ornoth | Sterling Archer

Cambridge Massachusetts, February 23, 2014: I grab a Japanese bow, walk to within two meters of a target, and inexpertly bury two arrows into it. Thus began my excursion into the meditative / martial art of kyūdō. There’s some background info on kyūdō and my “First Shot” ceremony in this blogpo.

However, 18 months later, I moved to Pittsburgh, where the lack of a kyūdō group forced me to step away from the practice. Seven years passed.

When Inna and I were recently evaluating cities to move to, kyūdō was an important consideration for me, and I checked out the local groups when we visited Raleigh/Durham, Denver/Boulder, and Austin. So when we finally moved to Austin, one of my first stops was Austin Kyūdō.

My Second First Shot

In Japan, there are several schools of kyūdō, each with their own slight differences in philosophy, terminology, and technique. Of those, there are only two that are active in the United States. There’s the All Nippon Kyūdō Federation, which I’ll shorten to ANKF, that came out of a postwar attempt to unify all the diverse styles into one common form. That’s what’s typically taught as an activity in Japanese high schools. The other presence in the US is the Heki-Ryu Bishu Chikurin-ha school, which I’ll call Zenko, which is one of those older schools, traditionally headed by the Shibata family of bowmakers to the Japanese nobility, and which was supported somewhat by the Shambhala organization.

Sadly, there’s some rivalry and mutual condescension between these two schools. While that might make more sense back in Japan, it seems pretty counterproductive here in the US, where the differences seem trivial and – since neither has much of a following – a spirit of mutual cooperation would benefit everyone.

All this pertains to me because my practice at Byakko Kyudojo back in Boston was in the Zenko style, but Austin Kyūdō is affiliated with the ANKF. So I’m effectively switching schools and starting over. While there is a Zenko group in Houston with occasional practices in Austin (Emiko Kyudojo), it makes sense for me to get back into kyūdō with the more active local group and consider returning to the Zenko fold after developing a greater level of proficiency.

From the perspective of an American and a novice, the differences between ANKF and Zenko are few, but worth enumerating. Philosophically, Zenko is more focused on the internal, meditative aspect of archery (which appeals to me), and seems more focused on individual practice rather than coordinated group shooting. And – being run by a family of traditional bowmakers – Zenko requires practitioners to use bamboo bows, whereas ANKF is happy to use composite bows that are cheaper, more forgiving, and require less care. ANKF has also added formal ranks, requiring written exams and shooting demonstrations to advance in levels.

With that as background… After arriving in Austin, I learned that Austin Kyūdō was holding a six-week beginners’ course. Between a seven year layoff and joining a different school, that “starting over” route made sense for me. I joined two other newbs for their training series, which culminated on Saturday April 1th with our “First Shot” rite… Which was actually my second First Shot ceremony, having been through Zenko’s equivalent back in 2014, as described up top.

While it’s wonderful being a full-fledged kyudoka again, I’m far from satisfied with my first shot. While passable, my form wasn’t up to my own expectations, so I have plenty of “stuff” to work on.

But I was also put off because my hands are too large for any of the group’s dojo-owned gloves for students. In addition to a bow and arrows, a kyūdō-specific glove is an absolutely essential piece of equipment, since it is the glove that actually holds the bowstring when it is drawn. For my first shot, I wound up borrowing another student’s brand-new glove, and the bow just wasn’t cooperating with it.

While I always intended to send away to Japan and invest in my own custom-made glove, the lack of a dojo glove to practice with has made that purchase a pressing need. The fabrication and shipping will take 2-3 months, during which I really can’t do any shooting, either at distance or at a close-range practice target, as in the photo above.

Despite that frustrating delay, there’s still a lot I can work on in the meantime, so that when my glove arrives I can dive back into practice with diligence, energy, and more confidence in my form.