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 Aiki
Jinja Tai Sai Festival
Iwama, Japan
April 29, 2002
This article was written a few days after
the passing of Morihiro Saito Shihan. The Tai Sai Festival, held
April 29, 2002, was the last official public activity conducted
by Morihiro Saito Shihan. With this article, I pay tribute to his
final days.
By Gaku Homma
Nippon Kan Kancho
On April 23, 2002, I received a phone call from
Japan. My presence at this year’s Aiki Jinja Tai Sai Festival
on April 29 was being requested. Tai Sai is the grand festival
held at the Aiki shrine in Iwama every year to honor the Founder
Morihei Ueshiba. Without hesitation I began to make plans to leave
for Iwama, where the festival was to be held.
Attending this year's Tai Sai Festival in Iwama was important
to me for several reasons. The number one reason, of course, was
my respect for the Founder of Aikido and my teacher, Morihei Ueshiba.
For me, Iwama was an important part of my youth. To attend the Tai
Sai festival again would bring things full circle in my life.
Another reason attending this year’s festival was important
to me was that Iwama Dojo Cho, Aikikai Shihan Morihiro Saito 9th
Dan would be presiding. Saito Shihan was the longest uchideshi of
the Founder and has been keeper of the Aiki Shrine since the Founder’s
death in 1969. The Aiki Shrine and Saito Shihan are symbols of Aikido’s
history and heritage for Aikidoists around the globe. This year
especially, as Saito Shihan battled a serious illness, I went to
Iwama to support him. Saito Shihan took care of me as a youth in
Iwama and has visited me in Denver on three occasions. It was my
turn to humbly offer support.
For the weekend of April 27-28, I had already scheduled a fundraising
seminar at Nippon Kan in Denver to raise money to support Nippon
Kan’s Homeless Meal Service Program with the Denver Rescue
Mission. When the invitation came, I postponed the seminar one-week
and left quickly for Japan. It was not a difficult decision to make.
The relationship between teacher and student is of the utmost importance
to me. My teachers had called me. I had to go.
Accompanied by Nippon Kan president, Doug Kelly, I flew to Japan
on April 27. Upon arriving the next day, we went directly to Iwama
and made our way to the Iwama dojo compound. I headed to
the dojo shrine and made offerings called kijo no hokoku
in Japanese. Simply translated, this offering is made by one who
used to live there, a formal way of saying, “I have returned
home.” I then went to Saito Shihan’s bedside to say
hello. Because I had visited Iwama only one month before, he was
surprised and happy to see me visiting again.
The ceremony began at 11:00 a.m. the following morning. We arrived
early while everything was still fairly quiet. The dojo grounds
were beautiful in the early morning light, and we spent time quietly
reflecting on the beauty and serenity of the surroundings. We also
had a moment to pay our respects to Doshu Moriteru Ueshiba
while he prepared for the day in the Founder’s former living
room. We called out our morning greetings from the gardens outside
the living quarters. As he stood to slide the glass door open, I
could not help but flash back to an image of the Founder as he once
stood at the very same place. Even though his schedule for the upcoming
day would be extremely busy, he took a few minutes to say hello
to us.
 All
of the sliding doors of the Aiki shrine had been removed for the
ceremony. Not only did this allow the shrine to accommodate the
people in attendance, it was also in accord with Shinto philosophy
for the shrine to be open to be in communication with nature. The
space occupied by the shrine is called the honden. Originally
the honden was simply a flat space cordoned off on the ground
where offerings were made to the gods. Later, to protect the worshipers
from the elements, a roof was erected over the honden space, but
the structure remained without walls. Eventually walls and sliding
doors were built, but like the ones of the Aiki shrine, the doors
were built to be removed during ceremonies. Unlike Christian churches,
which usually don't have windows to the outside, the honden
is open to the elements of nature during prayer.
When the Founder first built the Aiki Shrine, he began with the
okuden that housed the main deity. The honden was
nothing but an empty space in front of the okuden. He called
this space the yagai dojo, which means “the outside
ceremony space.”
The priests in attendance this day were from the Omoto Kyo Shinto
Sect, the personal religion of the Founder during his lifetime.
As is common in Japan, the Founder also practiced Buddhism, and
some of his ashes are kept at the family Buddhist temple in his
hometown of Tanabe in Wakayama prefecture.
