After starting out in the striking arts and getting into his fair share of fights, Greg Sinclair was trying to find something that would help him in situations where he was physically outmatched. He found aikido in 1992. After training for a number of years and by a lucky chance, Sinclair found himself learning directly from Steven Seagal Shihan. His time with Seagal was transformative, taking his aikido to a completely new level, which helped him establish his Bushinkan Aikido Kai. Today, Sinclair took some time to talk about his experience, his understanding and approach to aikido, and how the art fits into the modern world. All images provided by Greg Sinclair.
Martial Arts of Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow: Welcome Sinclair Sensei! Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today!
Greg Sinclair: Thank you for having me here!
MAYTT: You came to aikido in 1992 after participating in several striking arts. What was about aikido that made you want to give it a try?
GS: During my time practicing striking arts, I encountered the frustration of dedicating countless hours to training, only to be confronted by individuals who possessed innate athleticism that seemed to effortlessly overcome my skill. Despite my relentless pursuit of improvement, there was always the looming possibility of encountering someone who could outmatch me. Recognizing that I wasn’t destined to be the strongest or fastest fighter, I sought an approach that aligned with the concept of utilizing an opponent’s strength against them – a principle often espoused in martial arts, particularly those originating from the Far East.
In my quest for such a methodology, I explored various martial arts disciplines, including Tai Chi, Kempo, Karate, kickboxing, and even a very violent striking form of self-defense, in search of a style that could effectively leverage an adversary’s momentum and power. It was during this exploration that a friend introduced me to a recorded demonstration of aikido from The Merv Griffin Show, which captivated me with its ability to seemingly and effortlessly redirect an attacker’s force. Intrigued by what I had witnessed, I delved deeper into the practice of aikido, albeit struggling initially to fully comprehend its techniques.
Despite my initial difficulties, I dedicated myself to studying aikido for a period, though I eventually took a hiatus from training due to concerns about its effectiveness in confrontations against opponents trained in more aggressive and overtly martial arts styles. Coming from a background rooted in striking arts renowned for their potency, I questioned whether the techniques of aikido could truly be applied against adversaries’ intent on causing harm.
However, my fascination with aikido persisted, fueled in part by the emergence of figures like Steven Seagal, whose demonstrations showcased a different approach to the art than what I had encountered in my early studies. Recognizing the disparity between what I had learned and what I observed in such demonstrations, I embarked on a journey to bridge the gap between theory and practical application within the realm of aikido.
Ultimately, it was the promise of aikido’s potential to empower individuals of smaller stature that drew me to the practice and kept me invested in exploring its intricacies. My journey into aikido was driven by a desire to find a martial art that offered a strategic advantage to the “little guy,” a pursuit that continues to shape my understanding and practice of this art form.
MAYTT: That is interesting. What was it about aikido that ultimately gave you what you were looking for?
GS: My journey into aikido stemmed from a practical need for an effective self-defense system. Coming from a background where I often found myself in confrontations due to my warped sense of humor and past behavior, I sought a martial art that could empower me in situations where I was physically outmatched. Recalling numerous fights where I had been caught off guard by the initial onslaught of my opponents, I realized the importance of being able to withstand and counter that first barrage of attacks.
Despite not being physically imposing, standing at under six feet and having a slender build, I was determined to find a martial art that could level the playing field. One memorable incident from the 1980s saw me being physically overpowered by an opponent who lifted me overhead and slammed me to the ground, leaving me reeling in pain. It was then that I recognized the significance of a throw, as exemplified in aikido’s principles.
Initially skeptical of aikido’s techniques, I found myself grappling with doubts about their practicality in real-life scenarios. I could see how the techniques might work, but not the way we were doing them. However, I remember in one particular fight, where my opponent could not stop my right, he ended up just grabbing at me, leading me to reconsider the effectiveness of the approach.
My journey with aikido was marked by a slow but steady acceptance of its principles, fueled by a desire for functionality over artistry in self-defense. I sought to integrate elements of my striking art with aikido’s techniques, believing that together they could form a comprehensive approach to combat.
While acknowledging my tendency to learn through firsthand experience rather than instruction, I gradually came to appreciate the synergy between aikido and my existing skills. In the end, my pursuit of a martial art that complimented my strengths led me to embrace aikido as a valuable addition to my repertoire, despite initial reservations about its effectiveness.
