2005 New Year’s Message of Ichikawa Yoshinori Soke Daito Ryu

Echizen Dojo. December 27^th, 2004

Transcript: Miss. T. Sato, Translation: Miss A. Yamamoto

Thank you for your most kind welcoming.

I wish I could give you great words of wisdom today, but I cannot.

What a foolish thing is to ask a lazy old man to deliver a speech when he would rather be sleeping peacefully after such a nice meal. What could I say today that has not been said already?

Certainly, I cannot say it better. What else could I teach you? I am a very old man and my mind is not what it used to be. In fact, I have never been either so smart nor so wise that anyone should lament the diminishing of my faculties. The part of my knowledge I cherish the most is knowing how to trim my garden. The part of my memory that warms my heart is that of the cherry blossoms that I so loved when I was a child. The part of my wisdom that I value the most is that which helps me to remain deeply grateful for all good things I have received throughout my life, from the least to the most.

I know that most of you expect for me to speak of my training, of special skills, of some intense experience that revealed to me the secrets of Budo. But the best secret that I could give you tonight, is that Budo is not such an extraordinary thing that must be considered something separate from our lives, like some special addition that requires flag raising and fanfare every time we reach some alleged exalted stage. I wish I could have that every time I am successful at pruning my shrubs. I take a very deep and sincere pride in being good at tending my garden. My beloved wife knew this and she even clapped her hands when I did a good job. It made me feel very good But that is gardening, not Budo.

However, I know I am expected to say something special tonight, So allow me to talk a little about something I feel is of some importance.

When I was young, Budo was a loud thing within me. I took pride in my work, especially when I succeeded, and even though I did not permit my lips to do it, I must confess I allowed my mind to shout whenever I felt I was doing well. I felt proud of myself. I do not think that was necessarily a bad thing. There are times in our lives in which a certain measure of good pride can carry us further on the path than a disciplinary shove. I do not mean foolish arrogance, but good pride, which is the deep felt satisfaction of having done well what must be done. It may not be proper to shout about it, but it is certainly good to feel it. After all, humility is not real if it is just an affectation. True humility has nothing to do with manners. True humility is the result of the accurate estimate of one self. It is fitting for me to admit before you that, as a young man, I was notoriously bad at making estimates, so I might have shouted a little too often.

Then, as the years passed, my silent shouting became less about physical prowess, or technical proficiency and more about being there without missing a day, about fulfilling my duties, about perseverance, about wearing down many pairs of shoes on the way to the dojo. I felt mature and wiser, but I still shouted.

As a teacher I taught as I was taught, and passing on knowledge gave me a taste for another kind of pride. I was trying to move others to a level higher than my own, as high as I could take them. I felt I was doing well for what is requested of me, but I still shouted. And I did so for a very long time.

Today, my thoughts wander, my eyes see dimly, my speech crackles, my grip is infirm, but I feel closer than ever to Budo. And that is the secret I wish I could pass on to you.

When I took pride in doing my work well it was because I was aware that the possibility existed that I wouldn’t do it well. When I took pride in my technical proficiency, I feared failing in my performance; when I took pride in doing my duty, it was because I often wondered if I could do my duty; when I took pride in teaching well it is because I was unsure that I could do so. When I succeeded, I felt pride and I shouted within myself. But in all that time it was always an achievement, laced with uncertainty. Budo was always separated from me. I did Budo with uncertainty. I wondered if I was worthy of the knowledge I was receiving, I wondered if I could measure up, I wondered if at one time it would be too hard for me to carry on. I wondered if I could fail.

Perhaps you have all felt that way. If so, do not feel bad. If it was good that we all felt a measure of self pride, it is also good that we felt a measure of self doubt. That is the "in" and "yo" of Budo, the resulting balance give us assessment of our nature and the ensuing struggle for that balance forges our identities.

Would the struggle end? It does not. At least not for me. But there comes a time in which we no longer become affected by the struggle, a time in which we no longer dwell in doubt, because Budo is not distant from us. We no longer perceive Budo as a separate activity, subjected to ups and downs. The waves may keep coming, but we know they are part of the path and no longer fear them. We learn to adjust to the motion. We realize that we would never fall so many times that we couldn’t get up again; we gain the assurance that we would never feel too weary to pursue the journey, because it would not feel like a journey. It would be just life.

Have any of you, under normal circumstances, thought of breathing as an achievement? Or feared you couldn’t close your eyes if you felt like resting? Or wonder if you would find it too hard to drink water when you were thirsty? I dare say that most of you would rarely think about the possibility of failing at any of those things, simply because it is life. We appreciate it, we enjoy it, we endure it. We are it, and it is us. Even if at one point we wonder if we would live to see another day, it is that thought that is alien.

