Chesapeake Schools of Shotokan KarateDo

**Dirigir un dojo no es juntar alumnos: es saber construir**

Miyamoto Musashi, en *El libro de los cinco anillos*, compara el camino del guerrero con el trabajo del maestro carpintero. El maestro carpintero conoce las leyes, las medidas, las normas del lugar y las necesidades de la obra. No toma cualquier madera para cualquier parte. Sabe qué madera sirve como columna, cuál puede sostener una zona secundaria, cuál conviene usar en otro lugar y cuál, aunque esté torcida, todavía puede cumplir una función si se la entiende bien.

Esta imagen es muy profunda para quien dirige un dojo. Un dojo no se sostiene solamente con técnicas, horarios y alumnos. Se sostiene con visión, experiencia, criterio y capacidad para reconocer a cada persona. No todos llegan con la misma fuerza, la misma claridad, el mismo carácter ni la misma historia. Algunos tienen una base muy firme. Otros vienen con dificultades, pero con un potencial enorme. Otros necesitan tiempo, cuidado y una guía diferente.

El instructor que dirige un dojo tiene que aprender a mirar. No para etiquetar a nadie, sino para ubicar a cada practicante donde pueda crecer y aportar. Como el carpintero, debe saber qué necesita la obra completa. A veces una persona será una columna fuerte. Otra ayudará en silencio. Otra encontrará su lugar con los años. Y otra, aunque al principio parezca difícil, puede convertirse en una parte valiosa si se trabaja correctamente.

Dirigir un dojo no es buscar gente perfecta. Es construir una comunidad seria con personas reales. Ahí está el arte: formar, corregir, sostener, exigir cuando hace falta y cuidar el sentido general del camino.

Cada parte del dojo importa. La fortaleza de una escuela no está en que todos sean iguales, sino en que cada uno encuentre una función noble dentro de algo más grande. Un buen maestro no solo enseña técnicas. También aprende a construir una casa que pueda durar.

**Gabriel Benítez©**

I once asked Okazaki sensei what the relationship was between Zen and karatedo. He answered that they were two paths up the same mountain.

Motobu Chōki said that he could remain seated, perform kata in his mind, and naturally begin to perspire.

Today, this would be described as mental practice using motor imagery. Modern sports science has shown that deep mental concentration can produce autonomic responses—including changes in heart rate and breathing, as well as perspiration—even when the body is not actually moving.

Imagery training did not become widely established in Japanese sports until the 1990s and 2000s. Yet Motobu Chōki was already practicing kata in his mind several decades earlier. His approach deserves attention as a remarkably pioneering form of training, not only in the history of karate but also from the perspective of sports psychology.

To learn more about Motobu Chōki, Zen, and the practice of “performing kata in the mind,” please read the full article at the link below:

[https://www.patreon.com/MotobuNaoki/posts/motobu-choki-and-164301179?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link](https://www.patreon.com/MotobuNaoki/posts/motobu-choki-and-164301179?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link)

Zen (On being present in training and life)

Iha Sensei would speak of kata as “moving zen” and a “neck down” activity. To him, the eyes told all; the zanshin, unattached openness that sees everything because it focuses on nothing. “To gaze at a far mountain.” He would say that when you do kata by yourself it should be a “no time” moment. Additionally, he reminded us that when you do kata in front of others you should start with a feeling that your very best is right now and you deserve to be taken seriously, even though you know you are not a master.

Kata serves as a microcosm of a way of cultivating non-obsessive overthinking. If I am always obsessed with errors, outcomes and goals, my mind is in a state of future thinking, and because my present very rarely aligns with the desired results I am obsessed with or focused on, frustration and dissatisfaction occur. When I trust in my teacher’s direction, it’s about the process at that moment in class, at that kata, not hypothetical futures. That moment can only be taken away by overthinking. However, if I am focused on the process, not taking my own temperature, it suddenly becomes enjoyable and freeing, because I am once again fully present in the present. And this we call zen.

Then we can see how daily life has enough cares of its own and that by attending to the present we live more expansively, without being burdened by the hypothetical problems that by and large never come to pass. Kata thus serves as a training of the mind to be neither satisfied nor dissatisfied. It is in the doing that things are done. Trust the process to cultivate the unfettered mind.

#着眼 #小林流志道館 #志道 #志道館

The Price of Loyalty

A lifetime of dedication can be forgotten because of a single rumor, a misunderstanding, or one mistake. This painful reality has been experienced by many teachers, leaders, and martial artists throughout history. An old karate master may spend decades shaping students into disciplined, honorable people, yet some will eventually walk away, criticize the very person who guided them, or even betray the values they were taught.

True karate is not only about punches, kicks, or winning tournaments. It is about building character, respect, humility, and loyalty. A genuine sensei gives knowledge without expecting fame or reward. He sacrifices his time, energy, and often his own comfort so that others may become stronger in both body and spirit.

Sadly, not every student remembers those sacrifices. Success can make people forget where they started. Pride can replace gratitude, and ambition can overshadow respect. When that happens, the deepest wound is not physical—it is the heartbreak of seeing one's own students abandon the principles they once promised to uphold.

Yet a true master does not allow bitterness to define his life. Even when betrayed, he continues to live by the values of karate: perseverance, patience, honor, and compassion. He understands that character is revealed not when life is easy, but when it is painful.

Every karateka should remember that techniques may win matches, but integrity wins respect. Belts will fade, trophies will gather dust, and applause will eventually disappear. What remains is the legacy of how we treated the people who helped us become who we are.

Honor your teachers. Respect those who opened the door for your journey. Never let temporary success erase years of guidance and kindness. The greatest victory in karate is not defeating an opponent—it is remaining loyal to the principles of respect, gratitude, and humility for a lifetime.