MY JOURNEY WITH MASTERS OF AIKI - 12

 

Original Creative Principles of the Universe

Reiki-no-hô Kashima-Shinryū

Inaba Minoru Sensei, the 2nd Kancho of Shiseikan
Commissioned as Meiyo Kancho of Shiseikan

There are no words, expressions, or technical processes that can fully explain Sensei Minoru Inaba. What I experienced with him was the most difficult thing to explain: an evolving and transformational process in the code of Bushido, a merging of ReiKi and AiKi.

The most direct link between these two arts is Sensei Inaba. The connection between Reiki-no-hô (and Kashima-Shinryū as a whole) and Aikido is primarily established through twentieth-century lineage cross-pollination. This historic connection highlights how specific internal mechanics became woven into Aikido practice.

Sensei Minoru Inaba, as the long-time director of the prestigious Shiseikan Dojo at the Meiji Shrine in Tokyo, openly synthesized his Aikido with Kashima-Shinryū principles. He taught Kashima's sword system (Kashima-no-tachi) alongside Aikido, introducing generations of Aiki to Reiki-no-hô.

While the founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, drew his core physical curriculum from Daitō-ryū Aiki-jūjutsu, the introduction of Reiki-no-hô through cross-training provided a highly compatible framework for internal energy management.

Before writing this part, I researched and tried my best to pick the right approach to express it. Frankly, it is just a childish attempt, and obviously, it cannot be limited to words.

Reiki-no-hô functions as Kashima-Shinryū's native version of this engine. It teaches a practitioner to drop their center of gravity, relax the shoulders, and project ki through a stable skeletal structure.In Kashima-Shinryū, the physical application of Reiki-no-hô manifests as Reikinage (spirit-energy throw). In Reikinage, when an attacker grabs the defender's arm, the defender changes the density of their body frame and drops their center. This collapses the attacker's balance without a visible struggle.

Before any movement or contact happens, the practitioner (tori) must establish an unshakeable skeletal frame.At the exact point of contact, do not brace against uke. Allow uke's force to travel through your arms, down your spine, and directly into the floor. Treat your arms like iron pipes wrapped in cottonstructurally rigid but surface-relaxed.

Changing Body Density and Breath, This step acts as the catalyst for the technique, shifting the interaction from a muscular struggle to a structural collapse.

"Become heavy water," Mentally and physically, drop all residual buoyancy out of your chest. This sudden grounding causes an immediate change in the "feel" of your arms to uke. To uke, it feels as if tori's arms have suddenly tripled in weight, drawing uke's center of balance forward and down.

The final projection happens because tori's entire torso moves forward as a single, unified unit (sotai). Uke is thrown not because they were pushed, but because their base was completely erased by tori's structural alignment.

Kashima-Shinryû teaches that the ultimate goal of martial art practice is to realize the "original creative principles of the universe," the martial techniques that one practices also must be performed as a part of the same beginningless and ceaseless cycle of emergence, reintegration, and re-emergence (hakken, kangen, suishin) exhibited by all natural phenomena.

 

MY JOURNEY WITH MASTERS OF AIKI - 11

 

No Touch – AIKI NAGE

There are a lot of arguments and assumptions about No-Touch throws in martial arts practice. Then we often see them in demonstrations and videos. I was very sceptical about this, and once again, my answer was Tanaka Sensei.

This particular day at the Meiji Jingu Shiseikan Dojo, I was already known for one thing: when asked to be the uke (the person being thrown), I would give my hundred percent. Nothing stopped me. Full force, aggression, and a real attack. Nothing halfway.

This made me a favourite uke of many distinguished Sensei and Sempai.

On this occasion, a unique throwing technique was being demonstrated. The technique involved moving the centre and hips, projecting through the movement of the hands into the throw. I was standing in the line, waiting for my turn. For some reason, when my turn came, I rushed aggressively towards the Sensei with pure, brutal force.

I don't remember touching any part of his body. There was no feeling of touch, no push, no pull, and no kind of physical force that I could recognise. Wondering why my body had not yet touched the tatami. I was simply waiting to do the breakfall.

Then clearly heard the sound, “Wooow… Haah…” There was a sense of surprise around me. A moment later, I hit the ground. The angle of the fall caused some real pain and tried to get up and return to the line.

It was unusual, Why Everyone was standing far away from the normal distance, almost twenty feet or more.

Tanaka Sensei was simply smiling.

I returned to the line with a slight limp, trying to contemplate what had just happened. Everyone was looking at me with the same expression: “Are you alright?”

And even today, still trying to figure it out.

DID I TOUCH HIM OR NOT?

 

Breaking Balance Early - Kuzushi

The unbalancing process can begin at the moment of intent, before physical contact takes place. By entering the attacker's line of sight and projecting a fast, committed movement, the thrower can cause the attacker to react, adjust, or commit even more heavily to their trajectory. In this sense, what appears to be a “no-touch throw”.

