THE BUILDING BLOCKS...USING THEM THE RIGHT WAY

                                                           by Phillip Starr

     I recently had a discussion with one of my senior students about why the vast majority of karate and gong-fu styles don't do their forms and fight in the same way at all, and how correct, traditional training builds a “bridge” between those two aspects of martial arts.  These are two different subjects (although they're closely related), so let me discuss them separately.

Westerners (Americans, in particular) tend to:

• Reject anything that causes discomfort.

• Be hobbyists.

Now, there's nothing wrong with not liking discomfort. BUT some things in life do just that…they cause some measure of discomfort. And to wholly reject them out of hand so that we can always be cozy and comfy comes at a rather high price. For instance, our ancestors (not very long ago) had to make their own bread. “Too much work”, we thought...so now we have factory-made bread-which tastes nothing like the original at all, nor is it particularly nourishing.

Your grandparents (and my parents) endured the deprivations of the Great Depression, WWII, and other really tough times. There was plenty of discomfort and inconvenience to go around for everyone. They decided that their children would never have to suffer such hardships and the result was that we were brought up always being very comfy and cozy (most of us, anyway). And lazy. So, now we suffer the health (both physical and mental) consequences. We love “instant” things (like microwavable dinners and instant tea) as well as whatever is “new and improved”, which is rarely the truth.

Learning traditional martial arts is something that is often VERY uncomfortable, even painful! So, many instructors changed the way they teach and now advertise classes that are “Fun for the whole family!” Our martial arts forefathers certainly didn't go to training to have fun, nor did they expect it. Even today in Japan, you dare not let your instructor hear you say that you “had fun” in class! Believe me, you won't make that mistake twice...

And we love our hobbies. Certainly, there's nothing wrong with having hobbies, but when you come to regard your martial arts practice as a hobby and train in that way, it's a problem. Again, our martial arts ancestors definitely didn't think of training as a hobby! They didn't practice just once or twice a week; they practiced every day!

Then there’s the training problem…most teachers don’t understand or utilize routines like 3-step fight (if they use it at all) or 1-step fight. NEITHER OF THESE EXERCISES WERE/ARE MEANT TO TEACH YOU HOW TO FIGHT! Rather, they are designed to teach and sharpen certain things that will be of great help when you get to the actual fighting training.

3-Step Fight is rarely taught anymore in the West. The instructors think it’s too boring and fear that students will quit. Actually, it’s much, much more than that. First and foremost, it teaches you about DISTANCE (much more so than 1-step). Beyond that, it also teaches the fundamentals of proper TIMING and RHYTHM. Just how this was done is largely forgotten but it I clearly shown in my book, MARTIAL MANEUVERS.

1-Step Fight is intended to teach you how to properly apply the various techniques of your art. But if you have no understanding of what is taught in 3-Step, it’s really pointless. Too many schools nowadays skip 3-Step altogether, allow the students to practice 1-Step for a short time, and then jump right into sparring! This is one of the main reasons why martial arts in the West have deteriorated. Students start sparring within the first couple of months of training! I don’t allow it for at least a full year after they begin training; oftentimes, it’s longer than that.

After 3 and 1-Step have been thoroughly practiced, students are introduced to Freestyle develops fighting skill. 1-Step, which is the bridge between form and actual fighting. THIS is the practice exercise that develops fighting skill. I have posted several articles on this subject previously. Sadly, this marvelous training exercise is being tossed aside nowadays; students want to hurry up and practice Freestyle Sparring. In the past, most schools didn’t engage in Freestyle Sparring at all. They felt it was unnecessary for the development of genuine fighting skill and could lead to the development of bad habits and sloppiness. Freestyle Sparring didn’t exist until after WWII – the great masters of the past who we admire and who possessed extraordinary fighting ability NEVER SPARRED AT ALL! Huh. Go figure…

THE TRUTH OF THE ART OF WAR

 by Phillip Starr

Sun-Tzu was a Chinese military general, strategist, philosopher, and writer who lived during the Eastern Zhou period, 771 to 256 BCE. He is credited with authoring the book, “The Art fo War”; a military class that is now utilized by military forces around the world (it is even studied at academies in the U.S., such as West Point and Annapolis), and even Wall Street!