MAYTT: How would you describe the training you experienced when you first started aikido?
GS: The aikido practice I engaged in was deeply rooted in tradition, initially falling under the umbrella of the USAF (United States Aikido Federation) during the tenure of Kazuo Chiba Sensei. I found resonance in Chiba Sensei’s approach, which I perceived as highly functional, but a bit stop-and-go.
Over time, our dojo transitioned to the AAA (Aikido Association of America), maintaining its traditional essence. I found great appreciation for the ritualistic elements within aikido, from the ceremonial attire like the hakama to the respectful employment of Japanese terminology. The testing process, with its adherence to tradition, also left a profound impression on me.
However, it became apparent that aikido’s traditional techniques, characterized by numerous grabs and traditional strikes like yokomen and shomen, differed significantly from my past experiences in fights. My background was steeped in angry scuffles and more conventional martial arts, emphasizing direct strikes and sloppy rage-filled haymakers. The contrast between the traditional approach of aikido and the practicality of my prior training was evident to me.
Despite these differences, I held a deep respect for the rich heritage of aikido and the authenticity it preserved. I loved the world it created. While it felt like a practice from another era, distant from the gritty realism of modern confrontations, I valued the discipline’s commitment to tradition and its unique philosophy. This traditional aspect of aikido, although distinct from my past experiences, ultimately won me over, convincing me to put forth the effort to make my Aikido work the way I sought.
MAYTT: In 2008, you became a direct and private student of Steven Seagal. How did that happen?
GS: It was a rather unexpected turn of events that led to my first experience teaching an aikido class. My instructor at the time, John Dore Sensei, had a prior commitment one Saturday morning and asked if I could fill in for him. I agreed, with the freedom to structure the class according to my preferences.
Little did I know, one of Seagal Sensei’s business partners would be in attendance and liked my unorthodox approach. He expressed interest in training together and even offered to introduce me to his Sensei and business partner. When he told me it was Seagal Sensei, I think I actually laughed. It initially struck me as unbelievable, and quite frankly, a little crazy. Having encountered my fair share of eccentric individuals in the martial arts community, I approached the offer with a degree of skepticism.
However, the following Friday, he called me again, insisting that we visit Seagal Shihan the next week. I balked at short notice, unable to arrange travel and accommodations in such a brief span, and on my budget. But to my surprise, he took charge, arranging everything from flights to lodging, ensuring that I could accompany him on this unexpected journey.
Arriving in Chico, California, in the dead of night, I met Seagal Shihan. We found ourselves with exclusive access to Sensei’s teachings for an entire weekend. What was initially meant to be a one-time event turned into a transformative experience for me and my companions.
Sensei’s teaching method was refreshingly unconventional, devoid of traditional dojo trappings like mats. Instead, we gathered on a patch of grass in the desert landscape, ready to absorb his wisdom. I jumped at the opportunity to ask questions, monopolizing his attention, and gaining invaluable insights that reshaped my perspective on aikido.
By the end of that weekend, I felt compelled to reevaluate my approach to aikido entirely. Sensei’s teachings had sparked a profound shift within me, prompting me to set aside my preconceived notions of traditional aikido and embark on a fresh journey of exploration and growth.
Looking back, that impromptu trip to Chico marked a pivotal moment in my aikido journey, one that forever altered my understanding of the art and set me on a path of continuous learning and evolution.
MAYTT: How was his approach to teaching and training compared to the others that you experienced beforehand?
GS: The differences between traditional aikido and the teachings I encountered during that transformative weekend in Chico were nothing short of staggering, to say the least. One of the most eye-opening moments occurred when I approached Sensei with a longstanding dilemma I faced in the kote gaeshi technique.
I had struggled for a long time to address a vulnerability in kote gaeshi, where the transition from entry to technique left me open to a potential punch in the face. It was one of three key questions I was determined to ask him before our time together concluded. His response was unconventional, to say the least.
Sensei’s first instruction was simple: “Punch me.” I obliged, executing a traditional aikido punch: holding it out stepping in and leaving my arm extended just as aikido taught me. He stopped moving and just stared at me. His reaction was unexpected and profound. He asked me if that was the way I would punch him if we were in a fight. I told him no. He responded simply by telling, then don’t punch me that way. Then he demanded I punch him.
