I was talking to a friend recently about the evolution of the martial arts.
Clearly, at one point in history, traditional budo became technically irrelevant on the battlefield. The modern samurai – professional soldiers and military leaders – became much more interested in high-explosive artillery and search-and-traverse machine-gun fire than they were in swordplay.
So why did traditional budo survive?
It was because its practitioners realized the ongoing power it had to shape character, its ability to help one become a better, stronger person.
So, the traditions were preserved – with all of their emphasis on the committed performance of obsolete battlefield tactics.
After that discussion, I realized that something comparable had happened with me.
When I first got involved in martial arts – jujutsu, taekwondo, karate and finally Aikido – I wanted to learn to fight. Of course I was also intrigued by the culture and the traditions, but practicality on the streets was key for me.
But I changed.
I was putting a lot of time and effort into learning something that might never be of any practical use. In fact, if I was in a situation where it looked like a real fight was brewing, I knew that the best strategy would be to wisely consider the alternatives first.
That’s when the penny dropped. I realized that what had become truly important to me was the powerful force Aikido and the Aikido community were having in shaping my life for the better.
That’s not to say that I don’t still insist on Aikido “working” in terms of basic principles, though, but that’s because it’s a martial art.
A parallel evolution…