{"id":2248,"date":"2025-07-02T19:32:14","date_gmt":"2025-07-02T10:32:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/budobooks.jp\/?p=2248"},"modified":"2025-07-02T19:51:50","modified_gmt":"2025-07-02T10:51:50","slug":"budo-beat-28-finding-your-inner-goose","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/budobooks.jp\/?p=2248","title":{"rendered":"Budo Beat 28: Finding Your Inner Goose"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The \u201cBudo Beat\u201d Blog features a collection of short reflections, musings, and anecdotes on a wide range of budo topics by Professor Alex Bennett<\/a>, a seasoned budo scholar and practitioner. Dive into digestible and diverse discussions on all things budo\u2014from the philosophy and history to the practice and culture that shape the martial Way.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kiai<\/mark><\/em> is a powerful shout used in martial arts to focus energy, boost confidence, and intimidate opponents. It\u2019s like letting out a fierce yell right as you strike or defend, helping you commit fully to the action. The kill cacophony!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Recently, at training, I got called out for being too \u201centhusiastic\u201d with my kiai<\/em>. Apparently, my excessive zeal was giving opponents no chance to approach (which means I can\u2019t lure them in) and left my own movements stiff and predictable. Besides, I was yelling so hard I almost passed out. I never would\u2019ve lived that down!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Still, this criticism came as a surprise, given how often we\u2019re usually urged to shout like we mean it, the louder the better. But it turns out kiai<\/em> isn\u2019t about volume, and my manic gusto made me sound less like a seasoned budoka and more like a bullhorn on legs. I was told I needed to graduate from this mentality to go the next step. It should be a natural progression.    <\/p>\n\n\n

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Kiai<\/em> (\u6c17\u5408), central to Japanese martial arts, originally didn\u2019t mean shouting at all. In early usage, it referred to harmony or synchronisation between people, extending later to mood or atmosphere. In modern Japan, the phrase ki ga au<\/em> (\u6c17\u304c\u5408\u3046) describes people who naturally click with each other or share good chemistry. It\u2019s often used to talk about friendships or relationships where personalities match effortlessly, making interactions comfortable and enjoyable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Also, another similar term is aiki<\/em>. Same kanji, different order, but what is the difference? Kiai (\u6c17\u5408) is basically an overt shout projecting energy outward, boosting power and intimidating opponents. In contrast, aiki (\u5408\u6c17) subtly blends one’s energy with an opponent\u2019s, harmoniously redirecting their force without direct conflict. Both involve managing \u6c17 (ki), but \u6c17\u5408 emphasizes external projection, while \u5408\u6c17 prioritizes internal harmonization.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anyway, in the context of martial arts, budo practitioners understand kiai<\/em> as the projection of energy and intent through a sharp, focused shout. But this isn\u2019t about making noise for the sake of it. Real kiai<\/em> marks a state of intense clarity, concentration, and decisiveness. But, there\u2019s certainly nothing decisive about how it has been traditionally taught.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKiai<\/em> is to grasp the wind\u2014
stand still,
and listen carefully with your nose.\u201d[1]<\/a><\/pre>\n\n\n\n
What?! Is this some cunning plan to murder comprehension entirely? Even the old masters knew explaining kiai<\/em> was about as straightforward as nailing jelly to a wall. Takano Sasabur\u014d, in his classic Kend\u014d<\/em>, confessed it was \u201ctricky to pin down.\u201d He urged practitioners to \u201cfeel it firsthand\u2026\u201d Gee, thanks sensei. Salute the budo gods, however, for some dummy-friendly poems:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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\u201cDo not ask others what kiai<\/em> is.\nInstead, seek it in the waking and sleeping,\nin the crying and laughter\nof a newborn child.\u201d[2]<\/a><\/pre>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
