When the Rules Aren’t Enough

The morning seminar session was intense.

At certain points I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to make it through the sets, and at some point my body was just moving on auto-pilot with the only goal of surviving until the lunch break.

We got an hour for lunch, and most of the group went around the corner for food and some fresh air while some of us stayed in the dojo.

With only an hour I figured by the time I changed out of my dogi, navigated the crowds, grabbed something to eat, and got changed back, it was probably better to just stay on the dojo floor and use the time to get some energy back.

For a while I as the only student on the dojo floor, and there was a certain stillness and silence to this which was nice.

Gradually as the participants filed back into the dojo and moved to the floor to limber up and prepare for the afternoon session conversation picked up.

My own crew was still out to lunch, and it was all I could do to overhear the conversation next to me.

A student apologizing to one of the senior students in their group for being late to the morning session. 

A response back about how it was disrespectful to the teacher and how next time better planning should be considered.

I found myself holding an opinion on this.

Rules and hierarchy were correct.

If a student is late to the training, that is on them.

Even if it is a good reason, a force outside of their control, late is still late.

The dojo is not a democracy, and interpretations of the rules might range from a delayed bow-in to training, or perhaps sitting in the corner and only being allowed to watch class.

But what about those times when the rules shouldn’t apply?

When can, or should a teacher break the rules?

The student explaining why they were late, if they were my student I would have given them the next rank right there on the spot.

They were on the way to the seminar, making good time on the parkway, when they decided to pull off and grab some gas and something to eat.

Inside the station and waiting on line to pay, something shifted.

Two men entered the station and they got a feeling.

One of those feelings that are deep in your tanden, but make no sense in your logical mind.

A flash that often instantly gets dismissed.

The student had that feeling, and most importantly listened.

The got off the line, put the sandwich back, skipped the gas and left.

Learning the techniques of the art is easy, even if not all the techniques are easy.

Just grind and put in the time- the formula is easy.

That’s not to say the martial culture, history, or philosophy is important- it is. But the core of the martial arts is movement, and if you put the time in, you grow and get better.

Movement can be taught by a teacher, corrected, adjusted.

But what about the warrior’s heart?

Mushashin.

There are things in the art that can’t be taught, or even really shown in a class setting.

Attributes and understanding that the teacher can only cultivate, try and bring about the conditions so the student gets a glimpse of them and begins to cultivate them in themselves.

This was one of these aspects of warrior’s heart.