Outside of the “Comfort Zone”

(Downloaded from peoplehrsolutions.com and multiview.com)

I can’t recall when I embraced the idea of being aware of things within my ‘comfort zone’ and pursuing stuff that was outside? The two pics above were charts I kept in my collection and referenced often during the latter part of my military career. Using these charts as a tool has helped me in my personal and professional life. I have more to learn in this area and view these reminders as something to help me along the journey.

I recall being on a team where stretching one’s comfort zone was regularly promoted. The idea of making those things which were uncomfortable, comfortable, made sense when looking to add intensity, obstacles, and risk, especially in preparation for the chaos of the battlefield. I appreciate the leaders and teammates that fostered a culture of growth as I was coming up the ranks.

In preparation for this trip, I intentionally set out to place myself into an environment that would put me outside of my comfort zone. While I do speak Japanese, I consider it to be at the elementary to the junior high school level. That was the age when we moved to the U.S., so the phrases and words that I am more familiar with are in that age group. I can say the words with the proper accent and speed, which often result in compliments from the locals on my speaking ability.

While the familiarity of the language offers some comfort, there are still several variables that place me outside of my comfort zone. I choose to live in a neighborhood versus an area common with foreigners or tourists. I did consider getting a nice hotel room or the distinguished visitor’s quarters on the Army base on the other side of Tokyo. But that would have taken away from my experience.

The Air B and B I found is getting the job done and forcing me to ’embrace the suck’ as I envisioned. The pics below provide a snapshot of my living conditions. I have had offices bigger than my room. The room I had in Afghanistan was larger, and the shower stalls there were more spacious.

L to R: Bed, closet and dryer, a steep stairway with 3 overhead speed bumps, and alley in front of the apartment. (photos from my collection.)

The first two nights of sleeping on the bed were painful. Not as bad as being in the kneeling position in the Dojo, but close. The padding was very thin on top of a plywood board. Japanese homes usually come without a dryer. It is common for people to air dry their clothes on a balcony. However, I have no balcony, so I dry my clothes in the closet. The stairway is an obstacle course in itself. The steps are not wide enough, so I have to climb up and down sideways. Carrying two suitcases was not fun.

While it may sound as if I am sniveling a bit, it was a quick reminder that it was “Game-On” and this was what I wanted. I have since put into practice something I was taught early in my military career. Always improve your foxhole and leave a place better than when you got there were lessons several sergeants instilled in us. I have added more suitable padding and a pillow to the bed unit. According to my fitness tracker, I am getting some quality sleep, and the pain in my joints is strictly from training and not the bed.

If the magic happens outside of the comfort zone, what are some of the ‘magic’ I have experienced or observed? I’m glad you asked. Being here, somewhat isolated, has allowed me to think quite a bit and appreciate the journey of life. I appreciate Mollie’s support and trust in encouraging me to pursue this course of action. She has been tremendous. I also am thankful for my parents for the foundation they gave me and their example of enjoying the simple things in life.

I have also thought quite a bit about my sons. They are pursuing their lives, one post-college, two in college, and one in the initial stages of his military career. I feel a connection with them as we pursue living life abundantly and with purpose. Not having my usual comfort items has afforded me to read, study, and think about matters I have placed on the back burner for some time.

I recall telling a friend before leaving the States that I wanted to be treated like a Private in the Dojo. I expected to be ‘that guy,’ responsible for cleaning the Dojo after training. Even with that mindset, I have had to be reminded (twice) to get the bucket and rags. This past week, I remembered to move with a sense of purpose after the formal bows ending the training session. I quickly went outside and filled the bucket with water and squeezed out the rags. I get to the Dojo before everyone and sweep the training floor and make sure all the equipment is ready to go. That has been an excellent lesson for me.

While I am indeed developing skills through Kendo and Iaido training, a lot of the ‘magic’ has been in the mental realm. And, in embracing that, I have been able to be purposeful on my off days to review training, apply mental skills tools, and annotate thoughts and observations in a journal. Additionally, training in the Dojo has seen a vast improvement. I have felt positive strides in executing techniques and have received comments from my Dojo mates. My practice consists of three group sessions and one private lesson during the week.