The attacker is already moving with commitment. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, the defender occupies the space into which that commitment is directed. Because two bodies cannot occupy the same space, the attacker's unconscious reflex may trigger an immediate defensive correction. When the movement is fast and the commitment is strong, that sudden reflexive adjustment can disrupt the attacker's balance and cause them to fall under their own momentum.

Standing there that day, slightly limping and surrounded by the stunned faces of everyone in the dojo, I was left with one question that has stayed with me ever since.

MY JOURNEY WITH MASTERS OF AIKI - 10

 

The Singing Sword - Listening to the Sword

Sensei Tanaka Shigeho Meiyokancho

There is a particular quality of silence inside the Shiseikan Dojo. It sits within the wooded grounds of Meiji Jingu in Tokyo, a shrine built to honour Emperor Meiji and Empress Shoken, surrounded by a forest so dense that the roar of the city disappears within a few hundred meters of the torii gate. By the time you reach the dojo itself, you have already left Tokyo behind. You have entered something older.

I was one of the Sri Lankans ever given the chance to train there. I knew that before I walked in. But did not fully understand what it meant until I was standing in front of him.

Tanaka Sensei was 9th dan, One of the very few people in the history of Aikido to hold that rank. He had trained under Morihei Ueshiba himself, the founder of the art. He had studied Kashima Shinryu swordsmanship, a tradition older than Aikido, under a master named Kuni Zen'ya. For over sixty years he had taught at Meiji Jingu and coached the Tokyo University Aikido Club.

I couldn't hide behind effort, or behind the fact that I'd travelled a long way to be there, or behind the respect I so obviously had for him. None of that meant anything to the sword in my hands. The sword doesn't care what you intend. It only shows what's actually there.

"Listen," he said.

I thought I'd misheard him. We were holding swords. assumed he meant watch , watch the angle, the line, the form. But he said it again, and this time understood he meant exactly what he said.

Not look. Listen.

A sword, cut correctly, doesn't just cut the air. It makes a sound. And if it's cut correctly, really correctly, that sound can be almost like a flute.

He showed me.

The cut doesn't begin in the arms, he said. It begins in the ground. It travels up through the legs, through the centre of the body, out through the arms, and only at the very end does it reach the sword. The sword isn't where the cut comes from. It's where the cut arrives.

And even then, there's a trap waiting. You cannot force the sound, cannot grip harder, swing faster, or strain for it. The moment to make the sound happen, you've already lost it. All you get is noise.

But if everything beneath it is done right, if the ground, the centre, the arms, all move as one, without excess, without force, without ego trying to prove something, then the sound simply arrives on its own.

Tanaka Sensei taught me many things across the time I trained under him. But that day is the one I return to, again and again, long after I left Shiseikan and long after I stopped picking up a sword at all. He taught me to listen to the sword.

Because most of life works the same way. We spend so much energy trying to force the outcome, trying to make the sound happen, when the truth is simpler and harder: get the ground right, get the centre right, let go of the effort to control the result, and the right thing arrives on its own.

IY WARRIOR – EVERYDAY WARRIOR MASTERY 3

 

Integrated Human Energy Framework

HEAL. EVOLVE. ALIGN. SHINE

Perception vs. Sight

I was unable to see anything around me, could hear the noise of the protestors, gunshots, and tear gas being fired. I couldn't open my eyes. Burning is not the right word to describe it. couldn't breathe. It felt as though my lungs were no longer functioning, choking and coughing violently.

Never been hit by tear gas before. (Later, found out that a different type of yellow smoke gas had been used, one with the ability to temporarily paralyse the lungs and completely knock you out. The usual tear gas produces white or grey smoke.)

One thing that caught my attention was how the protestors managed to wet a cloth, cover their faces, and continue advancing despite the tear gas. But the rubber bullets brought them down. The next thing that came to my mind was my team. They were all down because of the tear gas, yet somehow, they still managed to hold on to their cameras, sound equipment, and other gear.

In an instant, forcefully grabbed a water bottle and a cloth from a protestor, poured water onto the cloth and over my face, and found a few seconds of relief. My entire system was working in a way I had no control over. There were no conscious brain commands, no planned physical movements, and no extraordinary speed. Just one step at a time, in sequence, organised and flowing.

Those few seconds of relief were enough. Moved quickly, grabbing each member of the crew by the collar or any part of the body I could reach, dragging them out of what I would call the line of attack between the security forces and the raging protestors. Gave them the water bottle and wet cloth, grabbed a few more wet cloths the protestors were using, and managed to bring the team back to their senses. We moved to what seemed like a safe hiding place—a ditch by the roadside.

The funny thing was that my crew still wanted to keep filming after recovering, even though they could barely open their eyes or see anything. Their only request was, "Just hold the camera towards the scene." What a team! Anyway, we were finally out of the danger zone, hiding in a ditch.

Then, realised my co-producer was showing his media ID while moving towards the barricade, shouting, "We are journalists!" heard a gunshot, and then he was down. Luckily, it was a rubber bullet, but he was severely injured and couldn't move.  Rushed towards him.

