STANDING AT THE DOOR

 by Yang Shuangxing

Quite a number of martial arts practitioners undertake the study of their chosen discipline in the hopes of following the “Way.” Most enthusiasts are primarily interested in self-defense or fitness, but there are those who seek more than just acquiring certain physical skills or shedding those nasty, unwanted pounds...they have heard of the “martial path” or “Way” and that's where they direct their intention. The truth is that none of them even suspect what is involved; if they knew what would be expected of them and what they were getting into, they'd likely never even begin.

The word “Way”, as it is used within the context of what we're considering is prounced “Dao” in Chinese, and “Do” (sounds like “dough”) in Japanese and Korean. However, in both Chinese and Japanese, it is written with the same character...道. It is often translated as “a path, a road”, but there's more to it than that. Much. More. “Do” refers to an art; a fine discipline that transcends the purely physical aspects of its dimension...aesthetic and spiritual dimensions underlie the the physical aspects.

The word “shu” in Chinese (“jutsu” in Japanese) is written “ 术” and is often translated as “art.” However, it actually refers to “technique” rather than “an art” of some kind. Thus, “jujutsu” refers to the outer technique only; it doesn't seek to go beyond that. So we have jujutsu, aiki-jutsu, kenjutsu (using the sword), karate-jutsu, and so on. Their interest is only in the arena of combat. Period.

A “do” seeks much more than that and is intended to develop the character and spirit of its adherents, as well as promoting the learning of combative aspects. And we have forms of “do” that have nothing to do with self-defense; chado (Japanese tea ceremony), kado (flower arranging), shodo (writing calligraphy with a brush), and a few others. To my mind, the “do” forms transcend the “jutsu” forms and take them to the next level and beyond.

It was/is the “do” forms that initiated the development of “grades.” We're all familiar with the dan/kyu system used in ranking martial arts adepts. This was first used in judo; most “do” forms eschew “kyu” ranks (in martial arts these are steps below black belt) and their first real grade is that of “shodan” (in martial arts, the first grade of black belt...but bear in mind that “shodan” doesn't mean “first degree black belt. It means simply, “first grade.”). Such grading is found not in martial ways, but also in other “do” forms- of course, they don't award or wear a black belt or any kind of outer sign of their grade; they simple present a certificate validating one's level of proficiency and understanding of the art. So yes, you can get dan rankings in flower arranging.

Some martial forms of “do” also don't use “kyu” grades; iaido, as it's practiced in Japan, is like this. The first actual grade one receives is that of shodan. Only in the U.S. do they use kyu ranking – in Japan, this is done only with children.

One who seeks to follow the “Way” is sometimes called “Mon Jin” in Japanese. It means “A person at the door”...referring to the “door” that is the entrance to the “Way.” One does not, however, even FIND this door until one has progressed beyond the grade of shodan; after all, a “Way” is a discipline that becomes a lifestyle. It's much more than just an activity that you practice (even if you do it regularly). It becomes a LIFESTYLE. There's a difference. If you don't understand what this means, you're a ways off from following a “Way.” And the door opens from the INSIDE. You cannot open it from the outside. It'll open of its own accord when you're ready...and not before. This is why older practitioners who DO follow a “Way” laugh at those (usually younger and much less experienced, skilled, and knowledgeable) practitioners who say that they want to follow a particular “Way.” To say such a thing is indicative of a lack of patience...which is one of the first requisites for entering through the door.

Moreover, one must have a teacher who is on the path of the “Way” one desires to follow. Such people do not advertise their skills to attract followers; they live their lives according to the “Way”to which they have devoted their lives. Finding such a person is very rare, especially nowadays...

MAKING THE BED...

 by Phillip Starr

It's something I do every day, within an hour after getting up. I make my bed. I've done this since I was a boy. I viewed a video of a speech given to a large group of college graduates by a Navy Admiral, who was involved in training our famous SeALS. He stressed the importance of making your bed. Every day.

It's much more than just keeping a part of your bedroom neat. It's a discipline; one that should be instilled in every child (and by the way, it's never too late to develop it yourself). Self-discipline is absolutely essential for developing real martial arts skill. A martial artist whose bed looks like something that was used to muffle a grenade probably possesses martial skills that look about the same. His uniform may look like he's slept in it for the last week, too. The lack of discipline is obvious and lack of discipline in one area (of life) easily bleeds over into all other facets.

