Inspiratus

Copyright Rick Hotton 2024

Fifty-four years ago I began a journey into karate that has never waned. Besides all the technical striving, what has compelled my practice more than anything has been the capacity to be inspired. The word "inspiration" comes from the Latin word "inspiratus" meaning “to breathe into”. If you go back further, there is a theological basis that refers to the influence of the divine on the individual. I think we can all agree on the uniqueness of the feeling. It is as if an outside energy reinforces your being in an attempt to pull you further. I must confess I'm addicted to that occurrence, but what I have learned and acknowledge is that there is a certain making yourself available in order for this transcendent magic to manifest.

More than anything, the purpose of my karate now, as always, is to make myself available. I look around and see a current culture that has, in many ways, acclimated to itself. Maybe it is the preponderance and ease of information, or the lack of novelty, or perhaps just our collectively compromised dopamine levels. But whatever it is, it is different than once upon a time when stepping into the mystery was so inviting, like unraveling a wonderful riddle that took you back from where you came.

Of all the comments (supportive or not) on the YouTube channel, what pleases me most is when someone expresses that they were inspired, because it has little to do with me but much to do with them and the continued enthusiasm of their journey. In my time left on this spaceship, I plan to adjust my inquiry so as to continue to be on a voracious hunt for the "inspiratus". It gives great meaning to life and makes me feel light.

Saotome Sensei one time came to me in a dream and said, "Earth, Man, Heaven". I think he knows the feeling too.

Placing Your Foot on the Path

Copyright Rick Hotton 2023

My first experience with karate was observing a class as an eleven year old. I still remember to this day what I saw and felt that inspired me to begin a practice that has now endured over five decades. Perhaps unlike others, it was not the physical movements but rather something else that caught my imagination. There was a feeling that permeated the space that had what I can only describe as a sacred quality. It was apparent from that first day that what really defined a practice was not necessarily what you were doing, but rather how you were doing it.

The transcendental quality of a practice can extend far beyond physical movements of self-defense, instead focusing on enriching the quality of one’s humanity. Somehow from this felt experience, this quality of inquiry, I found a hint of the possibility of tremendous transformation, as if it were a song to the human spirit.

The context in which we frame a practice has everything to do with what we ultimately find, and this paradigm is established the moment we set foot in the dojo. If done correctly, when we enter the dojo space, we bow, but it is important to be mindful about the meaning behind the gesture. What is it that we are actually acknowledging? From the onset, we affirm an intention, that in this space we invite a transformative experience. To find the sacredness of all life, we must pick a starting point and fill it with an expectation. When we engage within this contextual frame, all subsequent action is imbued with meaning, and our investment of time honors and celebrates the moments of our lives. Perhaps there is no better “defense of the self.”

In order to find meaning in life, to be fulfilled, to be joyous, there needs to be a cultivation of the human spirit. Like the Phoenix rising up from the ashes, each day we place our foot down in an ambition of transcendence led by hope and effort. Some steps in life by their very nature have greater significance, and through a unique perspective, define our trajectory. In the things we forge ourselves against, we define our possibilities and in so doing find our renewal. In my first observation of a karate class as a young boy, it was in the felt possibilities that the energy of inspiration was found and an arc of a lifetime practice established.

Karate Dough

Copyright Rick Hotton 2023

December 4, 2021

Recently a friend of mine who happens to be a bread maker in San Diego called and expressed some frustration in the pursuit of his craft.  He asked if I ever thought of quitting karate and if there were times perhaps that I felt I knew very little about the subject. “Well of course!” I answered. How do you not encounter those moments? I have on many occasions thought what I could do with my life if I did not spend part of my day training, and just a few nights back I was in a creative space with my practice where I felt an almost euphoric freedom of movement and spontaneity that made my prior practice seem almost obsolete. It was deeply humbling. 