An important saying from this book is often quoted by martial arts teachers everywhere; “Ig you know yourself and your enemy, you will be victorious.” However, this is not the full saying; two crucial lines have been forgotten. The full precept tell us:

“If you know neither yourself nor your enemy, defeat is inevitable.

If you know only yourself or your enemy, the odds are even.

If you know both yourself and your enemy, you will emerge victorious.”

So what does “knowing the enemy” and “knowing yourself” really mean?

Knowing your enemy means a bit more than simple knowing who he is. It means knowing him in so far as combat is concerned:

• What is his objective; what is he fighting for?

• What is his disposition? That is, is he physically, mentally, and spiritually prepared and strong enough to engage you in combat? How determined is he?

• How far is he willing to go to ensure his victory? What sacrifices will he make? Is he willing to give up his life? What price is he willing to pay?

• What particularly vulnerable spots can you see in his posture?

• What tactics is known to use? Does he use them effectively? Are there any flaws in them?

• How well-seasoned is he? Has he done this before? If he was victorious, how did he achieve it? Did he exhibit any weaknesses/flaws?

• What are his strongest areas of expertise?

• What weapons does he possess? Which ones does he rely on the most? Are they adequate?

• How powerful are these weapons?

• How far can these weapons reach out and strike you? What is their range?

• What are his biggest weaknesses? Not just physical things, but also mental and spiritual.

  
  
  

And you must thoroughly know these same things about yourself. You mustn't What price will he willingly pay? Don't simply shrug and say, “Yeah, I've got it”; you must take time and study each of these items as they apply to you in depth!

Only when you know both yourself (very thoroughly) and your enemy can you hope to emerge victorious.

ARE YOU PREPARED?

 By Phillip Starr

For those who believe that the way they’re practicing gong-fu, karate, or taekwondo is providing them with real-life self-defense skills, I have a surprise.

You may be, and likely are, very wrong.

Actual self-defense may well be very different from what you imagine, and hence, train for. The first major consideration is DISTANCE. Almost all real self-defense situations occur at very close range; there’s no time (or adequate distance) to set up in a nice-looking fighting stance. Stand facing your training partner and stretch out your arm so that you can touch him. THAT distance (and often closer than that) is the distance where real self-defense happens. The attack comes out of nowhere…it’s very often preceded by a push or a grab, and then BANG! You’re hit. No time to back away or perform any fancy movements. So if you favor using really nifty-looking kicks, you’re in a very bad place. My friend, Master Seiyu Oyata (10^th dan Okinwan karate, dec.), demonstrated…walking up to his partner and stopping about 4 ft. away, he smiled and said, “This (distance) for sport, for fun”… Then walking up quite close to his partner, he said, “This self-defense!”

So your self-defense techniques should be practiced at this distance…from a natural standing position. You will quickly discover that freestyle sparring is NOT essential for developing genuine self-defense skills. It helps develop some things that are useful in self-defense such as timing, rhythm, and so on – but overall, it is of little use in real combat. Remember that our current version of sparring evolved from the culture of Japan, where many people once carried and fought with swords. There’s a considerable difference in “fighting distance” when you and your enemy are armed with 3 foot razor blades…

And when the attack comes, it comes in multiples. Nobody is going to throw a single punch and then stand there, looking into your beautiful eyes. The same is true of grabs. Punches are thrown in flurries (unless you break in and stop them). The head and face are the preferred targets.

There’s no need to try to land a decisive blow right away. You need to stop the attack long enough to give you the opportunity to do that. A solid slap to the tip of the nose (keeping the fingers loose so they can flop down towards the eyes) works very well. Not only is it very painful, but it causes the sinuses to go all off-kilter; the enemy’s eyes tear up instantly and he can’t see clearly…there’s pain and blood and confusion. And lots of time for you to deliver a deliberate, powerful strike…and it better be strong! And remember there are no rounds, no rules at all, no referees, and NO ONE is coming to help you.

Now, I’m not saying that things like 1-step, 3-step, and freestyle sparring are worthless. Far from it! But bear in mind that these are training EXERCISES. They foster the development of things you’ll need for real self-defense; a fine sense of distance, timing, rhythm, how to apply various techniques, and so on.

