Some decades ago, I remember Sensei telling me a story about how he had trained with a master in Japan, whom I unfortunately no longer remember his name, who would always say “one love, one life and one style…” The premise was pretty simple; in this one life we have, we should only have one true, genuine love. I was lucky enough to find this person in my lovely wife. But the focus of today’s post is about the last piece. That being, one style.
The beautiful thing about karate and martial arts in general, is that it’s a puzzle with a million pieces and so long as one is genuinely training to learn the art, they will never reach the end. For some, this may be a bit of a morose statement but to a true student of the martial way, feeling as though you have nothing left to learn can be far, far worse. So it rather plays on the aspect that no matter how skilled, knowledgeable or advanced your become, there will always be someone better.
All that being said and as I’ve often said before, martial arts is a very subjective thing. A style that suits one person may not be a good fit for someone else. Once you find a style that fits your needs, comfort and lifestyle, it should generally be the one you cling to for life. Switching styles does happen, but there are usually underlying reasons for this and should typically be avoided. One cannot learn something only part way before moving on to the next. It’s important o stick with your style and continue to train to learn and advance as far as you can (and are willing to go).
Just to be clear, this doesn’t mean that one shouldn’t increase their overall toolbox by dabbling in other things. One of the best selling points about the martial arts is that it holds a vast menu that can be picked from, for the aspects one feels one may be lacking. For example, karate has always been a good fit for me because I’ve always felt that the ability to defend myself empty-handed was important. You know, considering most of us don’t go walking around with a weapon. That being said, I’ve also taken to training with some weapons in order to bridge that gap.
This is similar to how an empty-handed fighter may choose to learn some grappling or throwing, or how a boxer or fist fighter may want to learn some kicks. Adding to one’s repertoire is never a bad thing but the basic lesson is that the student will always stick to, and come back to, their home style. Such has been the same for me. Although I’ve had the privilege and the honour to train with a couple of different styles since moving out to Saskatchewan, I’ve stayed true to my roots and always trained in Uechi Ryu. And I don’t really foresee that changing.
So, what happens when a student walks away from their dojo completely? And worse still, takes the skills and lessons you’ve taught them and brings them somewhere where they begin to teach them as a separate school? The history of karate is rife with such instances. One very notable example is a popular style of full contact karate named Kyokushinkai. This style‘s founder was originally a practitioner of Goju-Ryu karate and eventually splintered off to found his own style. Ironically, even THAT style would go on to help inspire and found many subsequent styles.
The question becomes, is it right to do so? And at what point do you face potentially watering down the style you’ve learned, simply to try and teach something of your own? For the most part, when a student wishes to open their own dojo or even teach or pass on what they’ve learned, dojo code of conduct would seem to dictate that they get their Sensei’s consent, first. Hell, I’ve never even trained in another dojo without first throwing a quick email to my Sensei, back in New Brunswick, to talk about and ask if he’s okay with it.
What becomes a bit sad is when a student decides to leave the dojo without their instructor’s consent and begins teaching others. Not only is this an incredible breach of etiquette and flies in the face of what martial arts is all about, it’s a bit hypocritical. After all, if there was something wrong enough with your dojo that you’ve decided to leave it, why would you take all those teachings and continue to pass them on? The other issue is that without the support of your home dojo to help, monitor and continue to provide correction, you never know what mistakes or technical errors you may inadvertently pass on to your newly-acquired students.
Be true to yourself but don’t forget to be true to your dojo. If there’s something that you feel is inherently wrong within your dojo, the idea would be ot take the opportunity to speak about it with your Sensei, not running off. And as much as some students may have a yearning to teach what they’ve learned, they shouldn’t do so without the consent and approval of their instructor. After all, thinking you’re ready doesn’t make it so. And dishonouring you or Sensei by opening a school and teaching without his consent waters down the purity of the martial arts, overall. Such as it is. Food for thought… ☯️
The Blogging Buddhist 