I realize I’ve been writing about myself too much lately.

Honestly, it’s mostly because whenever I try to write about someone else, I can never know for sure if I'm being truthful or not.

When I attempt to characterize other people—especially those I’ve never known—I can only rely on secondhand, often contradictory, sources.

The challenge lies in navigating discrepancies, weighing the credibility of different narratives, and ultimately sculpting a portrait that acknowledges the ambiguity inherent in depending on information passed along linguistically.

I don’t have time for all that. I’m not a historian. I’m not a scholar. I’m a beat born out of time. An amateur prose poet who fell in love with Aikido.

When I write about myself—especially with the caveat that I’m gonna have to be reading it out loud, recording it, and (self) publishing it—I’m obligated to stay true… to something… still not sure what that is…

(Could it really be a genie?)

Early on in this project, I was writing about O Sensei much more, doing my utmost to portray him as a shaman of sorts. A figure of profound spiritual depth. But what kept happening was: me getting into arguments online with people eager to disparage him for one reason or another.

My opinion of O Sensei’s life and character is largely drawn from what I've read, and I acknowledge the various viewpoints and agendas in circulation.

What I truly admire about him is his struggle, his overcoming of societal and personal catastrophes to create something of tremendous value for the soul of humanity. To forge a psychically therapeutic exercise from a deadly martial art is no small feat. He was not perfect, but from the crucible of his own struggles, he gifted us Aikido.

Last week, I made up my own jo kata.

Is that arrogant?

On one hand, I’m genuinely proud of it—it's a lot of fun, covers many angles, results in a dynamic and engaging interplay of forces… But, then again, who am I to make up my own jo kata? I’m no Shihan.

It was a quiet, muggy Thursday night. I was covering for another teacher, and with a popular seminar happening that week up in Maine, attendance was sparse. Even more so than can be blamed on the typical late summer ebb.

I spent the first 45 minutes of class by myself, thinking no one was gonna show up. I started playing around with a jo.

A little too depressed by the bleak reality of an empty dojo to practice guided numerically by rote and repetition, I staved off the gloom by setting myself the task of constructing a new kata that would enable me to practice as many variations of strikes and parries as possible and—at the end—switch to the opposite side, satisfying my obsession with becoming ambidextrous.

I was almost finished working out the uke role when a relatively new, but contagiously enthusiastic member walked in smiling, happy to be at the dojo after a stressful day of work. He quickly changed and joined me on the mat.

Still in the throes of creation, I asked for his help. We spent a good bit of time working through it and got to the point where I’d at least be able to remember the sequence.

The next night, I found myself in a similar situation—two of us at the dojo, this time, someone else leading class. When he suggested weapons practice, mostly to solidify my own memory of it, I offered to show him my new jo kata.

I’m at a dojo that has a very strong weapons curriculum. ASU, Saotome Sensei—we have plenty of bokken and jo kata to keep us busy. There’s more than enough material to inspire a deep, endless study of timing and motion.

What possesses me to make up my own jo kata? And then, in another unabashed me-centric display, write about it? Especially after starting this episode off by saying that I’ve been writing about myself too much lately.

I’m almost exactly half embarrassed / half proud…

I mean, about everything in my life, not just the jo kata.

Hopefully that’s the right ratio for becoming a Substack superstar. Though, taking popular political trends into consideration, I’d imagine a more obtuse polarity would appeal to ‘one half or the other’.

The center seems to occupy a non-existent space…

I’m gonna try to work that into my kata.

At least I got to sneak in some O Sensei adulation.

Let’s see if it passes the social media sensors.

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