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In other words, true kiai<\/em> is intuitive, spontaneous, and pure; qualities embodied naturally by infants but tough for adults trained to overthink everything. Notwithstanding, allow me to plant the seeds for more overthinking. Kiai<\/em> encompasses two modes: static (sei<\/em>) and dynamic (d\u014d<\/em>). Static kiai<\/em> means absolute mental and physical readiness without visible effort\u2014no slackness allowed. The second your opponent falters, you shift gears and attack decisively. In that instant, static becomes dynamic. Both states require full mental engagement and unwavering resolve, so shouting without intention or wild physicality won\u2019t cut it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Simply put, genuine kiai<\/em> isn\u2019t about lung power, it\u2019s about gut power; it\u2019s mental warfare, spirit against spirit. You can\u2019t fake it with volume. You get there through rigorous physical training and, more importantly, relentless mental discipline.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There are a few [tall?] stories from the age of yore that come to mind about the dizzying heights of utterly seraphic kiai<\/em>. General Li Guang was a renowned Chinese military leader during the Han Dynasty, famed for his extraordinary skills in archery. According to legend, he once mistook a distant stone for a tiger and shot an arrow at it with complete determination. Remarkably, his focused intent (kiai<\/em>) was so powerful that the arrow reportedly penetrated deep into the solid rock, illustrating how unwavering belief and kiai<\/em> can transcend physical limitations. I\u2019m not sure if he shouted when he shot, the but the next guy was definitely a screamer. Mikogami Tenzen was a renowned Japanese swordsman. One famous tale describes how he demonstrated his turbocharged kiai<\/em> by shouting and literally shattering an earthenware jar without touching it. This story implies how intense mental concentration and internal energy, when fully unified, can produce seemingly supernatural physical effects.<\/p>\n\n\n
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Mikogami Tenzen (Ono Tadaaki, b. 1565? – 1628) \u2013 renowned swordsman, founder of Ono-ha Itt\u014d-ry\u016b, and direct student of legendary It\u014d Itt\u014dsai; influential kenjutsu instructor to Tokugawa shoguns Hidetada and Iemitsu.<\/em> And, not a good guy to have in your ceramics boutique.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
Now, back to that \u201cnatural progression\u201d thing. Once you\u2019re proficient in technique and matured spiritually, internalising your courage becomes critical. Rather than shouting it out, you quietly accumulate power. This advanced stage, known as \u201csilent (musei<\/em>) kiai<\/em>\u201d, eliminating needless noise and turning you into an intimidatingly calm presence. It won\u2019t smash earthenware jars, but your opponent will wilt under the pressure. As the budoka gets older, it seems that kiai gets quieter, but more potent at the same time. That\u2019s because it\u2019s not the voice that matters as much as the voice behind the voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Which reminds me of a related concept: kakegoe<\/mark><\/em> <\/strong>(\u639b\u3051\u58f0) in budo is a short vocal shout or call used during martial arts training or matches. Slightly different from kiai<\/em><\/strong>, which is typically a powerful, spirit-focused projection intended to intimidate or disrupt an opponent, kakegoe<\/em><\/strong> serves more as a rhythmic shout or cue. According to the AJKF\u2019s dictionary of kendo terms, the two concepts are described in the following way:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kake-goe (n.)<\/strong> A natural vocalisation which shows that one is full of spirit and prepared mentally and physically.<\/em><\/pre>\n\n\n\n
Kiai (n.)<\/strong> The act of concentrating on the opponent\u2019s moves and on one\u2019s planned moves and mounting a challenge with extreme caution. Also, it refers to the vocalisations one produces when in such a state of mind.<\/em><\/pre>\n\n\n\n
So, there are differences in nuance, but the terms are, rightly or wrongly, often used interchangeably. The easiest way to make a distinction is that kakegoe<\/em> are always vocal. Kiai<\/em> can be expressed both vocally and silently. In many way\u2019s kakegoe<\/em> represents a kind of verbal communication; a greeting that demands a response. Traditional forms in swordsmanship, for example, often use three distinct kakekgoe<\/em> shouts: \u201cY\u0101\u201d signals readiness; \u201cEi\u201d accompanies decisive attack; \u201cT\u014d\u201d marks defence or counters. These remain central in kata<\/em> practice, while in modern kendo matches practitioners typically \u201cgreet\u201d each other first with an almighty yell, then shout the targeted area, like \u201cmen<\/em>\u201d or \u201ckote<\/em>\u201d as they strike. (Not beforehand, because that would kind of give the game away!) That\u2019s why kendo is usually a lot louder and \u201cvociferous\u201d than other budo disciplines. Having said that, some of the colourful \u201csports karate\u201d that assaults my eyeballs on my Facebook feed these days has taken raucous howling to a truly ear-splitting new level.<\/p>\n\n\n\n