About 1,000 people from throughout Japan attended the Tai Sai
Festival. The ceremony itself lasted about an hour and a  half
and ceremony culminated in an Aikido demonstration performed by
Doshu Moriteru Ueshiba. This special demonstration is called
ho no embu or a demonstration offering.
After the official ceremonies and demonstration, it was time for
naorai or the gathering together to celebrate with food, drink,
and much communication. Under a crisp blue sky, people settled in
small groups on picnic cloths throughout the grounds for a celebration
picnic.
I was in the company of Akita Branch Shigeru Kawabe Shihan, Iwama
Dojo’s, Shigemi Inagaki Shihan, and Hiroshi Isoyama Shihan.
We had a chance to talk to Doshu Moriteru Ueshiba once more
in a little more relaxed manner. Doshu asked me “Natsukashii
desu ka (about Iwama and Tai Sai)?” This translates loosely
to mean “Does all of this bring back memories of your days
at Iwama?” We talked at length about Iwama in the Founder’s
time.
 Morihiro
Saito Shihan attended the ceremony in a wheelchair. He also attended
the naorai where students and friends came to visit him.
He used a collapsible canvas chair I had given to him as a present
in Denver three years ago. He said it was comfortable for him in
his confinement. As we talked, he took out his pocket watch from
the sash of his kimono. After studying it for a moment, he
asked me if I would like to have it. Even though I was deeply honored
and appreciative of the offer, giving someone one’s own watch
implied that the giver is no longer in need of time. I politely
refused the watch because all of us need as much of Saito Shihan’s
time as possible.
The moment spoke volumes of unspoken sentiment. It was clear to
me that Saito Shihan was moving towards his final departure, yet
his grace and sense of purpose were prevalent. He said to me after
a moment “Homma-kun, I have finished my duties…all of
the arrangements for today’s Tai Sai festival have been taken
care of. The grass has been trimmed, the bento boxes ordered.
All is in order, even the weather today is good, making every thing
perfect.” After pausing a moment, he continued in a low voice,
almost to himself “This is the last”. He said this with
a nod of acceptance.
I heard from family members, that the day following Tai Sai,
Saito Shihan visited his family temple and his family grave site
where he prayed. The day after his passing, mofuku (ceremonial
funeral kimono) that had been ordered by Saito Shihan himself, were
delivered to his wife and two daughters.
 I
have visited Iwama often since my days there as a youth, but I had
not attended this festival and ceremony for 33 years. It felt like
I had traveled a very long distance to be there again—not
only physical distance but also in terms of time and the experiences
I have had in my life since that time. When Doshu asked me
if the festival brought back memories or if I felt nostalgic about
Iwama, it was a difficult question to answer. Having been away for
so long, I felt many different emotions.
 Before
coming to Japan for this visit, I had just finished an article about
the Founder and his life at Iwama before he passed away. I used
many photos taken around 1968. The small seedlings I remembered
in the photos have now grown to full-sized trees and offer a shady
retreat for those attending the festival. The tsutsuji or
azaleas other students and I helped the Founder plant were now taller
than a full-grown man and opened wide like oversized umbrellas.
 The
fields I had once planted with potato and peanuts now were home
to groves of cherry trees a foot in diameter.
Students from near and far gathered under the flowering trees to
remember the Founder and to toast to each other’s health and
happiness. It was a comfortable, natural scene. You could feel the
true spirit of Aikido there amidst the celebration. There was no
talk about Aikido politics, ranking, technique or differing philosophies.
It was a gathering of pure heart and spirit. It is time now, I thought,
for all of us to rekindle this spirit.
Today with a touch on a keyboard you can access hundreds of Aikido
commentators and analysts. The world has become a much smaller place.
In some regards this is a good thing. Today people from all over
the world come to Iwama to train and live as uchideshi. People
of different cultures, lifestyles, religions, and languages can
visit Iwama and feel the spirit the Founder left in this place.
The spirit of Aikido—love.
Since the time of the passing of the Founder, Saito Shihan has been
with us to keep this spirit alive.  We
need to appreciate and understand what Saito Shihan has accomplished
by preserving and passing along this spirit through his vigilant
care. Still today, even in a wheelchair, Saito Shihan is here, presiding
over the day’s events. All Aikidoists should be able to appreciate
this.
We stayed in Iwama for two nights. On the morning of our third day
in Japan, after bidding our farewells, we headed for Tokyo. The
next day in Tokyo we visited Aikikai headquarters at Hombu dojo.
