The Hidden Code in the Name: Jutsu, Sport, and Do

When I was a young man in the 1980s, I remember walking into my first Hapkido school.​

The mats were worn, the walls were plain, but the energy in the room was electric.

I didn’t know what to expect, but I was nervous and excited. What I didn’t know back then was that I was stepping into a world built on a philosophy much deeper than just kicking and punching.

​Grandmaster Bong Soo Han, my teacher, didn’t just teach us techniques. He gave us reading lists. Books on the history of martial arts—not just Korean, but Japanese, Chinese, Brazilian, Okinawan, Filipino. He wanted us to understand the roots, the culture, the why behind the how.

We studied the Meiji Restoration of Japan and how it reshaped the samurai class into modern citizens—and turned Jutsu into Do.

We learned about The Boxer Rebellion in China and why martial arts became both a source of resistance and a symbol of national pride.

We talked about how Gichin Funakoshi had to train in secret.

Why Capoeira looks like dancing.

Why some arts hid behind ritual while others marched into sport.

Through that study, I started to see something that most martial artists never notice: the name of the style—those last few letters—actually reveals the philosophy behind it.

I started to see three paths—hiding in plain sight—in every martial art I’d ever practiced or peeked into: the Jutsu path, the Sport path, and the Do path.

Each one holds a different lens on life, with its own vibe, training style, and long-term results.

If you’re in your 20s or 30s, trying to figure out who you are and how to live with strength, purpose, and peace, understanding these three philosophies can save you years of wandering.

Because once you decode the names, you stop guessing and start training with intention.

Let’s crack the code together.

The Jutsu Path – For When Things Get Real

Let’s start with Jutsu.

It’s the street-smart older cousin of the martial arts family.

The one who doesn’t talk much, but when things get sketchy, everyone calls him.

​“Jutsu” (術) means technique or method in Japanese. Think Jujutsu, Kenjutsu, Sojutsu—arts built for warriors on real battlefields. Not for sport. Not for style. For survival.

If you walk into a Jutsu-based gym, here’s what you’ll likely see: simple drills designed to work under pressure.

No fancy flips. No crowds cheering. No medals.

Just raw techniques meant to keep you alive.

You’ll train for things like multiple attackers, close quarters, maybe even weapons. There’s often talk about awareness, avoidance, and mindset. It's not about winning. It's about not losing.

I’ve seen students light up when they realize how practical this path is. But there’s a trade-off.

You might not get much sparring. You might not know how you’re progressing.

Some places feel more like a reality bootcamp than a community.

Still, if you’re someone who walks home alone at night or works security, Jutsu might be your best friend.

The Sport Path – The Arena Calls

Then there’s Sport. Oh boy. This is where the fire is. The tournaments. The weight cuts. The trash talk. The glory.

Sport martial arts take all the danger and try to put it in a box with rules. You get to test yourself. You get to sweat, bleed, and grow. You learn to win—and more importantly, how to lose.

​Boxing, wrestling, Judo, Taekwondo, competitive BJJ—these are the games. And they are games, built with safety rules and referees. But don’t get it twisted: this stuff builds champions. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

You’ll spar a lot. You’ll get real feedback. And you’ll know very quickly where you stand.

But here’s where it can trip you up: not all of it translates to real-world self-defense.

Training to win in a cage isn’t the same as surviving a mugging. Sport can also chew you up if you don’t watch for burnout or injury.

Still, for many young men, this is the crucible they crave. You learn who you are in the middle of a match, with a crowd screaming and your lungs burning.

And if you train smart? That fire turns into steel.

The Do Path – The Warrior as Philosopher

Now, let’s slow down.

The “Do” path is different. It’s quieter. It’s deeper. It’s less about confrontation and more about transformation.

“Do” (道) means “the Way.” Like Aikido. Karatedo. Kendo. These arts aren’t just about defense or competition. They’re about life.

You enter the dojo, and you bow. You move with purpose. You learn that how you throw a punch reveals how you face the world.

Here, perfection isn’t a goal. It’s a path. Training becomes meditation. Repetition becomes refinement.

The opponent isn’t the guy across from you—it’s the lazy, reactive, distracted version of yourself.

This is the path of wisdom. Of stillness. Of discipline. Of character.

It’s not for everyone.

Some people get bored. Others want more action.

And that’s okay. But if you’re seeking peace, focus, and long-term growth—this might be the temple you’ve been looking for.

So Which One Should You Pick?

Honestly? It depends on what season you’re in.

Are you scared and want to feel safe? Jutsu.​
Want to test yourself and level up fast? Sport.​
Looking to grow from the inside out? Do.

The real power?

Knowing which one you’re doing. Most people don’t.

They get confused. They bounce around. Or worse—they quit.

You don’t need to marry one path forever. I didn’t. I started with karate (Jutsu) as a kid, then aikido and hapkido as an adult.

Now I'm diving into Sport BJJ, though I don't plan on competing but I like the intensity and progress of tracking points and submissions.

Each one gave me something I didn’t know I was missing.

And many schools now blend these styles.

BJJ, for example, can be taught as self-defense (Jutsu), as a sport, or as a lifelong practice (Do).

Same with Karate. Same with Muay Thai.

It’s less about the style, more about the mindset and structure.

So don’t just look at the name on the sign. Ask how they train. Ask what they value. Ask if it fits who you are—and who you want to be.

Because once you know the difference, you get to choose with clarity.

And choosing with clarity? That’s what leaders do.

Putting It On the Mat

Before I found Meraki, I was at another gym. I had a classmate there—let’s call him Jay. Mid-20s. Tall. Strong. A little lost.

He’d been training five years in this traditional school. Lots of kata. Lots of belts. Not much contact.

One day, during a class we had just finished, he came up to me and said, “I’ve done everything they asked. Memorized all the forms. Passed every test. But I still feel like I couldn’t defend myself if I had to.”

We talked. I listened.

Jay wasn’t weak. He just needed clarity. He’d been training in a Do-style school, but his heart was craving the fire of the Sport path—or maybe even the pressure of Jutsu.

I asked him: “What are you training for?”

He paused. Thought about it. “To not be afraid anymore.”

That answer? That’s gold.

So I suggested to him a gym that trained hard. Lots of sparring. Live drills. Tough rounds. At first, it broke him down. Then it built him up. Now he competes. Teaches. And walks with his head up.

You might be in Jay’s shoes right now.

You might feel frustrated, stuck, or uncertain—not because you’re lazy, but because you’re training under the wrong light.

There’s no shame in switching paths.

But there is regret in staying lost.

So here’s what I want you to do:

• Ask yourself: Why am I training?
• Look at your school: What are they actually teaching?
• Be honest: Is it what I truly need?

If you need help figuring that out, reply to this email.

No sales pitch. No pressure.

Just guidance from someone who’s walked all three paths.

Because martial arts isn’t just about fighting.

It’s about finding the way.

And the sooner you know your way, the sooner you start living it.

Let’s put it on the mat.

—Chuck