Life remains the natural desired constant because it is indivisible from the essence of our being.

The secret I share with you today is that, for a budoka, so is Budo.

All is required of us is but a decision.

It is not hard, nor is it easy. It just is. Once that is understood, that truth embraces us, comforts us, encourages us, enlivens us and defines us.

It is quite enjoyable that my creaky bones now know no uncertainties. It is a very peaceful feeling. It is also an inexhaustible and always accessible source of strength. That is why I can feel a little vanity about my garden, because that is an addition to my life. It is something extraordinary, because it can be in my life, or not.

Budo is much more personal. Budo is as intimate as life, because it is life; it is the natural desired constant for a budoka. And, even though I failed to recognize it many times, it has given me the best moments of my life. Even at times of tears it has sustained my smile, and brought me through from darkness to light, from weakness to strength again and again, even though for most of those passages I might have been shamefully unaware that I was being helped.

I apologize to you all, because it took me such a long time to come to this realization. That secret is available to us since the first time we face the dojo’s main wall, but it is so easy to miss.

So very long a time has passed since I first bowed before passing the dojo’s threshold. The world has changed a lot since then. But there are things that do not change. I still feel a little bit of good pride for doing well and for having done well. I now call it satisfaction, but it is the same feeling. And I must confess to you that I still shout within me when I think about it. I hope you can forgive this foolish old man for being so childish.

I also know that it is expected of me to exhort you. I do so, but more than exhort you I wish to commend you. The battles you face today are not any easier or any less treacherous than those of ancient times. You all carry wounds from them; those blows which wound the spirit are not any less painful than those which hurt the body. But you have done well and I am happy for you all.

Some of you have brought to me your concern about changing times and the undesirable attitudes that affect Budo today. It is true that times have changed. There are many things with which we must contend that were not even imagined a few years back. It is unavoidable. Time seems to move so quickly now. That is true. But it is also true that there have always been vain people, greedy people, people who seek their own renown above all else, cynical people, unscrupulous people, treacherous people. And there have always been plenty of those in all areas of life, including Budo, since the time of our ancestors. One noticeable difference is that, thanks to modern technology, they are just now able to arrogantly parade themselves all over the world with greater ease. They can’t really mock Budo, since they have very little knowledge of what true Budo is, but it is undeniable that they do it a great disservice by their misrepresentation. They are like a sad and somewhat laughable parody of themselves.

Do not be overly concerned with the damage that people like these may cause, because for every hundred news of shameful things happening today, I am happy to say that I keep hearing about very good people in Budo who do good things, who are faithful, dedicated, selfless and courageous. I do not speak of Japanese people only, but also of people from other lands, from different cultures. And a single one of those is a greater testimony to the best of the human condition than hundreds of shameful parodies.

For as long as there is a single compassionate, strong and beautiful spirit in it, true Budo shall survive.

One of you, or all of you, can be that spirit.

You are all very aware of the battles you face and we have faith in your abilities to do what is required, when it is required. You are all guardians and pillars, you are the protectors and supporters of Budo. You do not just defend the castle, you are the castle. Do not ever forget that. If you allow yourself to weaken, you would be weakening the castle. That is a duty that none of you can delegate. Even the smaller stone has its place and function in the structure. No one can take your place. Learn to be strong for the castle’s sake, and your decision, in turn, will make strength available to you.

And if at any moment you feel you are doing well, and you feel a measure of good pride, do not hesitate to give a little inner shout. You’d be fully entitled.

And if any of you feel like clapping your hands when you look at my garden, I’d not be opposed to that either.

I thank all the members of our organization, present and absent, for your great efforts, for your unwavering loyalty, and for your sincere generosity. I have no doubt that you will continue the path led by our ancestors and making this old heart of ours rejoice with good news about Budo, in Japan and in other lands.

I also thank all the teachers of all the affiliated ryu, and other members of our fellowship, represented here today, for your support of so many years. It pleases me no end to see so many familiar faces of the older generations and so many of the newer ones. I am grateful that you all could attend.

May you all have a very lucky and successful year.

Thank you for enduring my presence here.

As I said before, it is a very foolish thing to ask a lazy old man to deliver a speech after such a nice meal. As you can see, I had nothing worthwhile to say, so I let you go back to the refreshments and I shall go to sleep for a little while.

Happy New Year.

Thank you so much.

Ichikawa Yoshinori

Soke

Daito Ryu