The Kancho pulled me aside this past week and feels I am ready to test for my first rank. He commented that I have the right spirit and am progressing quickly. I was pleased with that feedback. He feels I am ready to test by next weekend, but he left it up to me. I asked to be tested the weekend before departing back to the U.S. Testing for rank was not a goal of mine as I prepared for this trip. Honestly, the rank was the furthest thing from my mind.

I am excited for the opportunity to test soon. I feel it affords me another experience to apply the tools I have learned in my graduate studies. It will also place me outside of my ‘comfort zone’ which is what I came here to do. Much of what I have learned about my comfort level resides in my mental approach. In reality, that is where it begins.

I will close with this. As I walked to the Dojo from the train station on Wednesday night, the song “Let the Good Times Roll” by the Cars popped into my head. A couple of times during training, the song repeated and again, while I filled up the bucket and prepared the cleaning rags at the end of the night. I guessed the thought of the song led to me verbally saying the words which were caught by one of the students. “Good times?” he asked me? “Hai, sugoku tanoshii desu!” That translates to, “Yes, a lot of fun,” which is what I am having. Stretching outside of the comfort zone is not only where the magic occurs but where fun can be experienced.

Pat

Takes a licking and keeps on ticking…

Author is third from left getting ready to strike during open sparring. (Photo from author’s collection.)

During my train ride after Sunday’s training, I saw a billboard which inspired the title of this blog post. Watches are trendy in Japan. While making my way through the second busiest train station in Tokyo, I saw a Timex advertisement. I remembered an older Timex commercial that had the slogan which I borrowed for this post. It pretty much described my experience over the weekend.

The weekend training was more intense and fun. During my first week, I was excluded from the sparring sessions. I understood the sensei wanted me to work on basic strikes and the fundamentals I was taught. I expected much of the same for my second weekend. I was pleased they saw fit to involve me in all their drills. I may have influenced their decision some by falling in line with the other students and responding with an “hai” when they announced the next iteration of training.

After a prior post, a comment was posted discussing always being assessed. I wrote those words down on a sticky note as a reminder and made it a point to recall that throughout the training sessions. I try to hustle between each training event and sound off like the other students. I saw a great example several years ago as a group of senior leaders in my battalion observed a football team practice. One player stood out for his motivation and hustle. Tim Tebow jogged between each training iteration, moving from station to station whenever the horn blew to rotate. That example stuck with me.

Many dynamics occur throughout our days, whether it is in the office, playing field, Dojo, or wherever we may find ourselves. During those times, we are being observed and setting an example. I believe leadership and a positive example has to be modeled to back our words we often like to pontificate. Moving forward with the mission statement I discussed in a previous post helped me to stay on track and make this past weekend’s training purposeful.

Kendo kata, avoiding a head strike and countering with a strike to the opponent’s head. (Video from the author’s collection.)

The Kendo training follows a general format with warm-ups and working basic strikes to get the heart rate going. I believe it was last week during the second session, one of the students approached me during a break after warm-ups. He told me it was okay to rest if I got tired. The retired soldier in me responded with, “I will have time to rest when I die.” He looked at me with a quizzed look as if he didn’t understand. He then responded by saying, “hai, so desu ne,” meaning, “yes, this is true.” I recognized it wasn’t the correct response to say in the open. I think many folks reading this will chuckle. Still, the truth of the matter is that humility and understanding of the cultural context are, in many cases, more important.

I kept my typical comments to myself that I historically used to motivate or increase the intensity. I noticed, especially during the sparring sessions, that phrases such as “bring it” or “let’s go” circulated in my head. I have noted the need to work my self-talk in a more balanced manner. Meaning, motivational speak balanced with developmental and learning talk. I thought about the balance of strength in both hands while gripping a shinai. Like a baseball bat or shooting a pistol, the differential in grip differs depending on the act. I can see where the balance of self-talk will aid the development and execution of Kendo tasks.

