So, once again, there are 3 more years before the next WKC, which gives us all a new target to work towards.
Although as a team Great Britain performed excellently in Brazil, and we were massively complimented by many of our fellow competitors, I personally left the tournament with the feeling that I could have done better.
I watched some footage of my shiai, and compared it to footage of myself at the previous WKC for comparison. There is no doubt that I am a far better player now than I was in Taipei, especially from a technical point of view. However, there was clearly ‘something’ about the ‘old’ me that was missing this time round… This wasn’t something ‘physical’, as I am both technically better and faster than I was 3 years ago. Nor is it ageing as, much to the surprise of many, I am still a mere 26. This ‘something’ is something in my mental game.
So I began to do some research.
I put on a DVD that came free with an old issue of Kendo Nippon, which contains a documentary about ‘Mental Training’ for Kendo. This was a very educational documentary, and many of the points raised appeared to be very relevant. Firstly, the sensei tells his students the concept of ‘self image’ is incredibly important. Much to my disappointment he was not to go on to offer out Kendo-specific fashion tips, rather he was referring to the image one holds of one’s skill. He said although it is important not to be overtly-arrogant, you must not constantly think to yourself ‘I am terrible!!’ – Basically you must believe in yourself if you want to ‘win’.
Later on in the documentary a practice shiai is shown. Here the point that is highlighted is the concept of having a ‘focus point’. This was the real gem! The footage showed 2 students engaging in shiai, and reasonably quickly the red player receives a beautiful men-uchi. The commentary then informs us that the red player’s ‘focus point’ is the Japanese flag. In that it means, when he looks upon or thinks about the ‘Hi no Maru’ he becomes ‘inspired’ or ‘motivated’. As the two players re-set to their starting positions, the viewer can clearly see the red player take a glance towards his beloved flag, which is hanging in the dojo. As soon as the shushin calls ‘nihonme!’ he fights with a renewed vigour and soon after comes back with a fantastic debana-men.
This got me thinking. Is this what separates the ‘good’ from the ‘great’? The ‘winners’ from the ‘some times winners’?
Soon after, I watched the now infamous National Geographic documentary entitled ‘Kendo’s Gruelling Challenge’ (I am sure you know the one). In this documentary, Mr Ishida talks about the time he claimed victory in the All Japan Kendo Championships. He goes on to speak about how it was the tragic thought of his dying son which gave him the ‘strength’ to achieve victory. This was his ‘focus point’.
Next I watched another documentary, which featured a player who had learnt Kendo and become very successful, despite being without his right arm. He admits himself, that if he had both of his arms, he would probably have never become as strong as he has…
I have come to realise the importance of this ‘mental’ aspect of Kendo. We often ponder on the ‘mental’ concepts, such as ‘Fudoshin’, ‘Mushin’ or ‘Heijoshin’. However, I think these are somewhat different concepts to what I am talking about here. I currently don’t know a Japanese idiom which expresses this… though I am sure there are many.
The conclusion I came to is that one must put oneself under intense pressure to ‘win’. It is often considered a bad attitude to have in Kendo, but if one does not desire victory, how can we accurately carryout sutemi, and therefore successfully achieve true ippon? Sutemi, in the context of Kendo, is to ‘sacrifice’ everything in a single moment, in order to successfully perform a ‘perfect’ strike. However, unless you really, really want to make the strike successfully, what can you be said to be actually ‘sacrificing’? If you aren’t’ putting anything ‘on the line’, then you can’t expect for your attempted strikes to truly ‘pay off’.
Perhaps in order to be successful, not only in shiai, but in all of our attempts to make Ippon, we need to find within ourselves our ‘focus point’. We must find our motivation for wanting to make that single strike belong to us, and not to our opponent.
Since returning from Brazil I have thought a lot about these points during my practice, and I think I have found my ‘focus point’, or at least I am getting close to it. I won’t tell you what it is, at least not here, but I am sure you have one of your own to put to good use…
I think this “focus point” that you talk about generally manifests itself simply as “pride” in most people (this works in a non-shiai environment just as well).
What pressures you to win, be you a competitor or a coach?
