I RECOMMEND JUDO!

 By Phillip Starr

It is my opinion, for what it's worth, that the best martial art for a young person to learn initially is judo. Or shuai-jiao if it's available. Certainly, this must sound very strange coming from someone who is known as a kung-fu teacher but when I first stepped onto the martial path many eons ago, I began with judo. This isn't to say that one should not take up the study of karate or kung-fu and it certainly has nothing to do with one art being superior to the others, but I do suggest judo as a beginning point. I can see the young guy in the back waving his hand...either he has a severe case of intestinal distress or he has a question...

Ah, you want to know just WHY I recommend judo? Well hold on, Spanky. I'll lay it all out for you. The first consideration is that from the very beginning, judo (and other grappling arts) deal with one of the most basic human fears...falling. Face it; it's a basic fear that most humans have, even if they don't openly verbalize it. Children are very much afraid of it and older folks (like me) are terrified of it. If you think about it for a minute, you'll realize how true this is.

And one of the most important things that we do in our study of martial arts is directly face our innermost fears, starting with the most basic, simplest fears...like the fear of falling down. And we learn to deal with it. We MUST learn to grab this bull by the horns and bring it under control. We must, in fact, master it. Once that basic fear is mastered, we realize what we can do. We realize that WE create our own fears and only WE can overcome them. This has a lot more applications to life than just learning some simple breakfalls but at the moment we discover that we CAN fall down without injuring ourselves, at the moment that that fear falls from our shoulders, we are unaware of just what it really means. Later, our instructors should sit down and point it out to us...

Secondly, judo requires that you “close with the opponent” quickly and decisively. There can be no hesitation when you move in for the throw. This actually fosters the development of courage and a strong spirit. In karate, taekwondo, kung-fu, and a host of other martial disciplines, there is often no need to “close with the opponent.” You can easily maintain distance from him/her as you fire away with a barrage of kicks and punches. But that generally isn't how real self-defense works and if you're unable or unwilling to close with the enemy quickly, you're in a bad spot!

It's much the same in the military. Nowadays, troops are accustomed to sitting back at some distance and blazing away at the enemy. I remember the days when soldiers were well trained in close-quarters combat and dreaded the command, “Fix bayonets!” You knew you were about to look death in the face, up close and personal. But you'd swallow your fear, tighten your gut, and do it. And in combat, that's what it's all about...the willingness to close with the enemy, stare death in the face, spit in his eye, and do what has to be done.

Here endeth the lesson...

DRESS FOR SUCCESS

 by Phillip Starr

Many years ago there was a book named "Dress For Success", which enjoyed considerable popularity. The author (whose name I can't recall) noted, among other things, how one's attitude was affected by the manner in which one was dressed. It sounded a little weird but over the years, I found many of his assertions to be true and it's one of the reasons I insist on students wearing a proper training uniform.

In general, it can be said that the condition of one's practice uniform reflects one's attitude towards training. If it looks like a used Kleenex; if it's torn and in need of repair, or if the salt stains (from yesterday's sweat) haven't been washed out, it is a fairly accurate indication of how one regards oneself and one's training.

A student who pays a lot of attention to detail; who is a stickler for sharp technique and who aims at perfection will usually wear a uniform that is clean and pressed. You could almost cut your finger on the creases in their trousers.

At the other end of the spectrum is the student whose uniform has been wadded up and shoved into a practice bag for a couple of days. It has more wrinkles in it than an elephant's butt and his attitude towards training will tend to be lackadaisical. His technique and form often leans towards the sloppy...like his uniform.

And then, of course, there are a lot of in-betweens.

Training in street clothes is common in many internal Chinese schools and I think this actually has an impact on their (the student's) approach towards training. Casual. That's how they often regard it, but training time should be anything but casual. One must concentrate and give a full 100% of one's attention to it.

In the old days (and even in modern China) most training was conducted outdoors. People gathered in parks to practice (they still do!) and so they naturally wore their everyday street-clothes. That's why most kung-fu stylists wear shoes.

But I think this kind of thing has had a negative impact on (Chinese) martial arts. For one thing, street-clothes don't hold up very well to the rigors of strenuous practice. So, the teacher has a choice; he can water down the training so that the students don't damage their clothes (and maybe themselves), or he can go ahead and conduct a vigorous class and end up with a bunch of half-naked students.

