Taki: The morality of karate

 Thun

‘Mokusoo!’ All 200 of us already on our knees and sitting on our heels in the Japanese ‘seiza’ position remain dead silent at the command. No loud breathing, no movement whatsoever, just ‘mizu no kokoro’, a calm mind, like the surface of undisturbed water. ‘Kaimoku’, the next command, signals the end of inner contemplation, followed by ‘Shomini rey’, where we all touch our foreheads to the ground saluting the father of karate. ‘Sensei ni rey’, is the last command uttered by the senior karateka, which happens to be me, saluting the instructors. Then it’s time for ‘tsuki no kokoro’, a mind like the moon, that refers to the need to be constantly aware of the opponent’s movements, just as moonlight shines equally on everything within its range. In 48 years of practising karate I don’t think I’ve had a more satisfying week. There were none of those freaks covered in tattoos, muscle-bound, hairless-pated hominids attuned to their inner ape that pass as tough guys on TV and the so-called ultimate fighting.