First—five syllables Then seven, and five again What's a syllable? |
Back to the basics White belts in January Devoid of color |
January first Reflection and renewal Where is your white belt? |
Crisp and fresh new start To wash and strip down to white Renew and review |
A bow at the door Leaves the ordinary there Be present here now |
Check out the haiku We all have so much to say Or nothing at all |
Slate and faun and black Colors of the dojo, warm Invite your stillness |
A bow to begin Dancing feet along the floor A last look to end |
The first level is white How long until next level? When you are ready |
So the more I know The more I know I don't know Just keep practicing |
Keep the fancy belt I just need space on the floor For me to grow more |
Orange, red, or black The belt color matters not Practice is the key |
Mistakes are needed You won't learn from perfection So make a mistake |
My zenkutsudachi My leg is straight like a hard board It is very good |
In the wintertime Nature slows and looks within Onegaishimas |
Coveting next belt? Focus not on flimsy cloth Kihon, waza—Ossu! |
Enter the dojo Recommit to your journey Swallow the ego |
Always on the path Where will mastery appear? Embrace shugyo |
Here for the journey Not yearning for accolades But centering soul |
Five key principles Bring light to the soul's winter Dojo is a home |
Politics resumes Karate alternative Budo is healthcare |
Simplicity is The breath moving in and out Sitting practice is |
Giving and receiving Breathing in meets breathing out Winter becomes spring |
Ichi, ni, san, shi Kiai with this constant beat Brings focus and strength |
Eastern and western Which will win my heart and mind? More ego nonsense |
What is mokuso? Karate meditation Keep your brain on it |
Esparíamos Lo que calma, enseña Persevéramos |
Thinking in reverse each day a new beginning The karatedo |
Seeking clarity To empty the self of mind To obtain budo |
Waiting for daughter Silently in the dojo Who's cleaning the floors |
My heiko dachi Feet grip like roots in the ground I hope there's no wind |
Back in the Dojo The holiday fun is done My legs are lead—Ugh! |
Dojo tea party Did you bring an empty cup? If not empty it |
Kihon kata san Finding my feet, legs, and ground Will it ever end? |
January's cold Inspires many haiku As can be seen here |
Noise from the sidewalk Filters through the dojo doors Punctuates our work |