5 Sept 2022 – Women Poets Haiku

Haiku for the Samurai Who Put Down His Brush

Seven haiku make up this set written in memorial for my long-time teacher in the martial art of Aikido, training with the katana (Samurai long sword), and the study of Buddhism, Zenko Okimura Shihan. The final three haiku appear below to complete the first four haiku, which were published last Monday. More information on Okimura Shihan and his three areas of expertise are also included there. Actually, there is a fourth expertise – master calligrapher. He may have more skills, but they remain mikkyo (secret).

In Honor of Rev. Zenko N. Okimura Shihan

Aikido Northwest Minnesota

Stenzel Sensei

One-legged crane stands still

persistence with a purpose

though winter trembles

crimson blossoms fall

brown leaves hide the reckoning

I’ll miss . . . I’ll miss . . .         . . . miss

I laugh at myself

Seventy years of pilgrimage

I put down my brush

© CatherineStenzel

Background 

For something completely different, below, I’m sharing part of a letter from me to Zenko Okimura.

In April of this year, I realized how important it is for me to be in the presence of my teacher so that I can discover more about the embodied path of Aikido.  . . . If have learned that just as being in the presence of my teacher is key to my learning, so too is my presence in our Aikido community is critical to my place in human society at large. I say this based on what happens when we make the effort to be together: something greater than ourselves emerges. 

In addition, I have learned that being “on the mat” is essential in the initial years of practice – many years – although the physical practice is important, always, as aging occurs with long years on the mat and the body requires that we (usually) have to modify our relationship with Aikido. The practice becomes integrated; it enters our essence and becomes part of our very existence.

In parallel with this discovery, I’ve been able to distinguish seeing Aikido as part of my ego identity – which it was true in the past, but now is part of my day-to-day experience. In other words, Aikido is no longer an “activity” that I “do; rather it runs smoothly through my daily energy for being in the world.  . . .

As I drove home from Minneapolis to the solitude of the far away Forests along the Manitoba border, I understood that I had just left a place where I remain “somebody.”. . . In youth, we attempt to become “somebody.”  In the later years of life, if one has gained wisdom, we intentionally become “nobody.” 

I hope to make this first letter the beginning of a series wherein I’ll tell you the stories of one old Aikidoka who has not quit.     

                                    In Gassho,                    

                                              Stenzel Sensei

Note: Shortly after I began this series of letters, Zenko and I began writing a book together. Eight years later, the book is in its final revision, and expected to be released next year. The title is Tears for the Samurai.

Exploration 1: Is Okimura’s profile (i.e., all the aspects of his life skills and work) described above and in last week’s posts believable? 

Exploration 2: Do you think Okimura is a samurai? Why or why not?

Exploration 3: If you care to, write a haiku (or other poem form) for someone you love, living or dead. We will publish any poem that fits the ethical standards of the Wannaskan Almanac.