Invitation to break bread AKA rice…

Following Sunday’s training, I was standing by my cubicle to change out of my keikogi (Kendo coat portion) and hakama (lower part) when a fellow student approached me. This student spends three days of the week away from his family to care for the Kancho (head of the Dojo). Kubo Kancho lives by himself and recently had a heart attack. The 2nd floor of the Dojo is the changing area and the home where the Kancho resides.

Kojiro-san (the student) mentioned to me that the Kancho requested that I join him for dinner after I changed. I did not expect that at all. I had only been there three times, and other than the first night I showed up, I had limited engagements with the Kancho. Invitations such as this are not to be turned down, nor did the thought of declining ever cross my mind. However, I felt ill-prepared as I traveled in workout clothes, as you can see in the picture and would have preferred to have been more presentable.

The meal was excellent, and we were joined by Tajima Sensei, who leads the Iaido training. My mother taught me Japanese customs and courtesy, and more recently, my wife Mollie has modeled and taught me proper manners around a Japanese meal. Mollie has studied the Japanese language and often watches videos on Japanese language and etiquette. She is also experienced in the Japanese culture from her liaison work many years ago.

So, as the Kancho and Tajima Sensei joined us at the table, the lessons in etiquette came to mind, and I helped serve the meal and drinks. My hosts and the other student noticed these gestures. Kojiro-san later remarked to me that it was a sign of respect towards them. He and I then cleared the table and washed the dishes when the Kancho and Sensei retreated for the day.

I was honored and humbled at the invitation to join them for a meal. I reminded myself that gatherings around a meal is a common means of fellowship and getting to know each other in most parts of the world. I entertained many questions as we ate, precisely my motivation to study Kendo and Iaido. They shared with me their histories, and I gained a greater appreciation of the people instructing me.

Kubo Kancho is limited in his strength and mobility following his heart attack. He has a large monitor connected to a camera, which you can see behind us in the picture posted above. During the training sessions, Kubo Kancho watches the students through video while the other sensei are instructing. I have noticed times when Kubo Kancho will use the intercom to direct a sensei to correct a technique. I observed this a few times since his communication often involves the phrase “Pat-o san” in it, and a sensei will come to me and correct a technique.

At one point during the meal, Kancho commented that if I was to have any issues while in Japan, to show my membership card and to keep his phone number handy. He stated that I was a member of his Dojo, and I should have no issues while I am here. Wow! It was a statement that I belonged to the Dojo. For much of the latter part of my military career, I was often the one making a similar statement towards a new member of a unit.

Being given my name cloth reminded me of the occasions when I welcomed a soldier to my team. We had a routine back then of welcoming the new guy. I would let the soldier know that the Sergeant Major assigned him to the team, but I would let him know when he was ‘on’ the team. We would then have a session in the Dojo doing combatives. The guys knew it was going to be a hard session whenever a new guy arrived. We had a drill that was a gut-check, and every member of the team would participate. The new guy would be the last to go. At the conclusion, I gave the new guy a team coin, and we welcomed the individual to our outfit. He was now ‘on’ the team.

I reflected on that experience as I was branded as a member of the Dojo and handed my name cloth. The scene from the movie Gladiator came to mind as well, where Maximus declares his name. That is a powerful scene and one I have replayed in my mind many times. To me, it speaks to our calling, purpose, vision, unit, team, organization, company, and a cause that is greater than ourselves.

I have heard ball players state that the name in front of the jersey is more important than the name on the back. Likewise, we often noted that the nametape over our heart said, “U.S. Army.” Unfortunately, I think we lose sight of things like that at times, yours truly included. However, life’s journey allows us to get back on track and provides us good reminders at various stages. One of those stages for me was Sunday evening.

I came here to train and practice elements of my graduate course instruction. What I received Sunday after training was a bonus. I am curious about what other lessons are in store for me in the days and weeks ahead? I recognize that a simple act extended to me over the weekend has sharpened my focus and re-enforced leadership lessons taught to me and practiced for most of my adult life. The journey continues…

Pat