So, am I telling you that you need to make your bed? Yes, I am. Discipline is discipline. Lack of one form of discipline leads to lack of many other forms of discipline. I know, I know...”Why bother making the bed? I'm just going to sleep in it again tonight.” Well, why bother washing your butt?

Build discipline. It's something that has be done almost constantly and oftentimes, it isn't a lot of fun. But it's important...especially if you want to become a truly skilled martial arts practitioner.

JUST THE RIGHT TONE

 by Phillip Starr

One of the anecdotes featured in my book, THE MAKING OF A BUTTERFLY, talks about how my sifu, Master W.C. Chen, chided one of my classmates about spending too much time training himself for, and playing, (flag) football. The young fellow was confused; how could “getting in shape” adversely affect his gong-fu training? Sifu explained that there's “getting in shape” and then there's “getting in shape” for a given activity. This very principle would be presented many years later in a book entitled Maximum Performance, authored by Laurence Morehouse and Leonard Gross.

Sifu Chen (and the book) explained how different exercises that may get you “in better shape” (especially for a particular sport) can be counter-productive to getting in shape for a different sport/activity. He used the analogy of stringed musical instruments... for instance, a guitar is tuned in the key of E. Not so with a violin or other stringed instruments. And so it is with our bodies; the muscles (and the nerves that control them) must be “tuned” or “toned” in the proper key...that is, for our primary sport/activity.

Many moons ago, I had a prospective student who had been the state powerlifting champion for two consecutive years. Of course, he was very powerfully built and enormously strong...in so far as lifting very heavy weights is concerned. But he couldn't stand in a horse-riding stance for more than 20 seconds without falling over! It certainly wasn't because his legs and hips were weak; they simply weren't “toned” for that kind of exercise. His attempts at learning to punch were even worse. I finally told him that he'd have to make a choice; lifting heavy weights for competition or martial arts. He did what was best for him and continued with what he was accustomed to doing. This isn't to say that weight lifting is contraindicated for martial arts. On the contrary, it is used, in one form or another, in most martial disciplines...but the weights aren't extremely heavy and emphasis is on repetitions rather than just one or two reps of lifting extremely heavy weights.

Enjoying a rousing game of basketball or football or any other activity won't impact martial arts training...but regular, repeated practice of exercises for another activity can. This is why the old teachers of the neijia (internal martial forms of China, such as taijiquan, xingyiquan, and baguazhang) frowned on students who engaged in training in “external” systems such as shaolinquan. It ruins the type of “muscle tone” that's required for the development of skill in the neijia.

All martial arts require the development of certain “toning” of various muscles and even tendons. They're not at all the same. A devoted karate practitioner might think he's “in shape” for kendo but if he jumps into a traditional kendo class, he'll quickly change his mind! Kyudo, taijiquan, taekwondo, judo...they all require the body and the muscles to be toned “just so.” This is true of all sports as well. A baseball pitcher needs a different tone to his body than a tennis player.

Just something to consider...

IS SPIRIT IMPORTANT?

 By Phillip Starr

In the martial arts, we often hear the word “spirit.” Does this refer to what we, as Westerners, refer to as “soul?” Or is it something else? The revered “Father of Japanese karate”, Gichin Funakoshi, stresse the importance of spirit and said that karate in meaningless without it. The founder of Kyokushin karate, Mas Oyama, and the legendary Yamaguchi Gogen (of Goju-ryu, known as “the Cat”) also spoke frequently of the importance of spirit.

The first thing that we have to get straight is that, in so far as martial arts are concerned, “spirit” does not refer to what Westerners refer to as the “soul.” Rather, it refers to an unbreakable, indominatable will that is as strong as case-hardened steel; the drive to persevere and succeed at all costs, the willingness to do what must be done to accomplish a particular goal; attitude. Without this, martial arts become little more than dancing.

It is, in a very real sense, the glue that holds the art and all of its movements together. It isn't something that you are necessarily born with. It must be forged and then tempered through arduous training, which is often painful as well as tedious. It has nothing to do with machismo, the show of bravado. Such things are only outward posturing and nothing more. Spirit is much more than that.

Don't misunderstand; spirit cannot make up for poor technique. The two must go together. They are to be forged together, not separately. There is a technical word for what you become if you engage an enemy in battle and move in with a strong spirit and strike him...and your technique bounces off. It is DOGMEAT. The same term applies if your technique is good but your spirit is weak. You'll fail to do what must be done when the “moment of truth” presents itself.

