The other day, during the last 30 seconds of practice, I did aiuchi-men practice (mutual men practice).
My practice partner was my sensei.
The practice itself lasted only about 20 seconds.
I stepped in thinking, “All right! I’m going to stay completely focused for these 20 seconds and give it everything I’ve got!”
But after getting struck on men by my sensei again and again in quick succession, I could feel my spirit starting to fade.
Even though it was only about 20 seconds of aiuchi-men keiko, I couldn’t keep my mind fully focused.
I was disappointed in myself.
That was so pathetic…
sigh…
I wondered what on earth had happened to me in such a short amount of time.
The first question that came to mind was:
Why did my spirit fade halfway through?
When I thought back on it, I realized I had been saying this to myself:
“No way! No way! There’s no way I can land a men strike on my sensei!”
I really was thinking exactly that…
Wait…
But…
Isn’t that completely obvious?
There is such a vast difference in ability between my sensei and me.
With my current level of skill, if I do aiuchi-men practice with my sensei, of course my sensei’s men will win.
Well…
That’s only natural.
There’s no way I could match that.
That’s 100% true.
In fact, It was such an obvious fact that it wasn’t even a reason to let my spirit fade.
I’m a little embarrassed with myself…
Even so, something didn’t quite sit right with me.
As I kept thinking about it, a very simple question popped into my head.
“Then why do I practice with my sensei?”
If I’m standing in front of someone I already know I can’t beat because of the difference in skill, what should I actually be doing?
What is my sensei asking of me by having me do aiuchi-men practice?
It seemed to me that practice has no meaning unless I correctly understand the purpose of each practice.
I had to find an answer before the next aiuchi-men practice.
I’ve really got to think this through
After giving it a lot of thought, I came to this conclusion.
If I had to put it into just one sentence…
The purpose of practicing with my sensei is probably…
“to cultivate a strong spirit”?
In other words…
Instead of worrying about who lands men first…
I should try to feel my opponent to match Ki…
Face my opponent without fear, with strong fighting spirit…
Take the initiative and launch myself forward…
Keep the center at all costs…
Use absolutely everything I have…
And nurture the spirit to charge straight ahead and strike men head-on.
I think that is the real purpose of aiuchi-men practice with my sensei.
Every one of those mentioned above requires a strong spirit.
In short…
I need to learn to attack with a strong spirit.
And…
I need to learn to carry through with what I decided to do, no matter what.
I think aiuchi-men practice is one way to train exactly that.
And I think the same applies not only to aiuchi-men practice, but also to jigeiko with my sensei.
In both aiuchi-men keiko and jigeiko with my sensei…
What I should be aiming for right now is not to score an ippon against my sensei.
As the less experienced one…
What I should aim for is to throw everything I have into attacking my sensei wholeheartedly.
That has to come first.
Instead of shrinking back because I’m afraid of my sensei, or waiting quietly for an opportunity to use an oji-waza or debana-waza after my sensei attacks…
What will happen if I attack with everything I’ve got?
What will I see?
From those results, I can discover what I’m still lacking.
Or perhaps notice the small ways I’ve grown compared with before.
Maybe that’s the real reason I practice with my sensei.
Now that makes sense!
Everything feels much clearer
When my sensei’s men keeps landing in aiuchi-men practice…
Instead of letting my spirit fade by thinking, “I knew I could never beat my sensei…”
I should be thinking things like,
“Oh no! I gave up the center to my sensei again!”
or
“Oh no! I relied too much on my right hand again, and my men strike became slow!”
I realized that I need to learn to instantly recognize where I made mistakes, and use that awareness to improve my very next men strike.
In other words…
Getting struck by my sensei is only natural.
But what exactly was missing in me that allowed it to happen?
Perhaps that’s what my sensei is helping me discover every time we practice together.
It’s a little embarrassing to admit this, but…
Once I start learning a few different techniques, I can easily fall into the illusion that I’m getting better. Then, even when practicing with my sensei, I start feeling like I can stand on equal ground and try to score an ippon with some flashy little technique I saw on YouTube…
Yeah… I’m getting way ahead of myself. Hehe.
That’s kind of embarrassing.
I won’t do that anymore.
After thinking through all of this, I now believe that practicing with my sensei is a way to face my own weaknesses and cultivate a strong spirit.
When I think about it that way…
I’ve started to feel that kakari-geiko is not the only kind of practice where I should kakaru.
Perhaps, if I approach every kind of practice—including practice with my sensei—with the constant awareness of kakaru, I may begin to see a different world from the one I have seen before.
So, I’ll keep chanting “Kakaru! Kakaru!” like a magic spell, and head to practice again tomorrow♪
【Comment Dojo】