Hit and reflect; be hit and give thanks

Sport and budo, in the ways individuals interact, can look outwardly similar. However, in contemporary society, physical activity based on sporting concepts has become predominant. In this context, budo is easily confused with sport, so practitioners need a clear distinction between the two. For this reason, I have emphasized one of the main differences: the aim of sport is to win, whereas the aim of budo is to pursue a “perfect strike (migotona ippon).”

First of all, sport and budo have completely different origins, each with its own historical development. Both contain an element of competition aimed at overcoming an opponent, which can be traced back to their formative moments. Sport is said to have its roots in the days of hunting and gathering, when people competed to refine hunting techniques. Budo, by contrast, stems from bujutsu or bugei, mainly kenjutsu, the art of the sword, developed alongside the katana and the samurai’s combat methods. Here, too, the competitive element was inevitably present.

Over time, however, the concept of “sport” passed through different eras and civilizations and was transformed. The opponent remained an entity to be overcome, and a worldview took shape in which personal identity is defined by comparative criteria.

In the case of bujutsu, the meaning of the opponent took on another dimension as times changed, transformed through its fusion with the spirit of bushido. Bushido is the value system and morality a samurai must follow. This implies that each person confronts his or her inner self, cultivating spirit and character. Thus, in the practice of bujutsu / bugei, these arts came to be seen as a means of spiritual training and moral formation. In this process, the concept of budo was born: no longer just combat technique, but a path of inner maturation.

The Way of the Sword is not the only one. In the tea ceremony (sado) and in flower arrangement (kado), too, one seeks perfection through codified ritual forms. The common element in all these Ways is the aspiration to perfect one’s actions through respect for kata (form, pattern).

Returning to kenjutsu, regular practice with a live blade would have been too dangerous. Even with a bokken (wooden sword), free exchanges often led to serious accidents. Increasing importance was therefore given to the practice of kata, the codified performance of the ideal gesture, refined over time with the accumulation of wisdom. The ultimate aim of training in the dojo became to follow this ideal form impeccably.

Following kata does not mean merely performing a correct sequence of movements; it also entails levels of precision that include aspects not visible from the outside: how the body is used, timing, breathing. In this process, in partner training the focus gradually shifts from the opponent to one’s inner world.

Later, with the introduction of the shinai (bamboo sword) and protective gear, it became possible to practice free offensive and defensive exchanges. Thus the prototype of modern kendo was born. However, the orientation toward realizing the ideal strike inspired by kata never disappeared. This leads to the concept discussed in my previous article: the pursuit of migotona ippon.

In other words, kendo developed a worldview in which one strives to maintain inner calm and correct posture even during free exchange, expressing techniques infused with ideal movements and pure reactions. The opponent in front of you is likewise engaged in the same pursuit of migotona ippon.

In kendo there is a saying:

“Strike and reflect; be struck and give thanks.”

If one is satisfied that a strike happened to land by chance during training, one will never grasp the essence of migotona ippon. Only when you realize that such a strike is something to be sought over a lifetime can you truly be said to be at the beginning of the path. “Strike and reflect” means precisely this: even if your strike landed, you must reflect on whether it was the result of chance, or whether something was still lacking compared to migotona ippon. Conversely, those who regard being struck as mere bad luck will never understand migotona ippon. Being struck means there was a flaw in your own defense. “Be struck and give thanks” is the teaching that invites you to thank the other for revealing that flaw.

In this way, in kendo, the opponent becomes a precious figure who collaborates in verifying the degree of perfection of one’s ippon. At the end of every kendo session, there is a recurring scene worth noting.

After the last part of training, called jigeiko, students sit in seiza before the teacher to calm their breathing. At the command, they enter silent meditation (mokuso). Then they bow to the teacher and to one another. When all is finished, the students stand up and go, one by one, to find those who were their partners during jigeiko. They sit facing them and say:

“Thank you for being my partner today during jigeiko. If there is another opportunity, let us rely on each other again.”

To which the other replies:

“Thank you. I hope so too.”

This exchange is repeated with everyone whose shinai one has crossed. Even though the training is officially over, this gesture has become a shared custom. No one knows exactly since when it has existed, but it is probably repeated in dojo around the world. It is a natural expression of gratitude toward the other. I like this scene very much.