I suppose on the most fundamental level what we are really studying is how to study something. If I think of my practice in this way, I entertain a completely different internal dialogue, one that focuses on the "quality of engagement" as the essential factor guiding the endeavor. Interestingly, I can then apply that quality of approach to other pursuits and, in fact, all moments of life.  When I read Funakoshi Sensei's writing he speaks of "empty hand" as not simply without weapon but more importantly without greed, jealousy, envy etc. — all things that diminish the quality of engagement not just in pursuit of skill but in everyday everything.  Getting up in the morning, putting your foot down, advancing forward even on the days of doubt is an exercise in spirit.  Maintaining an openness for experiences that offer value lends strength to humility (and probably better karate and bread making). 

I know for a fact that on a personal level I would have quit karate a long time ago if I did not see a deeper meaning to my practice. Exercising my imagination to see metaphor in order to extrapolate lessons learned in the dojo (or the bakery) to the larger sphere of life has been a huge component in manifesting meaning and perpetuating enthusiasm. It is this meta-narrative of "quality engagement" that leads to insight, purpose and ultimately "practical" application.  If asked, "Have you ever used your karate?" I would answer, “Of course! Every day.”

I had lunch last week with Saotome Sensei. He said as he has said many times before, "Everything is aikido...not technique".  At its essence, everything in life is "harmonizing/connecting" your "energy" (ai ki). Whether it is your practice, the opponent, or the yeast, it is life.

Spiritual Zanshin

Copyright Rick Hotton 2023

October 11, 2020

What's up with this world?

A few years back, I sent a cartoon to a researcher at the University of Washington who was studying simulation theory — the idea that we may be living in some sort of artificial construct. He wrote back and told me he enjoyed the cartoon and that no one had ever sent him a "simulation cartoon" before. He then added that, all things considered, we probably ARE living in a simulation of sorts. The whole idea really got me thinking about the nature of free will and fate and how the two intercede and determine our visible reality.  I once had a very thoughtful karate teacher who told me, "Karate training is the practice of always taking the higher path." I sort of liked that definition. It is the understanding that at any moment there is a choice and if you are astute you will feel the way to go — a type of spiritual zanshin (human frailty considered).  

I love that back in the day of budo we had elements such as the dojo kun or spiritual reflections from great teachers the likes of Funakoshi, Ueshiba, and Kano that helped define the approach. That’s much different from the hyperbolic talk that is often used today to sell televised fights, etc.. As we proceed in thoughtful or unthoughtful step, we all contribute to the collective, and ultimately define the zeitgeist — the spirit of the times.  If at any given moment we are inspired or not, the question is: what got us here? The passage of this moment and all of time is an endless array of choosing "yes" or "no" to ideas, events, behaviors, etc., a binary code of sorts that charts a trajectory toward the horizon. Often we fail to be aware of the power of our choice because it is subtle or at times manipulated beyond our conscious radar. It is, for example, easier on occasion to adopt a collective ideology (like selecting a bag of yes or no) and in the process surrender the sovereignty of our independent thought. There are many writers who warned us of such risk, like Huxley, Orwell, and Solzhenitsyn. Years back I remember reading a book called "Conversations with God" where the author made a conscious effort to close his eyes, get quiet and pay attention to his personal internal dialog, and by so doing, moved toward his higher self, a more transcendent self.

I wonder, in today’s social/political climate, have we lost that perception? Can we still independently reinvent ourselves every day like the phoenix rising up from ashes? Can we walk our own journey towards our higher self, or will our lack of ability to discern the independent choice, the binary  "yes or no", cause the simulation/society to crash?

Maybe it's time to close my eyes, get quiet, and know.

Personal Zeitgeist

Copyright Rick Hotton 2022

December 7, 2019

At the age of thirteen there was nothing I wanted more than to have the karate technique of Hirokazu Kanazawa. At that time, it was considered in certain circles that Kanazawa Sensei had the most immaculate technical karate skill. There is a youthful purity in wanting to do something more than anything else at such an early age. It is imbued with divine inspiration. I’m sure many can remember when that moment struck — the moment you wanted to do karate more than anything else.  I would spend hours looking over photographs of the great Kanazawa Sensei and then attempt to bend my body into a similar shape.  It got to the point that as a young adult running my dojo, folks visiting from overseas who had trained with Kanazawa Sensei would comment that I must have been a student of the master due to the similar look.  At the time, I found it very complementary.

