Sitting in Chicago O’Hare enjoying a well-deserved steak and wine on my last day before returning to that alternate reality we call “the outside world,” I feel humble and am filled with an amazing joy. So many people gave unselfishly to create a fantastic Taikai.

Watching people move about the terminal made me yearn for the kata we experienced together. I was surrounded by chaos and became very, very aware of everyone’s random movements.

Our hope was that one participant of the Taikai would have the curtains parted for him slightly. With a topic so weighty, and take-aways so difficult to convey, we simply did not know what outcome to expect. Instead most eyes were opened wide, and even some of most senior admitted they had relaxed too much over the years. Looking in that mirror and discovering your failings is to be applauded, not reviled. Only through that process can the journey continue.

The planning for this Taikai began many months ago for the three of us. As an experiment, we wrote individual articles about reshiki, and did so in a vacuum; we did not see each other’s until they were done. I think you’ll agree that the message in them is remarkably consistent. Interesting how that happened.

A concept repeatedly conveyed this weekend was honesty in your kata. As the days pass, are you still honest? Remember the teaching that your fighting stance is your everyday stance. Now clear to you should be that we are not only talking about the position of your feet. Instead we are talking about every detail of your being. Your fighting reishiki should be your everyday reishiki. Think very deeply on this.

The weekend began with Mr. Lange’s sword knowledge class on Friday night. Over two hours of lecture, demonstration and Q&A, unpunctuated by breaks of hesitation and unassisted by notes. That, ladies and gentlemen, is how a professional does it. I’ve met some Ivy League professors who should takes teaching notes from Mr. Lange. That class alone was more than worth the price of admission.

Saturday morning started one half hour early to allow for a dedication after which Mr. Schmitt led a class in reishiki and some basics. Unlike most Taikai, where the participants in this class are people new to the art, this time we all lined up and received instruction. It was incredibly refreshing, and got us pumped up for the rest of the day.

Mr. Maren generously presented both ryû with a kamidana, and it is a

real work of art. Just lovely and handmade in Japan. This kamidana will travel the world, from Taikai to Taikai. It will not be used in normal classes. Our tradition is for every member dôjô to contribute dirt to the consecration of a new kamidana. Not this one. The only way to contribute your dirt to this one is to host a Taikai. If you never do, you simply aren’t part of that gestalt.

We opened the Taikai with the dedication of this kamidana. After Mr. Schmitt’s reishiki class we sat seiza facing shomen. Pivoting right we just sat and felt. The left side of our faces, which was toward kamidana, was much warmer than the right side. That means we did it right. Remember forever your part in that process, and if in your next encounter with this kamidana the feeling has ebbed, know that the last possessors did something wrong. We are responsible for its continued growth.

An interesting tidbit concerns the cup that holds the incense and dirt. The cup is a handmade Japanese antique. I brought the cup to Chicago having never seen the Kamidana, but somehow the cup fit perfectly. Not approximately, perfectly. It was as if the Kamidana was designed around it. I’m not sure how that happened, but it must have been meant to be.

Enough of the serious though….

Stop what you’re doing, limber up your dominant arm, swing it hard and pat yourself on the back. We worked really hard and accomplished much. Included in our list of accomplishments is, for some, a newfound detest for seiza. We spent a lot of time in seiza. Mr. Schmitt made seiza benches for a recent project, and offered to give them away to anyone who wanted one. By the time we lined up for Sunday’s photograph, he jokingly upped the price to $50 each. If anyone had been willing to be labeled a wimp by using one, he could have charged $500. We were worn out.

And about that darn Bob Schmitt. Just when I think he’s housebroken I find myself sighing in the corner holding my head. But…. What amazing deshi. His dedication to this is surpassed by few. His effort and caring should be parroted by all. It is rare that an art is complemented by someone like him. We are all better for his presence. Now if someone would just steal his darned cell phone.

Rare it is these days that during a Taikai the decision is made to promote someone. A lot of consideration goes into who is to receive their next menkyo, so normally the decision is made in advance. This time was different.

Brian Stamps has been a student of these arts for years. This weekend it became obvious that he is a deshi. Rarely are my expectations totally blown away. Mr. Stamps did so and received his Renshi menkyo completely impromptu. Ippon!

Speaking of Mr. Stamps. He suffered nerve damage in his right shoulder in an accident several months ago, and it was admittedly A Really Cool Thing to twist someone’s arm like that, knowing that the nerves are turned off. Talk about having to do the kata right. Mr. Stamps noted that it was very different from his physical therapy; on the mat he gets to hurt the therapist right back.

Mr. Stamps had standard bokken and Tenshin-ryû bokken made from some amazingly dense and lovely wood. For standard bokken I personally don’t care what I use, and real Japanese white oak is just fine for me. But the lustful part of me that I haven’t managed to completely get rid of does love the look of some of these bokken. The quality varies from piece to piece, but if you get a good one, you get a very good one. As a rule you want the grain to rule perpendicular to the edge, not parallel.