I was in my late thirties at the time and while I was not as fast as I was in my twenties, I was not slow either. So, I figured I would either learn something or have a great story to tell. So, I dropped into my old kickboxing stance and let one rip.
His motion was a blur, Sensei deflected, and moved at the same time. He had my arm before I could recoil it. Then came the torque and suddenly the world was upside down, leaving me on the ground in a state of bewilderment. It was a humbling experience, one that challenged my preconceptions and left me reeling.
In that moment, I realized the stark contrast between the theoretical training I was practicing and the reality of a genuine confrontation. Sensei’s ability to neutralize my attack with such speed and ease underscored the limitations of traditional aikido techniques when applied in a practical setting.
As I struggled to comprehend what had just transpired, Sensei’s calm demeanor belied the profound impact of his demonstration. It was a wake-up call, a realization that my understanding of aikido was incomplete, and that there was much to learn from a perspective that prioritized functionality.
In the end, my encounter with Seagal Sensei challenged me to rethink my approach to aikido, urging me to seek a deeper understanding of its principles and their application in real-world scenarios. It was a pivotal moment in my journey, one that would shape my practice and philosophy for years to come.
The experience of witnessing Sensei’s demonstrations was nothing short of revelatory. As he moved from one technique to another, it became increasingly evident that his approach was fundamentally different from anything I had encountered before.
Observing Sensei’s interactions with my companions shed further light on his unique methodology. With each demonstration, it became clear that his footwork, movement, and response to attacks were distinctly different from traditional aikido techniques. His approach was refined. He was achieving the same results, just worlds more efficiently and effectively than what I had grown accustomed to.
Sensei’s insights were brilliant, fixing the mechanics of techniques that had long confounded me. In particular, I asked him about what I knew as a “wheel throw.” His explanation which we referred to as “munedori kokyunage,” revolutionized my understanding of its execution. By emphasizing forward movement and hip rotation, Sensei unveiled a level of efficiency and effectiveness that had eluded me in years of practice. In forty-five seconds, he fixed a technique that haunted me for years.
However, it was Sensei’s demonstration of irimi nage that truly shattered my preconceptions. For years, I had been convinced that the technique simply involved a forceful “clotheslining” motion. I had decades of experience and two worn out Above the Law VHS tapes as proof. But not everything is as it appears. Sensei’s execution revealed a subtlety and precision that defied my prior understanding. Through repeated demonstrations, he revealed the intricacies of body mechanics and leverage that underpinned the technique’s effectiveness. There was a circle there. I could feel it. It was small and tight, but if you relaxed and trusted in your ukemi, I could feel it was a throw not a strike.
Sensei’s teachings fundamentally altered my entire perception of aikido, challenging me to reevaluate my approach and embrace a paradigm shift in my practice. His emphasis on practicality, adaptability, and efficiency opened my eyes to a new dimension of martial arts, one that transcended the confines of tradition and dogma.
As our time with Sensei drew to a close, the prospect of returning to my former practice seemed increasingly untenable. His offer to open a school together marked the beginning of a new chapter in my journey – one characterized by innovation, collaboration, and a commitment to evolving beyond the constraints of convention. I set aside my decade and a half of aikido knowledge and just started over that day.
MAYTT: That was a two-to-three-day weekend excursion for you, but it seems like it was fifteen adventures rolled into one.
GS: Absolutely, it’s a sentiment I can wholeheartedly relate to. The journey to find that transformative insight can be arduous and fraught with challenges, and having finally attained it, there’s a profound sense of gratitude and responsibility that accompanies it. Like you, I feel compelled to share what I’ve learned, to spare others the struggle and uncertainty that defined my own quest for understanding.
The memories of that pivotal experience are etched into my mind with remarkable clarity, each moment and revelation a vivid reminder of the profound impact it had on my perspective and practice. It’s a testament to the power of such transformative encounters, ones that leave an indelible mark on our journey and shape the way we approach our martial arts practice.
Indeed, it’s a journey worth sharing, and I’m honored to have the opportunity to pass on the knowledge and insights I’ve gained to those who seek it. After all, if my own journey can serve as a guide to others on their path to mastery, then I consider it a privilege to pay forward the wisdom that has been bestowed upon me.
MAYTT: What would you consider to be the most important or influential lesson that Seagal Shihan imparted to you and how has that shaped your perspective of aikido?