To become skilled at real self-defense, you have to train for it! And the single biggest consideration that practitioners forget about is DISTANCE. Nobody is going to stand 4-6 feet away from and move in to attack; real attacks begin at arm’s length OR LESS. Now train for it!

WHEN YOUR HAND GOES FORTH....

 by Phillip Starr

Humans are certainly very emotional creatures. From the moment we enter this strange, uncertain world until we take our last breath, we experience many different emotions. These range from feelings of love and affection to happiness, sadness, grief, jealousy, greed, and anger, just to name a few. As devoted practitioners of the martial ways, we strive to free ourselves of what we consider “negative” emotions while doing our best to regulate those on the “positive” list. At least that's how many of us see it. To some extent, it's correct...but on the other hand, we have to be careful that we're not turning ourselves into some kind of creature that looks human but which is void of feelings.

For all of us, there are some things that really raise our ire and that's okay. However, we have to learn to control our feelings so they don't take control of our minds and spirits. In the Japanese martial ways we sometimes hear the expression, “mizu no kokoro”, which translates roughly as, “mind like water.” If we look into a pond of still water, the reflection we see will be accurate. However, if ripples appear, the image becomes distorted. The bigger the ripples, the greater the distortion. In the practice of the martial arts we strive to keep the mind calm, like the surface of undisturbed water. Uncontrolled emotions act like pebbles that are tossed into the pond. The more severe the emotion, the larger the “pebble.” Some emotions, such as anger or fear, can become so large that they act like large boulders that crash into the “pond and produce large waves!”

When the water is distorted by ripples (or waves), we can't see clearly and hence, our judgment is clouded. Our actions and reactions may be altogether inappropriate. This brings to mind a story about a young, hot-tempered Okinawan man who had taken up karate. With time and lots of practice his skill increased and as his skill continued to increase, his teacher would give him advice from time to time. On one occasion, his instructor reminded him, “When your hand goes forth, withhold your temper. When your temper goes forth, withhold your hand.”

One night when the young man quietly entered his home (being careful not to awaken his wife), he saw two shadows on the screen that separated the bedroom from the rest of the house. One silhouette was that of his wife, but whose was the other? He studied the figure and determined that it was another man!!! He was furious; his temper flared and he began to advance towards the bedroom, intent on killing the other man. It was then that his teacher's words came to him...”When your hand goes forth, withhold your temper. When your temper goes forth, withhold your hand.” Gritting his teeth, he walked into the bedroom.

His wife looked up and smiled. The young man's uncle was sitting beside her. “I asked your uncle to stay here until you returned,” she explained. “I am afraid to be in this house alone at night.” The young man smiled and thanked his uncle for his kindness. He realized that had he given play to his temper, the results could have been disastrous.

A good friend of mine who often competed in karate tournaments developed a fine tactic for unnerving his opponents; after they had exchanged bows and squared off, he'd blow a little kiss at the other competitor. Oftentimes, his opponent became angry and would attack aimlessly, intent on knocking the little pipsqueak to the floor! But my friend was very skilled and was expecting such a reaction. As they drove in with their attacks, he'd easily evade them and respond with a powerful counter-attack and win the match.

I've also known people who have especially bad tempers and they're proud of the fact, as if being ill-tempered is a positive thing. They don't understand that this is actually a character flaw, a weakness that must be brought in under a tight reign and controlled. Otherwise, they allow their emotions to control them and that's a luxury that the serious martial arts practitioner simply cannot afford.

WHAT'S NEXT?

 By Phillip Starr

How often have you heard a student or classmate utter these two words or something similar; “What's next?” This expression is usually made shortly after the speaker has learned a particular kata or training routine and it is clear indication that he hasn't truly learned much at all. My kneejerk response would be a quick backhanded slap across the face but I fear that this zen-like answer would elicit nothing more than anger.

Consider; there must come a time when, in any given style, there are no more techniques to learn. There are no more forms. If a student stays with it long enough, he'll eventually reach this point in his training. And some will ask, “What's next?” Some will assume that they've finally “learned it all” and look for another teacher. Theirs will be a shallow art. Perhaps they will find a new teacher and begin again. Little do they suspect that this is exactly what they would do if they remained in my class; they would go back to the beginning and start over. However, if they'd been paying attention and developing as they should have, they'd see things from a completely new perspective.