“pressure to look cool” in front of peers, students, and members of the opposite sex, family, etc;
“work pressure” for those people whose ability to do/teach kendo possibly determines their income and promotional aspects;
etc etc…. we all have different motivations, possibly highly complex.
The “pressure” part is of-course the stress that comes with the attempt to re-enforce your pride.
Don’t get me wrong – pride isn’t always a bad thing.
Very interesting.
Something to think about though, I was watching the documentary on Mr Eiga and his pursuit of the Zen Nippon title (may be you’ve seen it). His first final he lost to none other than Mr Miyazaki, so he was determined to train and win it the year after. The reason he gave for his downfall was that he was too focused on ‘winning’. If you want something too much, your mind will become clouded.
However I think he did mention, from my own interpretation, his own ‘focus point’ too … it was his family. So I’m not sure if this pride or source of inspiration should necessarily create pressure on yourself, but perhaps something more like an instant surge of adrenalin through your veins?
Kihaku is the word for good pride in japanese. It is a sort of Ki, like Reigi and many others.
Chris -> professional police kendoka have lots of pressure in their job, especially if they are in specially selected squads. Failure to produce results and you could be side-lined, and perhaps even moved back into normal police work. If you want to carry your kendo professionalism (ie as a teacher) past just the usual competitive phase (early/mid 30s) then you will be fighting for a small number of positions (and even if you get that, promotion is extremely limited). Having an Senshuken title under your belt (as well as others of course) helps alot. “shiai” for these guys serves a completely different purpose than you or I.
I think Eiga Naoki – despite how he may come off in the documentary nor in real life – would have been under tremendous pressure to win for the sake of winning. Now that hes made his name and assured his future perhaps he can relax a little bit… and get a bit mystical/whimsical if he wants to (as generally happens in the older kendo populace).
Nanini -> 気迫 (kihaku) is a very positive word in Japanese, and it shows determination, drive, resolve, but I think its different from pride
I know what your saying Andy, but I have a fundamental issue with “The conclusion I came to is that one must put oneself under intense pressure to ‘win’.” I think if you substitute win with improve, you have something a lot more accurate – but I guess it depends on your goals.
You can win well, or win badly, you can also loose well and loose badly. The focus is to perform 100% the way you have been training up until that point. Yadda yadda.
Super article either way.
I think Andy’s point about “focus point(s)” is a good one. A focus point even as generic sounding as the Japanese flag still has a specific meaning for that kendoka in Andy’s anecdote, and probably any attempt to render its importance in words would sound very ordinary. I’d even go so far as to say that once you tell someone what your particular focus point is, it would straight away lose its focusing power. Such things are personal and should remain secret. That’s my feeling anyway.
My take is that wanting to win and being afraid of losing are two very different things, but two things that outwardly produce the same intensity of focus. I strongly believe that those who are great at the mental aspect of competition have a reduced fear of failure, and see every match as enjoyable and an opportunity to learn. To cut a potentially long diatribe short, if you don’t fear losing then you won’t fear any opponent. Even more to the point, if you don’t fear losing then you will never lose. b
Well, here in Brazil (Brasil in portuguese) we have the second bigger japanese population. I’m saying that we have here a lot of japaneses and japanese descendants. Another thing, japanese-brazilians usually live in colonies spread, often, in south and southwest of Brazil.
My sensei is one of this japanese descendants, he speaks a better japanese than portuguese. And that is his translate of kihaku he often tell to us.
Well, this is my source.
maybe we have differences of meaning of the portuguese word “orgulho” and its literal translation to pride, but i doubt it.
Sorry, I don’t speak Portuguese so cannot comment on the meaning of the word “orgulho,” but I personally wouldn’t translate kihaku into “pride.” Where the conflict rises here is that kihaku has a good/positive meaning whereas pride in English often has negative connotations.
I wouldn’t translate kihaku as “pride” either. I’ve never heard it used in this manner. However I didn’t want to rule it out based just on personal experience so I double-checked in my three most comprehensive Japanese dictionaries.
The Kojien 6th Edition defines kihaku as 何ものにも屈せず立ち向かっていく強い精神力。 (The spiritual or mental strength to face challenges undaunted.)
The Shogakuen Nihonkokugo Daijiten defines it as はげしい気力。強い精神力。 (Ferocious energy. Powerful spiritual strength.)
