Chasing Two Rabbits

There is a familiar Japanese proverb many of you may have heard; “a man who chases two rabbits ends up with none.”
I find it sometimes frustrating to discuss with other martial artists the idea of training in two styles. For a long time, I considered myself a purist, but looking back, such may not have been the case. I truly believe it is possible to undertake study in different styles while remaining loyal to your teacher(s). I feel tremendous loyalty to both Onaga sensei in the Shinjinbukan and Senaha sensei in the Ryusyokai. For three-and-a-half years I had studied full-time at both dojo in Okinawa, beginning my training shortly before 8:00 pm at the Ryusyokai hombu dojo and, once class was over, traveling over to the Shinjinbukan hombu to practice until midnight or later.
In discussing this quandry with my sensei from Michigan, Paul Babladelis, he shared that, “perhaps you are using two hounds to chase the same rabbit.” I really like this explanation for what I had been pursuing since 2004, the year I attended my first Shinjinbukan gasshuku.
When one claims that they have been training “a long time,” it is always relative. For myself, I have been training long enough, and exposed to enough seminars and guest classes, to know that I would need three lifetimes to become proficient in everything I’ve seen. When you do this for a while, it teaches you a few things;
  1. You learn how to learn, meaning you learn how to adapt to a given teacher’s preference for specific approaches to stances or movements in a particular form. You learn what their emphasis is for fighting.
  2. You learn what works for you. There are certain approaches that each of us grasps better than others, because of our body style or because of the approach the teacher takes. Perhaps something about an instructor’s demeanor or viewpoint resonates with us and we take more interest in what they teach.
  3. You make a decision about what is important for you to pursue and what you will disregard. This is sort of a karate version of triage. A friend of mine who is both Ryusyokai and Shinjinbukai once told me that, if we were to treat our body of karate knowledge as a pile of bricks, people might say he did not have many bricks. But at least he knew how to build something with them.
My past experiences as a member of the North American Meibu-kai (formed in July, 1990) fostered this understanding. Paul sensei had received instruction from the association’s founder, Yagi Meitoku Dai Sensei, but had also studied under his two sons; Yagi Meitatsu sensei and Yagi Meitetsu sensei. Each one of them had a different emphasis and a different way they wanted certain movements performed. This was a challenging but exciting departure from his previous training first in the Shoreikan and later in the Kodokan. Babladelis sensei joined the Meibukan in 1985, shortly after he had opened his dojo in Wayland, MI where I began studying. In addition, we had the benefit of frequent visits from Ernest Estrada sensei, an distinguished and much-sought-after kobudo and Shorin Ryu instructor in the Shorinkan Shorin Ryu system, and a well-published Okinawan martial arts historian and documentarian.
In 1996, Senaha Shigetoshi sensei was named by Yagi Meitoku Dai Sensei as the president of the International Meibukan. That year, he traveled to Vancouver, British Columbia and London, Ontario with his friend Onaga Yoshimitsu sensei of the Shinjinbukan. Together, they had the notion that they could reintroduce something that had been lost to Okinawan karate in recent times; an introduction to Ti. This was an important turning point in the Meibukan. Prior to this time, Yagi Meitatsu sensei and Yagi Meitetsu sensei, the two sons of the founder of the Meibukan had vied for international attention (and continue to do so to this day through separate incarnations of the Meibukan). Meanwhile Senaha sensei, who, during his younger years as an assistant instructor had taught the Yagi brothers, was continuing his approach of quietly teaching a hardcore group of students at his branch dojo in Tomigusuku, Okinawa. The visit to Canada by the new president and his enigmatic counterpart garnered a great deal of interest. Senaha sensei’s approach to Meibukan was different from the brothers’ but very close to his teacher’s and the Ti shared by Onaga sensei was directly relevant to what we were studying as Goju-Ryu practitioners.
Still others were resistant to the notion of a departure from what had been going on before. It was definitely not in the best interest of everyone for a new president to be operating things. There were teachers who had something to lose if the previous power structure were to wain. Rumors began that Senaha sensei was colluding with Onaga sensei to create a hybrid system of Goju Ryu and Shorin Ryu. Nothing could have been further from the truth and even a visit to the Ryusyokai hombu dojo today will bear out a solid Okinawan Goju-Ryu training experience.
By 1999, Senaha sensei had stepped down from the presidency and announced the creation of a new association called the Ryusyokai. This saved embarrassment for everyone and unshackled him from having to contend with the political turmoil implicit in the Meibukan. Also, out of loyalty to his teacher, Senaha sensei had declined the award of a 10th Dan by Yagi Meitoku Dai Sensei. This, he explained, was something he could not do because his teacher was still living. A “hamon” (severing of ties) was declared, maybe as a result of the rank issue or maybe as a result of the rumors, or both. Regardless, the Ryusyokai had been founded. A number of instructors in the Meibukan, also tired of the politics, chose to break away and follow Senaha sensei, who they recognized as the most senior of Dai sensei’s students. The announcement can be found here.
Recounting this series of events, one can see that I have altered my training every time my teacher did. This occurred out of necessity and it largely benefited me. Could we say that each of Babladelis sensei’s instructors created their own style? They certainly had different interpretations of how the kata worked. These interpretations were shaped by their experiences and ideas.
It has become apparent that each of us develops our own approach to the fighting arts if we study for long enough. In my opinion, style (Ryu) is irrelevant beyond identifying, in general terms, the kata you perform and the teacher-to-student lineage you fall under. To a degree, style will help define specific emphases as passed on by our teachers. Associations (Kan or Kai) are structures that define relationships. They may narrow and frame the emphasis on specific techniques within a style. They may define the way one bows. In the Meibukan, there are five kata that are specific to that organization; these serve as another example of a trademark but also illustrate the fighting ideology of the creator of the kata, Yagi Meitoku Dai Sensei. It is really the teacher, and later the practitioner, who defines how his or her karate functions. If this were not the case, Miyagi Chojun sensei would have never established Goju Ryu in the first place, or it would have been identical to Juhatsu Kyoda sensei’s To’on Ryu. Furthermore, Miyagi sensei would have taught each of his students exactly as he was taught and would have directed them to do the same for their students, creating a static system. Such is not the case.
What is taught at the Onaga Karate Dojo is much different than what is now taught at the Kyudokan Hombu Dojo where Onaga sensei once trained. If you go to various Ryusyokai dojo around the world, you will see differences in emphasis among the schools. My dojo is no exception. This is a direct result of my exposure to, and training at, the Shinjinbukan (as well as my study with Babladelis sensei and Estrada sensei). Since beginning my brief study with the Shinjinbukan, my understanding of the practical aspects of each movement of a kata in Goju Ryu has changed. Utility and bio-mechanics play a larger role in my training now that I understand more about them. In contrast, before, I would do something a certain way out of loyalty to my teacher or what I perceived was a trademark of the style. This is not to say that everything I learned before was wrong. But admittedly, some of it does not appeal to me now, given that I take a different approach to training because of my physical build. For other movements in a kata, for instance, I might execute it a variety of ways to denote or practice different fighting applications.
I have a great deal of loyalty to the many people who have taught me over the years. I consider myself very fortunate because each one of them helped to prepare me for the next challenge. The fact that I now do some things differently has been considered by some of them to be an opportunity, and if any of them consider it a betrayal, none have told me. To those who would say that I need to stick to only one association, I would respond with the meaning of the Shinjinbukan crest as explained by Onaga sensei; “washite do sezu” – harmony in diversity.