Beyond the Cut: What Weapons Practice Really Teaches Us

When I first started Aikido, I was drawn to the idea of training with weapons. The thought of owning my own Japanese samurai sword and being someone who could swoosh it around looking like a hard nut – I’m embarrassed to say – had a certain appeal.

As my understanding of Aikido’s principles developed, I came to see weapons practice as a tool to help refine my form and apply the movements to taijutsu (empty-handed practice). And in many ways, that’s exactly how it works for lots of people. I still hope that, in time, my movements will become more refined – whether I’m holding a bokken or simply working with a partner, empty-handed.

But recently, something else has started to become clear. I’ve begun to see the bokken as a mirror of our own understanding. It reflects not just technique, but who we are in that very moment. Rather than trying to cut an opponent, I’m realising that the real practice is moving within myself – not overreaching, staying balanced, and keeping a calm mind rooted in the present.

I’ve noticed that the moment I imagine cutting ‘someone’, everything changes. I lose the calmness, the sense of connection, and the awareness of my own centre. I’ve realised I need to forget the bokken is even there, and instead move my whole self. With a bokken, it’s easier to feel whether everything is moving together as one, as it becomes simply an extension of yourself – a tool to help you realise this.

And one of the beautiful things about weapons practice is that, like tai sabaki and zazen, it’s something you can do entirely on your own. You don’t need a partner or a mat – just a bit of space and presence. It allows for consistent, personal exploration – a way to keep returning to the path, any time, even outside the dojo.