One of the things I cherish about kendo is how holistically well I can feel during and after kendo. On most days, especially when I have had a hard day, I struggle to feel excited about going to training. I have the discipline to go, like I am on autopilot. Also, I know what it feels like when I give in on those days and not go, but I can’t remember the last time I gave in to that feeling. Kendo gives you more than those exercise endorphins. It is good medicine. It is a step out of the stress of day-to-day life and similarly the time provides a refreshed perspective on your life.
I have always believed that messages meant for you, to guide you on your way, are presented through various mediums. Either through people, animals, books, and so-called coincidences. I have found these messages in books recently. We read to our daughters before bedtime every night and my daughter has started to allow me to read to her in Swedish. According to her, my Swedish has improved from a 6 o’clock straight thumbs down to a 7 o’clock thumbs down, ―a slight improvement. We are reading the “Handbook for Superheros” (Handbok för Superhjältar). It starts with a young girl finding the handbook and it guiding her towards her superhero powers. I paused at, “Everything is already within you. Deep inside you already have the seed of what will one day bloom” (Allting finns redan inöm dig. Djupt därinne har du redan fröet till det some end dag ska blomma). I asked my daughter if she knew everything was inside her already, she replied in a flat tone “I know, keep reading” like a boss.
I also have to read “Regnmannen” by Jonas Karlsson for my Swedish course. The main character has started to talk about his “magic powers” on controlling the rain for his rose garden. He advises his curious friend, “You must open yourself to the unexpected. Strengthen your senses and make yourself available” (Du måste öppna dig för det oväntade. Stärka dinna sinnen och göra dif tillgänglig). The messages I have read in these books have resonated with questions regarding ki 気 which by definition is: the circulating life energy that is thought to be inherent in all things.
As I am instructing at the moment, I plan my lesson in my head throughout the day. I am balancing a training plan according to the level of our club members and my own 7 dan exam preparation. I am working on ki as a continuation of my work with seme and tame as I described in the previous post, #3 One Step Closer: Being Comfortable in Open Space. At last weeks training, I tried to apply seme with tame against two 7 dan opponents. I felt more comfortable than previously being in the open space that overlaps stages of an attack―where anything can happen. But I found that the ki in my seme was not strong enough to move my opponent and it still resulted in me attacking before there was an opportunity.
I then reflected on ki and where it is in my body and how to express effectively enough to move my opponents. Although there is a standard definition of ki and kiai, there are many perspectives on what it is and how to generate powerful ki. I have always thought ki can be developed through hard training. I started kendo refusing to kiai as I was very shy. A few years later I would have a tough sensei who would corner me and I would have to fight out of the corner with my kiai. I have since had good kiai. It is a life force that has provided a good way to relieve stress.
Some people think women and men have different circulations of ki which manifests through their kiai and kendo in general. This is one ridiculous example of how gender stereotypes are communicated as myth in kendo. I once had sensei suggest I should express a higher kiai, like women university kenshi in Japan. I kept my “manly” kiai, which has also paradoxically been described as a woeful and ear-splitting cry of a banshee―which I imagine to be high-pitched and well quite unpleasant. Watching myself recently, I think my kiai is actually too high-pitched and it reflects stress to attack or a release of stress. It does not reflect the composure and self-possession I am pursuing though my kendo right now.
The pressing question is where does ki come from in my body and how can I express it in an effective way to move my opponent? I reflected on recent advice I received from my sensei in Australia, Brett Smith sensei (7 dan renshi), who has been a great mentor and kendo coach in my life for the past 25-years. He explained that the intent and connection with yourself/your opponent starts at the first rei and all of the movements, specifically your posture, reflects your mental/physical preparedness and intent.
At training, I continued the work on engaging my mental/physical preparedness and intent understanding it as my ki and maintained this connection through the seme and tame. I felt stable in my body and my kiai sounded different. It was a little deeper, stronger, and naturally lasted longer―well past my opponent. It was not forced at all and in fact it reciprocated energy―before and after attacks. It is becoming clear that connecting with ki starts at the first rei and ki is what I have inside of me already. I do not need to “make it strong,” and ki can also be soft. I do need to connect with it, allow it manifest and explore how to move others with it. It is powerful. Sometimes we need others to remind us to bring it out, allow ourselves to let the strange sounds out, and allow the connection to evolve at its own pace.
To previous blog posts in this series:
#1 One Step Closer: Starting again.
#2 One Step Closer: Standing Tall.
Kate Sylvester Perspectives 