Sparring with one of the sensei. Prior to sparring, a striking drill is conducted prior to open sparring. I am the far right kendoka. Kendoka means one who practices Kendo. (Video is from the author’s collection.)

One of the things I quickly picked up on is that the equipment works! We conduct several drills, which are a combination of working the technique of strikes along with what I call, equipment appreciation. And I have come to appreciate the equipment more, especially when the equipment is missed such as the body armor and the ribs take a jolt. The hand and forearm guard reminded me of the Blauer suits we used in the Army for combatives. It doesn’t shield you from feeling the strike so much. Instead, it prevents feeling a large amount of pain. My right forearm is currently bruised and welted. Ah, the price one pays to have a little fun?

My main takeaway from the sparring sessions is the speed of strikes and needing to develop an awareness of openings and being able to convert that to action. I know it will come in time. I focused on working a couple of the techniques which were taught to me, mainly head and wrist/forearm strikes. I found myself getting off of my plan, especially when feeling the blows on my right forearm. Trying to defend the attacks to the forearm gave my opponent a larger target window and off of my plan of attack.

I am using the video from these sessions to gain performance feedback and to see where improvements can be made. Right now, the canvas to improve is wide and open. I am okay with that as I am enjoying the learning atmosphere and feel there are lessons I can use in the future. It was also motivating that several of the sensei mentioned to me that they were impressed with how far I have come in two weeks. The big thing was that I felt the improvements. It is a blast to be in the arena again!

Pat

Being forged through the Journey…

“Iron is full of impurities that weaken it; through forging, it becomes steel and is transformed into a razor-sharp sword. Human beings develop in the same fashion.” Morihei Ueshiba (founder of Aikido)

Contemplating the meaning of life? (Photo from author’s collection.)

I planned for my six weeks here in Japan to be conducted in two distinct phases. The first two to three weeks were going to be Phase 1, where I focus primarily on learning many of the new techniques and apply mental skills training. The plan for the final three weeks was going to focus on performance enhancement of the basic skills and to look at the training venue from a performance consultant’s perspective.

This past Wednesday marked the completion of the first week. I have realized the need to adjust my plan for a couple of reasons. I found myself reflecting on how this training is fostering many thoughts and practices that are parallel and complementary regarding the areas I had separated as the two phases. Additionally, I realize there is a lot of personal and professional growth taking place. I want to honor those areas by allowing flexibility in the self-generated plan.

The training averages about 10-12 people, and the pace is rather fast. I appreciate the fact that the training is not slowing down for the new guy, which adds to the intensity and speed of my learning. With that, there is some frustration, though. For example, it is hard to execute something when you haven’t been taught it yet. The saying, “you don’t know, what you don’t know,” comes to mind. Additionally, I can mimic a technique, but my goal is to understand the “why” behind certain things to enhance understanding.

I draw parallels to many of my prior training, whether it was sports or military-related. For example, I fully comprehend keeping the sword towards the opponent and maintaining situational awareness. Same thing as firing a weapon, and making sure your opposition is down before moving to the next target. I get that the cognitive process computes the data quickly, and decisive action occurs rather fast. But that comes with training (instruction and application) and repeated stress-induced scenarios.

I have experienced some frustration with inconsistency in instruction or communicated expectations. I like to work the basics and to steer away from building poor habits. In the process of executing some of the Kendo drills, I have received a correction to “slow down,” followed by, “you move to slow.” I thought about some of the frustrating points on the train ride back to my apartment. During a break, I reminded myself of two sayings I often repeat. “Slow is smooth, smooth is fast” and “control the controllables” are two phrases that aren’t original with me but have served me well over time.

Practicing strikes to the head. (Photo from author’s collection.)

I realized on the train ride back that night that I was missing something to help keep me focused. The environment, other trainees, receiving commands, and internal/external stimuli often coincide, shaping the training experience. All that can cause me to get off-track at times. While progressive in nature, I know when I get frustrated, my performance is affected. So, a piece I felt was missing was a mission statement.