For instance, once a student has reached the level of first-grade black belt I tell him that he must learn how to punch. This usually evokes considerable surprise. “I have to learn how to...punch?”, the student asks.

“Yes”, I answer. “Up to this point, you have been developing proper coordination and learning how to make the larger movements. Now you must learn to make the movements smaller and learn how to properly apply the technique.”

Little does the student suspect that once he learns to do these things, he will begin all over again. He must learn to condense all of the movements; he must make everything very small, as it were. And so it goes, on and on. We go full circle only to repeat the process over and over.

There is much more to these cycles of learning than students imagine. It is a process of polishing which, when you consider the meaning of the word, involves removing what is unnecessary. Some students try to enter into this stage much too early. The first cycle involves the construction of a “rough sketch”, so to speak. Once the initial image has been formed (which usually requires some considerable time) the polishing process may begin. However, the first stage of polishing involves the gross, outer movements. Once they have been refined, the subtle internal movements must be further distilled. The process can't be hurried lest the entire cycle be for nothing.

Moreover, the process of burnishing the technique is only a part of the whole operation. It is but one cycle and as I stated earlier, once one cycle has been completed another begins. When the technique has been adequately refined, the method(s) of application must then be further distilled. I see the young lady in the back waving her hand wildly. You ask if the processes of refining the technique and its application can be done at the same time? No, they can't. That'd be akin to trying to drive a race car before work has been completed on the engine. Don't be in a hurry.

And while you're working hard at polishing and distilling your technique, consider the effects this will have on your forms! No, the outer movements won't change but the way your kata feels will certainly be different. To the novice, your forms will look much the same as it always has but the subtle differences will be readily visible to those with eyes to see.

Ultimately, you must “forget” everything. This isn't to say that you should toss your technique and forms out the nearest window. Rather, you must train them until they become a part of you. You continue to practice them but you needn't struggle to remember what movement comes next. Some say that you have become the art. I disagree. You don't become the art, nor does the art become you. Such statements are indicative of separation; there's a “you” and the “art.” When you have truly internalized the art there is no longer a separation. It's like the fertilization of an egg; initially, there's an unfertilized egg and a sperm cell. They exist separately. Once they join, there is no longer an “egg” or a “sperm.” There exists a new creature. A new life. Thus, one plus one no longer equals two.

And then as you begin your new life, you start out as a beginner. Again.

WHAT ARE THE ODDS?

 By Phillip Starr

The legendary founder of Kyokushin karate, Masutatsu Oyama, said that for every 1,000 beginners, only 2 or 3 would make it to the grade of shodan (first grade black belt). Then he added that for every 100 shodans, only 1 or 2 would go on to the next grade. The numbers decrease further from there. Certainly, this has been my experience and I imagine that most martial arts teachers would agree wholeheartedly with him.

I remember when I first began my journey along the martial path more than five decades ago. I, as well as many others, understood that getting a black belt meant that one was truly an m”expert.” I even heard, and my father firmly believed, that to be awarded a black belt, you had to literally kill a man with your bare hands! Of course, there were the many old wives tales such as having to register your hands with the police, and so on.

Although such beliefs have now been proven false, many of us still hold on to some of their remnants. In the Occident, the color of black is foreboding, ominous, the color of death. Oddly enough, mourners in the Orient wear white. Nonetheless, there is that nasty notion, that tiny remnant of times gone by, that pushes us to believe that a “black belt” signifies that one is a martial arts “expert.” In this regard, it's well to remember that the famous American poet, Walt Whitman, defined this term as “anyone who can spit over a boxcar.”

As most of you know, the truth is far different. When a student reaches the level of shodan, it indicates that he has acquired some measure of skill with the fundamentals. He has built a solid foundation upon which he can now build real skill. That's a nice way of saying that he is now ready to learn. Prior to this level, he was not physically, mentally, or spiritually prepared for learning the real art. Now he is. He has graduated from “high school” and is ready to enter college.

