forest, they found that the trees had surrounded the baby to protect him, and the creatures had provided food to feed him. The family realised immediately that this baby was special, and took the boy home to look after him themselves.

From an early age the boy showed signs of great intelligence and athleticism, and was recognised in his village as an outstanding musician. As an adult, he scored remarkably high on an aptitude test and was able to join the military, where he studied and refined his martial art skills.

According to the legend, one day, a tower in the Imperial Palace caught on fire, and quickly became too big for the city put out. Seeing this, Busaganashi used his dynamic martial arts breathing to extinguish the fire with a powerful exhale. In doing so, he saved the city, and was awarded the title of “Marshall of Wind and Fire”, where he became a symbol of martial arts.

The Chinese legend is slightly different. According to this story, Busaganashi was in fact a musician in the Tang court, not a martial artist. He took charge of the imperial guards when a large fire broke out, saving the palace. The Tang Emperor was very pleased, and gave him the title "Grand Marshall for Wind and Fire”.

Historical Background:

Busaganashi, or Tian Du Yuan Shuai (田都元帅) as he was known in China, was, in fact, a real person who existed during the reign of Emperor Xuan Zong in the Tang Dynasty. Based on the records of Fujian and Taiwan folktales, Tian Du/Busaganashi was an expert in both Martial Art and Music Entertainment (Opera).

Today, Busaganashi is known as the Fujianese and Taiwanese god of business, art, music, and wealth. He is worshipped by both martial artists, and music performers, especially by those in the Chinese Opera, but where does the connection between music/art and martial arts lie? Although the history is deeply embedded, I believe it can be best simplified as follows:

During the Ching Empire, when martial arts were outlawed due to political unrest, many Chinese martial artists hid in Chinese Opera groups, where Kung Fu plays a major role. Because of this close relationship between opera, music, art and Kung-Fu, the Busaganashi came to be the patron saint of martial artists too.

Pictures and statues of Busaganashi are particularly found in White Crane Kung Fu schools, as well as in business, markets, and restaurants.

Connection to Goju-Ryu:

In 1915, Chojun Miyagi-sensei, the founder of Goju-Ryu Karate, first travelled to the Fukien Province in China to further study and refine his martial arts. Here he came across images of the Busaganashi, and learnt about the history of the beloved martial arts deity. He purchased a scroll depicting Busaganashi and took it back to Okinawa. 

As a Shinto practitioner, Miyagi revered the Busaganashi picture and prayed to it every day. However, during an air raid in World War II, Miyagi’s home dojo and all of its contents, including the Busaganashi scroll, were destroyed.

In the late 1940’s, sensing his master’s sorrow, one of Miyagi’s disciples, Keiyo Madanbashi, who had previously made a sketch of the Busaganashi scroll, journeyed to the Philippines to have a three dimensional statue made of the deity. Although hesitant of what his master would think, having made it without permission, upon return to Okinawa Madanbashi presented the statue to Miyagi. The gesture was so overwhelming that it is said to have brought the karate master to tears.

The hand crarved 15" tall statue now rests in the Jundokan Dojo in Okinawa, having been gifted to Ei’ichi Miyazato upon Miyagi’s death.

Aside from seeing pictures in China, it is likely that Miyagi also developed a fondness for the warrior deity through exposure to the Bubishi (the most comprehensive Kung Fu manual of ancient China, and later the most influential martial arts book in Okinawa), in which pictures of Busaganashi are found.

Indeed, Busaganashi was so important to martial arts in Okinawa that the modern Okinawan Bubishi (沖縄伝武備志) has him on its cover:

To research more about the Chinese origins of Busaganashi, or to see different pictures of him, you can Google search for the following alternative names:

  • Busaganashi

  • ブサーガナシー

  • 九天風火院三田都元帥

  • 三田都元師

  • Tian Du Yuan Shuai

Blake Turnbull

The Inspiration of the Jundokan

As I return to the the Jundokan Honbu Dojo in Okinawa for the fourth time now, I am once again reminded of the humbleness and kindness of those masters from whom we seek to learn the art of Goju Ryu. That said, however, this trip has been the first time I’ve realised that, perhaps it hasn't always been this way, and that the karate training of the past was indeed very different to that which are accustomed to now.