GS: That’s a tough question. I don’t know that there is one in particular, to be honest with you. Almost everything I asked him, the responses that I got were almost shocking, in relation to what you would expect to hear as an aikidoka. I mean, I had over fifteen years in the art. It was crazy, the things that he would tell me, it was just incredible. There were times where we would do certain techniques, and it was just like traditional aikido. But then he would switch, and all of a sudden, like with ikkyo, it was all about the elbow, and he’d actually hit you in the face with your own elbow. It wasn’t, “Can you do the ukemi for this?” It was, “Are you going to get your arm broken, or are you going to step up your ukemi?”
A lot of his techniques were enlightening. The information I got from him changed everything. I’d run out of questions because his last response was so profound. His approach was different. He stands differently from traditional aikido. He deflects everything rather than using a dodge as an entry. It’s effective, no wasted motion or reliance on your physical attributes over your opponent’s. The footwork and deflections all work together. If you don’t have the footwork right, the deflections won’t work, and vice versa. But if you have both right, the techniques just happen, they just present themselves.
Every single lesson was enlightening. We’d train with him for a weekend, then work on what he taught us for six weeks. It sometimes took longer to grasp. There was one time when he slowed down a technique, which he never does because he believes you lose something when you slow it down. He showed me the motion, and it finally clicked. I think he just got tired of waiting for me to get it. We had been working on that one single technique for months.
It wasn’t easy in the beginning. I’d return from his instruction, get back to my dojo and pound my training partners into the ground because I didn’t know what I was doing. But they were patient and helpful. People like John, Christoff, and others were there at the beginning and put up with it through the whole thing. Their feedback and insights were invaluable. They’re a big reason why the art is the way it is.
It was an amazing opportunity, absolutely. I consider myself equal to winning the lottery. It was something that I always wanted to learn, and I’ve always said that too. What we have is pretty special. We’re not under him anymore, not affiliated with him in any way, but everything we’ve built is based on what I learned when I was with him. That is the whole foundation of everything that we do. The opportunity was just incredible. I wish it worked out better, but you know, things happen. I honestly believe everything’s supposed to happen a certain way, and for some reason, that’s the way it was supposed to happen.
MAYTT: In 2015, at a Martial Arts Association – International event, you were “immediately promoted to rokudan” and even given the title of shihan. What were your initial reactions and feelings?
GS: When it comes to my involvement with traditional aikido and the decision to break away from Hombu Dojo, it was driven by a desire for creative freedom and the flexibility to experiment and innovate. In traditional settings, there’s often a hierarchical structure with revered figures boasting lofty ranks like fifteenth dan Grandmasters, which sometimes felt disconnected from the reality of their skills.
Our departure from tradition was motivated by a vision to carve our own path and to have the autonomy to assess and rank our students based on their actual performance. This led us to reach out to the Martial Arts Association – International, where we engaged in a dialogue about our goals and methods. The process involved submitting videos and detailed correspondence outlining our approach.
While I don’t place excessive importance on titles and ranks, recognizing that true skill is demonstrated on the mat, there are individuals who value these accolades highly. According to the guidelines, instructors should hold a rank at least two levels above those they are ranking, which prompted me to reluctantly accept the rank conferred upon me, albeit feeling it may have been overly generous. Despite any reservations, I chose to abide by the decision and maintain a diplomatic stance within the community.
Again, it is what appears on the mat, not on the paper.
MAYTT: I see. How did you come to establish your Bushikan Aikido Kai organization? How have you seen it grow and evolve since you began?
GS: Our approach to aikido is distinct and diverges from traditional practices, hence why we refrain from labeling ourselves as such. While some in the aikido community may advocate for aggressive tactics like “take his head off” as an approach to a certain technique, we adopt a different mindset entirely. Our focus is on torque-driven techniques rather than brute force or aggression. The emphasis lies in generating torque to execute techniques effectively, rather than relying on impact or forceful movements.
This unique approach has necessitated alterations in our techniques, including our rendition of irimi nage, which deviates significantly from the traditional method. For us, it’s not about striking or “decapitation;” it’s about leveraging torque to execute throws with precision and efficiency. We’ve found that this approach not only aligns more closely with our principles but also yields more effective results.
