Shugyo Training

On the weekend of February 8th I took part in a Shugyo training retreat on Kurama Mountain here in Kyoto, Japan.

Shugyo is a kind of ascetic training that became popular as a form of martial practice during the sixteenth century, although its history goes back further than that. It involves rigorous physical training combined with the removal of the distractions (and comforts) of everyday life.

A small group of members from my dojo and another affiliated dojo travelled to Kurama Temple to spend a night with the monks there and to train.Kurama Temple tops the mountain in Kurama, and it required a hike of about an hour to get up to the top. The area is a place of particular significance in the mythology of the area, and it is believed that it is the site of particular gods first contact in their descent to the Earth.

That aside, Kurama is also a place with a long history of shugyo training, and is purportedly an area that was used by many warriors-in-training beginning over 900 years ago. It was this aspect, combined with the religious significance of the area, that motivated Igo-sensei to begin these annual training camps at Kurama. About fifteen people, both from my dojo and from Igo-sensei's dojo took part in the training camp.

We headed for the mountains after Saturday's usual Aikido practice and after hiking up the mountain we settled into the large tatami rooms inside the temple where we would be staying. It was quite an experience getting changed into our uniforms in a room that was so cold that you could see your breath. There was still snow on the ground around the temple, and they had somehow managed to make the inside colder than the outside.

We ate dinner in a dining hall in one of the lower levels of the temple (which seemed to have a million lower levels underneath the small above-ground building). The dinner was eaten in total silence, and was presided over by one of the head monks in the temple. The food was all typical vegetarian Buddhist fare consisting largely of mountain vegetables and various kinds of pickles (don't think Bick's pickles here...the Japanese actually have a multitude of pickle varieties).

Although the first evening did include a few hours of training, it was largely devoted to orienting ourselves in the temple and preparing ourselves for the day ahead (which was to start at five a.m., no less). We slept in two large tatami rooms on simple futon mats which we spread around a small kerosene heater.

Morning found us rising at five o'clock, as promised, and hiking further up the mountain in our uniforms headed for an ancient training ground at the summit. The sun hadn't even come up yet when we found ourselves in the midst of a grove of giant cedars, paying our respects at a shrine for past warriors.

Before proceeding with our sword practice we fanned out in a large circle in the grove and prepared ourselves with breathing practice as Igo-sensei performed a Buddhist chant. I have to admit that at this point I had to do one of my frequent 'reality checks'. Here I was, standing in the dark with a bunch of people in martial attire, chanting on top of a mountain among a grove of cedars that appeared to each be about ten times older that Canada. Once I affirmed that yes, in fact, I was really there and no, I hadn't joined a cult, I was ready for sword practice.

Sword practice focused more on the release of energy than on the sword itself, and something about the surroundings made it easy to concentrate everything into each sword stroke. Again, it was pretty surreal hearing our shouts echoing through the mountains as we followed the sensei's exhortations to 'let out the ki'. I guess this is one of those 'you had to be there' kind of things...it sounds a little strange to me as I write this now, but this really is a fundamental part of Aikido and it was something that I was glad to be able to focus on.

From there we had to hurry back to the temple for the morning worship with the monks. To the left is a picture inside the worship area itself, with the fiercesome statue of the sun god looming in the darkness in the middle. This ceremony was truly an incredible event to have been able to take part in. The head monk, whose back was to us, was enveloped in a cloud of incense smoke that made it seem as if his body was burning as he chanted, and the sound of the drums resonating in the predawn stillness of the mountain puncuated the deep, metred chants of the monks.

That's not to say that it was all roses. We had to sit in formal Japanese style (seiza) on the hardwood floors for what seemed like an eternity. While at first, in the magic of the ceremony, I didn't notice that my feet were slowly going to sleep. It was once the ceremony ended that I noticed the pain in my lower extremities, but to my alarm, nobody was moving. We had a monk sitting directly behind us, so it really seemed as if movement would be a very bad idea. The priestess of the Temple came back in, and to my dismay began giving a lecture on training. As time wore on, I noticed that the guy sitting in front of me looked like he was about to keel over, and I myself was becoming convinced that I would never be able to walk again. After the lecture was finally over we all staggered to our feet, and I somehow managed to muster the strength to kneel again for the above picture.

As we emerged from the darkness of the temple we saw that dawn had finally come, and with it a magnificent view of the mountains around us. And so began the next day of training.

Morning in the temple with mist rising through the mountains.

The day was spent mostly - to my alarm - doing Aikido practice and not, as I had thought, more sword practice. The reason that I found this troubling is because Aikido - for those of you who don't know - involves throwing people. The necessary corollory of this, of course, is that it also involves a lot of falling. Funny, I thought, I don't remember seeing any mats...

Yes, most of the rest of the day was spent being thrown on a hardwood floor. Any parts that didn't involve that were spent sitting in formal Japanese style again on the same very hardwood floors. The combination was excrutiating, especially for someone as bony as me (having as little natural padding as can be had without starving oneself).

When finally, late that afternoon, we left the temple to head down the mountain my mind became focused on one thing only: heading without delay to the onsen to steam the cold and bruises out of my body.