I have always had a great deal of respect for practitioners of martial arts. Those that have achieved advanced status have an inner calm about them which seems consistent, regardless of which discipline they have chosen. It is that sense of, “I could kill you if I wanted to but I won’t.” No need to demonstrate what they can do, you just know. I personally have had little to no first hand martial arts experience. I have taken a few different classes over the years, but have never found the one that felt right for me. However, after watching The Last Samurai this winter, I knew I had found something I wanted to learn how to do.

The movie was extremely entertaining and I was fascinated by the sword techniques displayed. I read all about how much time and energy Tom Cruise spent in preparation for this role and concluded that this was for me. The martial art depicted in the film is Kenjutsu, which means sword skills. Even as a kid I always was intrigued by the sword. I am a child of Star Wars and remember having my own light saber. I have read that Yoda, the jedi master, was cast in the mold of a Japanese Sensei. Recently movies like Samurai and Lord of the Rings have rekindled that boyhood appeal of the sword.

O.K. I know what I want to do, but where do I go? It did not take me long to discover that we have a traditional Japanese Dojo right here in Sussex County. Delaware Budokan, which means house of warriors, is located in Selbyville. After a visit to their website, and a few exchanged emails, I had my first Kenjutsu lesson scheduled.

I really had no idea what to expect as I headed south to meet with Philip Scudieri, who from this point on will be referred to as Sensei. The word Sensei literally means born first, meaning he has already been to the place the students desire to reach. His role is more of a guide then a teacher, and any Sensei is given a great deal of respect in the Japanese culture.

 Scudieri Sensei, in Japan the name comes before the title, has been training since 1971 and teaching for over thirty years. He holds senior black belts in numerous Japanese and Korean martial arts. The more I read about him the more I think, how fortunate am I? The fact that I have stumbled upon this incredibly experienced instructor so close to home has me very excited for my new endeavor.

As I arrive at the house of warriors I am very impressed by what I see. The facility is located on an acre of land just off route 54. The entire place certainly looks the part, complete with Koi pond and traditional Japanese landscape.

The Dojo, as it is called, is one of the largest of its type in the country. The word Dojo means “way place” It is the place where students will realize the reality of their chosen art. Apparently there are thousands of facilities where Asian martial arts are practiced; however few warrant the distinction of being called a Dojo. A book I was given on the first day differentiates the two by saying that a school teaches you how to kill, but a Dojo teaches you how to die. Meaning a much deeper understanding of the art, well beyond the techniques will be what is offered here.

The appearance of the Budokan Dojo is intriguing. The interior is decorated, but not excessively. It certainly does have a functional Zen feel. The walls are covered with numerous weapons, some wooden, some steel. The far end of the room houses a shrine, which I learn is traditionally how it is done. The shrine area also contains a complete Samurai suit of armor, which pre-dates the era of The Last Samurai.

My initial expectation is that I will be fairly good at this and will progress quickly. I consider myself a pretty decent athlete and have competed in several sports at the collegiate level. Fitness is what I do, so that certainly should not be an issue. I am very motivated and believe I have better then average discipline and focus, so I should just kick butt right? Guess again.

I have booked a one hour private lesson with Sensei. And the first thing that I discover is that this is the real deal. All the rituals and traditions of an authentic Japanese Dojo are followed here. Sensei takes this training very seriously and therefore has my undivided attention immediately.

After we bow to the shrine and enter the Dojo, I am given a wooden stick, which has approximately the same dimensions as a real sword. It is called a bokken. The bokken is not used to protect me as much as it is used to protect the real swords from damage. Apparently the real sword cuts bone, where as the bokken shatters bone. Fair enough. I find that I have no problem focusing on the task at hand. Nothing focuses like fear. This is one of several differences between the art of Kenjutsu, which means sword skills and the sport of Kendo which means, way of the sword. In the sport of Kendo, one wears protective armor and scores points for hits with a much friendlier varation of the sword. Kendo is akin to Japanese fencing. However, if you know you are not going to get hurt, one approaches the conflict a lot differently. I am told that as soon as I achieve some level of proficiency we will be using real swords.