The Kenkyusha Waei Daijiten (Japanese-English) defines it as “spirit; energy; fighting spirit; fight; aggressiveness; enthusiasm; ardor; drive; vigor; determination.”
So I wouldn’t say it was at all analogous to the word “pride” in English. Of course I have no idea about Portuguese.
Incidentally, you said that reigi is a form of ki. This is incorrect. The kanji for reigi is 礼儀, consisting of 礼 (politeness) and 儀 (ceremony or affair), together meaning ‘decorum’ or ‘good manners.’
Sorry for the language derail…
Kendo is the only link I have with japanese, so my comprehension of these concepts is based on my kendo experience (wich is not that much).
Maybe the word pride carries a very negative meaning. My understand of Kihaku means the opposite of selfless. I used to hear this concept when i was a beginner, developing the confidence to throw yourself in the act of hit (i’m far from have it done). This is what I was trying to say.
In fact, I have more doubts then certains in the meaning of ki, but I know there are sorts of “kis” kihaku, kigiri, kigurai etc.; but i want to learn more about it (this is part of the reason why I wrote that).
PS: sorry about my english, he is alitle bit rusty.
ops…
it is a little bit rusty…
(in portuguese we don’t have hte word “it”)
Out of all the times I’ve heard and seen the word “kihaku” used was when someone was saying a person has a strong determination to accomplish some sort of goal. That isn’t to say that it’s the only use, but I’ve never really seen it used as pride, which is something I believe is different than determination.
As for the article, I thought it was well-done. I will just offer my opinions on the subject.
One thing I do disagree with is putting yourself under intense pressure to win. If you put yourself under too much pressure, then when things aren’t going your way, you might think start getting desperate and taking chances that you otherwise wouldn’t take and end up losing in the end.
I do believe that, in order to win, you have to want to win and have a reason to win. You have to go in there with ‘kihaku’ (yippie! Used a vocabulary word from today’s lesson!) to give you the strength to try hard instead of becoming desperate. That reasoning could be to make yourself, friends or family proud or because your job is on the line. On the other side of the fence, you probably won’t get very far if you just go in there because it happens to be tournament day. Of course, you gotta have fun with it too
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It’s interesting how wanting to ‘win’ is considered taboo for some reason.
Whatever your view, the article itself is intended to discuss what it takes to ‘win’. So please don’t be surprised that it talks directly about the concept of wanting to win.
However, I stand by the belief that if you don’t really want to win (i.e. strike Ippon) then how can you make attacks with everything you have?
I am not saying that you should distort the criteria of what is Ippon in order to simply strike the opponent. But in Kendo we practice dilligently so that we may strike Ippon – is that not the same as winning?
For me, certainly, simply “striking an ippon” and “winning” are completely different.
Nobody has mentioned sutemi here, and that is the concept that takes things out of the “desire to win” category, and places things firmly in an – if somewhat ideological – kendo framework.
Assuming you reach *that* goal, actually making a successful strike (and by extension getting an ippon, winning a shiai, etc) is completely and utterly irrelevant.
In that manner, people who talk about “winning” incessantly end up looking inexperienced. However, this isn’t a bad thing, but a necessary phase that all kendoka need to go through. In the long run, not going through it will (I posit) leave you with an even more skewed, maybe even retarded idea of what kendo is…. and thats not a desired situation to be in when you are supposedly reaching the age/grade where you should be teaching.
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To explain how my view on shiai has been coloured over the years, let me show you an easy example (I have more).
The vast majority of Japanese kendoka finish their competition career when they finish university, so around 21/22. After that there is a small pool of professional or semi-professional people that continue a competitive career (the vast majority of those being police, teachers, and a few company teams), but most of them don’t extend that past their early 30s. After that age the pool of pro/semi-pro kendoka is reduced to a handful.
In other words, Your average non-professional guy (gals have it even worse) barely does shiai once the leave uni. Those that do choose to continue kendo seriously (most people become hobbyists) tend to redefine their view of kendo into a more adult one (over time). The role of shiai and the desire to win in their idea of ideal kendo becomes small, or even disappears.