Due to the heat and humidity (especially in southern China), many kung-fu stylists prefer to wear training trousers and tee-shirts. Such clothing won't hold up in our training. Tee-shirts don't stand up to grappling practice. There are some who will argue that "in a real fight your opponent won't be wearing a heavy practice jacket", and that's why they prefer tee-shirts. Okay. So let's do the techniques and grab the tee-shirts. Watch what happens. Or we can just grab meat and execute the throw. But then, a lot of students wouldn't be returning to class.

The reason the heavy jacket is worn is NOT to accommodate the thrower in the execution of his technique; it's to PROTECT the receiver - so the thrower doesn't have to grab a fistful of flesh in order to perform the throw.

If the receiver insists on wearing a tee shirt or regular street-clothes, it leaves the thrower in a quandary. Does he rip his partner's clothes to shreds? Does he dig into his partner's flesh to perform the throw? Or does he water down the technique? This is why I require all students to wear a full uniform in class.

However, the main thing is that the overall condition of the practice uniform is an indicator of the regard a person has for training and even for himself.

BEING DIRECT

 by Phillip Starr

I'm a firm believer in what I call the “direct approach” in so far as martial arts are concerned. This may come as something of a surprise to those who know me as a long time practitioner of the neijia (internal Chinese martial arts). I'll explain...

In so far as martial arts are concerned, I favor striking the opponent when his mind gives (his body) the command to commence the attack, which occurs just before he physically begins (the attack). This isn't some mystical skill; it can be learned through the rigorous practice of the proper training methods (a fine one is discussed in my book, MARTIAL MANEUVERS). There are very few “moving parts” and it were, so there's less chance of a “malfunction” as far as technique is concerned; less chance of something going wrong. Kind of like a machine (especially firearms); the fewer moving parts it has, the more reliable it is.

I like to be proactive rather than reactive, whenever possible. This may seem strange coming from a practitioner of the neijia. The neijia styles seem to be built for reactive applications and a good number of those are much more “involved” than they need to be. By that, I mean they have too many “moving parts”; “ step over here and seize the opponent's wrist, then turn and and step like this and do that, and then...” That's much more complex than it needs to be and the more complicated a response, the less likely it is to work. And although it may sound and look like it'll work, bear in mind that Mr. Murphy* is always near by. Complication and efficiency generally don't go together.

*Murphy's Law: “If anything can go wrong, it will...and at the worst possible time.”

BE CAREFUL WHERE YOU STEP!

 By Phillip Starr

The neijia style of baguazhang is known for several things; walking around the rim of a circle in various ways, coiling upper body movements, and palm maneuvers; indeed, the practitioner sometimes resembles a dragon swimming through the air. But there are techniques that aren't so obvious...

The bagua stylist often makes a toe-in step (kou-bu) or a toed-out step (pai-bu) as he maneuvers through his circular forms. These methods of stepping are often discounted out of hand, or unnoticed altogether. However, they are often used offensively, as my teacher often loved to demonstrate. As shown in the photos below, the foot can be hooked around the aggressor's foot to destabilize him or attack his knee by bending your knee. My teacher called this “leg biting” and it was painfully effective!

Baguazhang isn't the only art that features such a nasty type of technique. It can be seen in others, if you know where to look.

Bagua and numerous other percussive martial disciplines also teach (low level) kicks in their stepping routines; what appears to be normal step is sometimes applied as a kick to certain nerve points on the lower legs (or even the knees) of the opponent. Kicking into these points can cause considerable pain and can incapacitate an aggressor with very little effort.

Moreover, we are told that virtually any solid surface of the body can be used as a weapon. This is demonstrated in some Chinese styles that utilize strikes with the shoulder, the hips, and even the back!

So pay attention to the little things; things that you'd not normally notice. You may be surprised at what you learn!

IT ISN'T THE AGE THAT MATTERS, IT'S THE MILEAGE

 by Phillip Starr

Hardly seems fair; we train our bodies, pour buckets of sweat, grit our teeth in pain...and age still catches up with us. We may be able to slow its progress a bit, but it eventually falls upon us. But then, it's better than our other option... And I think there's certain advantages to it as well. When I was younger, I was enthralled with acquiring as much strength and speed as possible. I trained like a fanatic in my quest for martial prowess. I paid scant attention to much of what my teacher tried to tell me, particularly as it pertained to taijiquan and even baguazhang.

