08/03/2026
The last lesson and the lasting lesson
The day before Sensei became unresponsive he and I were watching Okinawan dancers perform their balanced, slow movements. We talked about Uehara Sensei and how he would apply these techniques to locking and throws. Sensei took my hand which he twisted this way and that way. Surprisingly, Sensei’s grip was both strong and nuanced even near the end. He laughed as I winced.
He was getting tired and said “Well, tomorrow I will show you the applications because nobody really understands it now.” From his bed he made the small hand gestures he often would, rolling his wrists. I held his hands and I thanked him and told him I loved him. That was the last martial lesson that we had together, but it wasn’t the last lesson for life, which leads to another story 28 years earlier.
One day, 30 years ago, Sensei and another student were working together doing their landscaping projects. (Sensei owned a landscaping business.) He told the student it was a very special day and when asked why Sensei replied, “Because today is the day that I am older than Gusukuma Sensei.” Sensei said that now he had the responsibility to take the things that he learned and be better than his teacher. He said every student should strive to “make better”.
Now it is highly improbable that any one of us will be better than Sensei at karate. His uncanny abilities were unmatched and built upon relentless, refined practice. And then there’s the pedigree which had him in the right (and wrong) place at the right (and wrong) time for much of 20th century Okinawan history and karate. Anyone I have ever personally met doesn’t come close to him in both regards and I think for most of us that would be true. As for outliving Sensei as he did Gusukuma, that’s also unlikely. 92 is a long time. But therein lies the lasting lesson.
Aside from the martial insights that he passed on to us and aside from giving us the opportunity to develop such deep friendships, he did leave us a third virtue. This is the virtue of perpetual striving to make each day better than the day before, whether it is with our family or our jobs or our training or how we cut the grass. He recognized the ikigai, the meaningful purpose, of everything. He was always trying to improve. (Except driving. He never quite got that.) Likely we will not outlive Sensei, but tomorrow can be a better day than today. Then we can hear him say as he so often would, “Ah. Ok. Almost pretty good.”
Photo by Pattrick Yockey
