Okinawan Karate: Going Back to Being a Beginner…

Later this year, I am hoping to travel to Okinawa — the birthplace of karate – around the month where OKINAWA celebrates KARATE DAY on the 25th each year – and KARATE was born in 1936 and has transcended many countries – and evolved.

My interest in Okinawa originally came, unapologetically, through The Karate Kid films. But the more I have researched the island, the more interested I have become in the real culture behind Okinawan karate: its traditions, its emphasis on fundamentals and, particularly, its attitude towards respect.

In the UK, my sport is snooker.

I’ve been fortunate enough to become a league champion, a doubles finalist and a team cup finalist.

But the moment I walk into an authentic Okinawan karate dojo, those achievements won’t necessarily mean a lot.

I’ll be a complete beginner in OKINAWAN KARATE. Although I have been following some of the basic moves as seen in this instructional video by a TEACHER that you can do at home.

And that’s precisely why I want to do it.

I’m hoping to attend perhaps three karate or KATA sessions during my stay. I don’t expect to return from Okinawa knowing karate. That isn’t the point.

I want to observe.

I want to learn how a traditional dojo operates. How does a beginner enter that environment? What etiquette is expected? How important are the fundamentals? How does an experienced practitioner treat someone who knows virtually nothing? What does respect actually mean inside the dojo?

I’ve watched videos of Okinawan karate practitioners continuing to train and teach well into later life. That has also made me interested in karate as something beyond competition — a practice involving movement, purpose, discipline and continued learning. It’s not all about competition.

And perhaps there are lessons there for my own sport.

A British snooker club and an Okinawan karate dojo are very different environments. I’m not travelling to Okinawa with the assumption that one culture is superior to the other.

I’m going there to listen, observe, and learn.

Perhaps I’ll discover that some of my assumptions about Okinawan karate are wrong.

That’s part of the experience too.

But there is something appealing about temporarily leaving behind a sport in which I have a lot of experience and walking into another sporting environment where I have none.

No titles.

No finals.

No experience.

Just a beginner standing in a dojo, ready to learn the fundamentals.

And perhaps sometimes, to learn something new about the sport you know, you have to become a beginner at one you don’t.