Year: 2014

From Bujinkan Santa Monica by Michael Glenn

Michael Glenn Shares a Stone from the Santa Monica Mountains with Hatsumi Sensei

My punch at Soke left me hanging over the depths. Beneath me was the profound moment of life or death falling into darkness below. I felt I could sink with it.

Above was Hatsumi Sensei, who had just bounced me off the surface of this pond like skipping a stone across the water. I looked at him, he laughed. He wasn't going to let me sink. Not today.

Not today because he is sharing the idea of skipping a stone across the water with the whole class. Last week he used this image again and again in his classes. And right now I was the stone.

When I heard him talk about this in previous classes, I nodded my head. The concept made sense to me. It reminded me of another image he had used last year of 乗換 norikae. Changing trains, going from one track (or technique, kyusho, etc…) to another.

But now when I experienced what it felt like to be the skipped stone, I realized there was so much more. There is the stone, the person throwing, and the surface across which you fly. But there is also the entire body of water. What lies beneath?

If you've ever skipped stones across a pond, you may recall the rhythm. If you have a nice flat stone and a good throw (angle and speed), the stone will skip or bounce off the surface a few times. The first bounce is long, the second shorter, and each one after has less space between bounces. You may even get 6 or 7 before the stone sinks.

But the stone does sink. Just as the opponent is defeated. The final result is the sinking of the attacker into the depths.

Hatsumi Sensei wants us to focus on 間 aida. This is the space between, or the interval from one time the stone contacts the water to the next. During this moment, the stone flies through the air, but falls again toward the water.

Today, in this class as Hatsumi Sensei's uke, I am powerless to stop myself from hitting the surface again.

In this moment, this aida... I skim across the surface and I glimpse something that really surprises me, and that I don't know how to explain. I realize my fate is in the depths below. I am going to sink. But when I look down at the water I also see Soke's reflection, smiling at me.

When he describes to the class a stone skipping across the water, it is easy to think of a stone, of throwing, and watching it bounce across the water. But that is the training that exists above the surface. That is beginner stuff. When you pass Godan you may glimpse below the surface.

He was not just skipping a stone. He was drawing on the power of the depths below without sinking into them himself. And even more, he had decided that he was not going to let me sink either. I felt that at the end. He let me see deeply into the depths of our training by protecting me from what was beneath.

I'm sure this all sounds crazy, but describing what I felt is difficult. So I offer you the metaphor of the skipping stone that Hatsumi Sensei gave us. It is up to you if you want to pick up the stone for your own training.… Read More

From Bujinkan Santa Monica by Michael Glenn

Hatsumi Sensei Shares with us, photo by Michael Glenn

Last week Hatsumi Sensei set a tone for class that was subtle but very important. It started in a way that I have experienced before with Soke, with a show and tell before class. He brought out a sack full of books to show us.

Soke said these books were tales of ninjutsu 名人 meijin. They were mostly children's books and many were illustrated budo legends. But something was different about these from ordinary comics or manga.

Before I explain the difference, let me describe an experience from my own life that has the same echoes. It is an experience that is natural as you age, but the pace of change in our current era make it extreme. In my lifetime, a major change is the internet and smart phones.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about this in relation to the experience of learning, training and daily life itself. Many people younger than me did not experience life before cellphones and the internet. They may not know that it had a different quality.

You had to learn differently. Train differently. Find and connect with teachers differently. This made your entire way of thinking.. different.

I have observed the effects of this change in younger students in the Bujinkan. Some aspects of it are really wonderful and Hatsumi Sensei embraces change like no one else. But our art was born of a different time and manner of training.

When I was a kid, I couldn't just look stuff up. I couldn't easily call or text my friends. We had to agree to meet (physically) somewhere ahead of time. Or just find each other.

That happened. Even with my own Bujinkan teacher, I followed my instincts and just found him. There was no website, or even a flyer with a phone number.

This may seem like silly "old man" nostalgia. But really, life was different. You HAD to learn stuff differently. Very few bother to learn this way anymore. Or experience the world through the interface of instinct and their senses.

When I teach Bujinkan, people struggle to remember the littlest things. And their first instinct is to reach for their phone to look it up.

