What is the Kamiza?
Kamiza (神座) refers to the place and direction where a deity is enshrined. In homes and training halls, this is where the household Shinto altar, kamidana (神棚), is situated. The word is read shinza or kamiza. There is also a theory that it was once called kamukura (神座/神座〈かむくら〉).
Within Japanese cultural ritual, this is a very important concept and a very real place. According to Tenshin Sensei’s recollection (based on densho, the transmitted documents preserved in Tenshinryu), the Tenshinryu guidance hall, which also served as a training space, was equipped with a kamidana (神棚).
Scholars commonly suggest that kamidana began to be installed indoors sometime from the Kamakura through Muromachi periods, but they did not become widespread among commoners until the mid-Edo period. In the Edo period, dojo rarely had a physical shelf-type kamidana; instead, it was common to hang a scroll of Amaterasu Omikami (天照大神) in the center, with Kashima Daimyojin (鹿島大明神 / Kashima Jingu) and Katori Daimyojin (香取大明神 / Katori Jingu) to the left and right, thereby venerating these three pillars (三柱) of kami by means of hanging scrolls.
However, the Tenshinryu guidance hall located at the Shirindan (士林団) post in the early Edo period reportedly did have a proper kamidana (神棚). For that reason, rituals related to the kamiza (神座) have been inherited within Tenshinryu as teachings of great importance.
Tenshin Sensei often stated openly that he personally did not believe in gods or buddhas. Even so, he was meticulous to the point of severity about ritual etiquette during enbu and other occasions. This is precisely because the school itself transmitted etiquette for conducting oneself before the kami. Given Tenshin Sensei’s deep devotion to Tenshinryu as a tradition, it was only natural that he insisted on strict observance of such ceremonial conduct.
What follows is an explanation of etiquette toward the kamiza (神座) in Tenshinryu. While this is essential knowledge for dedicatory performances, hounou-enbu (奉納演武), it is even more fundamental as the baseline common sense for a warrior: as a samurai who reveres kami and buddhas, one should train the mind to act properly at all times and make it second nature.
1) Kamiza Comes First
When performing enbu or similar activities, first offer hai-rei (拝礼) to the kami/buddhas. Greetings to spectators come after. Nothing is to be revered above the divine. At both the beginning and the end, bow to the kami/buddhas first, and then to the audience.
Make your bow to the divine deeper, and your bow to spectators shallower by comparison. Some people reverse this through misunderstanding; please take care not to do so. As a baseline, a full hai-rei (拝礼, roughly a 90-degree bow) is preferred toward the kami, though a somewhat shallower bow may be acceptable depending on circumstances.
2) Do Not Turn Your Backside to the Kamiza
Turning your back to the kamiza (神座) is fundamentally discourteous. During enbu, take care to avoid this as much as possible. At many shrine Noh stages such as Yasukuni Jinja (靖国神社), there is a rear wall, so ordinary movements will not typically violate this taboo.
However, in special cases your back may face a kamidana (神棚) or shinden (神殿, inner sanctuary). Even if spectators are present, do not present your backside to the kamiza (神座); stand at an angle or turn sideways and handle it appropriately.
When you perform directly before the altar, the event is by nature a dedicatory offering, hounou-enbu (奉納演武). In that context, spectators are bystanders observing an offering to the divine. Your primary orientation is toward the kamiza (神座). Turning your backside to the divine simply to make it easier for spectators to watch is highly disrespectful and disqualifies one from standing before the kami.
3) Do Not Point the Tip at the Kamiza
One might think to face the kamiza (神座) so that the kami can clearly see the techniques, but pointing the kissaki (切っ先, blade tip) toward the kami is discourteous just as it is in normal etiquette. Leveling a sword at someone is fundamentally a hostile act. Therefore, even in a dedicatory performance, take care to avoid directing the tip toward the divine as much as possible.
4) Do Not Place Objects on the Kamiza
At the kamiza (神座), nothing should be placed except the sanctuary implements, offerings, and proper decorations. Therefore, if there is a kamidana (神棚), do not place belongings along that wall. Leaving training swords there “just for a moment” is extremely disrespectful.
An exception would be a formal sword rack placed and used in a way that is itself part of respectful decoration.
5) Conduct in the Worship Hall or Before the Sanctuary
In special shrine visits, tokubetsu sanpai (特別参拝 / 昇殿参拝) at places like Yasukuni Jinja, refrain from conversation as you proceed into the haiden (拝殿, hall of worship) (conversation is essentially taboo unless truly necessary). Do not run or make noise; maintain quiet composure.
