The magic only happens when Sensei is in the room.

A peculiar aspect of traditional martial arts training that perhaps needs unpacking.

It’s not a big deal but I keep coming across this idea in various guises and maybe provides hints at a larger phenomenon that would be worth examining, particularly as it relates to Dojo dynamics.

An example:

The charismatic Ueshiba O-Sensei.

Ueshiba Morihei (1883 – 1969) does feature frequently in my writings, even though my days training in Aikido are long behind me. His creation of Aikido as a martial art has perplexed me for a very long time. Several high-level practitioners and very serious martial artists have attempted scholarly analysis of both the man and his art, but still Ueshiba is a cypher. Part shaman, part strongman he clearly was able to achieve things that normal mortals were unable to do. Serious Aikido practitioners today seem to be continually chasing his ever-retreating shadow, and as those who actually knew him and trained with him gradually fall off the perch, what are they left with?

Enjoy this example of Ueshiba; the earliest known movie of him demonstrating when he was at his physical peak. It looks fake, but the truth is that this is about as real as it gets. Many Aikido demonstrations do a passable outward impression of this, but that’s all it is, an impression.

Stanley Pranin.

The late Stanley Pranin an obsessive American-born Aikido scholar and practitioner ploughed considerable effort into tracking down the last of those Old Boys who trained under Ueshiba in the years before World War 2. The fruits of some of these many interviews are collated into an excellent book, ‘Aikido Masters – Prewar Students of Morihei Ueshiba’.

It was through this book that I first came across the concept of ‘the magic only happening when Sensei is in the room’. If you read between the lines, particularly the anecdotes of the Uchi-Deshi, the live-in students in the Ueshiba household and Dojo, there is a thread that describes the atmosphere generated by Ueshiba Sensei himself. His very presence, as well as his teaching style, energised the Dojo. For the students he was like a throbbing generator that switched on all their lights; in his absence it wasn’t the same.

If you want, you could put this down to hero worship or extreme reverence towards this otherworldly martial artist, one who communes with the Kami.

Their anecdotes from both inside and outside of the Dojo suggest that to the Uchi-Deshi he was like some kind of wizard. Whether you want to believe in that kind of stuff or not, the important point is that they did, and some of them seemed to be able to hold on to the light even after Ueshiba’s death.

To my mind, the best example was probably Shioda Gozo, who clearly inherited something of the Ueshiba demon. Within these film clips, the flying attackers are impressive enough, but within all that, note the subtle manipulations, the energy pulses, precise grips and pins:

The unfortunate thing is that, despite the Shioda example, very few were able to access the rarefied abilities of Ueshiba; the ‘magic’ for them came through a kind of osmosis. Some were able to ‘steal’ the techniques of their Sensei (I use that word in a very specialised way, ‘waza o nusumu’, see my blog post. But the ‘learn by imitation’ method is not without its flaws; the biggest one being that students mimic the external appearance/feeling of the form without the deeper understanding of what is going on.

The Ueshiba example is a useful extreme, showing how far charisma coupled with physical ability can go.

The Sensei should act as an inspirational beacon, whether they are in the room or not. Ideally, they provide a model to emulate, as well as being a useful well-source of knowledge.

But I have come across examples where the students claim that they are only able to tap into this source in the actual presence of their Sensei; using the excuse that the immediate proximity of their teacher is the only thing that will supply the sufficient level of inspiration to train properly and with meaning. Admittedly, this is rare, but the unanswered question might be; is this perhaps you ducking the responsibility for your own training and development?

This is not just in the martial arts, it appears in other places as well.

I am reminded of the words of wisdom from my physio (he is an endless source pithy phrases, aphorisms or just smart observations). He says he often gets patients who come to him for treatment, which probably involves some form of manipulation but also results in him supplying them with some very specific exercises. Two weeks later they come back and tell him they are not improving, “Are you doing the exercises?” he asks, “Well… not really, I did a few, blah, blah”. Obviously, if you don’t fulfil your part of the bargain the magic is not going to work.

Same with the music teacher; during the lesson they supply the practice pieces with specific directions that wherever possible they should be worked on daily. The student comes back to the tutor and it is obvious that they haven’t touched the instrument since the last lesson. The teacher has to get tough with the student and tell them bluntly, ‘Music lessons are not practice time – they are lessons!’ Again, the magic doesn’t happen, or if it does it is at a glacial pace, and so the student loses interest and just becomes another one of those lapsed musicians.

Basically, it’s a two-way contract. Pity the poor Sensei whose energy is sapped by the student who won’t put the work in. In an ideal world, training should be energised by the dual powerpack of an enthusiastic and giving Sensei coupled with a dedicated and hard-working student; with that combination an amazing amount can be achieved.

For the martial arts, I am reminded of a useful quote from Thomas Edison, when he described genius as ‘one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration’. I am convinced that this idea of the magic only happening when Sensei is in the room is part laziness; part latching on to a convenient excuse coupled with an added aversion to sweating.

Of course, it depends on your situation. It is not always easy to work directly with your Sensei; this became all too obvious during the pandemic. But, inevitably everyone has a whole catalogue of stuff that they know they need to improve on, things they know their Sensei has picked them up on. Take the small steps towards gradual improvement through disciplined practice; ESPECIALLY when your Sensei is not actually in the room to sprinkle that magic fairy dust on you.

Luke and Yoda image source:

https://screenrant.com/