YOUR HANDS MUST HAVE EYES

 by Phillip Starr

Some time ago, I was teaching more senior students how to strike certain vital points. One of them was located on the upper arm and when hit correctly (using the second knuckle of one finger), the strength on that affected side of the body vanishes and the opponent is unable to continue the fight. Striking this point isn't particularly dangerous if practiced under supervision, however.

One student had quite a bit of difficulty striking the point...he kept missing. I told him what my teacher told me many, many years ago; “Your hands must have eyes.” Of course, I was confused when he first spoke those words. But over time, I came to realize their truth. It required a great deal of practice with live partners (no, nobody was ever injured during such practice sessions) until it seemed that my hands “knew” exactly where to go, as if they could actually “see” the points.

Numerous gong-fu styles, particularly southern forms such as white crane, dragon boxing, white eyebrow, and southern praying mantis, are designed for very close-quarters combat. Many of their strikes are very short-distance techniques, intended to strike certain vital points. Learning to issue any substantial power with such short-range blows requires a great deal of special training; even more is required if one hopes to have hands that “see” the vital points, and strike and hit the mark without the slightest hesitation.

This same skill can and should be developed with martial disciplines that utilize longer-range techniques.

COMMONALITIES

 by Phillip Starr

“The stroke is executed by cutting back and then down”, is the teaching given in an ancient scroll, “followed by a swift, slight rise to the right like the movement of striking with a whip.”

Another scroll, almost equally antique, contains poetic (as well as enigmatic) about the practitioner's state of mind, likening it to a “flower scattering, falling without a sound upon moss, a flower scattering to be heard through the depths of the mountains.”

Only those unaquainted with the paradoxes of art and the cultures of China, Japan, and Korea would be surprised to learn that the first commentary is concerned with the gentle skills of calligraphy and the second to the art of swordsmanship. At the core, the particulars of instruction, the matters of effectuation contained in these two old scrolls are secondary to learning either art. It's the underlying principles, in a broad range of different arts of the culture – fine, folk, performing, and martial – are fundamentally synonymous. And these principles are vital to the mastery of any and all of them.

The actor in the Japanese Noh drama or Beijing Opera strives to make his way across the stage without a gap in his concentration and without a single superfluous movement. There is a sense of self and place surrounding the actor that is perfectly understood by the warrior in the perilous arena in which he performs.

The musician playing the shakuhachi (Japanese flute) or the Chinese pipa plays from his or her body's center and perfects his/her breathing; the Japanese swordsman strikes from his center and perfects his breathing because the efficacy of his blow is assured by proper attention being given to his respiration. The goals differ but the attitude is the same.

But it's not only in some technical details that the varied endeavors of these arts converge. From flower arranging to tea ceremony to archery, the aesthetics, the spirituality, and the motivations of these seemingly disparate arts have a wonderful commonality. The unity of these artistic forces is exemplified in two disciplines, seemingly discreet but at the very heart of Japan and China; the Way of the sword and the Way of the brush.

THE CIRCULAR STAIRWAY

 by Phillip Starr

The students had completed the rigorous examination for sandan (3^rd grade black belt). The board of instructors had completed their assessments and the group stood at attention before their teacher. “You have all performed very well. You have passed the test.” The students all smiled, some looking at the others and winking. “You have taken a big step forward”, the teacher continued, “Now, I hope you will all take a step back.”

The group was understandebly confused. It's understandable that we tend to view all of our undertakings in a linear fashion. That is, we think that our work, our learning, our relationships...everything that we try to accomplish in life, will progress in a series of straight steps that move us forward and upward as we continue. We begin school in the first grade and then move on to the second. Military personnel “go up through the ranks”, businessmen “climb the corporate ladder” and we all take things “step by step.” And we take it for granted that the progression follows a straight path. The second-grader doesn't expect to have to repeat the simple printing of the letters of the alphabet; the newly-promoted Colonel would be chagrined if he was told he had to practice close-order drill again with some new recruits, and the new corporate VP would be considerably less than thrilled to find himself having to learn simple secretarial chores. So, you can understand the newly-promoted sandans wondering why they had to go back and practice things that they'd learned in the earliest stage of training.

“Jiben” (in Japanese, “kihon”) are the fundamentals of all the martial Ways; the foundation upon which all other skills are based. But most martial arts enthusiasts see them as simple stepping stones, I think. The karate or taekwondo enthusiast must first learn the basics of a solid stance so that he can learn to execute well-balanced kicks...and then leaping kicks, and then against multiple assailants. He sees the basics as the first step in the process. But if he thinks that once a basic thing is learned, he can go on and never give it a second thought...he is sorely mistaken.

