The Person At The Gate

There is a Japanese term used in martial arts to describe a new student, someone who is just beginning in their interest. The term is monjin and the two characters used to write the term translate as 'person at the gate'. I like this term as I think it is quite evocative of the feeling one experiences when one starts any new activity, particularly an activity that puts you in new surroundings. Sometimes when I am talking to people the subject of sports and hobbies comes up. When I mention that I am a fencing instructor one of the most common questions (apart from jokes about fences) is "How did you get into that then?" I usually reply with "A chap at work was doing it and I asked if I could have a go. Seemed like an interesting idea at the time." This is essentially how I started out; a chance conversation one lunchtime with a work colleague who has long given up the sport. But is there anything more to it than that? Looking back, I seem to have always been interested in the more old fashioned and romantic side of the world of swordplay and knights of old etc. It's also fair to say I never really enjoyed playing any of the conventional sports at school so when the slightly eccentric and traditional sport of fencing hove into view I thought I'd give it a go. If someone had said I'd still be doing it nearly twenty years later and would be a qualified coach I would probably have been a bit sceptical. Let alone that I'd be writing down and sharing my (somewhat unconventional) thoughts with a (slightly) wider audience! Nevertheless, something about fencing got hold of me and never let go. Obviously I have my own coach to thank for that in the sense that he gave me plenty of encouragement and became a friend as well as a coach but it also just seemed to suit me. I liked the etiquette, the physical and later the mental challenges that the sport creates and over recent years have enjoyed sharing my enthusiasm with others. But I also like the fact that fencing isn't mainstream and is different. It's nice to be associated with something that has a little mystique about it.
I can explain my interest in the Japanese arts, philosophy and the Samurai a little easier. Many years ago when I was a wee nipper (well about 10 years old) my parents took me on a holiday visit to a house called Snowshill Manor which is owned by the National Trust. I don't remember much about it apart from one room, dimly lit, which contained a collection of Japanese Samurai armour and weapons. The striking thing about the armour was that it was arranged as if people were wearing it, some sitting on folding military stools, some stood in the shadows. Those of you familiar with Samurai armour will know that the helmets often have face plates shaped like a real face and the sight of these ghostly figures with their swords, banner and flags got me hooked. From there on in I have always had a fascination for the Samurai and this lead onto wider interests such as Martial Arts, Zen, Calligraphy and many other incidental surprises along the way. So that one small visit as a child shaped the way I am today. It's the small things that do it. But I digress....
Over the years I have seen many people take up fencing and probably only 10% of them actually continue it for more than a couple of years, particularly adult students. A lot of them buy all the kit and then simply disappear one week never to return. I'm pleased to say that I now have a group of regular students that I can rely upon to keep turning up to endure my lessons; students who I have known for a few years now. But I sometimes wonder, what is it that keeps them coming back? I know it's not my jokes and I'm not big headed enough to accept that it's the brilliance of my teaching! I suspect it's some strange affinity we share for the strange activity known as fencing and the fact that we all passed through the gate at some stage and for some reason. It's this affinity that keep us coming back when we have a headache, after a hard day in the office, college or school and when progress is slow..... Long may it continue!