We observed morning practice, which begins each morning at 6:30
a.m. When Doshu is in Tokyo, he teaches morning practice
every day. Whenever I am in Japan I try to stop by and pay my respects
to Doshu and to Hombu dojo. I have many memories of
Hombu dojo while living with the Founder. Over the last 33
years things at Hombu dojo have, of course, changed. Leadership
has passed first from the Founder to his son Kisshomaru and now
to his grandson, Moriteru Ueshiba. Many years may have passed but
my feeling of respect for Hombu dojo remains the same.
In the middle of practice, Iimura Shihan entered the dojo. At 77
he still emanates a powerful presence. His keiko gi was tattered
with years of wear and had been mended meticulously many times with
care. His hakama was worn white at the knees and also showed
signs of painstaking patchwork. He slowly made his way through the
dojo greeting students and guests alike with the most gracious
and humble manner. He stopped by where we were sitting and formally
bowing in seiza, greeted us good naturedly and thanked us
for coming. His manner and attitude reminded me of the Founder.
As a mentor to many, he oversaw practice, giving his support of
ages and generations past. Watching him, I could feel the Hombu
dojo I remembered. He embodied a graciousness that I remember
from many visits during days gone by.
Without saying a word, Iimura Shihan spoke volumes with his manner
and actions. His presence is an important example to all of us as
students. As I watched him, I hoped the students on the mat were
wise enough to understand what he was teaching. As Aikidoka, I feel
it is important for all of us to return to the innocence of the
practice of Aikido, to return to the spirit where our practice is
from. It is not just academic pursuit I am talking about—the
study of the history of Aikido is an endless task. It is remembering
of the original spirit of Aikido.
In our lifetime, we have seen Aikikai created and the Aikido of
the Founder spread to all parts of the globe. We must also not forget
the first generation of the Founders students who served as pioneers
for this cause. The world of Aikido owes these pioneers a great
debt of gratitude.
I am the owner of a small independent Aikido dojo. I am not
a member of Aikikai, or Iwama style Aikido. However, I will never
forget my youth and my deep respect for what I experienced.
After the Founder passed away there was much political reorganization.
At that time, I did not join any other Aikido organization. This
still remains true to this day, 33 years later. With deepest respect
for the Founder, I have focused on my own path, yet I have not forgotten
my past or the roots of my experience. In this respect, I have been
able to maintain a relationship that has enabled me to be invited
to attend milestone events in the Aikido world such as the funeral
of Kisshomaru Ueshiba, the inauguration of Moriteru Ueshiba as his
successor, and this year’s Tai Sai Festival in Iwama.
Today many dojos have become independent. This is true for many
reasons, whether political, philosophical, territorial or other.
Whether independent or affiliated in some manner, we all practice
Aikido. At this point I think it is more important to look at what
is common to all of our practice than what is different. To reflect
on where Aikido came from for all of us—an Aikido renaissance
so to speak.
Those that I have encountered on this trip have inspired reflection
on shugyo or (the path of life practice). Saito Shihan, even
bound to a wheelchair, remained diligent to his purpose until the
very end. This was the greatness of his spirit. At Hombu dojo,
Iimura Shihan graced the dojo with his humility and kindness,
truly sharing his gift of wisdom with the young people during their
practice. Doshu Moriteru Ueshiba, as the global leader of
Aikikai remains diligent and positive, teaching morning practice
daily.
For some, the practice of Aikido is no more than copying technique
recipes. My experiences this trip reinforce to me that more important
than technique is what we can learn from the lives of role models
such as these. Each Sensei has such a gift to give, with
their wisdom and experience.
As we were leaving Hombu dojo, we stopped momentarily by
the office. Doshu was there and asked us if we were heading
directly back to the United States. He gave us two posters of the
40th Annual All Japan Aikido Demonstration to be held later this
May as a souvenir.
Aikikai has grown rapidly over the years into a very large, worldwide
organization. It is so large that at times one might feel it has
grown a little impersonal. This pleasant exchange with Doshu
upon our departure reminded me of the “at home feeling”
Hombu dojo had three decades ago. That tradition is still
alive in this third generation of the Ueshiba family. With this
spirit the future will be bright for the world of Aikido to come.
Gaku Homma
Nippon Kan Kancho
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