Then something happened when I turned thirty.  For some reason my whole approach began to change and what was unique to Kanazawa Sensei did not seem to necessarily apply to me anymore.  I was a bit befuddled. I even felt a little lost but not to a point of desperation, rather interestingly to a point of inspiration. My karate began to change in subtle ways that were not necessarily out of conscious design but on a deeper, more subconscious level.  Driven by my personal inquiry and life experience, my outward physical karate was becoming a manifestation of an inward soulful journey. 

I have often thought that for karate to be truly viable in society it has to offer real solutions to what ails the culture at a particular point in time. In other words, it must be a zeitgeist.  A very simple example would be that karate practice can offer self-defense in times of turbulence or a journey of self-discovery in times of peace, and this ability to remedy a situation is the power of its design.  In a similar vein, karate must offer real solutions to the development of the individual for a personal practice to be truly meaningful. Each individual has a unique circumstance of strengths and weaknesses that are addressed via an honest internal dialogue that guides a challenging personal inquiry/practice. Ideally for karate to be personally viable each must walk their own unique path, and in the truth of that “way”, find their own karate — the “outward manifestation of an inward journey”. This is the catalyst of authenticity. In other words, this is the personal zeitgeist.  Today, I still deeply respect and admire the great Kanazawa Sensei and his wonderful technique. However, my karate is now completely different…

…as it should be.

Let the Light In

Copyright Rick Hotton 2022

October 22, 2019

In the morning I train in the upstairs zendo of the Sanctuary, the hombu dojo of the Sunday Morning Keiko community. It is a great space, particularly inviting in the early morning hours due to its spatial orientation. The sun cuts through the training floor offering a warm invitation to practice. I like the feeling of the “birth of the day”. It is filled with hope and possibilities.  I have adopted a comfortable routine of beginning my practice with a meditation and a sentiment of gratitude. Often during this time Funakoshi Sensei will pass through my mind, oddly not intentional, yet he seems to be there. It’s strangely similar to how I often dream of Saotome Sensei when asleep, even though during my waking hours he is not nearly as prevalent. 

These experiences have caused me to question the nature of “transmission”. What I’ve learned is that there is a physical reality that is obvious and tangible, but that there is also a metaphysical reality that manifests in our mind/being that is just as significant in its influence. We dance with it like the reading of a poem. I have learned to pay close attention to this unseen reality because I now recognize it’s the epicenter of intuition and spiritual perception. You may say it’s just the musings of my subconscious mind, but I cannot deny that it influences the deepest aspects of my inquiry that then manifests in a form of spiritual guidance. 

The real trick, I suppose, is to learn to listen. 

Shotokan karate is imbued by this spirit, as are all things.  It lives in the echo of Funakoshi Sensei and the aliveness quality of that thread in the collective consciousness. Although technique or training methods may change, the essential spirit should remain unadulterated if the approach is to be authentic — aligned with the vision of the founder’s intention. Like Ueshiba Sensei’s aikido, Funakoshi’s karate was not purely utilitarian but had a deeper ambition. It was intended to transform the spirit. What better sociocultural contribution? The ability to connect with this quality of intention is a profound point of origin. Although Ueshiba Sensei and Funakoshi Sensei have passed, their intention, ideas, and approach endure; they are the center of the mandala. All that’s required is to form a relationship with the vision as if you, and it, are one. Revelation occurs when the metaphysical world of ideas and spirit manifests, ultimately to concretize into physical reality, like water carving a stream. I had an interesting conversation with Saotome Sensei recently as we sat behind the dojo enjoying the late afternoon light.  He spoke of the quality of “genius” and as I pressed him for a definition, he said, “It is the ability to connect to the unseen world.” He then stated, “Creativity, perception, intuition, this is martial art!!!” Hai, Sensei.

I have learned  to place this aspect, this unseen thing, at the heart of my practice. It illuminates personal meaning and a connection to the tapestry of the “everything”.

It is the sun cutting across the dojo floor.