To get through “high school”, however, requires an extraordinary amount of courage and grit. The training is often very painful, tedious, and requires a great deal of dedication. Few are those who will succeed in making it to the “first step”, which is roughly what “shodan” means. Unfortunately, many new shodans, thinking that they've “made it” (whatever that means), stop training. This is regrettable because they'll never learn the true art. They've built a good foundation but they'll never erect a strong building upon it.

Those few worthies who possess a strong spirit will continue their training; their thirst for knowledge will push them to move further down the path. One by one, many of them will give up until there are only a very few left. Hopefully, these courageous souls will become teachers themselves and eventually realize the value of what their teacher gave them. He not only taught them the various techniques and forms and movements; he gave each of them a piece of himself, a bit of his heart and his very soul. If they determine to teach others, they will do the same. And as the years pass, they will watch sadly as so many of the pupils bid them farewell before graduating from high school. One of my students who began teaching spoke to me of this and I told him, “It's nothing new. It's always been this way. It always will. It's simply the nature of the beast (of teaching).”

But with each new shodan comes the prospect of a bright future. He or she is excited and hopeful and even moreso his/her teacher. But the old veteran instructor will sit back and smile as he says, “We'll see. We'll see...”

WUJI; THE STATE OF POTENTIAL

by Phillip Starr

At the very beginning of any form, there is a brief period where you just stand still in a "natural" stance and relax. You're not "damp-rag" relaxed but you're not like a wooden soldier, either. In the internal schools of China (Taijichuan, Xingyichuan, and Baguazhang) this is known as the state of "wuji" (also, "wu-shi") and although most contemporary practitioners tend to ignore it, it's really a very important part of the fo...rm. In fact, it's so important that if you don't do it right, your entire form is wong Other martial arts - from aikido to karate to iaido - also use this concept and "positioning" but they call it by different names.

To understand how to stand correctly in wuji, you have to dig into the fundamental concepts of Chinese cosmology. You're all familiar with the double-fish diagram of the Taiji ("Tai-Chi"). Yin and Yang. Yin represents the negative polarity and Yang is positive, although each one contains an element of the other - the potential to turn into the other. Extreme Yin eventually becomes Yang and extreme Yang turns into Yin.

It is said that when the universe was created, that's when Yin and Yang were created (the stage of Taiji was created) and gave birth to the "ten thousand thing" - which, in ancient Chinese terminology - means "everything."

But what existed before the creation of Yin and Yang? What was there before the Big Bang?

Wuji.

The kung-fu teachers who first tried to teach their arts to Americans in a second language (Engrish) had a tough time trying to find the right
word(s) to define the state of wuji. Many of them settled on "nothingness" or even "vacuum." But using those words only created more confusion.

Their students would stand in the position/condition of wuji and just be "blank." Like a wet rag. No-thing. And that's not wuji at all.

Before the creation of Yin and Yang there was the condition of wuji but it wasn't "nothing." It wasn't a vacuum. You can't get "something" out of "nothing." And yet, what wuji is, is neither Yin nor Yang.

It is Potential. That is, it has the potential to expand outward and become something. It has the potential to explode into Yin and Yang.

I know this sounds like so much Oriental mumbo-jumb but listen up, Buckwheat.

When you stand at the beginning of your form you must be neither Yin nor Yang. You must be in (an imitation of) the state known as wuji. You aren't "empty." You have the potential to move and become something...

When an iaido practitioner kneels (in seiza) and prepares to execute a particular kata (form), he/she begins by relaxing and breathing down to the tanden (dantien). He/She makes three calm breaths before performing the first movement. During this time, he/she is not yet "performing the kata." There is the potential for movement but movement has not yet occurred. It is the stage of wuji.

If you think about the first movement (or any movement at all), if you think about what you're doing...it's not wuji because you're moving. Internally. And that's going to affect the way you begin - and finish - your entire form. Your body will be too tense or tensed in the wrong places, your mind is distracted and running ahead of where the body is, and your spirit is scattered. So is your qi. Remember that where your yi goes, your qi goes.

So reflect on this concept for a while and try to get a feel for what it is. Then apply it to your forms and the rest of your practice.

Potential.