I came here with vision, intent, and goals. On the train ride, “mission statement” came to mind as something that has helped me to stay focused during many chapters of my military career. More recently, I developed a mission statement with the aid of a counselor as I transitioned out of the Army. Having a written statement has helped me to stay focused and make positive decisions that were in line with my mission. It’s a tool that has worked for me before.

Thursday, I went to a cafe and wrote a rough draft of a mission statement for my time here. Doing that led me to consider adjusting my overall plan and assess what has taken place so far. I will be in the Dojo for 12 hours between tomorrow and Sunday and am looking forward to seeing how I stay focus following the latest analysis and assessment.

The opening quote speaks about forging, and I see a lot of that taking place thus far. I enjoy this process and feel that learning and growth is a lifelong endeavor (part of my post-Army mission statement.) In-Progress Review (IPR) is a tool we regularly used in the military. I believe the IPR conducted over the past couple of days will prove instrumental as I continue the Kendo training. In turn, it will enhance the continued forging of my personal, academic, and professional life.

Pat

Invitation to break bread AKA rice…

L to R, Kubo Kancho, Tajima Sensei, and White Belt dude. (Photo from author’s collection)

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.

Dojo name at the top (3 horizontal characters), and “Pat-o” (3 characters in the middle from top to bottom.) This embroidery will be sewn onto my Iaido kimono after it arrives on Friday. I was also
handed a zekken, a cloth that is affixed to the Bogu (Kendo armor) with the Dojo and student’s name.

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

The fine line between Hard and Stupid…

The Dojo sign, doctrine, their newest student, and a brand new shinai. (pictures from author’s collection)

One would think that after many years of military training and life experiences, I would have a decent grasp of the fine line between hard and stupid? I paused the other day to think about this after my second day of training. Saturday was day #2 and Sunday was day #3. In total, I spent 12 hours at the Dojo over the weekend. So, did I choose Hard or Stupid? Allow me to set the scene.

Before the start of my training, I visited a couple of Kendo stores and saw among all the equipment available were comfort items such as knee pads and cushioned feet padding, specifically for Iaido. I thought to myself, “ahh, the items no true warrior would get caught with.” I wrote about the seiza (kneeling) position in a previous post which I experienced right from the get-go during day #1. While it was extremely uncomfortable, I felt it was something my body would get used to.

The six hours I spent each on Saturday and Sunday were split between Kendo and Iaido. Iaido is the Japanese martial art that trains a person, both body and mind, how to use the katana. I felt it would help with my kendo training, along with the fact that I recently came into possession of an antique katana from the 1590s. Why not learn how to use it properly? I also felt Iaido would provide another venue to apply mental skills training for me to exercise the different tools I have studied during my Graduate program in Performance Psychology.

So, the fine line between hard and stupid? The majority of time in Iaido is spent in the seiza position. Not only is the position ultra-uncomfortable, but the bone (knees and instep of the feet) to hard floor contact also made life enjoyable. Oh, as we were getting dressed for Iaido following Kendo training, one of the Sensei asked if I had brought knee pads? He said they all used them, and it was a “must-have” for training. Still, the rebel in me internally told myself that “old-school” mindset was the way to go, and I would be okay. That was a B-I-G negative.

Saturday night, after making my way back to the apartment, I took a steaming shower and made a direct trip to a sporting goods store. At that point, I didn’t care if the knee pads would cost $100 for a pair, I wasn’t going to choose “stupid” for the following day of training. The thought process I applied in not choosing equipment to aide my practice, in this case, comfort equipment was indicative of a common approach of mine to training in general.

I journaled about it as I think there is some work needed in that area personally. I believe many of the “hard” methods have worked for me in developing character, discipline, and a healthy mental approach, especially in my prior profession. I also recognize at times, it has communicated an expectation to those I led. Sure, there have been positive examples, but I have seen cases where I inadvertently messaged an expectation that didn’t need to be. It would have been better in those instances had I been able to address “why” the hard approach was essential where it applied. I think this incident and capturing it in writing was vital for me in going forward.

