individuals who were skilled. In fact,
I probably remember those mistakes
more vividly than any spectacular,
flawless execution of karate and
other budo.
I once saw a kendo match between
two swordsmen at the height of their
skills. They were young enough to be
physically awesome and old enough
to have absorbed the finer points of
the art. They were close in ability and
spirit. Neither seemed to be able to
gain any advantage.
Then one kendoka dropped his
bamboo shinai. No excuse, no expla-
nation. Kendo teaches one to have a
relaxed grip; only wannabe samurai
clutch weapons tightly. In this case,
though, the grip was too relaxed. The
shinai clattered to the floor.
Before it hit, the empty-handed
kendoka had already reacted. He lept
toward his opponent, grabbed his
wrists and delivered a foot sweep that
sent the man to the floor before the
shinai had stopped bouncing.
IT IS ASTONISHING — and inspiring
— how quickly the kendoka reacted
to his own mistake. There was not
even a second of hesitation. It was
almost as if he dropped his weapon
deliberately. He did not. Kendo rules
vary; there is generally no way a
point can be scored just by throwing
one’s opponent. There was nothing
strategic to be gained for the ken-
doka. He later said he was aware,
even as he moved in for the throw,
that he would not get any advan-
tage. Indeed, he was disqualified for
the action.
“It was instinctive,” the kendoka
said later. “I attacked without think-
ing about it.”
He lost the match, but through the
mistake of dropping his shinai, the
kendoka demonstrated the fighting
spirit that characterizes true budo.
ANOTHER TIME, I saw an aikido
teacher named Miyazaki make a
“mistake” that likely saved a student
from serious injury.
In general, I rate aikido dem-
onstrations by one standard. The
senior or teacher comes out on the
mat and demonstrates a succession
of techniques, throwing his oppo-
nent, sometimes several opponents,
again and again. I don’t watch
the techniques; I watch the body
placement. A good aikidoka will,
in between techniques, constantly
be moving forward, taking posses-
sion of the space. He controls space.
Less-talented exponents will usually
back up, “setting up” for the next
technique. They are not aware of
the concept of controlling the space
around them.
Sometimes, of course, it’s impos-
sible in a small space not to have to
readjust one’s position. Even so, it is
the opponents who should be forced
to back up, not the person demon-
strating the art. So I was impressed
to watch Miyazaki-san constantly
driving his opponents in the
demonstration, keeping them off-
balance and staying in control. One
delivered a strong punch; Miyazaki
pivoted, took the opponent’s wrist
and moved right into a position that
would result in a very large throw.
Then he saw that, being near the
edge of the mat, the throw would put
his opponent in a dangerous spot
that entailed falling half on and half
off the mat.
Instead of throwing, Miyazaki
pivoted once again, leading his
opponent. The opponent, though,
was not the sort of docile “throwing
dummy” one sees all too often in
aikido. He reorganized as he moved,
came around and drove another
punch right into Miyazaki’s midsec-
tion. Miyazaki tensed as he took the
punch. The sound it made could be
heard by all watching.
Miyazaki was able to continue,
shifting again and effecting a pin-
ning technique. He finished the dem-
onstration. Everyone had seen himget hit. How many had noticed the
hit had come because Miyazaki put
the safety of his opponent before his
ego? It was a mistake, yes, but it was
one that taught me a lot.YOU MAY HAVE SEEN a demonstration
involving the Okinawan bo in which
the staff, manipulated quickly, actu-
ally breaks. This can look dramatic.
It sometimes happens because the
practitioner is wielding the bo incor-
rectly, putting stress on it in a way
that doesn’t efficiently take advan-
tage of the weapon’s capability. Other
times, it is because of carelessness
on the part of the practitioner, who
should be aware of the condition of
his weapon before using it.
Sometimes, though, it just breaks.
That happened to an Okinawan
karateka I once saw at a large pub-
lic demonstration. He was halfway
through the kata, moving brilliantly
with crisp, focused power. And the
staff splintered. Right in his hands.
Without missing a single beat, he
stopped, keeping perfect balance and
concentration while holding the two
pieces in his hands. He stepped for-
ward, returning to where he’d begun
the kata. He paused, bowed slowly
and walked off.
“Did he do that deliberately?”
someone beside me asked. No. He
made it look that way, however.
Monkeys fall from trees. Kappa get
swept downstream. When they’re
good, they make it look deliberate.Dave Lowry has written Karate Way
since 1986. For more information
about his articles and books, visit
blackbeltmag.com and type his name
into the search box.A good aikidoka will, in between
techniques, constantly be moving
forward, taking possession of the
space. He controls space.
AUGUST/SEPTEMBER 2019 § BLACKBELTMAG.COM 23