Martial Heart

Last Saturday, I woke up to the very call nobody should ever wake up to. You may have heard by now, but if you haven’t, we have lost one of our own – Mark Hodel passed away last Friday from a heart attack. He was 57. He is survived by his sisters Anne and Page and his son Andrew.

Mark was one of the first, a pioneer of the Bujinkan in America. As one of its “Founding Fathers,” Mark was the 5th American to take the Godan test, co-sponsored the first American Tai Kai, and completed some 40-plus years of martial arts training. A lifelong student, he also mentored those who asked (and some who didn’t) and watched over plenty of folks along the way, opening not just his home for training, but also his heart.                                                       

I first met Mark in 1999 and enjoyed a strong friendship with him ever since. He arrived with Jack Hoban, hosting the first Buyu seminar in the Midwest, or perhaps it was one of the first. There were like, eight of us there or something - it was very small. Mark introduced himself to me with a smile and a firm handshake, “Welcome,” he said. He was friendly, accommodating, and kind. He remained that way all of the years I knew him.

Mark recommended I teach at the second Buyu Camp I attended some years ago – a step into a larger world I might not have taken on my own. But that was Mark for you – he pushed me, mentoring with the confidence he would freely give away, recognizing and handing our own potential back to us saying, ‘keep going,’ (you’re almost there).

Training is a very personal thing. There is and probably will always be much debate as to its efficacy and essentialness – is it just a hobby sharing time with model shipbuilding and tennis? Or is it something more, something deeper, spiritual even? How we choose to answer that is incumbent on our perspective, the perceptivity of our training experience, and what it means to us in the big picture. I don’t go to church, I no longer practice my Catholic faith, I still respect it and believe in a higher power, in my own personal way. But for me, I train. Training answers for me the great moral questions, it directs my thoughts and actions and shapes my character; I believe in its law, a naturalness to understanding justice and what is right and wrong in the world around me.

Mark did too. He knew the importance of it, the weight and burden of it, so never questioned why, he just accepted, until such time he could understand things more fully, embracing the change, his evolution in thought. He was smart that way, patient, fervently loyal to training’s long-term goal, while prioritizing his life among his loved ones and friends. I will miss my friend Mark as will the thousands of other people around the world whose lives he touched.

Attached are 10 questions I sent Mark in 2002. He sent his answers back to me right away, as I recall, and I am so thankful he did. It is an amazing read - in his voice – and displays the quiet brilliance of Mark’s understanding of Budo. Some can train martial arts the whole of their lives and never realize the subtle shades Mark knew intrinsically, the nuances that provide that last piece of the puzzle, giving us clarity to navigate in a sometimes brutal world. Mark knew these truths simply, like he knew his name, like he knew the sun would rise tomorrow. His words, just like he did in life, shine a light on the path so the rest of us can find our way.

The life we lead is also the imprint we leave behind, the track others can see and sense and follow. The imprint Mark left was as a minder of the path, a guardian on it, standing sometimes on its sidelines just to make sure others were not getting lost, or confused, or standing still. And in those cases, he would reach out, offering us a necessary hand, righting our balance, until such time we needed to be righted again. And he would be there, again. This was Mark’s Taijutsu - his life’s last and greatest lesson - that inspired us and led us by example.

If you knew Mark, please keep him and his family in your thoughts. If you didn’t, please say a prayer for him, and one as well for yourself, that you might know someone someday, an expert in martial heart like Mark Hodel.

~James

10 Questions with Mark Hodel, 2002

What is your personal martial art biography?

I became interested in martial arts in the early 60’s. I started Judo when I was 11, and got my green belt in December 1964. I continued with Judo and Jujitsu (Kodenkan Style, Prof. Wally Jay, Alameda Jujitsu Club, Del Esposti, Marin School of Self Defense) and got a brown belt when I was 15.

