As Iron Sharpens Iron...

The day I started teaching martial arts classes to young men out of our home, I put one of my favorite proverbs on the wall: “As Iron Sharpens Iron, So One Man Sharpens Another,” Proverbs 27:17. It allowed me to express my faith in a small way and it was often a conversation starter for some of the young guys that were training with us. Moreover, it was a testament to what martial arts training is supposed to be about. At least in my book, anyway.

A martial arts dojo is one of the few places where you can be uniquely challenged and challenge others. It’s not a gym, not an aerobics class. And it’s more than just patting someone on the back. Complimenting someone is easy; being a good partner is hard and requires you to give a little, sometimes a lot of yourself. Like any relationship, people are directly impacted by what you are willing to bring to it.

I remember the cold, often snowy nights in Misawa, Japan training in the unheated aikido dojo. The training was severe; the closest Japanese phrase for that is kibishi. Most of us understood this, and that’s why there were never a whole lot of students at that particular school. We had a very tight-knit group including our instructors who endured just as much pain and suffering as we did. And if you didn’t come prepared to give your 100%, you didn’t reap the benefits of the training. It’s not like anybody would kick you out, but nobody wanted to train with a complainer, whiner, or “milk toast” kind of guy. You just can’t learn anything from a person like that. Some times one of our teachers would invite the core group of folks out to the onsen or hot bath after training. It was awesome because the onsen was a block away from the dojo and I can’t begin to describe how rejuvenating it was after harsh training. Even more awesome: there was beer afterwards. Along with the camaraderie and good spirits, it was a reward for pushing ourselves and each other.

I often say the most important thing I learned in Japan was not aikido, but budo, the way to enlightenment through martial training. And one of the significant things about training with others is to show up and be a good partner, to give it everything you have, every time. A dojo, a real dojo is one of the few places left in the world today where everybody is on the same playing field. Things like gender, politics and social status don’t matter once you put on your uniform and step onto the mat. Once you eliminate all the superfluous stuff, people are left only with their actions or reactions in any given moment. As we see so frequently these days, people will show their true intentions when they are challenged. Having things that feed our ego stripped away, can be very challenging indeed.

My kids grew up training with me at whatever military base we happened to be assigned to. And they wore plain, white gis (uniforms). No patches or tabs to distinguish them from others. No special treatment from their dad. In fact, I was often harder on them. I’ve treated all of our students the same way regardless of who they were or what their background was. Once you start recognizing what makes people different or “special,” they not only cease to reach their potential, but they hamper others in the process.

Every one of our core students remembers what it was like when they first started training with us. I usually give people a few classes to get acclimated and then we have a “purge” class. Relentless conditioning, calisthenics, rolls, etc. Everybody knows it’s coming because everybody has gone through it. And the reactions from new students are always the same; “I never thought it would be this hard.” It doesn’t matter what kind of shape they are or in or think they are in; martial arts is a different kind of hard. Like other aspects of my training and teaching philosophy, it’s probably not a great business model. But the day I start making it easy or accommodating is the day I should hang it up.

The amazing thing, the thing that keeps me pursuing this passion is what happens after a purge session or a belt test when someone has clearly done all they’ve can to keep going. Those who have been here a while will gather around the novice and stand him back up, physically and mentally. And just like it was for me in Japan, not everybody gets that kind of encouragement from the group. People willing to push themselves on a frequent basis have a tough time feeling empathy for folks who expect to be coddled instead of challenged. There are no harsh words or mean treatment. It’s more like a respectful kind of neglect. More than one beginner or intermediate student has been pulled to the side and “coached” by a senior to toughen up. I quietly encourage this because if someone expects to be treated differently for whatever reason, I don’t want them here. Once you start making exceptions for people, everyone is affected in some way.

There needs to be a place or two where people are still challenged and held to physical and behavior standards. A place where nobody cares where you come from or what your status is; only what you bring every time you come to train. That is how one person sharpens another.

Dave Magliano

Tatsu Dojo

Jissenkan Budo

Dojo Cho