Truth is Found, Not Given

Copyright Rick Hotton 2022

September 26, 2019

In 1970 when I began my karate practice, there was a great deal of romance and mystique associated with the martial arts, as if they offered a message of salvation, a type of journey to higher ground. I have often wondered what contributed to the spirit of many endeavors of that time, an emergent, ordained zeitgeist of transcendence. To put it in context, it was an interesting era with powerful geopolitical influences reverberating from the echo of the second World War, the existing Cold War, Vietnam, and the real possibility of nuclear annihilation. Yet with all these foreboding forces, there was a resurrection of the human spirit like a prayer of hope for the “good”. I often think of how Morihei Ueshiba’s creation of Aikido, Doshin So’s Shorinji Kempo, or even the pop-culture television show Kung Fu fits into this reactionary motif. This phoenix of spirituality rising up from human dissonance manifested in a "vibe" and if you got it, well…you were "hip". It bucked the establishment and the cultural hegemony that mesmerized the status quo in a type of medicated mediocrity where one day fades into the next and the soul surrenders to fear and the institution. If you were there, you know what I’m talking about.

In extreme circumstances, there emerges a primal "barbaric yawp” as the human spirit exalts and yearns for its higher nature. It is a marvelous phenomena to witness when the purpose of life returns to the individual or the collective and the transcendent vision becomes clear again. Karate-do, aikido, kyudo and many other “ways” offered a road map back to an existence that embraced intuition, perception, and mindfulness. For many of us back then, they were not attempts at self-defense tricks or simply utilitarian in nature. Rather they were all different iterations of a similar human yearning for meaning and a connection to the thing that runs through all things; a totally different way of viewing our humanity. To “wake up”, to be reverent, to be humble just as a function of your being were qualities required in order to knock on the dojo door in the hope to be invited in. It was understood that it was precisely those qualities that would allow you to endure. In other words, with a pure approach, you had to go to “it”, it did not simply come to you — and there lived the magic of transcendence.

How different it is today when enrollment is enticed with a free dogi and all answers can be found on the internet, the collective consciousness but a few key strokes away. Saotome Sensei has a great calligraphy that hangs on the wall of the dojo. It reads, “When you climb the mountain step by step, the mountain moves into your heart.” I’m of the opinion that when we get quiet, we all know this already, and the dissonance that we feel in the world today is only due to the contradiction. 

Deep in our nature lies the truth. It was never a thing given, but found... on the top of a mountain.

Etiquette First

Copyright Rick Hotton 2022

May 31, 2019

As our community of Sunday Morning Keiko continues to grow, it is important within the framework of the individual journey to maintain the integrity of a truthful approach. I am reminded of another beginning, when I inherited my sensei's dojo in 1976. When my teacher passed the dojo down to me, his last bit of parting advice was, “Always teach etiquette first.” It took me many years to fully appreciate the beauty and wisdom of his direction. I also recall my first impression observing a karate class. I happened to arrive a bit late and entered as everyone was seated in seiza during mediation. I often think to myself how important that first impression was in formulating my level of appreciation for what was possible. Karate practice is filled with etiquette and ceremony.

In today's culture we tend to abandon many rituals as artifacts that have little practical value. I would argue that it is precisely those rituals that set the stage for the paradigm of one’s approach, a type of filter in which all further experience is processed. When I am asked to work with a new group, the first thing I pay close attention to is how students transition from the seiza to a standing posture at the beginning of class. For me, it is an indication of the level of mindfulness and ability to connect with the “now”. Everything has a feeling, and that feeling is how you are connecting with the phenomena of this moment. When you realize that there are no ordinary moments, you discover the sacredness of every action as a type of connection to the miracle of your life. It is a uniquely particular form of education and embodies a quality of awakening. Ritual is there to serve as a reminder to PAY ATTENTION. To bow without thought has little meaning, but to bow with a sentiment in your heart that is unique to the circumstance and with deliberate timing serves to connect you with the moment and in a very real way, “brings you to life”. Every bow, every action, has a different sentiment. Whether one is bowing to the dojo, or a fellow student, or one’s teacher, each has a particular feeling behind the gestures. The importance of the bow is as a reminder of the unique reverence of each relationship, a connection to the sacred, the essential. I would relate it to how a master calligrapher, when writing the character for mountain, will often first think of the mountain and only when the image is anchored in the mind will the brush touch the paper. Similarly, every ritual has behind it a sentiment, feeling, or intent that is the heart of a transcendent lesson of connection — it serves as a metaphor for all moments. Imagine if this practice became second nature how much more alive you would be in all things. And is not being more alive a type of self-defense?