The martial Ways are an exception to the linear, step-by-step, vertical staircase concept of progress. Rather, they are like a circular, spiral staircase. But although you're moving in a circular, winding manner, you still moving UPWARD. When the advanced kendo practitioner comes to class and discovers that the evening's lesson will be on the basic overhead strike, he needn't be disappointed in having to do THAT again...not if he's smart. It's not like going back to the beginner's class where he was first introduced to this technique. Although he is repeating the same technique he learned as a newbie, he understands that he's progressed several flights up the staircase and he will be discovering new insights about this basic technique that are way over the head of a new recruit.

And he will continue to learn new angles (little “tweaks”) for as long as he continues training. He'll make new discoveries...”Hey, I never noticed THAT before! So that's how this strike should be done!” He's made another revolution around the spiral staircase. He's undergone a change. The strike hasn't necessarily changed, but his understanding and mastery of it have progressed. So, always be ready to take a step back. It's the only way to get ahead in the martial Ways.

BLACK BELT? HOW LONG...?

 by Yang Shuangxing

If I had a dollar for every time a prospective student asked me how long it would take him to earn a black belt, I could have retired a lot sooner. My usual knee-jerk response was that for about six bucks (belts were much cheaper back then), I could have one for him in about ten days...

Of course, that wasn't what he wanted to hear. For those who I felt were seriously interested but simply ignorant, I would explain it to them in this fashion: All things being “average”, which included his or her fitness level, coordination, intelligence...and attending class an average of three times each week, the average time was usually about 3-4 years. However, if any of the involved factors weren't average, the whole equation changed.

I have known a good many instructors who were very surprised at my answer. “Only THREE OR FOUR years? Why, in my school it usually takes about TEN years...” They were always surprised to learn that, in Japan, the average time required to reach shodan was three to four years (bear in mind that the Chinese systems, at that time, provided no ranking system at all). They misunderstood the whole concept of shodan, believing that receiving the coveted black belt indicated that one was an “expert” of some kind. This notion originated in the West and is a far cry from how the grade is considered in the East.

The idea of issuing black belts to senior students originated in judo. Dr. Kano (the founder) determined that it would be a good way to distinguish seniors from juniors and the more junior students could easily identify those who could assist them. It was never intended to indicate that anyone was an “expert”, whatever that is. In time, kyu (junior) belts of various colors came to be.

Shodan means “first grade.” That's all. Nothing fancy. It means that you have learned the fundamentals and can perform them correctly, more or less. Kind of like a high school diploma. In arts such as karate, the average time required for this (all things being average and attending class three times weekly) is about three years. In Japan the grade of shodan in arts such as iaido may be achieved after one or two years of training. Of course, no special colored belt is worn. A certificate is awarded and that's it. When I see someone who claims to be an iaido practitioner sporting a colored belt (especially if it's worn on the outside of the hakama), I strongly suspect that an overactive ego is involved. It is the first grade given to adults; kyu grades are for children. Only after iaido began to become popular in the U.S. were kyu grades given to adults. Kind of changes your perspective, doesn't it?

I have met instructors who, as part of the shodan examination, require participants to undergo extremely rigorous physical exercises...some of these would make a Navy SeAL blush. Such fanfare isn't seen in Japan as part of an examination. Students may engage in vigorous physical conditioning exercises as a part of training, but not as a part of an examination.

To keep things in proper perspective, there are minimum time requirements for grades beyond shodan. A minimum of two years after receiving shodan is required before a promotion to nidan (2^nd grade black belt). Three years after nidan before sandan (3^rd), and so on. To receive a godan (5^th grade) requires considerable time! Just do the math. In Japan, you won't find any (legitimate) twenty year-old godans... Nor will you find any shodans or nidans acting as chief instructors of schools. There was a time when one had to reach a minimum grade of yondan (4^th grade) before one would be permitted to have his or her own school.

Gong-fu has never utilized colored belt grades because they were, for the most part, originally taught within the confines of one's family and everyone knew who was who and how skilled everyone was. Times change, however, and nowadays these arts have grown far beyond the boundaries of blood kin. I feel, as do many other gong-fu instructors, that a grading system of some kind is desperately needed. The All-China Sports Federation (of mainland China) instituted upper-level grades some time ago (known as “duan”), but achieving such grades requires performances of various modern wushu routines. For traditionalists, this was (and still is) regarded as unsuitable. I agree with them.

So, many different schools of traditional gong-fu have adopted their own grading systems. I would prefer to see them somehow become standardized as has been done in the different styles of karate but I doubt it'll happen in my lifetime.

