Monday, January 2, 2012 by C. Michial Jones
In the traditional Okinawan dojo, Hajime Keiko marks the official start of training for the New Year. While the calendar is filled with various ceremonies and observances, this is the true kickoff—the moment where we set the tone for the coming twelve months.
For as long as I can remember, New Year’s Day has been a sacred time for my own training. Every year, regardless of what else is happening, I go to the dojo. Sometimes I have a partner, but usually, I am alone. It is a personal ritual—a quiet, internal renewal of my commitment to the Art.
The Empty Mat
This year, I decided to invite the students to join me for Hajime Keiko on New Year’s Day itself. I wanted to share the importance of that first spark of the year. Can you guess what happened?
No one showed up but me.
I am aware that my approach to teaching is not “popular” by modern standards. I don’t line people up and march them up and down the floor like soldiers, barked at to punch and kick in unison. Most of my students are already black belts. I teach in the Okinawan fashion: I present a concept or a technique, and then I let the student work. I provide corrections and advice, but I do not “carry” them.
In my dojo, the student is responsible for their own progress. The harder they work, the more of my time they receive. If they want to be “hand-held” or entertained, I send them elsewhere.
The Pivot to Self
Over the years, I have sacrificed a great deal for my students. I have given up time with my wife and children, and time I could have spent on my own research, to make myself available to those who said they wanted to learn. But the empty mat on New Year’s Day was a clear signal.
This year, I am changing my focus. I will spend my time training myself. I will work on what I want, what I need, and the specific developments I want to see in my own Karate. I am making changes to the dojo to facilitate my own growth.
If someone shows up to train alongside me, that’s fine. If they don’t, that’s fine too. The path of the martial arts is, in the final analysis, a journey of one. Whether the dojo is full or empty, the work remains. I will continue to do what I want to do—not for the sake of a class, but for the sake of the Art.
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