Ordinary shrine worship involves ringing the bell and placing an offering coin at the box out front. By contrast, special worship (特別参拝) means removing your footwear, entering the haiden (拝殿), and—under the guidance of the priesthood—offering prayers right before the shinden (神殿). For such occasions, wear formal attire and avoid showy accessories. (Many shrines today, including Yasukuni, permit casual wear, but strictly speaking casual clothing is taboo for special worship, and some shrines will decline the visit on that basis.)
6) General Conduct on Shrine Grounds
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Offer a bow upon entering and leaving
At the torii (鳥居), bow lightly as a visitor. This is proper courtesy not only at shrines but whenever entering and leaving formal precincts. -
Avoid the center line — Seichuu (正中)
The seichuu (正中) is the center of the sando (参道, approach). People often say it is the path of the kami. Strictly, the kami dwell at or descend to the shinden (神殿) or kamiza (神座); the sando is literally the worshipper’s path. Still, out of respect, Japanese culture treats the center as significant, so one avoids walking on the exact center line. The width to avoid depends on the sando’s width, but as a rule stay off the middle. When you must cross the center line, give a small bow toward the sanctuary first. -
Purify at the water pavilion — Temizu or Chozu 手水)
Purify hands and mouth at the temizu-ya Chozu-ya(手水舎 ). (In ancient times, purification involved full ablution.) Sometimes the water is turned off or there is no pavilion; in such cases, omit the step. A stopped pavilion can be unsanitary and poses infection risk. -
Perform worship — Hai-rei (拝礼)
Ring the bell, offer a coin, and perform the standard two bows, two claps, one bow — ni-rei, ni-hakushu, ichi-rei (二礼二拍手一礼). If a shrine prescribes a different form, follow it.
Fundamentally, the shrine precinct is sacred space (Goshiniki 御神域), not a living room. Of course, shrines also serve as familiar community places, especially during festivals, and children often play there. But that is the exception for locals such as ujiko (氏子). Visitors from elsewhere should take care to express reverence.
Some Personal Experiences
Today, even in Japan, knowledge of these specifically Japanese forms of etiquette and aesthetics has faded, been forgotten, or is treated lightly.
Online, one can see many schools performing techniques or tameshigiri (試斬) with backs to a kamidana (神棚), or wildly swinging blades toward it. A kamidana is not mere decoration; it is a place for the deity to descend. Installing one in a dojo imposes the obligation to move with greater care. For example, overseas, when students line up facing a kamidana, I myself sit diagonally so as not to turn my back to it.
At the Kakio Budokan (柿生武道館)—a facility we used in the past (it has since closed and been demolished)—there was a kamidana. Even though we were only borrowing the hall, we used it weekly as the home ground of the Kakio (now Shinyurigaoka) branch. Still, we reserved sword bows, tourai (刀礼) for special times such as the New Year. However, when I visit another dojo that has a kamidana (神棚), I always offer hai-rei (拝礼) and perform tourai (刀礼). Paying respect to the kami who protect a host dojo is an important point of etiquette.
On a special occasion, we once offered enbu directly before the honden (本殿, main sanctuary). Some schools offered greetings and demonstrations facing participants and spectators, or swung their blade tips toward the goshintai (御神体). Only Tenshinryu and one other school both avoided pointing the kissaki (切っ先) at the kamiza (神座) and also avoided turning their backs. In the aisatsu koujou (挨拶口上), we alone angled ourselves to address the kami first, while also acknowledging hosts and spectators. Others spoke only to the humans present and did not even glance toward the kamiza. Before the enbu, as people chatted loudly without restraint before the altar, I waited in solemn silence. Afterwards, a priest said to us: “Only during Tenshinryu and that other school’s turn did I distinctly feel the presence of the kami.” Whatever one believes about the divine, eliciting such a feeling in a dedicatory enbu comes from knowledge, experience, and above all, a reverent spirit consistent with Tenshinryu’s teachings.
At another event, I was shocked to see performers leave baggage in the very shouchuu (正中) of the sando, lean swords against a stone lantern, and even draw a blade by wiping the saya (鞘を払う) in front of the haiden (拝殿). Sadly, some of our members imitated this and leaned swords on the lantern; I rebuked them sternly. It was shamefully disrespectful to the enshrined kami, to the priests, and to the local ujiko (氏子). Not surprisingly, the shrine’s representatives were angered, and no enbu has been permitted there since.