That is too say, a shiai-centered kendoka is generally an immature one. It stands to reason, since most people in this category in Japan are between the ages of 6 and 21/22.
I could write more, but I won’t… its already almost midnight here!!
Well I certainly don’t profess to be a ‘mature’ player.
Actually, at least in my current level of understanding, I think that ‘desire to win’ is required for sutemi. Hence I wrote about it in the article.
If I didn’t really want to make a successful strike, how could I make my strikes ‘all or nothing’? instead would this not be more like ‘nothing or nothing’?
Further,
The article is written generally in the context of winning in shiai.
However, it is up to the indiviual as to what their own concept of ‘victory’ is. The philosiphy can be applied to many aspects of Kendo none the less.
It may be that ‘winning’ to some of us, is to successfully pass our next grading. Or more simplistically, to achieve the proverbial ‘single perfect men-uchi’.
I think(?!?) my overall point is, that to achieve something worth achieving, you must really really want to achieve it, and hold the thought in your mind of how much you want it at all times…
OK, coming into this way late here.
I was just contemplating this question about winning when I came across this passage in “Why Practice Kendo?” by Noma Hisashi.
“As was said earlier, in the present age there are practically no opportunities for mortal combat with sword (Shinken Shobu). If that is the case, how is one then to come even close to experiencing the mental state of Shinken Shobu, or bringing Kendo to life as Bujutsu? The answer is to attach great importance to the outcome of one-to-one engagements (Shohai). In Budo, Shohai must be held in the highest regard. Questions of Shohai may have to be set aside for the purpose of instruction and so on, but Shohai is the difference between life and death, be it with the real sword or the Shinai. It is vital to realize that to be defeated means that one’s life is lost.”
I think winning and losing has so much connotations for different people it is easy to get lost.
Perhaps a better analogy is this.
It is very easy in this day and age of “video games” to “do it over” if you do something incorrectly.
If one can approach both practice and shiai with the attitude of ichi-go ichi-e where “this is it”, things would be very different.
YMMV
Also, IMHO, it is one thing to debate as to whether a shiai-centered kendoka is immature or not.
However, I think that is also a phase one has to go through to be truly well-rounded in one’s kendo or at least be honest with that aspect of yourself.
As one of my sensei likes to say, “Don’t kid yourself. You ARE competitive if you do kendo. Show me one person who shows up to lose.”
YMMV.
Came across a note I took at one of the Asian Zone Shinpan Seminars, where Inoue Shigeaki sensei said in his opening remarks that he *still* was not sure if a constant focus on competition was a good or a bad thing. b
As I illustrated earlier (in the case of Japan) the *constant focus on competition phase* is – for the vast majority of kendoka – over once they leave university. After that the focus changes (if kendo is indeed continued), and shiai becomes – for some – a very minor part of their training (that of course depends on the individual). That many of the guys that continue competition already have solid kendo is taken for granted… otherwise they probably wouldnt get the jobs they are in nor be able to continue competing. Using them as barometers for “good/bad effects of constant competition focus” doesn’t work that well due to the already superior ability they have reached (and these are the groups of people I suspect Inoue sensei is most likely referencing).
I think the problem occurs (and its something that Inoue sensei doesn’t have *that* much first hand knowledge of) when people focus heavily on competition while still in their formative years. I posit that where this is good for children, its an unhealthy long-term attitude for adults who have yet to develop an advanced understanding about what kendo is, both physically and metaphysically. A quick look at the kendo on display on youtube generally backs this up.
Well, George, I can understand your perspective on that.
But consider, for a moment, the intended audience for your blog.
I suspect teen lifers doing kendo outside japan would probably not be reading this.
Most of your readers are probably adults that started kendo as an adult who are interested in kendo in more ways than just its sporting aspects, which is why this blog is so cool.
So, the perspective on winning and how it affects their training becomes a very different conversation.
That’s all. ^_^
There definitely are people who began kendo later in life (in their 20′s or 30′s even, when shiai is normally a minor aspect of your study) who are interested only in the sportive aspect. I see it constantly in online forums and on youtube. Though I hope some of these people will grow out of it, I am actually a little bit skeptical…. at this point. Perhaps I need to have a little bit more faith and be more patient!!!