Well, first of all, what a great time we had at our annual holiday party – even if we did hold it in February of the following year, heh heh. I’m glad that so many of you could make it to Krazy Karaoke for good food, good desserts, good music, good singing, and most importantly, great fellowship. I do want to especially thank: Sensei Trish for leading the fun with her amusing and pertinent games/prizes, Sempai Ken for donating money (he insisted!) to add to the club funds used for prizes/gifts (I think everyone went home with something), Kohai Donna’s dad (Jimmy) for reserving this prime room and time for us at KK, and thanks to the Dumlao/Fukuda sisters for manning the hard-to-figure-out (for your hapless Sensei) karaoke electronic equipment. Thanks to everyone’s efforts and expertise, the party went really smoothly. It was really great to meet and interact with family members of the students, wear regular clothes:) and relax together. I was also happy that even our son, Matt (Trisha’s big brother) made the effort to drop by and join us. In case you’re wondering; yes, he also used to train in the lineup just like each of you, Matt was an ikkyu brown belt and eligible for the Shodan exam before his college studies and music activities gradually pulled him away some fifteen years ago. He still remembers his basics.

Lately, amongst all of your senseis, our minds have turned again and again on the importance of basics, basics, basics. Not surprisingly,we always emphasize, especially in Shotokan, the need to continuously practice the basics. As you know, we spend much of our time, doing repetitions of the reverse punch, the down-middle-high level blocks, the forward stance, the back stance, and the front-snap kick. Why do we this, when there are literally thousands of techniques, combinations, and drills within Shotokan Karate-Do? It’s because none of the thousands of neat/interesting/flashy aspects of karate is worth anything, unless at the core of the technique, lies the strength/commitment/purity that only strong basics can give you. Practicing basics does not mean just doing the same old, same old; nor does it mean doing it simple – what it does mean however, is doing it BETTER. If done correctly, with heart, with patience, with focus, with mind/spirit/body as one…nothing can stop you from getting better and better. What is the greatest obstacle to overcome?…FRUSTRATION. The day you learn to overcome frustration, you will have learned one of karate-do’s (and one of life’s) great lessons.

As I mentioned at training, the other night, people will inevitably judge you, not by how many things you know and can do, but rather, by how WELL you can do the simplest thing. It’s funny but, whenever an old-time karateka comes back to the training hall after a long (possibly years) absence, he/she may forget all of the katas and various combinations – but if they took the time/effort to develop strong basics, these gifts cannot be taken from them and are easily spotted by everyone. In other words, strong basics may be so very hard to achieve, yet these stay with you for a lifetime. Though it take years, once you master the basics…then you are ready to learn the many other practical, effective, powerful, quick and interesting aspects of karate-do. When one finally makes it to Shodan (1st level black belt), it only means that he/she has become competent in the basics – and is finally ready to learn something.

I like to think of the time spent in training as an ongoing time of equipping for each of us. In the bigger scheme of things, you’re always working to equip yourself for the many challenges you will face in everyday life. In the shock and speed of a rare real-life altercation, you are more than likely to respond just the way you have trained – if you always train half-heartedly, with no power/speed/balance, then you’re in real trouble. If you train with full commitment/focus/purpose – then you have given yourself at least a chance of mitigating a bad situation. Thought of in this way, your training takes on a greater meaning and importance – not just for the 60 minutes spent at the dojo, but for that split-second (which may never come), and for the 99.999% rest of your life spent away from the dojo. Therefore, doesn’t it make sense to always train as if your very life depended upon it?