Our commitment to sharing our approach led us to establish our own entity, separate from traditional aikido schools. We’ve been approached by numerous schools seeking to learn our methods, prompting us to develop innovative teaching methods, such as utilizing video programs to instruct remotely. Despite the challenges posed by distance and language barriers, we’ve been able to connect with practitioners around the world, providing guidance and feedback through video exchanges.
While the pandemic disrupted our plans and connections with some of our international students, our commitment to spreading our unique approach remains steadfast. Our ultimate goal has always been to share our knowledge and techniques with others, using whatever means necessary to facilitate learning and growth within the aikido community.
MAYTT: Being a longtime member and contributor to the aikido community, what are your feelings on the mounting negative views and comments on aikido? Are they truly warranted and, in your opinion, is there anything the aikido community as a whole can do to battle or debunk such perceptions?
GS: Your question touches on a crucial issue that has long plagued the aikido community and resonates deeply with the mission driving our practice. The responses to inquiries about aikido techniques span a wide spectrum. Some individuals approach with genuine curiosity and a desire to understand the art better, while others are driven solely by results and efficacy, dismissing the artistic and philosophical aspects of aikido.
There’s an ongoing tension between those who appreciate the aesthetic beauty of aikido as a form of martial art and those who prioritize its practical applicability in combat scenarios. The latter group often expresses skepticism or outright criticism of aikido’s effectiveness in real-world self-defense situations, and their comments can be harsh and polarizing.
Navigating these discussions requires thick skin, as online forums can be rife with contentious debates and overly critical remarks. Despite this, I’ve attempted to engage with detractors in meaningful dialogue, inviting them to the dojo to demonstrate their concerns firsthand. In some cases, these interactions have led to productive exchanges and even inspired the development of new techniques, deflections, or entries to address specific challenges.
Our approach to aikido emphasizes adaptability and innovation, which may clash with traditionalist views. We acknowledge the limitations of aikido in certain contexts and are constantly seeking ways to enhance its effectiveness. This includes integrating insights from other martial arts disciplines, such as Jiu-Jitsu, MMA, and boxing, into our practice.
Importantly, we encourage students to embrace diversity in their training and to view martial arts as a continuum rather than discrete entities. Whether it’s traditional aikido techniques or modern adaptations, each has its value and relevance depending on the situation. It’s about equipping students with a versatile skill set that can be applied flexibly in diverse scenarios.
Fighting changes. It evolves. When I was a kid, it was all about boxing. As I grew up, Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris and martial artists who could use their feet as weapons rose to the top. Not long after, the Gracies showed the world how to win from the ground on your back, and fighting evolved again.
I firmly believe that the future of aikido lies in its ability to evolve and adapt to meet the needs and challenges of the modern world. By embracing innovation while honoring tradition, we can ensure that aikido remains a dynamic and effective martial art for generations to come.
MAYTT: Where do you think aikido as a whole is going to be in the next ten to fifteen years here in the United States?
GS: I feel that the traditional side of aikido and my own approach provide valuable insights into the ongoing evolution of the martial art. There is value in the beautiful and aesthetic movements of traditional aikido, and even in the traditional values. I do hope that these aspects remain intact. I recognize the beauty and elegance inherent in traditional aikido techniques, and I want to emphasize the importance of preserving this aspect of the art.
At the same time, however, I acknowledge that traditional aikido may be perceived as less functional in certain contexts, yet I maintain a deep respect for its heritage and cultural significance. I do think Japan and Hombu, with its strong tradition and history, to continue guiding traditional aikido along its path.
Regarding my own approach, I think that there is a potential middle ground between the rough-and-tumble mentality of certain martial arts practitioners and the traditional values of aikido. While my methods may depart from traditional techniques, I aim to bridge the gap between functionality and tradition, offering practitioners a blend of historical reverence and practical effectiveness.
I am willing to innovate and adapt, which has me exploring new possibilities within the framework of aikido, even if it means diverging from traditional norms. I acknowledge the inherent differences between my approach and that of Hombu Dojo, recognizing that each has its merits and limitations. By embracing both aspects, I aim to broaden the appeal of aikido and ensure its relevance in contemporary martial arts practice.
MAYTT: Thank you again for joining us, Sinclair Sensei! We enjoyed this conversation!
GS: It was a great conversation!
To learn more about aikido and its history in America, click here.
Martial Arts of Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow 