Shortly before we left Japan, I had one final dinner party with a man fairly well known in Aikido, Issoyama Shihan. He was not my direct teacher, but frequently visited our dojo in Japan as our school fell under his jurisdiction. I was fortunate that Issoyama-san took a special interest in me; for my part, I dedicated a great deal of time and effort to study Aikido and Japanese culture. Along with my teacher, Yamamoto-san, I participated in fascinating discussions with Issoyma over many cups of sake and beer, about martial arts, warrior culture, and of course, Aikido. These talks would last late into the evening, typically at Yamamoto's small home in Misawa after all of the other students and guests had gone home. Though I wish I would have had a notepad to record everything we talked about, I retained a lot.
Issoyama had a bit of reputation as militant teacher; stands to reason, since he had served in the Japanese military. His Aikido was not pretty or fancy; it was powerful and painful, two aspects that continue to ruffle the feathers of some of today's practitioners who, seems to me, have turned the art into some type of social experiment for weekend warriors. And though Issoyama was attached to the Aiki Kai (the governing body of the Aikido, as it were), he didn't always follow the well accepted pretense that a student of the art had the "responsibility" not to harm an opponent. That concept has been around for several decades now, and in my opinion, has all but destroyed the perception and reputation of Aikido. Whenever you start spreading the notion that you can get into a street fight and tie someone up into a neat little package without causing any damage, you invite all kinds of soft bodied and soft minded individuals with little or no understanding of reality. Issoyama's Aikido was not soft and had the potential to cause a great deal of harm. To take a hit from him or to be placed in one of his vice-grip joint locks was never pleasant or pain free. It hurt because it was supposed to.
If you read these posts on a regular basis, (thank you), then you probably know that I frequently mention my experience with Issoyama-san, mainly because of the impact he had on my life and my martial arts training. He was the only Japanese martial arts teacher I studied under who often spoke of the importance of training in other styles, e.g. Karate or Kendo. He helped me to realize the fact that all martial arts have good and bad points and that they are all related in some way. After my experience with him, I came to the realization that you cannot hope to master a given system or style unless you have experiences outside of it. In fact, you limit yourself and your abilities if you only stick with one thing. Let's take Brazilian Jujitsu, for example. The art has gained so much popularity that you can find a BJJ gym just about anywhere. As I have said before, they are fine athletes and devastatingly efficient on the ground, but generally that's all they know. Pit your average BJJ exponent against someone who knows how to check a leg pick and strike, and you take away much of their ability. The same can be said for anyone who only does sport Karate; get past a few strikes and take them down and they are lost. A martial artist is just that; a practitioner of "military" arts and tactics. Multiple arts and tactics.
While Issoyama-san represented the Aiki Kai, he didn't always fall in line with its precepts and ideals. This is what made him such a great teacher and mentor. He had real world experience, plenty of tussles with dudes who had no boundaries. I don't remember what other arts practiced, but he sure as hell knew how to hit. During our last supper party, he gave me a gift that hangs in our dojo today, the picture that you see at the top of this post. Aside from my name on the right and his name on the left, the center stands out to me. The phrase is Jissen, pronounced "gee sen," which has two meanings: "To put something into daily practice," and "Real combat." In essence, to put all of the factors of real combat training into daily practice. Real combat, like your life depends on it. If you knew in the future that you were going to have your home invaded and you had no choice but to fight, would you not try to prepare yourself? Maybe you'd acquire and learn how to use a firearm or take a few hand-to-hand combat courses. You would upgrade your home security system, perhaps get yourself mentally and physically prepared. Or, maybe you'd just sit back, watch more movies, eat more crap, smoke a joint or two and live under the assumption that everybody, deep down, is good. Maybe you think that you can reason with a person bent on robing, injuring or killing you and that you have no right to hurt them if you are attacked. All you have to do is put them in a little arm lock and hug it out. If that's you, forgive me, but you're an idiot.
Please don't get me wrong; I'm not a fan of violence. I can't stand the UFC or any other types of gladiator sports. To me, that's nothing more than unmitigated brutality for the sake of entertainment. But I have always believed that if you're going to train in the martial arts, you have to do so with the intent of applying them some day. You have to study and train like your life depends on it. If you treat it like that and not just a hobby or an interesting way to spend a Tuesday night, you will notice changes in your fitness, mental toughness and discipline. You'll get used to being uncomfortable, sore, bruised and humbled. If none of those things are happening to you on a frequent basis, you are not in a dojo and you are not studying a martial art.
Our dojo is named, Tatsu on my brother's advice. Advertising guru that he is, he knew nobody would remember or be interested in the name of our system, Jissenkan Budo. Roughly stated, it means, "house of real combat methods and philosophies practiced daily." That's why you can come here on any given day and learn concepts in Aikido, Karate and Jujutsu. That's why I'm very hard on anyone who demonstrates promise; you don't have to try to get your black belt here and you don't have to test if you don't want to. But if you want to attain higher levels of ability, I'm going to push you harder each time. I'm going to rub your face in dirt, hurt your feelings and make you question why you come here once in a while. I will make sure that you are humbled, beaten, bruised and exhausted. Humility is the birthplace of growth.
If you are a member here, train hard. Train often. Don't cut yourself any slack; don't roll over and sleep a little more when you can get up and push yourself. You can sleep when you're dead. Discipline is not something that floats around waiting to fall on you. Rather, it is something that must be learned, pursued and constantly stoked. Live every day like it's your last. Don't be a gardener in a war; be a warrior in the garden.
Dave Magliano
Tatsu Dojo
Jisenkan Budo
Dojo Cho
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