Exciting though is the Tenshin-ryû bokken. These are almost perfect. With this weekend’s fine-tuning the next batch should be amazing. These are patterned from the numbered boxed sets from long ago. At $1000 each they’d be worth it. At under $300, they are an absolute steal. You should consider this next batch, assuming the changes are made, to be standard issue kit. In other words, buy one.

And then there’s Andy Stevenson. Mr. Stevenson is one of our most senior deshi. I wish I could bottle what he did this weekend and inject it into my veins every day. Power, poise and technique coalescing into one perfect example of what a Kyôshi should be. Awe inspiring.

We were thankfully civilized by the lovely Mrs. Maren. Thank goodness for her. She continues to allow this smelly loud group of scotch swillers and cigar smokers to invade her domain. I’m not sure why.

The opening and closing ceremonies for the Taikai were unique to this one. We ceremoniously formed a circle around the kamidana and bowed to it as our opening. Our closing had the senior most people in the rear, and the junior most in the front. Both of these moments were carefully designed. Can you discern the reason?

Sore muscles and strained joints were softened with Advil and martini’s at Sunday night’s dinner. Excellent wine, inspiring conversation and familiar company had smiles on all the faces. Getting to celebrate

Samantha Ritacco’s 21st birthday was quite a fringe benefit (wasn’t she just five years old last year?).

A special note is in order. Mr. Ritacco’s son, Nicholas, has decided to become a Marine. He is fine young man and will make the service proud.

Everyone looked great in their tuxedos. I made a couple comments about my resplendent outfit which included a midnight blue velvet jacket complemented by velvet shoes. Why dress so fancily? Because it’s a party! Your outfit should fit great, feel great and inspire you toward a uniquely festive feeling. And party we did. So much laughter and camaraderie.

I mentioned above that Mr. Simms, Mr. Maren and I each wrote an article. For those of you that didn’t make it, here are two of the things you missed. The first is a 12 page bound guide to reishiki tips and tricks. The second is a book containing many of Sensei’s articles concerning reishiki, some dating from the late 1960’s and early 1970’s. The book was bound and included the three articles from us at its end. These books are not to be reproduced. But maybe you’ll get a chance to peek at one in the future. Just like that Friday night class, these books alone were worth the price of admission.

And now some awards….

• Longest trip- Peter Barus, who drove from Vermont. • Favorite quote- “I thought I could feel my legs, but I was wrong.” (we did a lot of seiza) • Most evil- Whoever was pouring me scotch on Friday night. I can’t wait to find you. • Most offended- The student who was mad about my “go study kung- fu” comment. Sorry, but I stand by it. I happen to be both opinionated and correct.

One parting note…. We retired to Mr. Maren’s house on Sunday night, where the grill was promptly fired for The Cooking Of The Hotdogs and more scotch was poured. This moment was meant to be kind of a private wind-down for a few of us. Hordes showed up though, and I couldn’t have been happier to see them. They just didn’t want it to end, and who could blame them? Neither did I.

Mr. Maren and his crew again made it looks effortless. Every detail was attended to and masterfully executed. It was a pleasure to see.

Messrs. Maren and Simms worked incredibly hard over several months to help plan and execute this Taikai. It was a great honor to do it with them. I cannot stress enough how much care and effort they put forth.

And so another one goes into the books. If you missed it, you may want to beg someone for his notes. We drilled in reishiki this weekend and gave out a mountain of information about what is expected.

Thank you all for being there.

In budô,

Savopoulos

In ordinary conversation we tend to let people keep the identities they present to the world intact, and expect the same consideration. We don’t make unreasonable demands. We go to some lengths to make others comfortable. This is merely good manners; it is not Reishiki. In the conversation of Budo it is different. We give everything, and to the degree we do this it is reciprocated. This is similar, but opposite, to the way that we assume the identical shape of whatever forces we resist; but in this case the Instructor draws performance from students far beyond what they know as possible. Reishiki is the atmosphere in which this tidal effect can occur.

At the recent Taikai of the Tenshin-ryu and Yamate-ryu, “Rei, Michi Ichi,” hosted by Three Rivers Budokai, Reishiki pervaded the space. That in itself is a rare enough accomplishment. Each of the Instructors gave everything, and this “everything” is far more than most students can begin to comprehend. They held nothing back. This was not merely engaging or infectious; it had the gravitational effect of planets in alignment, pulling an “everything” from us we could not immediately recognize as our own, even from the newest mudansha, a clear reflection of high-quality teaching. This level of performance – action to form – is not interpreted or improvised or re-enacted: it is a pure creation. And that is a mark of mastery.

We are indebted in particular to  Mr. Maren, our host, and Mr. Savopoulos, Mr. Sims, and Mr. Schmitt, for an unforgettable experience of the way it should be done.