But let's get back to class last week and Soke's books.

Many of these books came from when Hatsumi Sensei and Noguchi Sensei were children. Soke said to Noguchi, "you probably read these as a child…" and Noguchi said, "yes, then we would go outside for ちゃんばら chanbara with sticks" (play sword fights).

Hatsumi Sensei was a bit nostalgic when he spoke of reading these kind of books by candlelight. He said it was before television and children were riveted to these stories. Hearing him speak about this in person rekindled my own sense memories and childhood feelings of a time before things changed.

In Hatsumi Sensei's lifetime there have been enormous changes. Both for Japan and the world. The way people live in the world and interface with it for learning is not the same as that kind of candlelight inspiration from his childhood.

That night in the Hombu dojo he told us that Japan used to have this kind of warrior culture and it is important to preserve it. He said that the Bujinkan has it's own 文化 bunka or cultural heritage. He said we have to preserve these things because they represent and express the abundance of humanity.

One of the special things about martial arts training is that it HAS to be learned in the old way. With your mind, body, and heart working together. And it can only be passed down from a connection from teachers to students through their lives, experiences, and personal histories.

I come to Japan and train with teachers who lived in a time when the Japanese warrior culture was still alive as part of the fabric of their childhoods. And some of my teachers trained with Takamatsu Sensei which takes the thread of connection back even further into ages before internet, TV, radio, cars, telephones…

Back to a time when all they had for training was found in nature, the denshou, or in a teacher's heart.

What did the warriors learn then? And how did they learn it? This is the core of our Bujinkan heritage. Thank you Hatsumi Sensei for sharing that with us.

… Read More

From Bujinkan Santa Monica by Michael Glenn

I arrived early to the dojo because I'm like that, and I helped Senou Sensei cut some fresh 榊 sakaki for the shelf behind us.

When he unlocked the dojo, he walked in and was a bit emotional. He took some time examining everything because things were different. He told me it had been nearly two years since he had taught here.

Then he taught a great class. He told everyone there that all of the good thoughts from people in the Bujinkan had helped him to regain his health.… Read More

From Bujinkan Santa Monica by Michael Glenn

師恩 Shion on the wall in Soke's house. photo by Michael Glenn

I want to give you a clue for how to study in the Bujinkan. This clue I will share below comes directly from Hatsumi Sensei. But first, let me tell you why your teacher may not even know this.

Some teachers follow the teachings of Hatsumi Sensei, but many do not. Many have their own ideas about how the Bujinkan should be taught or transmitted. This is a mistake that many who claim to follow Soke will make without even knowing it.

They develop their own curriculum and make their students learn and study in ways that have never been part of the Bujinkan. This includes many lost people who think they can recreate the early training of the old days. If you weren't there, then you don't know. But I guess you can make stuff up.

Bujinkan arts are taught very differently from other martial arts and that is quite intentional. It is a natural strategy that Hatsumi Sensei has chosen. And if you don't understand it, there is a reason for that as well.

Hatsumi Sensei is an artist. How do artists learn from one another? Primarily by inspiration. If you have ever been inspired, think about the energy that put into your mind, your heart, or your body. This energy moves you to act.

Hatsumi Sensei says that beyond even heart to heart transmission is 絵心伝心 eshin (egokoro) denshin. This is artistic inspiration passed from one artist to another. This happens instinctively for artists, but it cannot be put in any training manual.

Like many things Soke tells us, this is a play on words relating artistic inspiration to 以心伝心 ishindenshin which is a mutual and natural understanding between people that borders on telepathy. This is when you can give somebody a glance and they know exactly what you mean.

This artistic inspiration and mutual understanding guided me to Hatsumi Sensei's dojo in the first place. We didn't know each other and had never spoke. But our hearts communicated across time, culture, and distance to bring us together.

Soke says that this is the path of Budo. Nothing needs to be explained or said. By training with and being in the presence of such a teacher, you just get it.

This is how I study Bujinkan. I use 画心 gashin or an artistic instinct that I have developed and received from many years of being inspired by my teachers. And I repay their 師恩 shion (a teacher's grace and kindness) with gratitude by sharing this inspiration with my students.… Read More