The following thoughts come from my Tozando Weekly notification. I wish I had a link directly to their notification; instead I will copy the thoughts exactly, as I found them interesting. There is a good reason why martial artists seek Koryu Arts. Such arts preserve the information from time before: How the people survived.

Some New Old Thoughts
There is something quietly humbling about stepping into a koryu dojo. The air feels different. The kata feel different. Even the silences between movements feel deliberate. Koryu budo refers to the classical martial traditions of Japan that were founded before the Meiji Restoration, systems shaped by very real considerations of survival, warfare, and social order. Schools such as Tenshin Shoden Katori Shinto-ryu, Kashima Shinto-ryu, Ono-ha Itto-ryu, and many others, preserve technical and philosophical frameworks that predate the modern budo we see in gymnasiums and competitions today. When you practice them, you are not just learning techniques. You are inheriting a way of thinking.
Modern budo such as Kendo, Judo, Iaido, and Aikido did not emerge from thin air. They are reformulations, educational distillations, and in some cases philosophical reinterpretations of older combative systems. If you spend time in Ono-ha Itto-ryu, for example, the conceptual roots of kendo become very clear. The emphasis on cutting through the center, the idea of decisive, singular engagement, the cultivation of presence over flashiness. These are not modern inventions. They are inheritances. Modern budo made training safer and more widely accessible, but the DNA is still there.
From a slightly academic standpoint, koryu function as living primary sources. They are embodied archives. Densho and makimono tell us what was written, but kata tell us what was meant. The body preserves what text alone cannot. Timing, maai, metsuke, psychological pressure. These things resist translation. When we lose a koryu, we do not just lose a curriculum. We lose a particular lens through which warriors once understood conflict, ethics, and responsibility.
On a more personal note, keeping koryu alive feels less like preservation and more like participation. It is not about nostalgia or reenactment. It is about stewardship. We practice in modern times with electric lights and busy schedules, but when we bow in and begin, we are momentarily connected to generations who struggled, adapted, and refined these systems long before us. That continuity carries weight. And honestly, it keeps us honest.
The preceding came from the Tozando International email sent to KSKD February 13, 2026.
The Tozando Blog site.
Other Thoughts on the topic of Koryu:
KSKD Blog: What is Koryu
Sensei Matthew’s Koryu Reading Lists
Sensei Peter Boylan’s Transmitting Koryu