As a consultant, coach, dad, or husband, I need to have a balanced approach weighing the pros and cons of things. Am I being hard, stupid, applying grace, or challenging them? In this case, having knee, ankle, and back issues because I was refusing to embrace a training aid or equipment could possibly hamper my personal development and performance. And, yes, the Sunday session was much better having a 1/4 to 1/2 padding between my knees and the hard floor. I was able to focus more on developing balance and strength in muscle groups that were not accustomed to specific movements versus trying to block out pain as if I was being tortured.

Oh, and the last word on the seiza position (for today) was that I had been performing it incorrectly. Go figure? While the position is painful enough, the manner in how I was executing it was “cheating” as I was favoring a method to alleviate some discomfort. Of course, I was corrected and, from that point, expected to execute correctly. Does positioning really matter? I reflected back to military free-fall training and doing table drills. It is a critical component to flying through the air, and poor posture could hamper the individual’s performance and even cause harm to themself or those around them. So, with that approach, I seiza on.

The Kendo portion incorporated working strikes with the shinai. The first session had me executing attacks with and without an opponent. The weekend sessions involved performing them with an opponent prepared to strike back. Learning commands and visual cues that signaled an opening for an attack was also practiced repeatedly. I immediately gained equipment appreciation as I got cracked in the head, wrist, and body area many times. This was part of a drill, and while it wasn’t full speed, I was able to get an appreciation of an effective technique versus muscling the shinai towards an opponent’s area. When a 170-pound practitioner utilizing sound technique cracks you with a bamboo shinai, you know it!

I was very pleased that the Sensei allowed me to record some of the drills and techniques after the training session. I wanted to document what “right” looked so that I could review video on the days we weren’t training. I am aware of the similarities between Kendo techniques and other performance-related acts such as shooting, swinging a bat in baseball, or driving a golf ball. Many skills are coming into play during those acts. Focusing on certain parts will allow me to enhance performance by building fluidity and speed, body awareness, energy use, and decision making among other things

The weekend was absolutely incredible. By mid-day on Sunday (session #3), I felt accepted in the Dojo and more of a regular than the “new-guy.” I had an incredible invitation presented to me after Sunday’s training, which I will write about in a post tomorrow. It was incredible for the “white-belt” in me to experience. It provided me an example of leadership in action extended to me by the Kancho, the Head of the Dojo.

Pat

Men, Kote, Do, and Tsuki

The first session, as I previously stated, was excellent. Several things made the experience positive such as, learning new skills, ability to recall the mental and physical components of performance as I was learning, being in the arena, conditioning, and executing aspects of what I wanted to be tested in all led to a great session. The cultural component also added to the training, which brought back many memories and raised my awareness of things I had forgotten or did not consider.

Men (head), Kote (wrists), Do (body), and Tsuki (throat) are areas where a Kendo practitioner strikes. My first session dealt with repeated practice of strikes corresponding with the movement of the feet to cover the distance. I enjoyed the warm-up, which involved these strikes with elements of cardio and squats. I really enjoyed working these strikes against an opponent, helping me to gauge distance, accuracy, and balance.

Target areas for Kendo strikes (Image downloaded from Melbourne University Kendo)

Practicing against an opponent also revealed areas I will have to work on in the coming weeks. Gaps in the mental and physical components of my personal performance came to the surface. Those that know me well understand I don’t like to lose. My mind immediately went to a win-lose scenario versus a growth mindset. I was told many times not to hit so hard when I was striking my opponent. In other venues, hitting hard would be the goal or expectation. While I got a charge the first couple times I heard the sensei comment on my striking hard, I quickly understood why that was not the goal.

My balance was off when I struck hard, and I lacked finesse in the strikes. I was also compromising speed for power. While watching the other students do the same drill, the saying, “slow is smooth, smooth is fast,” came to mind. I also recognized I was trying to impress people rather than learn. These were critical points for me to realize as I continue my training. Watching the senior students, I recognized their finesse, accuracy, and strike power involved other body components, unlike the large muscle groups I was relying upon.

