Bujinkan Taka-Seigi Dojo San Diego

The choice is yours or rather you train your reaction. There’s still a choice there.

~Student Quote of the Week
“Crap, I’m sorry, I kicked you in the gibblies…” – Tyger

~Training Highlight of the Week
This week’s highlight comes from our training in sutemi waza, particularly Tomoe Nage.

As uke, Tomoe Nage will definitely test your ability to adapt and change in an instant.

Sometimes tori holds on a little too long and there is no beautiful roll. Instead, you’re suddenly flipped over and scrambling for a solid side breakfall while hoping you don’t pancake into the mat.

Other times, tori pushes a little too enthusiastically with the foot and suddenly you’re flying much higher and farther than expected. Now the comfortable roll you were planning has disappeared, and you have a fraction of a second to decide how you’re going to meet the ground.

And sometimes tori accidentally discovers exactly where that foot is supposed to go and your entire universe suddenly becomes centered around the immediate and undeniable reality of your squished eggs. Somehow, shortly afterward, you discover yourself lying on the mat wondering how your life arrived at this particular moment.

All joking aside, there is an important lesson here.

Sutemi waza are not easy. I consider them advanced techniques because they often arise when your position is already being compromised. Rather than continuing to fight against what is happening, you sacrifice your own position and use that moment to reverse the situation and throw your opponent.

Because that opportunity can appear and disappear incredibly quickly, uke must also be capable of adapting at a moment’s notice.

There isn’t always time to think, “Which ukemi should I use?”
Your body simply has to respond.

That response comes from embodied ukemi developed through years of deliberate training. Rolling, breakfalls, body awareness, relaxation, timing, and adaptability gradually stop being separate things you consciously choose and begin becoming natural responses to whatever situation your body suddenly finds itself in.

This is why learning to be a good uke is an art unto itself and such an important part of Bujinkan training. Uke isn’t simply the person who gets thrown. A skilled uke gives their partner an honest problem to solve while possessing enough awareness and adaptability to safely receive whatever develops from that exchange.

Our ability to grow is deeply connected to the ability of our training partners and, ultimately, to the culture we create together in the dojo. We improve because the people around us are improving too.

So when you occasionally pancake after unexpectedly discovering yourself five feet in the air, or receive an unfortunate kick to the gibblies, don’t become discouraged. Learn from it, adapt, and continue developing your ukemi.

Fly higher and land softer!

See you on the mat!

~Training Highlight of the Week

This week's highlight came from our kenjutsu training.

The technique we studied was particularly challenging because it demanded that tori move into the attack at the very moment the deflection occurred. Rather than retreating from the cut, the body must drive forward off the back foot toward the sword. Doing so increases the power of the deflection while simultaneously closing the distance, allowing the counterattack to happen immediately.

One of our students found this especially difficult. Every time the sword came toward him, hesitation crept in and prevented him from entering. We spoke about how hesitation is often born from overthinking. Overthinking comes from unfamiliarity or insecurity, and insecurity often finds its roots in fear or anxiety.

I noticed his attention was fixed on the sword.

I told him, "Stop looking at the sword."

He replied, "I'm not. I'm looking him in the eyes."

My response was, "Then you might as well be looking at the sword, because your mind is still attached to it."

He paused for a moment and asked, "Then what should I be looking at?"

It's a fair question the sword is the obvious danger and it's moving quickly so it must be dealt with before the technique can succeed. Many years ago, my teachers taught me not to become attached to the source of power, but instead to perceive the whole person. Miyamoto Musashi describes this idea as Enzan-no-Metsuke, "gazing at the distant mountain." It is the ability to perceive what cannot be seen by focusing on any one thing alone. Rather than watching the sword itself, observe the opponent as a whole. The cut is only the final expression of a movement that began with posture, balance, intent, and body mechanics. By seeing the entire person instead of the weapon, the correct timing naturally begins to reveal itself.
There was a long moment of silence as he processed the idea. Then everything clicked, he was able to perform the technique well, and he immediately began helping his training partners who had been struggling with the same problem. The entire room improved because one person's understanding became everyone else's opportunity to grow.

Let's continue to train with hungry minds, open hearts, and a willingness to see beyond what first captures our attention. See you all next week!

~Notes & Reminders

Bring your bokken and kodachi!

~This Week’s Focus

Hon Gyaku and Take Ori

~ Student Quote of the Week

"I am NOT looking at the sword, I am looking at his EYES..." A few moments later, after some explanation... "...oh, that's what you meant. Then yes, I was focused on the sword, and I understand now why I shouldn't focus on the weapon and should instead focus on the opponent." – Jim

~Training Highlight of the Week
This week's highlight came during our study of Hichō no Kata.

While demonstrating the kata, we discussed how proper timing, distance, and angling naturally draw the uke into a vulnerable position. Just before the block is the critical moment: receive the attack, disrupt their balance, then immediately counter with the kick and finish with the ura shuto.

Not long afterward, one of our students mentioned that he wasn't quite feeling what it meant to "draw the uke in." So I asked him to punch me, but with one condition: the punch had to be committed. If there was no genuine intention behind the attack, then there would be nothing real for the defender to respond to.

As soon as he attacked with commitment, the lesson made sense. After experiencing it himself, he was able to recreate that same feeling with the other students, and many of them began to understand why committed attacks are such an important part of training.

One thing we all realized is that non-committed attacks unintentionally disrupt the learning process. Most of the time this isn't done maliciously; in fact, it's usually done out of kindness, uncertainty, or simply because we don't yet trust ourselves or our training partner enough. We've all done it, and we'll all continue working through it. That's part of the journey.

A committed attack is not about trying to hurt your training partner or "win" during practice. It is about giving your partner an honest attack so they can honestly learn. Half-hearted attacks create false timing, unrealistic distancing, and a misplaced sense of confidence. Honest attacks, delivered with control and mutual trust, allow both people to grow together.

Train with deep focus and seriousness, but never lose the heart of a child who loves to play, explore, and discover. When those two qualities meet, training becomes both fruitful and contagious.

To learn, to explore, and to grow is the journey. Let's continue walking that path together!

Request-Think a moment before you respond.

~Training Highlight of the Week

This week’s highlight centered around one of the oldest struggles in martial arts: muscle versus technique.

Last week we worked on Oni Kudaki, a technique that attacks the shoulder through an elbow lock, captures the spine, and displaces the hips. The combination of structural control and pain compels the uke to the ground. Through years of training, observation, and experience, I’ve noticed this same lesson appears throughout many Musha Dori-type techniques.

Our natural tendency is to rely on strength. We instinctively attack the shoulder directly, trying to overpower it. The problem is that this often drives the shoulder into one of its strongest positions, turning the technique into a contest of strength rather than an application of principle. When two strong, determined people rely on muscle, the result is simply a battle of who is stronger or tougher. That isn’t what these techniques are designed to teach. Instead, we must understand where the shoulder is structurally weak.

When the arm is drawn close to the body with the elbow bent, the surrounding muscles work together to reinforce the shoulder. However, when the shoulder is extended out to the side, even if the elbow remains bent, it becomes isolated from those powerful muscle groups. This is the position we seek.

The purpose of controlling the elbow is not to attack the elbow itself, but to manipulate the shoulder. The purpose of manipulating the shoulder is not just to create pain, but it is the gateway to capturing the spine. Once the spine is controlled, the hips must be displaced, and the throw naturally follows. This is the difference between strength and technique.

It was great watching everyone explore these ideas and begin looking beyond the outward movements to understand the underlying principles. That kind of curiosity is what leads to genuine growth.

Let’s continue showing up, sweating, asking questions, and growing together.