As I picked him up, three guns were pointed directly at me. There were no emotions,just silence as we stared at each other face to face. One gun fired. My head moved, perhaps an inch, without my knowledge or control.

Whoosh...

The bullet passed close to my ear.

Continued looking directly at them. No movement. No emotion. Just looking. The guns were still pointed at me from about twenty to thirty feet away. They didn't pull the trigger again. Perhaps they realised we were not part of the protest.

Shouted, "Move out! Go to the other side of the barriers!"

I somehow managed to carry my injured co-producer while gathering the rest of the crew  made our way past the barriers.

The rest is history.

BUT... THE LESSON.

The Teahouse Master and the Samurai

A humble tea master accidentally offended a proud samurai and was challenged to a duel. Knowing he could not win, the tea master asked a swordsmanship guru for a quick lesson on how to die with dignity. The guru replied, "Hold your sword like you hold your tea whisk. Keep your mind completely focused, calm, and ready to serve."

The next day, the tea master stood before the samurai. He was completely peaceful, devoid of fear, and drew his sword with absolute precision. Seeing this perfect calm and total lack of opening, the samurai bowed, apologized, and left without striking a blow.

The Lesson: Total presence and clarity of mind crush intimidation. In a negotiation or a crisis, absolute calmness eliminates panic and forces your opponent to rethink their position.

Adopt the "Body of a Rock" (Immovable Mind)

Maintaining the exact same mindset whether you are in a life-or-death duel or sitting calmly at home. If your emotions spike, your awareness narrows, and you drop back down to Level 1.

Budo Habit: Controlled Stress Exposure

Put yourself in uncomfortable sparring positions deliberately. Practice breathing slowly and deeply under pressure to prevent your heart rate from hijacking your decision-making.

Leadership Habit: The 5-Second Pause

When hit with bad business news or a hostile confrontation, force a literal 5-second silence before responding. This prevents an emotional, defensive reaction and allows you to address the situation with objective clarity.

IY WARRIOR – EVERYDAY WARRIOR MASTERY 2

 

Integrated Human Energy Framework  

HEAL. EVOLVE. ALIGN. SHINE

Perception vs. Sight

Life creates extraordinary moments where learning is put into action.

This was after my training and learning in Aiki, and the wisdom I received from my masters, back home in Sri Lanka. I was working for an alternative visual media organisation dedicated to creating awareness about peace and reconciliation. It was neither an easy time nor an easy task. My country was going through three decades of ethnic conflict, with deep divisions and politics benefiting the most from the situation. Anyone who spoke about peace was often labelled either a traitor or a terrorist.

It was during this time that a major political protest was organised by the opposition party. The protest was strategically planned so that thousands of people would enter the capital simultaneously through several major entry points. The ruling party had prepared extensive security arrangements to prevent anyone from entering. Barricades, batons, riot police, guns, and tear gas were all in place. The media were positioned across the various entry points, ready to capture the unfolding events.

Then there was my team and me, determined to bring the uncensored reality to the people, free from political influence or any other force that sought to suppress peace.

We were there. The protesters stood behind the barricades, roaring and shouting as they demanded entry into the capital. I wondered why none of the media were on the protesters' side, interviewing them or covering their perspective. Everyone was standing safely behind the barricades alongside the security forces.

"What kind of cowards hide behind the barricades, protected by the security forces?" Those were the thoughts running through my mind, and my team felt the same.

We managed to move to the protesters' side, capturing interviews and filming from every possible angle. Suddenly, everything changed. The protesters surged forward, breaking through the barricades with overwhelming force. We were caught in the middle. We had no idea how to get out, where to move, or, most importantly, how to avoid being trampled as the crowd turned violent. Interestingly, one of our biggest concerns was not only saving ourselves but also protecting our expensive video equipment.

The next moment, the security forces reacted. Tear gas was fired, followed by riot-control guns using rubber bullets. Then came the shields, batons, and the full force of the riot police.

That was the moment.

I finally understood why all the other media crews had stayed behind the security barriers with the security forces. The only foolish and ignorant ones were my team and me, who had willingly placed ourselves in the middle of danger.

I HAD FORGOTTEN THE MOST IMPORTANT TEACHING.

"Perception vs. Sight"

To be Continued……

Master the Principle of "Perception vs. Sight"

Musashi wrote that you must make your perception (Kan) strong and your visual sight (Ken) weak.

Sight (Ken): Looking only at what is directly in front of you (the opponent's sword, or today's urgent email). It makes you reactive.

Perception (Kan): Seeing the entire environment, underlying trends, and subtle movements without staring at them directly.

Budo Habit: Peripheral Training

Practice softening your gaze during sparring. Do not look at your opponent’s fists; look at their collarbone or central axis. This allows your peripheral vision to catch any movement instantly, giving you more time to react smoothly.

Leadership Habit: Look for Root Causes

When a problem arises, do not just fix the surface issue. Look at the systemic chain reaction that allowed it to happen. Train yourself to see the "why" behind the metric, not just the metric itself.