I thought about some fundamentals in other activities such as swinging a baseball bat or shooting a pistol. Too much grip in the shooting hand or muscling the bat through the swing has a negative impact on the desired outcome. Some things the sensei pointed out made immediate sense to me, such as my grip on the shinai (bamboo sword). I was gripping much harder than what was needed. Again, I referenced back to holding a baseball bat while also relaxing the fingers. Often, you can see batters wiggle their fingers while at bat and so I tried to do the same. In due time, I will find my sweet spot with the shinai.

I also enjoyed the formal aspect of putting the Bogu (Kendo armor) on and taking it off after the training. The sensei spoke of respecting and caring for your gear, and I appreciated that as it played an essential role in my previous profession and I could easily relate.

Placing the Bogu prior to training. (photo downloaded from Pinterest)

The major element of the training I struggled with was being in the seiza (kneeling) position while we donned and removed the Bogu. We also received a talk from the head sensei while kneeling in this position at the conclusion of the training. I know it was very brief, but it felt like an eternity as my toes went numb. On the command to stand up, I wasn’t 100% certain my body was going to cooperate. It did and I could hear the sounds similar to the cracking of fireworks going off as my knees and ankles came back to life.

Seiza or kneeling position. (Photo downloaded from Pinterest)

Positives from Session #1

  • Introduction and application of Kendo strikes
  • Mental focus
  • Attitude
  • Fitness conditioning/ energy management
  • Importance of motor skill development
  • Application of tactical breathing and explosive energy

Areas needing improvement

  • Don’t work to impress
  • Remain present-not everything is a competition (it’s hard to even type that)
  • Shinai awareness -grip, strike placement, shinai angle prior to an attack
  • proper fitting and routine of donning/removing gear
  • Incorporate self-talk throughout training
  • Embrace the suck when in seiza position

Pat

Enter the Dojo, meeting with the G-Chief…

The Dojo where I train. (photo downloaded from Kyumeikan website)

My training started yesterday, and let me tell you, I am fired up! The first session was everything I envisioned and then some. The training also provided me some expectations and potential in regards to my development- professionally, personally, and academically. Before I get into some of the details, I feel it is essential to share the road to this Dojo.

After getting approval to pursue this course of action several months ago, I began research on prospective Kendo schools. One criterion for my training was I had to have a place to train. Makes sense, right? I identified several schools and attempted to vet them. I reached out to a researcher who had written about Kendo, and he provided some insight but did not have a recommendation on a school.

I also looked into Kendo clubs, which are common at educational institutions, but those were dead ends. I contacted many schools asking to be accepted, and to this date, I have gotten zero responses. While I experienced some frustration, I found myself even more determined. So, last week, I came to Japan, having no fixed location to train. Crazy, you say? Sure, okay, but I also have operated enough on crazy and pure determination so I took the plunge to fly over. Not always the preferred course of action but a course of action indeed.

I was also reminded of Gichin Funakoshi, credited with bringing the art of Karate from Okinawa to Japan. Before joining the Army, I read his autobiography. I recalled a story of his pursuit to train with a master in Okinawa when he was a young man. Funakoshi traveled by foot every day to the master’s home requesting to be trained. Early on, Funakoshi was told that the master did not reside at that home. Funakoshi returned daily, and eventually, the master spoke with him. Funakoshi was taught a few techniques and told to practice them and come back in a year. Funakoshi practiced for a year, returned to the master as instructed, and was formally accepted to train. By the way, the techniques he was shown and told to practice was made up by the master. The Sensei commented that Funakoshi had mastered the made-up techniques through his dedicated practice and persistence.

So, in that spirit, I visited several Dojos over the past two days. I had well over 20 leads and had rank-ordered them based on their reputation, reviews, and the number of training days during the week. On one occasion, I was rejected to train at a major Dojo after introducing myself. My Japanese is good enough that I can pick up certain phrases, and combined with body mannerisms, I sensed an unfavorable view to my request. It was similar to other types of endeavors when one steps into another unit or organization, and you get the vibe that this is not going to go well. That Dojo was not at the top of my list, so I moved on.