Sensei begins showing me some basic cuts with the bokken and introduces me to a Kata, which is a prearranged series of techniques. I even learn how to remove blood from my sword. I am told that Kenjutsu is only taught to adults. Since this is all about death, the subject matter is not appropriate for kids. The next thing I discover is that this is really hard. My strength and quickness serve no purpose whatsoever. In fact they seem to be a hindrance. We do not muscle this. I am sloppy and do not have flow. I realize right away how amazing this guy really is and how bad I am. I manage to stumble through the session, and come to the conclusion that this is probably the toughest thing I have ever done and I have loved every minute of it. A friend of mine is a ballet dancer and I think she would probably be a lot better at this then I am. She could see a complex dance move one time and do it perfectly. This always amazed me, “How can you visualize all of that and do it after having seen it only once?” I would ask. “I can just see it in my mind”, she would reply. The sword Katas are a lot like a choreographed dance move.

Sensei can see that I do not feel as if I have done very well. He says, “In five years of focused training one can learn to fly the most sophisticated military aircraft. Five years of sword training and a master swordsman would still make short work of you. You have had one hour.”

I leave the Dojo feeling very humbled, but cannot wait for my next lesson. I have my own Bokken and homework to practice prior to our next meeting. I now have a standing appointment and the desire to improve in this fascinating yet difficult art.

I continue to attend my weekly sessions and am given something new every time. I am improving, no question about that. However, the better I get, the more I realize how far I have to go. I find this very appealing. We all tend to focus on the things we do well. When was the last time you went out of your comfort zone and did something totally new? I find this to be a very healthy concept and something we all need to do on a regular basis. For as long as I can remember, I have directed all of my energy into activities I already do fairly well. The hour sessions feel like minutes and I am gaining a sense of awareness and focus that I can feel in other areas of my life. Even driving home from class I feel so much more in tune with everything going on around me. Sensei is convinced that this training will make me a better endurance athlete as well. I have been a triathlete for twelve years and have set personal bests in the Ironman triathlon distance and the half marathon since I began my sword training.

I still remember well the first night I practiced Katas with a real blade. Many of the movements bring the sword close to your body. I was never aware of just how close I was coming with the bokken. However, with a real sword in my hands, I am confident in saying there were no thoughts in my mind other then the task at hand. Once again, nothing focuses like fear. Sensei only uses authentic antique Japanese swords. This is done because of the superior quality of the weapon, and the respect for tradition. The sword was the soul of the Samurai, and merely brushing against a Samurai’s sword on the street was an offense punishable by death. After, several sessions with real swords, I was presented with Sensei’s personal sword for the night’s katas. It was such a work of art. The sword is worth more then my first few cars combined and was truly beautiful.

One Kenjutsu concept that I have found very appealing and useful in all areas of life is called mushin. Mushin is a mental state where all of your energy is focused on doing one thing. This is not unique to martial arts and can be seen in other Asian disciplines. Japanese flower arrangers and calligraphers practice it as well. In order to focus all your energy on one thing, you must first be able to focus on no thing. Take a moment to relax and make an effort to have your mind become a blank slate. Do not think about anything. Pretty tough isn’t it? I have read that this is the most challenging concept for Westerners to grasp. Our minds are just way too busy. We all have been to this place occasionally and it is usually by accident. And as soon as you realize you are there it is gone. I have experienced it on the golf course in the past. Any golfer will tell you that they have had a round that was going so well they were just unconscious. They were in the zone. Every shot was perfect and no thought was given to it. They are not thinking about club head speed or weight transfer, just grip it and rip it. However, as soon as you realize what you are doing, you are thinking again and the zone is lost. The warrior does not have time to think, he must react. If you think, you are dead. Do you think to pull back your hand when you touch something hot? No, you just do it.

In order to achieve mushin we have to make an effort to clear our minds of all conscious thought. I have found that on long training runs if I focus on just counting my breaths until the numbers just sort of drift away I can get there. Once in this place the effort of the running just goes away.

I have found it interesting to compare Sensei’s technique to my own as a personal trainer. There are some similarities in what we do. I spend my day instructing and motivating my clients to become more fit. So am I a gym Sensei? I teach and instruct as he does. However the goals are certainly different. Where as I make an effort to create an environment where clients feel comfortable, this being the gym, Sensei is creating a warrior. Not much hand holding going on at the Budokan. He is extremely patient and respectful, but is also very quick to inform me that my mistake just cost me my life. I also believe this experience has made me more empathetic regarding my novice clients. Techniques that are so simple to Sensei are mind boggling to me. I suppose the same could be said about some strength training exercises and one’s first trip to the gym.

For more info on Paul's Kenjutsu Dojo visit: www.delawarebudokon.org.