When I was 16, I could finally attend the Karate class that I only could watch until that time. I became a martial art nut. I still have boxes of old Black Belt Magazines, including the December 1966 issue that introduced ninja to America and the February 1967 issue that introduced us to Hatsumi-Sensei: “A little more than an hours train ride from Tokyo in drowsy Noda City along the back waters of Chiba peninsula lives one of the more interesting men of Japan today. He is Yoshiaki Hatsumi, a modern day ninja…”

I think I may have been one of the first people to buy the Andy Adams book in March of 1970. I read it over and over, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would ever meet Hatsumi Sensei face-to-face.

I got my Black Belt in Shotokan Karate from one of Richard Kim’s (SFO YMCA) Black Belt Instructors, Gene Orlando, in September 1971. When I was in college in Santa Barbara, California, I trained with Bill Berk a student of Hidetaka Nishiyama (AAKF) in Shotokan Karate including attending tournaments and camps and going to LA to train with Nishiyama-Sensei.

I took several years off then moved to Stockton, California (1978), and trained for three years in Karate and Jujitsu with a student of Prof. Wally Jay and Coach Willy Cahill, named Art Diocson. I also trained simultaneously with Stockton based Filipino martial art masters: Gilbert Tenio, John Eliab, Leo Giron, Angel Cabales, and Dentoy Revilar.

I bought the first Stephen K. Hayes book in 1980 and became interested in Ninjutsu again. I saw a seminar in Black Belt Magazine that he was giving in October 1981 in Seattle, Washington, and went to check it out. His partner and Uke for the seminar was a wiry, crew cut Marine officer named Jack Hoban.

I started going to seminars in Ohio with Stephen K. Hayes and went with him on the 1983 Ninja Tour of Japan where I met Hatsumi Sensei and the Shihan: Ishizuka, Nagato, Kan, Saito, Kobayashi, Oguri, Nogouchi, Shiraishi, Seno, and others.

Stephen K. Hayes recommended that I train with Jack Hoban who was closer to me than Ohio, in San Diego, and introduced us. I started going down to his monthly seminars, given in a Quonset hut on the Marine base by the San Diego airport.

I invited him to come to Stockton and give a seminar for my little training group in January, 1984 - he did and that was the beginning of the Stockton Bujinkan Dojo. The picture of that first Jack Hoban seminar includes California students who are still active, Richard Van Donk, Mark O’brien, Bill Atkins, Dale Seago, Dave Furukawa, Miki Fujitsubo, and others.

In 1985, Jack Hoban and I started the Warrior Information Network, at that time a newsletter with training information. It has evolved into the WIN website on the internet: http://www.winjutsu.com/.

I have been active in the Bujinkan Dojo, co-sponsoring 5 Tai Kai’s, Sensei’s two newsletters, Tetsuzan and Sanmyaku, seminars, and camps and I have been to Japan to train 16 times. I passed the Godan test on December 4, 1989 (I was the fifth American). I have also enjoyed the international expansion of the Bujinkan and have attended Tai Kai’s in Sweden, England, and Israel

I now train weekly in Southeast Wisconsin, monthly with a group of independent instructors from around Wisconsin and Illinois, yearly at the Tai Kai, USA. I also co-sponsor the BuYu Camp in June in San Francisco and I go to Japan with a group of students every December for the Daikomyosai training.

What are the biggest differences in training today than when you first began in the Bujinkan?

The biggest change is the sheer volume of information available to the student. There are numerous books, videos, websites, newsletters and magazines that didn’t exist in the early 80’s. The second difference is the number of training opportunies available in dojos, seminars and qualified instructors usually no more than a couple of hours drive for most students. There is also a twenty year history of practice in America to look back on as part of the learning process.

Why do we train the way we do, e.g. yearly themes, yearly weapons?

This question begs the answer: because Hatsumi-Sensei told us to do it this way.

It may seem strange that he teaches “no technique” and then directs us to train within a defined structure, but I don’t think it is, even if it is frustrating to the student*. I think that Sensei is talking about an end - no technique - and a means to that end - the lesson in the waza.

