So, apparently all of my momentum from the last posts about the Shaho-Kun and Raiki-Shagi, inspired by the book “Michi no Yumi” by Iwao Matsui Sensei, have come to a giant concrete wall that it just can’t bust through. Looks like it’s going to take some chiseling, at a later point in time. Thank you Life, for all of the obstacles you put between me and this blog. That’s half sarcastic, because there’s so much to talk about! And half true, because there’s a lot of other important things going on in life. I hope to continue the discussions again soon, but for those that can’t, go ahead and hunt that book down and get the info first hand.
For something else, I realized something very important to practicing kyudo the other day, and that is getting out of the fricken dojo.
This doesn’t mean just forgetting about your kyudo practice and looking at other things in life. Well, that’s another really important part of kyudo practice. But for all of those crazies out there who really do just want to think about kyudo all of the time, I highly recommend just “getting out of the dojo.”
I thought this the other day at a seminar when I literally walked out of the dojo and took a walk.
There I was at a seminar with excellent partners, fabulous teachers, and a beautiful dojo. For all purposes of the seminar, that’s exactly what we’re looking for, and as far as I was concerned, more than I could hope for. But it just started to feel like the air was being recirculated over and over again. It felt like it was some mini little hell and a mini little heaven all at the same time. I was also a little hungover. Sometimes you’ve got to just air the place out, be it the dojo, or perhaps more importantly, your mind.
I walked outside, behind the dojo, and followed a path through a park that climbed up a mountain. All around were beautiful green trees heavy just before the fall in this early October. Somehow with that 10 minute break, the kyudo seminar that I was thoroughly enjoying just got a lot more interesting by talking a walk away, and I was able to remember what I really love about the things I love: Inspiration.
Isn’t that why we practice kyudo in the first place?
Sure we may think it looks cool, and feels good. There’s also a lot of interesting philosophies to think about and experience in the practice. But what’s at the root of it all? And how does shooting a bow and arrow really affect our lives? Inspiration! We practice and admire kyudo because it gives us some kind of inspiration.
But what’s “inspiration”?
To me I guess it’s just something that makes me feel excited or interested, and makes me forget about everything else, including forgetting thinking about “why does this make me feel inspired?”
We were all people before we meet kyudo, so there’s probably a few other things out there that give us inspiration.
Recently I feel like I’ve forgotten a lot of those other things.
But just walking out of the dojo helps me remember, and combining those things with kyudo might create some giant new monster that lives in the mountains.
In case it wasn’t obvious, nature, fantasy, and art are are a few other things that give me inspiration.
What gives you inspiration, and how do those things work with your kyudo practice?
I’d love to hear about it.
Onward and upward.