And spirit must be tempered with wisdom. An untempered spirit may lead you to attempt very foolish things, You may well fail. In battle, doing something stupid often meant/means death. This is known as a “dog's death.” You don't want that, obviously.

Every aspect of your daily training must be done with a strong spirit. When you practice your single basic techniques, don't just “lob” them out there; you must imagine striking a foe who will take your life if your technique is weak or incorrect. When you do your forms, are you just running through the movements like a robot? I see this frequently at competitions; participants do their forms with less spirit than they'd have if they were doing a fancy dance. There's no “feeling” there; no spirit at all. The form is actually very weak although it may be pleasing to the eyes. It has no life.

Good teachers foster the development of a strong spirit in their students through arduous training and even vigorous exercise routines. Standing in a horse-riding stance for extended periods has always been one of the most basic ways of doing this. When my students did it, I told them that falling down was okay; they could get back up and continue trying. “Fall down means weak legs and hips”, I said. “That's okay. We can fix that. Giving up means weak spirit. I can't fix that.”

IS MORE BETTER?

 By Phillip Starr

“More is better.” Although I'm tempted to say that this kind of thinking is exclusive to the West, I've seen it in the East, too. But seeing it applied to martial arts practice IS rare in the East, while it is all too common in the West. For instance, one of my students built a striking post to use at home during his daily practice. I had given him the proper dimensions but when he invited me to his house to see the finished product, I was a bit taken aback. He was using a 4x4” post! He'd simply wrapped rope around it, without using a pad of any kind. I struck it a couple of times and told him, “Looks like you've got a first-class tree here.”

He smiled and said, “I know you told me it should be no thicker than 1 inch at the top and it should be padded under the rope, but I figured this would be stronger and do the job.”

“What...job?”, I asked.

“Toughening my hands”, he answered.

Wrong answer. Way wrong. And I let him know it, using some very colorful adjectives, which I won't repeat here. The striking post is NOT intended to toughen the hands! He said that he'd reasoned that a solid post would work better than one that flexed when struck. The striking post is SUPPOSED to flex, but he'd ignored that and just figured that a solid, unmoving post would work...the “more is better” mindset.

Another student insisted on practicing with a very heavy, iron sword to strengthen his grip, shoulder, and forearm. But although I'd recommended doing it for rather short periods of time, he tripled it, hoping to shorten the process...and ended up with seriously inflamed wrists such that he was unable to practice again for a couple of weeks. More isn't necessarily better at all.

IF YOU WANT TO TEACH

 by Phillip Starr

So, you want to teach your particular martial art? If you do and you want to be a good teacher, there's a few things that you must do; obligations of a teacher...

• First, you must know your art very thoroughly; and not just the HOW. You must also know the WHY. The well-worn excuse of, “That's just the way we do it”, doesn't cut it. WHY do you do it that way? If you don't know, you need to find out.

  

• You must be able to transmit your art effectively. That means learning how to communicate with different people in different ways; never “talking up” to them, or “talking down.” Use words and phrases that they can easily understand. Corrections should be made in a way that is not offensive.

  

• You must always ARRIVE EARLY for class. Showing up late indicates a lack of interest in teaching and makes you appear to be uncaring about the students. Get in early and warm up!

  

• Your uniform should be clean and should NEVER look like you've slept in it for a week! Show that you have respect for both yourself and your students.

  

• The training hall (or whatever area you use) should be very tidy and clean. Many instructors teach in places that are shared with other groups, so the area may be a bit less than well-maintained when they arrive EARLY for class. If it's needed, it's their responsibility to clean the area before class. Students can clean the area afterwards.

  

• You absolutely MUST train regularly outside of class...NEVER use class time as your own training time! Not ever! You must continue to strive to polish your own skills. If you don't do it, how can you expect your students to do it? I'm a firm believer in “leading from the front.” Don't ask your students to do anything that you won't (or don't) do.

  

• You should study things like human learning, effective communication, and so on. And never forget how confused and uncoordinated you were when you started. Extend courtesy, understanding, and kindness.

  

• Remain humble rather than haughty...and be willing to learn from your students. They can be your best teachers. A teacher who cannot or will not learn from his/her students is in the wrong business.

  

• Remember – teaching, being a sifu/sensei is a PRIVILEGE.

  

And above all, you must truly CARE about your students. A little compassion goes a long way.