{"id":2679,"date":"2025-11-27T14:59:42","date_gmt":"2025-11-27T05:59:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/budobooks.jp\/?p=2679"},"modified":"2025-11-28T02:24:20","modified_gmt":"2025-11-27T17:24:20","slug":"budo-beat-44-fukaku-and-the-big-8","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/budobooks.jp\/?p=2679","title":{"rendered":"Budo Beat 44: F\u016bkaku and the \u201cBig 8\u201d"},"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 <\/em>Alex Bennett<\/em><\/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

The late, great Inoue Yoshihiko\u2011sensei (Hanshi 8th<\/sup> Dan). Years ago, when he came to New Zealand for a seminar, we checked him into his hotel after a long flight. Nothing dramatic happened. He just walked in and headed to his room with that quiet, unmistakable Inoue\u2011sensei swagger. A few minutes later the hotel porter marched back over to us, eyes wide, and said, \u201cWho the hell was<\/em> that?\u201d We asked why. He leaned in and whispered, \u201cThere\u2019s just something\u2026 really freakily cool about that dude. What is he, some kind of\u2026 priest?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We could only laugh. \u201cKind of, mate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n

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Inoue Yoshihiko-sensei (1928\u20132015), Kendo Hanshi 8-dan, was the preeminent expert of the All-Japan Kendo Federation\u2019s Nihon Kendo Kata and an influential teacher whose insights shaped generations of instructors and practitioners in Japan and internationally.<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

That, right there, is f\u016bkaku<\/em>. He didn\u2019t have to swing a sword or say a word. He just walked past the reception desk and the bloke in charge of luggage starts questioning the nature of existence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is one of the great paradoxes of f\u016bkaku<\/em>. The deeper it is, the less a person has to show. Beginners show everything, even the things they are desperately trying to hide. Intermediate practitioners learn to hide a few things and show others. But senior practitioners reach a point where there is nothing left to hide or show. They simply exist in their kendo (or other budo). The performance disappears, and what remains is the natural way their body and mind move together. Nothing fancy or particularly mysterious. Just a kind of honest, balanced movement shaped by years of practice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Looking across the generations of great teachers I\u2019ve encountered, the ones who left the strongest impressions on me had very different physical styles, but all possessed unmistakable \u201cf\u016bkaku<\/em>\u201d. Some were big buggers, some little old ladies. Some explosive, others impossibly still. Some would overwhelm you with ki<\/em> before you even stepped into range. Others would barely move, yet somehow you felt everything collapsing around you as you tried to approach. What united them was not what they did, but what they no longer needed to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Budo has many words that sit just beyond easy translation. I think f\u016bkaku<\/em> (\u98a8\u683c) is one of these elusive terms. Literally, it combines \u201cwind\u201d (\u98a8), meaning in this context atmosphere, breath, or the felt quality of something, with \u201cform\/frame\u201d (\u683c), meaning the structure or inherent character that gives something its proper shape. It seems simple enough. \u201cStyle\u201d, \u201cdignity\u201d, \u201cbearing\u201d, \u201cpresence\u201d… But as anyone who has spent time inside a dojo knows, none of these English equivalents quite grasp what f\u016bkaku<\/em> actually feels like when you sense it emanating from someone before a technique has even begun to take shape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve been thinking a lot about f\u016bkaku<\/em> for the past few days after my recent 8th Dan examination. I didn\u2019t pass, which is no surprise to anyone who knows how brutally high the bar sits for that level! As usual, less than 1% pass rate… Anyway, one of the examiners pulled me aside after it had all finished and said, \u201cAlex-kun, you looked really good out there mate! And you had genuine f\u016bkaku <\/em>going on…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n

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The journey continues. Two minutes x 2 to show my stuff in the first round of the examination.<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

In the middle of the emotional muddle that always follows these examinations, that comment landed in an interesting place. Encouraging? Yeah. Humbling? Yeah, I guess. Still not enough to pass, though! But it pushed me into a long reflection about what f\u016bkaku<\/em> really means, why it matters. Am I on the right path?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anyone can pretty much recognise a sharp men<\/em>, a clean kote<\/em>, or a precisely placed tsuki<\/em> even after only a few months of practice. But f\u016bkaku<\/em> is something very different. It rests in the shape of the person, not the technique. It is the quality that remains after all the unnecessary motion has been stripped away, leaving only essential form supported by years of discipline, failure (and yet more failure), stubbornness, introspection, and the slow forging of spirit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is tempting to think that f\u016bkaku<\/em> arrives at a certain dan grade, as if the number creates the person. But the reality is almost the opposite. People who exude f\u016bkaku<\/em> are the ones who make their dan<\/em> grades look insufficient. Their presence overshadows the certificate hanging on the wall. When they stand ready, even before they bow, there is an unmistakable feeling that something is different. They are not imposing themselves and they are not trying to intimidate. They are simply there, completely, without hesitation or pretence. That completeness, I think, is the essence of f\u016bkaku<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n

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One way I\u2019ve had f\u016bkaku<\/em> explained to me is to \u201cthe feeling of watching an expert calligrapher pick up the brush\u201d. Before a single stroke is made, the whole room feels different. The brush, the ink, and the paper have not changed. What has changed is the atmosphere generated by the practitioner\u2019s accumulated depth. Budo has the same quality. Before any cut or thrust is made, the state of the person determines the state of the encounter. Someone with f\u016bkaku<\/em> creates a kind of silent order. It\u2019s as if their movements are calm without being passive, sharp without being frantic, and powerful without relying on force. Everything appears simple, but that simplicity has taken decades to construct.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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