“none of us ever really outgrow being a beginner”
Stay the Course:
“Neisha san, you not do Judo, you do Kendo! Kendo is sport
of Kings, Judo, street fight!”
These are the words I remember from a conversation when I
was around 10 or 11 years old. I had just started Judo after seeing my cousins
Judogi and yellow belt hanging on his bedroom door.
Judo was very much a niche sport in New Zealand back then.
Kendo, even more so. Kendo looked cool, but it simply wasn’t accessible to a
family with no connection to Japanese Budo or martial arts. Our only real
source of information was the Encyclopedia Britannica at my aunt’s house -
which wasn’t exactly the same as walking into a dojo.
That was about 43 years ago. A lady never her true age, so
you can do the maths.
My Mum never really liked the idea of Judo, but the choice
at the time was Judo or ice hockey. Ice hockey didn’t take “girls” back then,
so off to Judo we went.
Sadly, my first encounter with Judo was short-lived. A long
trip down Dominion Road on a cold, wet Auckland night to train in a freezing
hall soon lost its appeal. Being grounded on the bench for throwing a boy
probably didn’t help sustain my enthusiasm either.
Fast forward 17 years and I found myself back in the dojo,
this time with a renewed determination to give it another go.
Twenty-seven years later, I attained my Yondan.
It is an accomplishment that has come with plenty of sweat,
blood, tears - and, of course, politics - but it is one I am immensely proud to
have achieved.
...the path does not need applause.
So, what now brings me to Kendo?
A different path.
In 2023, I was privileged to participate in the Japan and
New Zealand Budo Cultural Exchange Programme, an online initiative hosted by
the Nippon Budokan and Auckland Kendo Club, New Zealand. The programme
showcased both modern and classical Japanese martial arts, with the aim of
promoting international understanding and the dissemination of Budo, as well as
friendship and goodwill between our two countries.
I was introduced to the breadth of Japanese Budo: Kyudo,
Sumo, Aikido, Naginata, Kendo, Judo, Shorinji Kempo, Iaido, Karate, Jukendo and
Tendo-ryu.
The energy and spirit shared that day stayed with me.
At the same time, my growing interest in Judo Kata had
opened another door. After studying Ju-no-Kata and Kime-no-Kata, Kendo seemed
like a natural progression – a way to explore more deeply the traditions and
philosophy of Japanese Budo. There was also a wonderful connection to Judo.
Jigoro Kano Shihan, the founder of Judo, had studied Kenjutsu. But beyond those
historical connections, something else drew me to Kendo: its sense of purpose
and discipline, its emphasis on intent, and the way it has retained such a
strong connection to its Japanese roots.
There was just one small problem.
Where was I going to train?
There were no Kendo clubs in my region. The closest was the
Waikato Kendo Club in Hamilton.
Fuel prices were soaring, the roads between home and
Hamilton were not exactly a quick commute, and common sense might reasonably
have suggested finding a closer hobby. But apparently common sense is not a
prerequisite for taking up another martial art.
A martial artist must have resilience - and find a way.
So, 21⁄2 hours later, across the treacherous Matatā
Straights and over the Kaimai Ranges, I stepped into my first Kendo lesson at
Waikato Kendo Club with Sam Tsai sensei, and I was hooked.
Beginning again.
The learning has been progressive and the fundamentals have
been taught exceptionally well, laying a strong foundation that I hope will
support me along my Kendo path for many years to come.
But the unexpected surprise has not been the teaching. It
has been the people.
The Waikato Kendo family is something special. A community
that would not exist without the hard work, commitment and generosity of both
Tsai-sensei, Sam and Marleen, who have opened the doors and created a place for
us to learn.
There is a wonderful lineage within this group, connecting
New Zealand, Japan and Taiwan.
But knowing great masters is not enough. Having studied
under great teachers is not enough. Having collected experience, ranks, titles
or achievements is not enough.
What matters is what we are able to transmit.
At the heart of this group are values that I have come to
appreciate deeply: humility, intellectual curiosity, generosity in teaching, a
willingness to listen, and respect for people whose path may be different from
our own.
Transitioning from Judo to Kendo has brought many familiar
echoes - but also the humbling experience of starting again from the beginning.
After decades of Judo, beginning again as a novice in another Budo is a useful
reminder that none of us ever really outgrow being a beginner.
You can have a rank. You can have titles. You can have medals. You can have a résumé full of impressive names, but none of those things, by themselves, make you a better practitioner, teacher or person.
The value of a path is not measured by the number of names
we can mention, the ranks we hold, or the medals we have collected. Ultimately,
the measure of a journey is how we behave toward the people we encounter along
the way. Your achievements tell people where you have been. Your behaviour
tells them what you have learned.
This journey has brought me into a shared collective of
like-minded, professional people where character matters more than credentials;
where kindness and mutual support make us stronger; where we learn from one
another, challenge one another and encourage one another.
All while trying to hit each other with bamboo swords.
Perhaps that is the real beauty of the path. It doesn’t need
applause. It simply needs us to keep walking it together.
Neisha Brooking, Kendo Reflections, 10 August 2026.
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