At one event, people took a commemorative photo with the haiden (拝殿) at their backs. Many shrines do not look kindly upon pointing cameras toward the kamiza (神座). Unless you have explicit permission, you should avoid such shots. Of course, there were no cameras before Edo times. But the goshintai (御神体)—the object in which the kami resides, an yorishiro (依代)—is, in many cases, not meant to be seen directly by the public. Usually the shinden (神殿) is separate and deeper within, and even during tokubetsu sanpai (特別参拝 / 昇殿参拝) it remains out of view. Japanese worship is grounded in a sense of awe, osore (畏れ). To point a camera at the sanctuary is thus an act bordering on fear-inspiring impropriety. If it must be done, obtain the shrine’s permission.
That event was during a festival period, but it was a small harvest festival for local farming ujiko (氏子). There were few visitors. The organizer of the hosting school said aloud, “It’s just a tiny local harvest thing. No one’s here. We scheduled enbu expecting crowds. What’s the point?” I was aghast. Publicly, one can say, “A dedicatory enbu is an offering of one’s cherished tradition and cultivated skill before the kami; the number of spectators is irrelevant.” In our hearts, of course we hope many will watch. But to voice such complaints is unforgivably rude for one privileged to offer before the kami. Ideally, our art should draw interest so that spectators become worshippers. If that does not happen, we should be ashamed of our own inadequacy, not complain.
After our enbu at Yasukuni Jinja, I told my disciples (monjin 門人) during the debrief (hanseikai 反省会), ‘We were watched by many today,’ yet they all looked puzzled, since it was early on a weekday and there had been few visible spectators. I asked, “You understand what I mean, yes?” None of the ten attendees did. I explained: “There are over 2,466,000 eirei (英霊, honored spirits of the war dead) enshrined here. We offered enbu before them. Please perform henceforth with awareness of the audience we truly had.” I was honestly shocked that our members had offered a dedicatory enbu without grasping this.
These are only a few of my real experiences. From the perspective of shrine priests (goshinshoku 神職), I am sure I myself have, at times, behaved discourteously. Even so, I have continually reflected, studied, and endeavored to observe proper etiquette so as not to give offense. If one does one’s utmost to act with sincerity and courtesy, and sets aside the arrogance of thinking ‘this should be good enough,’ one’s conduct will naturally become more refined.
Of course, depending on the situation, there will also be cases that are unavoidable.
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For example, during practice it is difficult to keep swinging while completely avoiding the direction of the kamidana (神棚) or to guarantee that you never turn your back to it; trying to do so prevents you from focusing on training. Likewise, during enbu (演武) there will inevitably be moments when the blade passes toward the kamiza (神座), and depending on the technique you may even end up with your back to it. The etiquette explained above is ultimately a matter of doing one’s best; within sincere consideration, instances of force majeure fall within what can reasonably be permitted. The real problem is that many Japanese themselves—and even practitioners and instructors of Japanese martial arts who should know these things—do not know them, do not value them, and fail to uphold the first principles.
Sadly, even among Japanese who are thought to know their own culture well—especially practitioners and instructors of koryu bujutsu (古流武術)—an overwhelming majority do not know these things.
By contrast, people connected with shrines and similar institutions often assume: “Because they study budo (武道), they must be a gathering of individuals whose spirit has been elevated—surely unlike the average person—and therefore they will at least observe basic etiquette and show reverence toward the kami and hotoke (神仏). That is precisely why they have come to offer an enbu (演武).” And, as a natural consequence, both Japan’s martial artists and traditional martial arts (dentō bujutsu 伝統武術) themselves have come to be disliked.
In reality, however, contrary to such expectations, we too often see the disappointing situations like those I described above.
Of course, people in Edo times varied too. Some were devout; others were indifferent. But as a general tendency, the average level of faith and observance of etiquette was far higher than today.
Consider this: you decide to build a game console. You make a chassis that looks identical, paint it identically, and make a matching controller. Will it play games? Obviously not. There is no inside.
Can you truly understand and embody the martial arts of the past while neglecting the mindset and bearing of a warrior of that era? Again, the answer is no. It becomes an empty shell—an imitation console that does not even power on. Sadly, the world is full of such things today.
Why, then, was Tenshinryu (天心流) chosen for a game? There are flashier schools that spin and leap, martial-arts-like dance forms, and stage combat designed for film. There are even schools claiming to be the real thing because they are ‘simple.’ Yet the creators did not choose those. They chose Tenshinryu. They told us, “We examined many things. Most did not feel authentic to us. Tenshinryu was the only one that did.”
To represent techniques that are not empty words but worthy of a transmitted tradition, we must understand and practice down to these levels of etiquette and spirit.
Closing Note
The above is meant to help Western readers grasp why Tenshinryu places such importance on kamiza (神座) etiquette. Even if one’s personal faith differs, the etiquette itself is an educational vehicle for cultivating respect, composure, and awareness of place—qualities at the heart of traditional martial arts practice.
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