I am a retired university teacher. I was born in 1944. I studied Wado Ryu karate for about ten years starting when I was 42. I gave it up partly because I felt that I was not receiving instruction in the interior aspects of the art in the dojo where I was a student. I restarted about three years ago in the Shi-Gaku-Kan dojo.
In the course of my exploration of Japanese martial arts I have practised a little Goju Ryu when I was working in New Zealand and couldn't find a Wado dojo. I also began to practise Aikido for a while, but I moved away and there were no Aikido dojos in my new neighbourhood, so I had to leave that art behind. By chance, one day, I found myself in the place where the Shi-Gaku-Kan club was training, and I was reminded of what I had been missing in the years when my exercise was taken in the gym. Changing from Wado Ryu to Shotokan was been difficult, and I still struggle with some of the differences in kihon, and the differences between the Pinan and the Heian katas, but I am making progress, and as a student of the Shi-Gaku-Kan Dojo I feel closer to karate-do than I have ever been before.
My main interest in karate is expressed in the Japanese word do. There is no obvious translation of do into English: way gets somewhere near it, journey is an approximation, even pilgrimage or quest, but do as I understand it comprehends the fact that there is no way without the wayfarer: the way defines the wayfarer as the wayfarer defines the way. Some believe that the way leads to enlightenment; others, and I am among them, believe that the way is enlightenment. Some follow the way of archery, the way of the tea ceremony, the way of flower arranging, the way of the sword: I follow the way of the empty hand, karate-do.
For me, karate-do is an unending exploration which has contingent physical and mental benefits. The physical benefits come from the practical training. You have to be fit to practise karate and part of the training develops aerobic fitness, stamina, and flexibility. There are not many other physical pursuits that a man in his 60s can engage in with children, teenagers, and young men and women, if not with equal ability, at least with equal mutual respect: sincerity of purpose is respected in the karate dojo equally with physical talent. I am not a talented student of karate, and every training session leaves me physically tired, humbled by my lack of skill, but mentally and emotionally exhilarated.
I have never had to confront the threat of physical violence: I hope that I never have to, but if ever I do, the do has taught me to fight without hesitation, and without rage or rancour to protect myself and those I care for.