I went back to my top choice last night determined to train. I had stopped by the Dojo several days prior but got no response when I rang the bell on that occasion. I had sent them three emails previously with no response and was starting to have my doubts if this Dojo was going to work out. I’m glad I returned. I showed up an hour ahead of their published time for Wednesday training.

This time when I rang the bell, an elderly man responded from a second-story window. I stood on the street, bowed, introduced myself, and explained why I was there. He spoke decent English and told me to come back in an hour and a half.

“Here we go again” was the first thought that entered my mind. Before the gentleman closed the window, I asked if it would be okay to wait on the bench outside of his Dojo? He responded with a nod and a verbal, “hai.” It was cold, and I found myself thinking back to a training event some 29 years prior, where a team of students I was with had to deal with a guerrilla chief (G- Chief) to enter his base. That was the final exercise prior to becoming a Special Forces soldier. Rapport building 101 was about to play out. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

The elderly man eventually came down, opened the door, and invited me in. He mentioned classes start at 7:30 p.m., at which I responded with, “hai.” I thought in my head, the website stated 7:00, but oh well. He asked why I was there, and so I explained. He brought me upstairs and gestured me to have a seat. At least it wasn’t cold inside. He questioned me some more about my knowledge of Kendo. I could tell he was somewhat amused that I had no background in Kendo and traveled from the States determined to learn. I listened to him intently as he shared with me the history of the Dojo and how he had been practicing since the age of three. He never introduced himself, so I assumed he was the Sensei. But to make sure, I asked if he was Kubo Sensei, which he acknowledged. Know your target audience!

With that, he welcomed me into the Dojo and told me that the other students and Sensei would be showing up shortly. I had contemplated on whether to bring all my Kendo gear with me or not. A part of me expected to be told to observe, and bringing all my equipment may come across as somewhat presumptuous. On the other hand, I thought about how I would receive someone wanting to train with me? If one had all their gear, perhaps they were motivated and had already invested in training. So, I errored on the later and brought all my equipment, called Bogu (protective gear) and shinai (bamboo sword).

He continued to ask questions, and the thought of rapport building circulated in my mind several times. At one point, he wondered what else I intended to do in Japan. I told him my sole purpose was to study Kendo, and he then stated, “so, you can study 24 hours a day?” I responded with, “if your Dojo is open, and you allow me, I will be here 24 hours per day.”

I will cover the elements of training from the first session and key points I took away in a separate post tomorrow. The bottom line, it was a great initial session that energized my academic purpose along with the self-improvement I am seeking. It was also a blast to put on some kit again though it was different from the kit I am used to.

Pat

Navigating the chaos…

The first 24 hours (1/12 – 1/13) went mostly as planned. My training begins on Wednesday (1/15), so my plan going into this trip was to have two days to get acclimated to the area. I wanted to get the feel of the ground, get climatized, brush up on my language, settle into my tiny room, and check out routes.

Having traveled around Japan many times, I knew the transportation system could be intimidating. While I did some map study, there is always something about getting the “real-time” feel of an area- the nuances, people patterns, necessary sites (cafes, grocery stores, etc.) and movement times between locations. Take a look at the subway map posted above. Each color identifies a separate subway line. In addition to the subways, there is a similar web of routes for the numerous train lines (not pictured).

Day one found me logging in over 24,000 steps. The red star on the upper portion of the map is the general location of the Air BnB I will be at for six weeks. When I say Air BnB, think of it more along the lines of a large utility closet with a bed. The triangles on the map represent the various Dojo’s and equipment shops I will be visiting. I spent the first day checking out the best routes (quickest, least transfers) from the multiple points.

To get from Point ‘A’ to Point ‘B,’ you can expect to make various stops to transfer to another line. I used a combination of modern-day technology (Apps, portable MiFi) along with old-school techniques (pen/paper, reference points, and backstops) to navigate the web of chaos, also known as Tokyo. While it appears complex, it is rather fun and manageable. I think it comes down to attitude, more on that later.