Sacredness has always been there, it is just learning to awaken to the miracle of your life that is required, and remembering that all you really have is “now”. Rise up from a seated posture with your back straight, with just the right timing and deep awareness of your surroundings, and when you do, it will have an air of elegance. It IS the transcendent nature of “Grace”.

You Belong to Everything

Copyright Rick Hotton 2022

May 10, 2018

I feel uncomfortable. It is a type of generalized discomfort that has been going on for most of my life. You know the feeling, when you look at things around you and they just don't seem right. It is what caused me to pick up a pencil and start drawing a comic strip in 2008 because, well…I can't play guitar and sing this discomfort out. If I were to try and articulate the "uneasy" I would be hard pressed to label it, other than in some vaguely general way as a lack of "connection" or "spirit". It is a quality that is drowned out by self-interest, profits, tribalism, the "machine" — things that separate or try to control. As a young boy, I specifically began karate in an attempt to find this quality of "connected spirit" because I thought that was the essence of "self-defense" — to be "fully alive". I now know that there are some things that lead me closer to this existence, things like appreciation, humility, compassion and a certain type of deliberateness — things that break down barriers, heighten awareness, and challenge the absurdity of my ego, leading to the heart-felt experience of "now" and my connection to life. It is an interesting dichotomy, where you don't belong to anything in particular because you belong to everything simultaneously, or as Bob Dylan said, "It's not he or she or it that you belong to." So I endeavor not to surrender loyalty to ideology, to institution, to party, but rather to have direct experience and connection, or as one of my greatest teachers once said to me, "Earth, Man, Heaven."  

Spirit running through all things is one of the oldest anthropological beliefs, just another way of saying everything is connected, "everything is everything." It is an epiphany of sorts. 

This is the spirit that I envisioned when I created Sunday Morning Keiko as a community not an "organization". Perhaps it was the latest iteration of what I was looking for as a young boy entering a dojo over 50 years ago. I know for sure that it is not a truth confined to four walls, but a way of being that embraces the heavens.

What is Karate to You?

Copyright Rick Hotton 2022

May 25, 2018

The two 6th dan karate-ka visiting my dojo asked at lunch, "So, what is karate to you?" I paused for a moment knowing that the expected answer would be something like, "One punch victory," but I suppose I owed them an honest personal answer so I drew a deep breath and said, "Love." Well, I can't tell you how long that uncomfortable silent pause afterwards lasted, but I finally broke it by saying, "Well, not in the sentimental way that you may be thinking." I don't think it really helped much. You see, in my mind I equate "love" with "connection" and "appreciation". But I'm not sure any of these words come close to what I feel, they are just the best that I can think of that come close enough. Don't get me wrong, I train as if my life depended on it, and I do believe in the decisive blow, but that is not the apex of the spirit of my practice. The apex is a deeper appreciation and connection to life. That is the core of what I'm after. When I train at 4am in the quiet of the morning, the connection to my body is the thing I'm experiencing. When I step and face the opponent, it is the connection I'm trying to feel as we engage. When I walk in nature, it is my sense of belonging that I rejoice in. When I watch video of my friends as they practice their karate on the shore of some distant land I can see the joy they get from the connection they have to their practice. It is like a gigantic "thank you" for being alive, an appreciation of the deal that was struck. What better "self-defense" than to be more "alive"? Of course these are just my thoughts, but I know for a fact that had I thought of only the utilitarian I would have not sustained a practice for 50 years. As our Sunday Morning Keiko community grows, I rejoice in the connection I have with all the fellow travelers who have been invited to the planet at the same time and share this similar interest. And not to forget the connection to all those that have passed — yes, I practice Funakoshi's karate.

