Tonight, I was writing a chapter for my new book, and I thought I would share it.
On Saturday mornings, I often found myself at a nearby Buddhist temple, Fukusen-ji 福泉寺, at dawn. The temple sat on a bluff overlooking the bay on the East side of Okinawa Island. The building sat slightly away from the coastal road, with a steep stairway leading up the bluff.
temple
Okinawa: land of the happy immortals
I was most fortunate to live in Okinawa, Japan, for three years in my twenties. I was also very happy to study the cultural anthropology of East Asia while living there. It did not help my career as much as an MBA, a computer science degree, or a master’s in electrical engineering would have, but it shaped my life in a way I consider more meaningful.
When I arrived in Japan, all I knew was that karate, which I had already practiced for many years, came from Okinawa. I also already had a strong appreciation for Japanese culture at that time.
In Okinawa, I had the opportunity to witness the art of ikebana (flower arrangement) and the tea ceremony in settings of traditional Japanese wood architecture. I learned a lot about Buddhism at a local temple, fell in love with Zen, made friends with a katana blacksmith (another story), and, of course, experienced Matayoshi-ryu Kobudo.
Lifestyle in Okinawa was magical too. Outside of the southern part of the island where Naha is located, life was rural, with fields and houses in the valleys by the ocean, surrounded by lush tropical mountains. I learned that Okinawans live some of the longest lives in the world. There was no hurry, no “industrial diseases”; people went about their lives with a smile and good company.
Unlike in Poland of my childhood, people were polite and society-oriented. Not communists, just genuinely good neighbors. Adults exercised naturally, walking, cycling, or practicing martial arts—something I never saw growing up. Karate itself developed there, when local families, often of noble lineage, preserved and taught their own fighting styles.
The ocean air was clean, free from industrial pollution, and daily work still relied on hand tools and steady movement. Unlike in the U.S., people didn’t chase “fat-free” diets that do more harm than good. At a small, family-run izakaya (居酒屋), which was more a neighborhood pub than a restaurant, Mama-san would serve a hearty bowl of Okinawa soba (沖縄そば): noodles in pork broth with katsuobushi (鰹節, bonito umami), kelp, and vegetables, and she would offer something more substantial to drink alongside it.
I decided to reconnect with my formative past, so I started training again in Okinawan Shobudo karate, practicing arts, and re-reading The Okinawa Program longevity book.
At seventy, you are but a child,
At eighty, you are merely a youth,
and at ninety,
if the ancestors invite you into heaven,
ask them to wait until you are one hundred...
and then consider it.
Basic lines in Japanese calligraphy (shodō 書道)
In the third lesson of my shodō 書道, I have practiced only drawing lines.
It is more difficult than it appears. In Europe, we are used to writing with a hand on paper, even with an ink fountain pen; there is support.
In Japanese calligraphy, shodō 書道, you sit with your back straight and hold the ink brush (fude 筆) vertically. The strokes use various brush pressures, but they are very prescribed in direction.
墨 sumi: The black ink used in calligraphy.
聿 itsu: This is a more classical kanji that means explicitly "writing brush" and is often used in compound words related to writing.
永
- 側 () - A dot
- 勒 () - A horizontal stroke
- 努 () - A vertical stroke
- 趯 () - A hook
- 策 () - A horizontal stroke with a right upward ending
- 掠 () - A diagonal stroke to the left
- 啄 () - A short diagonal stroke to the left
- 磔 () - A diagonal stroke to the right
Japanese router joints by takuwoodcraft
30 days of shodo (書道) practice
1. 道 (dō / みち)
The way or path. In Japan, every art becomes a dō — a lifelong journey of refinement. Walking the path is itself the art.
2. 氣 (ki / き)
Energy, breath, spirit. It is the unseen connection between body and world — what Uki-hō centers upon.
3. 心 (kokoro / こころ)
Heart, mind, spirit. The unity of emotion and thought; sincerity (makoto) lives here.
4. 静 (sei / しずか)
Quiet, stillness. True strength appears not in motion but in composure — the calm surface of deep water.
5. 水 (mizu / みず)
Water, symbol of adaptability. The Taoist and Zen image of strength through yielding.
6. 木 (ki / き)
Tree, wood. The craftsman’s material and nature’s architecture — from bonsai roots to timber joints.
7. 書 (sho / かく)
To write. In 書道 shodō, calligraphy expresses emotion through line — writing as meditation, not communication.
8. 無 (mu / む)
Nothingness, emptiness. Not a void, but an open field where form can emerge — core of Zen thought.
9. 空 (kū / そら)
Sky, emptiness. It shares essence with mu, yet implies the infinite — a reminder of boundless perspective.
10. 花 (hana / はな)
Flower. Transience and renewal; the Buddhist metaphor for impermanence — all beauty is temporary.
11. 山 (yama / やま)
Mountain. Steadfast, silent teacher — to climb is to know effort; to stand beneath is to learn humility.
12. 海 (umi / うみ)
Sea. The pulse of Okinawa and all islands — vast, rhythmic, both nurturing and unforgiving.
13. 風 (kaze / かぜ)
Wind. The invisible sculptor; it carries change and teaches nonresistance.
14. 和 (wa / わ)
Harmony. Found in relationships, aesthetics, and design — balance without symmetry, peace without passivity.
15. 道具 (dōgu / どうぐ)
Tool, instrument. The craftsman’s companion; simplicity and precision reflect the maker’s state of mind.
16. 礼 (rei / れい)
Respect, courtesy. Bowing in Japan is not formality but recognition of shared humanity.
17. 光 (hikari / ひかり)
Light. Both literal and spiritual — a stroke of illumination, the instant of understanding.
18. 影 (kage / かげ)
Shadow. The counterpart of light; Japanese aesthetics value its subtle depth (kage-e paintings, wabi-sabi mood).
19. 形 (katachi / かたち)
Form. External structure that reveals internal harmony — as in kata or joinery.
20. 剛 (gō / ごう)
Hardness, firmness. The Shotokan side of strength — clear direction, decisive action.
21. 柔 (jū / やわらか)
Softness, gentleness. The Aikidō and Okinawan principle — power through yielding.
22. 合 (ai / あう)
To meet, to harmonize. In Aikidō, blending energy rather than opposing it.
23. 時 (toki / とき)
Time. Every moment is both fleeting and infinite — ichigo ichie, one meeting, one chance.
24. 魂 (tamashii / たましい)
Soul, spirit. The quiet flame behind all creation and endurance.
25. 木漏れ日 (komorebi / こもれび)
Sunlight filtering through leaves. A uniquely Japanese appreciation of impermanence and lightness.
26. 拙 (setsu / つたない)
Clumsy, humble. In Zen art, imperfection is honesty — beauty in sincerity rather than mastery.
27. 工 (kō / こう)
Craft, construction. The joining of hands, tools, and mind — seen in joinery, pottery, and code alike.
28. 線 (sen / せん)
Line. The lifeline of calligraphy; each brushstroke mirrors breath and intention.
29. 生 (sei / いきる)
Life, to live. In Uki-hō, life itself becomes practice — the art of remaining aware while doing ordinary things.
30. 日 (hi / にち)
Sun, day. The symbol at the heart of Nihon (日本) — “origin of the sun.”
It reminds that each sunrise is renewal, a fresh beginning for both study and life.


