Seven lines, spoken at the end of every session, in every MOKNZ dojo. Here is what they mean and where they came from.
At the close of training the senior instructor speaks each line and the class repeats it. It takes under a minute. It has ended Kyokushin training sessions since the first honbu dojo opened in Tokyo.
Every line begins with hitotsu — "one". Not first, second, third. Each is equally the first, and none outranks another.
The instructor speaks each line; the class repeats it.
Hitotsu, ware ware wa, shinshin o renmashi kakko fubatsu no shingi o kiwameru koto.
We will train our hearts and bodies for a firm unshaking spirit.
Hitotsu, ware ware wa, bu no shinzui o kiwame, ki ni hasshi, kan ni bin naru koto.
We will pursue the true meaning of the martial way so that in time our senses may be alert.
Hitotsu, ware ware wa, shitsujitsu goken o mot-te, jiko no seishin o kanyo suru koto.
With true vigor, we will seek to cultivate a spirit of self denial.
Hitotsu, ware ware wa, reisetsu o omonji, chojo o keishi, sobo no furumai o tsutsushimu koto.
We will respect our superiors and refrain from violence.
Hitotsu, ware ware wa, shinbutsu o totobi, kenjo no bitoku o wasurezaru koto.
We will follow and honour our conscience and never forget the true virtue of humility.
Hitotsu, ware ware wa, chisei to tairyoku to o kojo sase, koto ni nozonde ayamatazaru koto.
We will look up to wisdom and strength, not seeking other desires.
Hitotsu, ware ware wa, shogai no shugyo o karate no michi ni tsuji, Kyokushin no michi o matto suru koto.
All our lives, through the discipline of karate, we will seek to fulfill the true meaning of the Kyokushin way.
Recited at the end of every session, in Japanese or English depending on the dojo.
The wording is plain enough that it barely needs explaining, but it repays a little thought — particularly for a new student wondering what they have just agreed to.
The first line puts them together deliberately. A strong body with no character behind it is not the point of any of this.
Not technique for its own sake. The promise is that if you keep looking, your judgement sharpens — you notice more, and sooner.
Turning up when you don't feel like it. Finishing the set. Choosing the harder option when nobody would know either way.
The second half is the one that surprises people. A full-contact style, and the oath explicitly forbids using it. That is not a contradiction — it is the whole reason the training is safe to give anyone.
Humility is named as a virtue rather than a manner. It's what stops skill turning into arrogance, and it is why nobody in the dojo makes much of their grade.
A line about what you point yourself at. Two things worth chasing, and a warning that most of the rest is noise.
The last line makes the timeframe explicit. Not until black belt. Not until you stop competing. All of it.
Not Sosai Mas Oyama. He asked someone else.
Oyama's favourite book was Eiji Yoshikawa's Musashi, the story of the undefeated two-sword swordsman Miyamoto Musashi. He had taken it with him into the mountains during his years of solitary training, and by the time he came down and built the honbu dojo in Tokyo, he wanted an oath for the wall — and he wanted Yoshikawa to write it.
So he began turning up outside the novelist's house with a packed lunch and waiting under a tree. He did this, by his wife's account, for something like six months, without ever knocking. Too polite to impose.
One day the back gate was open and he could see two of the household's maids splitting firewood. He went in and did it for them. When Yoshikawa later wandered into his garden and found the wood stacked neatly, he asked who was responsible, and was told about the man who had been waiting outside for half a year.
They met. Oyama explained what he wanted and admitted he had no money to pay for it. Yoshikawa's answer was that the firewood had bought him hotter baths every night for weeks, so the debt already ran the other way.
The story comes from an interview with Chiyako Oyama, Sosai's wife, who said her husband felt more strongly about the dojo kun than almost anything, and asked that students keep saying it after every session.
Retold here in our own words, from an account given by Sosai's wife. If your dojo has its own version of this story, we would like to hear it.