After inviting me out for lunch one afternoon, Gima-sensei, 9th dan and chief director at the Jundokan, told me a story of his early days training under Ei’ichi Miyazato Sensei. He said that very few of his senpai, or senior students, really understood the ‘soft’ side of Goju. Training was extremely tough, and out of the 100 students who joined around the same time as him, only two were left training in the end. Gima-sensei recited tales of the brutality his senpais would inflict upon him, both inside the dojo and out. He reminisced about receiving split lips from punches to the face and then being forced to drink carbonated drinks as his eyes welled up in pain. He recalled an incident in which both his forearms had been split open with blood pouring out after a particularly strenuous conditioning session, to which his senpai said “never mind your arms, what are you going to do about the blood on the floor?!”. He laughed about it as he told me, but made sure I understood that the reality of training in those days was a harsh and unsparing affair.

This made me realise all the more how special the current generation of Jundokan masters really are. Undoubtedly, such brutal means of training continue to exist in other Goju Ryu dojos, and indeed in other styles of karate and martial arts spread throughout the world; but the Jundokan has become perhaps one of the most respectable and virtuous places to train, very unlike the scenes which Gima-sensei so openly discussed. To take one, very simple example from my most recent trip: after training in kakie one night with Shimamura-sensei, when my arms could barely move he decided it was time for some arm conditioning. He said that I was to say stop when I needed to, and although I did my best to keep it up for as long as possible, I was, of course, eventually forced to concede and say stop. But when I did, instead of continuing further, or trying to push me to breaking point (as was the case in the olden days), Shimamura-sensei rubbed my arms to make sure they were okay, and said “right, now you know your limits — your goal is to exceed that next time”. This simple lesson was enough for me to understand his message and know what I need to do, and I realised that this is the way of modern-day Jundokan.

All of the masters who train within the Jundokan’s walls are true inspirations to us as budding practitioners of Goju Ryu karate, not only in their style and practice of the art, but in their demeanour and personal conduct too. If I myself am able to become even half as admirable as they are, I would consider my pursuit of Goju Ryu (despite having only scratched the surface) all the more worth while. Every trip back to the Jundokan re-sparks a fire within me not only to better my own karate, but to better myself and my way of thinking as well. This is the inspiration of the Jundokan, and this is what I believe we must strive to achieve.

Blake Turnbull

What's in a Dojo?

Although the term ‘dojo’ is often translated as a ‘training hall’ used in the practice of martial arts, the term literally translates to a ‘place of the way’, in which one trains for personal enlightenment. But what is a dojo? And is there a difference between what we perceive to be a karate dojo, and what we think of as a karate club?

It is often said that karate training can be done without the need for physical movement. That is, contemplating a kata in your mind, imagining each movement and technique, and seeing yourself perform it. If we were to follow such a conceptual mentality, we could resign to the fact that we don’t need space to train. In 1934, Miyagi Chojun Sensei wrote a selection of eight Special Merits of Karate. Five of these merits are of interest to this situation: (1) a large space is not required; (2) karate can be practiced alone; (3) its practice does not require much time; (4) proper kata can be selected and practiced at one's own discretion, and; (5) one can practice with empty hands or the use of simple equipment can also be employed without much expense. In summary, karate can be trained alone in no space with no time, equipment or money.

So, returning to the original question in review of Miyagi-sensei’s Merits: what is a dojo? It seems that, if a club can consist of as few as just one person so long as that person is training, be it physically or mentally, then a dojo can be literally anywhere: a bedroom, a shed, a kitchen, a hall, or even a broom cupboard - it doesn't matter so long as some form of training is taking place. And wherever there is a dojo with one or more people training, there is a club. A club can thus be viewed as one or more individuals training in pursuit of a similar target; that target being to discover and understand a path of self-defence, discipline, and on a larger scale, a way of living to further enhance their life. Karate is, in fact, as much a pursuit of ‘the way’ as it is the learning of self-defence, and it is the pursuit of this ‘way’ that (literally translated) forms the fundamental criteria of what a dojo is.