Letting Go of the Dock

Copyright Rick Hotton 2022

June 22, 2018

"Edge of the back foot straight!!" Sensei yelled from the hall before he even entered the dojo. It was actually sort of humorous that he knew our mistakes before even seeing us that evening. Everything in the beginning was about creating perfect structure. I'm sure many can relate to the relationship we all had with the shinai in those days. Then in 2000 I met a teacher who said, "Rick! No more form!" It was troubling to a degree, I must admit — sort of like letting go of the dock. It was at that moment, however, that my karate connected with something much deeper, or maybe the word "intimate" is better. It was as if I went from being a noun to a verb. Karate became more about a relationship I was having with the occurrence of life than about creating a picture. In the alchemy of that paradigm was my unique individuality. Yes, like any relationship, you could call it "chemistry." Another thing seemed to change. I began to feel my practice was alive — a sort of celebration, a type of testimony of my life. My technique got softer, more continuous, and intention driven, all characteristics of a type of connection with the moment. It was as if every day something was changing, sort of the way life changes from day to day. I traded an element of constraint with a dynamism that was free to evolve with an ever-changing internal dialogue. I have learned that this is a quality that should be encouraged - at least on a personal level in my own practice.  

I love Funakoshi Sensei's adoption of 5th Dan as the highest grade. It speaks volumes. At that level, no two individuals’ karate can truly be compared, because at that point it is uniquely you. After four or five decades of practice, is there any relative comparison to be made? Find the beauty of your karate, be hungry for that authenticity, honor that quality in another, and live in the connection and celebration of the moment. 

Karate, life - it is all the same.  

Is there any better way?

Long Live the Storytellers

Copyright Rick Hotton 2022

April 18, 2018

I remember once reading a great story about Terry Dobson when he was living in Japan training Aikido in the 60s. As the story goes, he was riding a train when he encountered a belligerent drunk creating a scene and threatening some travelers. As Terry tells the story, he always wanted to test his martial art skills and as an imposing man of 6ft. 225lbs, young, and full of strength, this was as good a time as any to come to the rescue of the passengers. As Terry stood up to confront the drunk, a voice from an old man who was sitting nearby yelled out to the drunk, “Hey!” and as the drunk turned the old man said, “What have you been drinking?” The drunk responded “Sake!” At that, the old man said, “My wife and I love sake, and often drink a warm cup at sundown in our garden and look at how our persimmon tree is doing.” The drunk quietly responded, "I love persimmons, too," as his voice trailed off. “Yes,” said the old man, smiling, “and I’m sure you have a wonderful wife.” “No,” replied the drunk. “My wife died.” Very gently, swaying with the motion of the train, the drunken man began to sob. “I have no wife, I don’t have a home. I don't have a job. I am so ashamed of myself.” Tears rolled down his cheeks; a spasm of despair rippled through his body. Terry got off at the next stop and as the train pulled away, he sat down on a bench. What he had wanted to do with muscle had been accomplished with kind words. He had just seen Aikido tried in combat, and the essence of it was love. He said that he would have to practice the art with an entirely different spirit and that it would be a long time before he could speak about the resolution of conflict. 

When I started karate at the age of ten, I loved the stories as much as I loved the technique. I'm sure some of you can relate, it was part of the time. What I liked was that it had to do with not just how to "do" something but also how to "be".

Stories and storytellers like Terry Dobson were gems and sadly less revered today as we live in a world of reality TV, utilitarianism and win at all cost mentality. Years ago, I joined Richard Kim's organization for the simple reason that he was a great story teller, and from his stories I acquired inspiration that gave deep meaning to my practice — it just felt different. I miss that quality today. It is in fact why I started drawing my humble cartoon Holy Molé — to find the spirit of things again. You see, mythology is not something that is untrue, in fact it is the deeper truth that resides in all our subconscious, like Joseph Campbell's "Hero with a Thousand Faces". Things like empathy, compassion, and connection are fundamental to the growth of the spirit and add value and meaning to life — always has and always will. Because in the end, everything IS everything. Long live the inspirational story tellers. We need them now more than ever. They reach into our humanity and influence the story we quietly tell ourselves.