I believe that all the lessons of Ninjutsu are coded in a three dimensional language called taijutsu, but that their meaning - the waza’s essence - is different, or changes, for the student as a he or she progresses in skill level. So we need to revisit the ryu and the waza over the course of our lives, over and over again probably, to apply the lessons to our current training level or awareness.

I also think he is giving us something constructive to do so that we don’t get cocky and start making stuff up - do the technique wrong well.

At the first Tai Kai in Yuma Mura, Japan, in October 1983, at a question and answer session, someone asked Sensei what he - the student - should do to become Soke. The translator said that the student should do his movements in front of a mirror, and when he moved like Soke, he could be the Soke.

What at first seemed to me, in translation, to be a flippant answer to a stupid, insulting question later made more sense to me. He gives us dozens of waza, hundreds of variations, weird concepts like snow falling off trees, dropping devils, and imperial palanquins and says do all this stuff, it will take years, if most of it sticks, you will be OK.

*At the BuYu Camp 2000, Julio Toribio told us this story: when training in Japan, Sensei watched his technique and said, “No power!” Julio asked, “Sensei, if I have no power, how can I do the technique?” Sensei replied, “No technique!” Julio then exclaimed, “But, Sensei if I have no technique, how can I do the exercise?” Sensei smiled and said, “Keep Going!” and walked away.

What aspects of training should budoka concentrate on?

Their health, family life, personal economics, then balance training activities. Don’t think about it too much, just do it.

Is there a secret to training?

Well, if there is a secret, it is still a secret to me (laugh)! If you are asking is there a simple top priority, I would say that it is to train with Hatsumi Sensei directly, or if that is not practical, train with people who believe that that is the top priority.

What is the best way I can improve my training?

Keep going.

Given the new climate of the world stage, what are our roles as budoka?

While sometimes warfare is a zero sum adventure, I believe that Ninjutsu in application is not. Any situation should be managed so that there is no bad after affect if possible. I would say the worst after affects are the consequences of death, hatred, and revenge. Sometimes good people have to do bad things, but it must never be their choice to do them, it must always be a last resort and without alternative.

The ironic thing about martial art training is that you practice with some of your best friends to apply to your worst enemies. The chilling reality of a real enemy is not usually part of the student’s life experience.

Sadly, evil is on the move in the world now and the chance that we will have to apply our training against real enemies is much greater after 9-11-01.

However, maybe that (applying our training) is our minor role. Our major role may be to remind those that we protect and defend, and each other, that our enemies are not animals, and while some will have to be killed, it is because they force us, and if we live, we will have to share the world with the rest when the war is over so we have to relate to them as fellow human beings, and get them to do the same. (www.lifevalues.com)

At the Daikomyosai training in 2001, Hatsumi-Sensei told us that we must prepare to deal with real enemies at their level, but without the hatred (my paraphrase of the translator).

“…The ninja’s duty is to be enlightened in the laws of humanity. There should be no fighting that does not follow these rules. Therefore, the enemy who stands against the laws of nature has lost his battle before he begins the fight. The first priority to the ninja was to win without fighting, that remains the way.” (Takamatsu-Sensei in an interview by Hatsumi-Sensei in his book “Essence of Ninjutsu”, page 23.)

If you could contribute one thing to the Bujinkan “Book of Knowledge” what would it be?

One thing? Well, I suppose it would be three admonitions.

The first is that simulating violence and talking about it in training is not the same as experiencing it. (It is easy to say “cut here” it is not easy to cut “here.”)

The second would be that the budoka treat his or her skills like a sacred trust, be careful when you apply them and to whom you teach them.

The third admonition is that the student must realize that when you apply your skills on a real enemy, your life will be changed.

How do you overcome problems with training or other budoka?

I am not sure I understand this question. I suppose the biggest problem students have is the money and time commitment required for training, so I would say that you must balance your economic life, personal life and training life because they are interactive whether you like it or not.

Regarding problems with other budoka, I really haven’t had any that I can recall. I suppose that if I did I would just avoid them, if they damaged me in some way, the legal system both criminal and civil exists to compensate that damage. This is not wild west any more, after all.

What is the future of the Bujinkan?