BEGINNING AGAIN

 by Phillip Starr

In 2015 at the age of 66, I had the chance to study iaido (the art of drawing and cutting with the Japanese sword). I'd wanted to learn this special art since I was very young but back in those days, there weren't many iaido teachers in the U.S. When the art gained more popularity, I was still unable to study the art; the instructors lived on the coasts and I resided in the Midwest! Just my luck...

Life goes on, despite our disappointments and I taught gong-fu for several decades before meeting the gentleman who would offer to teach me iaido. I was thrilled! NOW, after all these years, I'd get to train in this art! And I dove in head first!

I was a beginner again, and that was okay (no, I didn't give up practicing gong-fu; I just started something new in addition to my “wife” art). I thought I had some idea of how to handle a katana (Japanese sword) properly...until I took up iaido. It took me at least two years just to figure out how to grip it properly. Even now, after more than four years of practice, I still foul it up now and then. Not only that, but the footwork is considerably different as well.

The katana is employed in a manner that is very different from Chinese swords. My favorite has always been the broadsword, but decades of practice with that weapon did me no good at all when I picked up a katana.

My teacher was a very patient man and that was fortunate for me. I've never been a quick study. He gently corrected me even after I'd made the same error a thousand times! 

Some people have asked me about beginning again, especially in an art that is so different from the ones I've been practicing for over seven decades. I tell them that it's really very enjoyable being a novice again. You're never too old to start something new...

WHEN IS IT GOOD ENOUGH?

 By Yang Shuangxing

You're in class and practicing the basic reverse punch. Again. God only knows how many reverse punches you've thrown since you started learning karate/gong-fu/taekwondo and you've been doing it for several years now. WHY do you have to keep practicing this fundamental technique? You can perform it very well...so, just WHEN will it be good enough that you can dispense with this boring practice?

Never.

The legendary masters of various arts and styles were all known to practice basics every day. Moreover, they weren't simply “lobbing” them out there; their mind were wholly focused on each and every technique. Moreover, according to my teacher, Master W. C. Chen, each had to be executed as if your life depended on it. This doesn't mean that they're performed with a lot of “oomph”, however.... each one one must be sharp and precise with a feeling akin to releasing an arrow from a bow.

Don't compare yourself with others as you practice. You are training for only one person...yourself. And remember, “practicing the basics”involves more than fundamental punches and kicks. It also involves stance and footwork, methods of body shifting, breathing techniques, and elementary form(s).

WHAT DOES YOUR POSTURE SAY (and cause)?

 By Phillip Starr

The next time you or your students (if you're an instructor) practice freestyle sparring, look closely at and study their fighting stances. Remember that the mind expresses itself through the body; the BODY IS AN OUTWARD REFLECTION OF THE MIND. The stance can tell you important things about the person who's standing in it. For instance;

• Are his hands held in close to his body or extended outwards towards his opponent? In the former, it's a sign of fear; he's afraid he may get hit and he's unconsciously bringing his hands inward (close to him) as protection. He doesn't really want to engage his opponent. A sudden attack may well overwhelm him because both his hands AND HIS MIND AND SPIRIT are withdrawn, focused on himself rather than on the opponent.

  

• Look very closely at his hips. Are they straight oe even thrust very slightly forward? Or...are they slightly pulled back? Only an experiencd, seasoned instructor will see it. If the hips are withdrawn – even a little – it's a sign of fear. It's an unconscious attempt to protect the reproductive organs. Oddly enough, it happens more frequently with women than men.

  

• Is her chin raised up a bit? That's a sign of fear; an attempt to pull the head and face back out of range of a sudden attack.

  

• Is she standing straight-legged or nearly so? This is often an indication of either fear or poor instruction. In her mind, it readies her for quick “flight.” If the knees are more bent with the hips held a bit lower, it implies a willingness to fight.

  

There several other indicators, but I think you get the picture. However, it must be borne in mind that not only are these indicators signals of the condition of the mind (fear)...they also REINFORCE AND EVEN CAUSE THE MENTAL CONDITION, which, in this case is fear. And if the opponent is fearful, he is in a condition known as “kyo” in Japanese (“ko” in Chinese); there's a chink in his armor...a flaw/weaknee that can be exploited. A sudden, explosive attack may well overwhelm him. His mind and spirit are in disarray and withdrawn.

And because his mind is withdrawn, which includes his “yi”, or intention. Because qi follows yi, his qi – his vital energy – is also withdrawn, making him that much weaker.

Just as your posture affects your mind, so also does your mind affect your posture! Remember - “body and mind are inseparably united.” Why? Because they are the same and one reflects and expresses the other.

“So”, you might ask, “If that's true, can fear be reduced by correcting the posture?” The answer is YES! Correcting the mind is largely useless if the body isn't also corrected. So, correct the body first and the mind (and spirit) will follow.