Even though we are not at home, Seminar is coming soon - and so the bokuto traveled along with us so that I can practice (turns out traveling with a wooden practice sword is no big deal at all as checked luggage - although when I had to pull it out and retie the sageo I certainly got some looks) along with my obi and my practice hakama. My in-laws have a fine backyard for such things, and out to practice I went.
Practice outside of the dojo is always an interesting thing. The dojo is a very controlled environment with even lighting, an even floor, and temperature control. The outside world is very different of course - at New Home I bridge the gamut from frozen and rainy to hot and humid. Here in Old Home I have a treat indeed: cool breezes, no humidity, and a mild (to us, anyway temperature). The even lighting gives way to the sun - and always facing away from it to practice (thus proving Musashi's dictum of always try to have the sun at your back or to your right side).
The footing is the most noticeable.
Here the footing slightly rises and falls with the small divots and hills in the yard - something that is noticeable to the eye as one looks across it or even walks across it, but which is very noticeable to the balance when one tries to execute a waza across it. The stamping of the foot becomes an opportunity to lurch forward and throw the suheigiri (eye-level straight cut) off; the stepping back for an ukenigashi (block) or a wakinokimae (back stance) becomes the opportunity to fall back and lose the movement. One no longer can just pay attention to the mechanics of the cut or the place of the blade; one has to pay equal attention to where one is and how one is stepping.
It is a bit disconcerting to start out with something other than what you are used to, not just for the variety of practice but the hard realization of the fact that one is not as nearly skilled as one believes one's self to be. That is good of course, and a fine reminder that practicing anything under perfect conditions does not lead to mastery but to a delusion of what one's true ability is.
Because, as some very wise martial artists have said, we train not for the dojo but for life.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments are welcome (and necessary, for good conversation). If you could take the time to be kind and not practice profanity, it would be appreciated. Thanks for posting!