State of Grace

Copyright Rick Hotton 2022

April 3, 2018

“Faster, stronger, more snap! You're not good enough!” Man, I remember those days — my practice was so ambition driven. Looking back I wonder how much I savored the joy of the moment or was I putting my mind out there on some distant horizon. Today I approach my practice much differently. Maybe it is a sign of getting older, but I attempt to live in the present, extracting everything I can from the "now". What's on the horizon will come soon enough. Don't get me wrong, drive is good, I still train about 4 hours a day, but I have made friends with my practice. It is more like a companion now than an adversary. I often train late at night (3:00-4:00 in the morning) when the rest of the world around me is asleep. Something about the quiet helps me connect. In many ways I've distilled my practice down to a hunt for the essential — technique leads to principle and principle leads to something much deeper at the core, some fundamental truth that is at the substrate of all things. For me, it is my connection to the Blessing of this moment. When I started to feel that, everything seemed to change. My priorities were rearranged. Things like friendship became more important than politics, laughter more important than worry. It was as if I woke up to some funny miracle that I had forgotten. Of course I fade in and out of that state because of my frailty as a human, but I now recognize this is the quiet truth of the path. If I had any ambition left, it would be that our humble group of Sunday Morning Keiko would bring this quality back as a central theme to a practice, for joy in the heart is a state of Grace.

The Path

Copyright Rick Hotton 2022

March 27, 2018

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

A few years back when I was first approached by a syndication company concerning my comic strip Holy Molé, the senior editor asked me to describe the characters. When I told him that the path was an actual character he said that he had never really heard of such a thing. I tried to explain that “the path” is the thing that we engage everyday, the subtle voice that speaks to the growth of our spirit - leading one to live true to their nature with authenticity. I offered an example to the editor with the simple illustration that if you are a truck driver and your inclination is to write poetry, you may want to consider being a poet, or vice versa. I’m still not convinced he totally understood the nature of my “path” character. 

In terms of everything we do, there is the path character whispering to us, with a subtle invitation to live a life of authenticity that by its very nature is true to our spirit. My aikido teacher Mitsugi Saotome Sensei often says, “To be or not to be.” Paying attention, listening, learning to see, and trusting the heart are all in the realm of “to be.” Often on courses I tell folks to embrace their awesomeness. It may sound whimsical but it is my attempt to encourage karate-ka to befriend the beauty of their unique existence and then to listen to the inner dialogue that follows. It is from that dialogue that personal epiphanies are found, the spirit grows, and the path emerges. If there is any secret to karate besides hard work, it is in the quality of the questions you ask yourself — in essence what you are looking for. Perhaps it is important to pay attention to your inner dialogue and refine the construction of the emerging path that is your authentic self. Be warned however that others will be fearful, for it is difficult to constrain the empowered individual that is in touch with their existential core. 

In our Sunday Morning Keiko community, this is one of the qualities that I would like to encourage. It is a departure from the “institutionalized man” encumbered by politics, at odds with those of opposing views and always in comparison with others. Rather it is a level of personal inquiry congruent with your independent nature, at peace with the world, respectful of others, and ultimately a celebration of the Blessing of a life.

No Groupies

Copyright Rick Hotton 2022

March 17, 2018

Recently, I was interested in a particular turn from the kata Nijushiho. Just out of curiosity, I wondered how many high level karateka turned on the ball of their foot and how many turned on the heel - that endless debate. As it "turns" out, it was about half and half. Of course there are great arguments that can be made either way, which illustrates in my mind that both ways have sound validity. Perhaps the greater epiphany is that beyond the ball of foot/heel debate there exists a deeper truth — that there is no gospel Truth! When a student and friend of mine suggested we put some video content on YouTube a few years back I was resistant for that very reason, because I did not want to come across as telling anyone how they should or should not do their karate, just offer some of the observations that I have discovered over the arc of a 50 year practice. Yet even with that said, it is not the gospel truth! Just observations. If they make sense to you, please take them. If they don't, then disregard them. No matter what anyone tells you, just remember, it is ALL hypothesis.

My Aikido teacher Mitsugi Saotome Sensei often says "no groupies.” In other words, don't fawn after an individual, because if you do, you are looking out when you should be looking in. I formed Sunday Morning Keiko with this spirit in mind — organize great depth of community resource with the individual inquiry as the essential theme.

You have one life; find it.