
Wooden chest image generated by Adobe Firefly
This was my second time at a tournament which is held about an hour’s drive from home. It’s a little different from the tournaments I’m used to. Instead of sparring competition our hosts hold seminars in the morning before the kata (forms) competition. There are a few other differences in how the divisions are organized and scores are used instead of flags. This tournament also welcomes competitors from other martial arts. Last year I made friends with a Kung-Fu sifu and his students, which led to me doing a little cross-training.
It’s always refreshing to see things through the lens of other karate styles and even through the lens of other martial arts. This year I realized I am also seeing things through my own lens and that lens is changing as I learn and grow. During the seminars I connected the material presented to the kata (forms) I’ve memorized over the years. For example, a seminar on pressure points went deeper than just the novelty of the “BZZAP” sensation caused by the instructor demonstrating pressure points on me. We were encouraged to think about the “bonus points*” any given movement in a kata might be targeting. A seminar on self defense within kata prompted me to think about where kata might show I’m evading someone. I’m an aggressive fighter who likes to work close in, so my bunkai (interpretation of kata) has been slanted that way. Obviously I need to expand my understanding to include different modes of thought than my own. I’m sure if life were like cartoons there would have been light bulbs going off over my head nearly constantly. I have loads of food for thought. What might I have gleaned if I were fixated on another aspect of my art? Probably quite a lot! Maybe next year the lens I’m looking through will be different again.
The tournament itself was great. I didn’t place in any of the three divisions I entered, but I had some personal firsts.


My first time competing in synchronized kata (forms) was also my first time competing in weapons kata. A little background. I’d had a taste of kobudo via online classes through the karate organization I belong to. I wanted more, so I joined a kobudo class at a friend’s dojo (school). Sometime in the Autumn my kobudo sensei (instructor) challenged three of us to not only learn a tonfa kata (see picture) but also to learn to synchronize our movements. My team-mates also had a first – this was their first tournament. Our scores were good, and exactly what I was expecting given that we’d only been working on the kata twice a week for about three months. Certainly pushing ourselves out of our comfort zones was a great experience.
The second division I competed in was individual weapons. This was my first time performing bo (long staff) kata in tournament. I earned somewhat higher scores than I was expecting. There’s definitely room for improvement. The kata I chose is pretty advanced (Sunakake no Kon). I could have chosen an “easier” kata, but… I was working around a problem with my left knee and couldn’t hit one of the required stances just right in an “easier” kata that I’ve memorized. Not only that but Sunakake no Kon just “feels” more like the advanced empty-hand kata(s) I’ve worked with for most of the last ten years. It’s always best to go with a kata that speaks to you, that you know you can throw your heart and fire and passion into. I need that fire in order to practice the kata enough to prepare for tournaments.
I threw my soul into the empty-hand kata I performed. Its name is Aoyanagi and this was the first time in roughly 39 years that I’d performed it in tournament. At that long-ago tournament I stepped out with the wrong leg on the first movement of Aoyanagi. My teenage self was absolutely mortified at the mistake. Several months later I quit karate . A couple of years or so into my present karate journey I re-learned Aoyanagi thanks to Sensei YouTube. I haven’t presented Aoyanagi in tournament because I had other kata to choose from. This tournament season I can’t do justice to most of my kata due to my bad knee. Aoyanagi accommodates the knee. But more than that, as I considered which kata to prepare, I realized performing Aoyanagi would bring me peace about the long-ago mistake. My scores were good, a little higher than I expected, but this wasn’t about the scores. This performance was all about closure (for lack of a better word). I’m at peace about that long-ago mistake. I think my teenage self would be astounded and proud.
It was quite the day. Knowledge learned, even when filtered through a lens, is still knowledge gained. Three personal firsts is quite an accomplishment for a tournament. In future seminars I’ll think about how my perspective has changed. In future competitions I’ll look for more “firsts,” which might be more subtle than the “firsts” I had at this tournament. I’ll remember that sometimes it’s possible to gain closure from long-ago mistakes. I know this can be a hot-button topic, but I do like the “participation medal” I received because this little memento reminds me of everything I learned and, yes, accomplished that day.
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*The seminar instructor calls pressure points, “bonus points” because they’re very difficult to hit.
Great to hear you’re pushing yourself into new territory! And I agree- participation medals or trophies mean something… they mean you got did more than someone sitting at home criticizing others on the internet! Keep up the good work!
LOL, I heard one of your podcasts which addressed the topic of participation medals, so I have to thank you for your positive influence 🙂 And thanks for the encouragement.