HIS Karate-Do

Click to see the full panoramic photo The other day, as we were cleaning our old home, I came across a thick, old, rolled up poster…or so I thought. Upon unrolling the “poster”, I discovered that it was an old loooong black and white photo from my dad’s house, that I hadn’t ever seen before. Some you older folks have seen these before; the super-wide funeral photo that used to be taken at old-style Japanese funerals in Hawaii. Staring back at me in suits and black dresses were the stern faces of perhaps 150 mourners (the only time, I think, when the photographer doesn’t say “Smile!” or “Cheese!”). It was dated Feb 7, 1958; a half-century ago and captured the large group of friends and relatives who attended the service for Shunshin Shimabukuro – my Okinawan grandfather. My very capable IT friend was able to scan the long narrow photo into a 15 megabyte file and Voila! I was able to view it on my PC. Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, I was able to to magnify the image by 700% without losing hardly any clarity. I looked in wonder, as my mom’s face filled the screen, gazing [...]

In any normal dojo, one always notices the sensei, the sempais, the color belts, and the white belts. It’s natural; they’re moving and kiai-ing the whole time. The folks one never really notices are those few who are sitting on the sidelines, just watching class. You know, the parents or older siblings who drove the kids to practice, or perhaps a student from another class, spouses, or friends, etc. Anyways, they’ll faithfully come and watch for so many classes and hours that they end up blending into and become part of the walls and furniture. For example, my wife has watched karate so much, over the years, that by osmosis, she has actually become knowledgeable about many of the techniques and can generally tell if a karateka is any good, just by watching for a moment. Anyways, I’d like to talk about one of these faithful watchers who was sometimes a member of our dojo’s sparse audience nearly twenty years ago. Mr. Young was an elderly Chinese gentleman, who would quietly come through our dojo (by weekday, a school cafeteria) doors and take a seat at one of the long dining tables. I probably didn’t even notice him the first [...]

If someone were to ask me as to whether I ever get emotional about the martial arts and karate in particular, the answer is “Yes”. Now, there’s emotion and there’s emotion. I’m not talking about the following things, which I experience quite often: the feeling of fulfillment anytime a student “gets it right”, or the awe of seeing a great karate technician execute flawless technique, or that feeling of comeraderie one shares with his/her fellow karateka in class, or even the thrills and excitement of a large tournament or a hard examination, etc. Instead, I’m talking about the deep emotional responses that can bring mixed feelings of pride, love, devotion, loyalty, and so on. You know, the kind of fierce, deep feelings that can almost bring tears to one’s eyes, and a strange warming of the heart. As dumb as this sounds, this most often happens if I’m watching a particular movie, which, under the right conditions, can evoke a response from within me. Right now, that old 1960 movie, “The Magnificent Seven”, is playing on my television (hence, the inspiration for today’s note). It’s one of my favorites, and I have probably watched it twenty times or more, over [...]