Iaido as a Japanese martial art that involves drawing a sword and dispatching an adversary as quickly and efficiently as possible. The literal translation is “the way (do) of mental presence and immediate reaction.” Iaido is a solemn practice; there is no live opponent, just you and your katana (sword) and saya (scabbard). To someone unfamiliar with the practice, it looks pretty easy as do most Japanese martial ways, or budo. All you’re really doing is pulling the sword out and slicing, right? Ah, no. There are intricate, subtle movements with every action, from the moment you kneel on the floor to the way you hold your gaze. Much like the tea ceremony, iaido is an art that involves perfection of every single movement. It is an extraordinarily challenging martial art because it is so mentally taxing. Iaido requires extreme focus.
I stumbled upon an iaido class at the Misawa City Budokan during my military service in Japan. Budokan means, “house of martial arts.” There were several martial arts offered, including judo, Shrinji Kempo, iaido…even sumo. Side note, a sumo match is fought on a dirt floor and the sumo class at the budokan actually had a dirt pit in the building. Anyway, I had always wanted to learn the way of the Japanese sword and I thought it would complement my aikido training. Let me just provide a phrase that I have become accustomed to saying many times throughout my life: I was wrong. Now, aikido employs some impressive sword work, primarily with a wooden sword, or boken. But there are huge differences in technique and implication. Not a typo…implication.
As with the Misawa City Gym where I studied aikido, the budokan was not heated or air-conditioned. Winters were pretty brutal, worse when you’re kneeling on a hardwood floor. For the first few months of my initial iaido training, I was not permitted to hold a weapon, not even a wooden sword. I was given very little instruction, using my hands to make the basic drawing and cutting movements, practicing body advancement from a kneeling position, etc. There was absolutely no talking other than basic instruction. There was also no laughing, no grunting. Every iaido practice was quiet except for the sound of swords slicing the air. There was no conversation after class. Students would quietly kneel on the floor and fold their hakama, the skirt like pants seen in traditional Japanese budo. I was the only westerner there; I had no friends, not even people I’d call acquaintances. It was kind of like going to a monastery.
I felt privileged when I was finally allowed to use a wooden sword. And over time, one of the two teachers provided me with more instruction, though slightly disjointed because of my minimal understanding of the language. After 10 months, I finally received a practice katana…I mean, I had to pay for it, but my instructor ordered it for me. He also taught me how to clean and care for the weapon, another painstaking process that takes place after every training session. But I still hadn’t made any friends at the iaido dojo until my wife made everybody chocolate chip cookies. That night, I was the bomb.
Unfortunately, I had to give up iaido so that I could focus all of my effort on aikido. These are two separate martial arts that require complete immersion and dedication if you truly want to learn. This type of dedication and determination is foreign to westerns, especially here in America. You see, if you really want to master a martial art someday, you have to apply yourself every day to that goal, knowing that you will never achieve it. That’s tough for the American mindset; we generally acquire skills in much the same way we acquire cars or shoes. Most of us are not interested or dedicated enough to spend time on simple, mundane techniques and practices like kata and other basic movements. We’d rather “get in there,” throw the gloves on and spar or grapple and pick things up along the way. But this is not budo.
I’ve been asked several times why I really don’t teach kids classes. Well, because I don’t want to compete with baseball, football, dance and soccer, much less Tik Tok. Likewise, it’s been suggested that we offer “self-defense” classes. The down and dirty, this is how you kick somebody’s groin kind of classes. I’d rather not. I’d rather not be a child’s entertainment for an 45 minutes nor do I wish to provide quick and easy answers to people just looking to feel safer. If you want that, go buy a gun and learn how to use it. Budo is a daily pursuit of self perfection. It requires dedication and discipline through denial of comfort and the willingness to accept and endure pain with no guarantee of success, much less pats on the back for showing up. If you happen to be member of our dojo, now you know why we don’t have a huge facility. Budo is not for everybody. Anyone can practice, but few will.
Our dojo is for individuals willing to sacrifice comfort and adulation for the pursuit of mental, physical and spiritual evolution. It starts with denying your ego. It starts with humility. Anyone can do this at any age…but few will. And many martial arts schools make it super easy for everyone to join and “train.” But I would argue that real budo is not inclusive; real budo is actually exclusive. Not a populate statement these days, but it’s accurate.
A dojo is about community, but not an all-inclusive one. It is a community of individuals who strive for self-perfection and do the necessary things to get there. Anybody can do it, but few will. Budo is not for everybody.
Dave Magliano
Tatsu Dojo
Jissenkan Budo
Dojo Cho
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