I wish I could predict the future! Well, from what I have observed, the Bujinkan Dojo is an expanding worldwide phenomena and I suppose that there will be thousands of little training groups all over the world that think and act local, but get together to share technology with each other periodically and remain linked by their common practice. Imagine a world filled with physical/moral, defender/protectors. Imagine communities where it is not safe to be a bad guy (laugh)!

Do you have any special plans for your own training in the future?

Like all students, I struggle with the “big picture” since the body of knowledge (physical skill knowledge) in the Bujinkan Dojo is huge. Some day I would like to be able to say that I understand it all, but I don’t worry about it, in the mean time I will just keep going.

Walking the "Plank"

He was just lying there, but his dazed look invited others to inquire – in my neighborhood that was a concern. He wasn’t dead, but he was out of it and needed help. I suspected he’d been drinking and in a rambling slur he acknowledged such. I didn’t want to leave someone who couldn’t take care of themselves - he could be dying from some drug cocktail coursing through him for all I knew. And if I had left him, he could be mugged, beat up, or worse. So I called 911.

Perhaps my experience at the inaugural RGI Conflict Resolution Course the prior September weekend instilled in me a sense of ownership for this moment. I couldn’t help being inspired, the lineup of instructors was impressive: James Shanahan, 30-year veteran of the NYPD – a legend; Joe “Marine” Shusko, 30-year veteran of the Marine Corps and director of the Corps’ Martial Arts Center for Excellence in Quantico, Virginia – another legend; Officer Artie Mark, NYPD, the epitome of the ‘street-smart cop;’ Gary Klugiewicz, 25-year veteran of the Milwaukee Sheriff’s Department and president of “Verbal Judo.” The list goes on with agents from the FBI, US Marshals Service, and other professionals from the civilian sector. And leading this mighty pack of sheepdogs was none other than Jack Hoban.

In attendance were Law Enforcement, Marines, servicemen, teachers, and civilians, all of us looking for answers to resolve conflict, reduce tensions, and make the world just a little bit safer. The impact of the training was to do just that. From learning how to communicate effectively, to street smarts, to physical skills, to teambuilding, to philosophy, to a morning PT session right on the Jersey shore, all of the training, lectures, stories, and anecdotes were geared toward activating the inner ‘Ethical Warrior.’

The root of all conflict is disrespect and often leads to the dehumanization of one’s enemy, further obscuring the moral high ground. Cicero said, “Whom they fear, they hate,” and it is as true today as it was in Roman times. By dehumanizing the enemy and reducing their lives to subhuman stature, it makes it easier to do the rough stuff, the violence, the killing. So, activating respect for the lives of others and ourselves is the surest means to resolve conflict, while at the same time creates a powerfully strong, tactical advantage.

Joe Shusko recounted the story of his own son, a Marine stationed in Iraq, when he took charge of a unit responsible for finding caches of illegal weapons. SOP was to kick in the doors of villagers, swarm in guns up, and interrogate the homeowners. Not only were they not finding any weapons, they were still being attacked, and weren’t receiving any information from villagers. Upon taking over, Shusko’s son made a command decision – stop kicking in doors and interrogating, start knocking on doors and asking politely. Within one week of the change, they were inundated with information and were led to various caches and insurgents that could have harmed or killed innocent civilians and fellow Marines.

So, after watching over my inebriated friend, imagine my relief when a Chicago Police cruiser rolled up to help him. I approached the officers – a young blond female, and an older male – and gave them the story, even telling them his name was Dean (I had gotten that much out of him).

They were silent, walked right past, without even looking at or acknowledging me. They ambled over to Dean who was lying on the sidewalk and the blond yelled, “Get up! You’re drunk! This is ridiculous!” The male poured a bottle of water on him. Dean jackknifed up. I turned and walked home.

Shanahan had said over his long career he had known cops who could talk a rabid dog off a meat truck and others who could show up at the scene of the Nativity and crack skulls. A few days later, I recalled my encounter to Jack. He asked rhetorically, “Think they’re happy acting that way?”