Cutting through the pretensions that could make a ragtag, baker’s dozen of curious students presume to a discipline more severe than warranted, Shibata Sensei told us to relax and then commented on how auspicious it was that the snow was falling. When he did, his command was to relax.Ĭarolyn explained that he thought we were sitting like elite monks.ĭespite being twentieth in an unbroken line of imperial bowmakers and kyudo masters, Shibata Sensei does not abide dignities and honorarities that build ego. Once seated, we waited for him to speak but he took his time in communicating. Then he walked forward and looked closer before bowing again. He was dressed in dark wash jeans, a puffy winter jacket, pale grey slippers that had been warmed by the cast iron stove in the corner, and a black winter hat that had XX embroidered in white on the forehead-signifying his lineage identity as the 20th Kanjuro Shibata. We stood, and for a moment of solid silence Shibata Sensei stared at us, taking in our faces with direct purpose before bowing to us and we to him.
We sat on gomdens and waited as Shibata Sensei-a green 91 years young and recently recovered from a bout of pneumonia-was escorted in with his wife and translator, Carolyn, and their little gray dog. The distance was negligible but kyudo is not a sport like the western form of archery, where the distance between archer and target is a concern second only to where on the target one’s arrow enters. Three hay bales wrapped in plastic canvas were peppered with puncture holes. The walls were decorated with photographs from Kanjuro Shibata Sensei’s life of practice, along with documents of merit and souvenirs. Instead we gathered in the free-standing garage, now converted to a shrine room and indoor practice space. So we did not receive instruction in the snow. Of the thirteen of us Shambhala Mountain Center staff who came to Boulder on this day to receive instruction in Kyudo-literally “the way of the bow”, a Japanese practice of meditation in action-only one had taken First Shot before. The snowfall began the night before, and by the time we arrived in a loose caravan of 4 cars Zenko-Iba was covered in white.
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