I review this notion now, just one week out before I venture to Japan to complete a 3 year degree at Kyoto University, and leave behind the karate club that I’ve trained with for the past 20 years of my life. Despite knowing that I will one day return, walking away from what I consider to be my dojo was not an easy decision. But, in light of the above information, I’ve come to realise that, in actual fact, I’m not walking away from my dojo. My dojo is built within me, ready to train in where ever I go. I write this now as a means of encouragement both to myself, and to others in similar positions. One of my favourite quotes of all time is: “If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always got” (Henry Ford).

I’ve always thought this applies well not only to life in general, but also to karate training. However, recently when watching Disney’s Kung Fu Panda 3 (very wise movie, believe it or not!), I heard a more suitable rendition, which I would like to share with you too: “If you only do what you can do, you'll never be better than what you are” (Master Shifu).

Change is inevitable, both in life and most definitely in our pursuit of the way of karate. What’s important is to keep looking forward and to stay hungry for more. Karate will be with you where ever you so choose to be, and so long as you have the mindset and spirit ready to train yourself, both mentally and physically, know that your dojo will be there too.

Blake Turnbull

Jundokan New Zealand Master's Seminar 2014

Last weekend Richmond, Nelson, played host to the Jundokan New Zealand (JNZ) Masters Seminar for 2014 (December 13th-15th), hosting Okinawan Jundokan Honbu 9th dans Gima Tetsu-sensei, Kinjo Tsuneo-sensei, and Yurio Nakada-sensei, for a 3 day seminar of traditional Goju Ryu kata and bunkai. It was the first time New Zealand had played host to the now Alaskan-based Nakada-sensei, and 7 years since both Gima-sensei and Kinjo-sensei had last visited in 2007, but it was clear from the get-go they were happy to be back, this time beneath the beautiful sun and warmth that Nelson had to offer

The seminar itself was a truly fantastic event that could only be described as enlightening (if not a little mind-boggling at times!). Beginning with Gekisai and Saifa on day 1, moving on to Seiyunchin and Shisoshin on day 2, and finishing with Sanseru and Seipai on day 3, those who participated in the 3-day event received invaluable tips, advice, and demonstrations on kata from the Okinawan masters. Following each kata, we began looking in-depth at the bunkai, both kihon (as is laid out in the kata itself) as well as more advanced techniques that built on the basic kata foundations.

One thing that was stressed to us time and time again was that, although the masters could teach and/or show us what they know, at the end of the day, it was up to us to take those techniques and concepts that we liked and those that worked best for us, and assimilate them into our own style of bunkai. It hardly need be said that having 3 surprisingly different styles and techniques from each of the 3 masters themselves certainly gave us a lot to work with, and the knowledge that everyone received is something truly special and an incredibly unique experience that I am sure everyone involved took a lot away from. A grading was also held on the final day for Hayden Wilmott, Glen Morgan, Richard Dickens and Jack Carter. Congratulations to you all and an outstanding effort and performance.

What I believe we can take away from the seminar is that (certainly in my eyes, at least) JNZ is on the right track in terms of where we want to be in our own studies of karate, and where we sit in the eyes of the Jundokan masters. It was a truly fantastic seminar in which all those involved were simply there to train and to learn from the masters themselves. No egos, no flashy performances, no attitudes of self-importance - simply a bunch of like-minded people there to learn from the best of the best. And I believe this was reflected in the overall success of the seminar as a whole, and also in the views of the masters themselves, who seemed more than happy with how it all played out.

I would like to say a huge thank you and congratulations to Paul Allot-sensei for all of the time and effort he invested in to making the seminar such a resounding success. He is simply an inspirational leader for Jundokan New Zealand, and I believe there is no one better and more suited to be leading this ever-strong organisation in our journey to continue learning about the art of Goju Ryu. I also believe this was reflected in the mutual respect shown by the Okinawan masters towards Paul-sensei, and it is clear that with him at the helm, JNZ will continue to be a strong, close-bound organisation for many years to come. It is also clear to me that the ties between JNZ and the Jundokan Honbu Dojo in Okinawa have never been stronger, nor have the bonds between the members of the JNZ family.

I believe that the mutual respect between JNZ and the Jundokan Honbu will long continue hereafter, and I look forward to the next chance in which we are all able to train under their watchful eye in the near future. Until then, let us continue our own training, incorporating all that we learnt over a simply outstanding seminar, as we continue to grow and advance our karate together as members of Jundokan New Zealand.

Blake Turnbull