Some of the legs were short, while others were anywhere from 20 to 45 minutes. It was during that time, I thought about navigating the chaos. Why do a reconnaissance before training? The simple answer is to get my timings and routes down to minimize the chaos that could occur later. I personally hate to be late. Yeah, maybe my military experience influences that some, but I believe it is more than that. As I step into the Dojo on Wednesday, I feel I am representing many things to a group of folks who know nothing about me. As I will be assessing them, I fully expect and welcome them to do the same. I will be representing America, the academic institution, and my family, among other things.

I have often reminded myself and the Soldiers I have led to consider the importance of reputation. So, being on time, ready to train, and a proper attitude are elements of the reputation I want to forge with the folks I will be interacting with at the Dojo. So yeah, attitude is everything with me.

Some that know me will say that I am hard-headed or maybe have a high standard when it comes to the issue of attitude. For much of my life, I was amid folks ready to react to life and death issues. How we trained mattered whether it involved mission success, survivability, or operational capabilities. Attitude played an important role. Attitude affects what you put in and take away from training. I believe that is the case with life itself.

So, in my quiet time, navigating the chaos of Tokyo, I reflected on attitude.
While the complexity of the railway system offers a picture of chaos, the truth of the matter is that chaos can be present internally and externally. In the realm of the internal chaos, it could manifest as being amped up, fear, anxiety, lack of confidence, or other means. So, another reason to establish a baseline up front for me is to help gain some familiarity. Later, when Murphy shows up, there will likely be less chaos or crisis needing my attention. A clearer mind lends to a better focus on the task at hand. I believe that and want to go into the Dojo with that mindset.

Osu!

Pat

The journey continues….

Welcome to a White Belt’s Journey! Why “white belt,” you say? I am glad you asked, allow me to share. As a youth, I was fortunate to spend countless hours in the Dojo. In many martial arts, the belt a practitioner wears signifies their rank and experience. I recall seeing senior black belts with worn-out belts with the black stitching frayed displaying the base color of the belt, which was white. It symbolized something that has stuck with me throughout my life’s journey.

My sensei would explain that to attain a black belt was only a portion of the journey. You see, when a beginner enters the Dojo, they begin as a white belt. Through hard work, sweat and blood, and years of practice, the belt will lose its original white color. Once one attains the black belt, they must continue their development, and strands of the black belt may disappear over time, displaying the shade of white, the base of the belt.

I have thought about that symbolic picture and entertained the thought of what it means to be an expert in one’s field throughout my military career and life in general. I have often heard that mastering the basics is expertise. As I transitioned from being a career soldier, I focused on continued development while embracing the fact that life has a lot to offer after 30+ years in the military. My journey branched off to graduate-level studies in performance psychology to pursue excellence in my life, along with helping others who desire the same.

This blog will capture insights into my experiences as I study the art of Kendo. My journey will take me to Japan, where I will enroll in a Kendo Dojo. Why Kendo, you ask? Kendo is an art that I am not familiar with. This creates some dynamics for me to test and apply the principles and tools I have studied during my graduate course. I have used many performance enhancement tools throughout my military career and life in general. However, being isolated in culture and challenging my decision-making skills to apply performance-related tools will be invaluable. I want to be in an environment where I am truly a white belt literally and figuratively.

I believe it is one thing to study theories and research conducted by other people. I have often approached things from having to test them out myself. Likewise, this journey is a means for me to test some things out. I feel there is value in testing things out on myself to gain confidence and trust before encouraging others to apply it in their lives.

I am looking forward to this segment of my journey and gaining insight and developing to better myself and others. I invite you to follow along and offer your thoughts. I find value in hearing the opinions and feedback of others. I am open to constructive feedback and recommendations. This next leg of my journey will begin in a few days as I head out to Japan. I am mission-ready, motivated, and ready for this challenge.

– Pat