Almost imperceptibly, the years ganged up on me until I finally realized that I'd passed the peak of my speed and strength. I set about trying to FEEL what I was doing; to feel what was going on inside as well as outside. I soon discovered many things; many principles that my teacher had tried to pound (sometimes literally) into my head when I was younger. They didn't come all at once; just a piece here and there, like pieces of a puzzle. In assembling this puzzle, I sometimes lean back and smile, remembering his words and my youthful hard-headedness that prevented me from fully grasping what he was trying to convey.

Part of the problem, of course, was that although he was quite fluent in English, he simply lacked the vocabulary that was necessary to transmit certain concepts. For instance, words like fascia, tendons, and so on weren't a part of his usual English usage. And some things he simply couldn't verbalize – in English or Chinese (which I didn't understand in those days, anyway) – because, although he could experience certain internal feelings and demonstrate them, he didn't really KNOW the “why” of it. I doubt that his teacher knew, either. For instance, the use of the iliopsoas muscle (aka. “psoas”) in executing certain postures was something they couldn't clarify because they weren't that familiar with human anatomy and how it all works together. And that's just one example; there are many more.

It would be up to me figure it out on my own, relying on what I felt (internally) and what such a feeling produced. I think he must have had a good deal of faith in me...certainly more than I did! With the passing of the years, I realized that I could no longer perform beautiful jumping kicks or twirls. I had to slow everything down several klicks – especially after having suffered a stroke in China – and slowing things down helped me to really FEEL what I was doing. I didn't have a choice; if I'd tried to move too quickly, I'd have ended up on the floor, wondering what day it was. So I slowed down and focused on feeling. And upon discovering a few things, I focused even more...

The older teachers demonstrate high levels of skill not just because they've been training for a long time, but because they've carefully examined their respective arts...if, for no other reason, than age forced them to do it! They came to understand that, in the end, great speed and strength, although important to some degree, aren't all there is. Other, very subtle things, are much more crucial to real martial arts technique.

WHAT HAS THE WEST CONTRIBUTED?

 By Phillip Starr

After all I've written in previous articles about how the deterioration of the traditional martial arts can be ascribed, at least partly, to the West – commercialization, sportification, and on on, it would seem that I believe the West has contributed virtually nothing of value to the ancient arts. But the truth is quite the opposite, actually...I believe that we have contributed a great deal.

For instance, in China (and perhaps Japan as well), a student NEVER questions the teacher. Ever. To do so often results in a quick and rather painful response. It's a carry-over from Confucianism; to question the teacher is considered disrespectful and an affront to their position of authority and knowledge of the subject as. But in the West that's how we learn. From the youngest age, we're encouraged to ask questions. Numerous Eastern teachers who came to the West and began instructing Westerners discovered that we're always asking questions and many of them responded as they would in their native cultures (my teacher was one of them). But many of them eventually came to understand that questioning the teacher (in the West) is not a show of disrespect. On the contrary, we're asking the teacher because we respect him and we believe that he knows the correct answer.

Some Asian instructors quickly realized that THEY didn't know the answers to their student's questions...they'd never questioned their teachers! So they had to dig deeper and find the answers and this helped advance the arts a bit further.

One of the largest contributions made by the West has been in the fields of physics, exercise science, and kinesiology. Our forefathers knew that moving in certain ways worked very well but they didn't necessarily know WHY. Now we do...or we can find out. Much as many of us hate the admit it, a great many of our martial arts forefathers weren't particularly well educated. Some were functionally or even totally illiterate. Many lacked the verbal skills to adequately express what a student was supposed to do or feel. The “science” of the day was, in many cases, what we'd consider very crude. But thanks to modern technology, we've been able to determine exactly what happens when we move in certain ways and even find the most efficient ways of performing them. This has given the arts a HUGE boost forward.

WANTS VS. NEEDS

 by Phillip Starr

Sometimes, students feel that their teacher is providing less than fulfilling instruction because he/she isn't teaching them what they want to learn. The instructor, however, knows better than they do what they NEED to learn and that may not sit well with the student. And there are times when the student thinks he/she NEEDS to learn one thing, but the teacher knows better and proceeds to teach them what they really need to learn. And the student may be a bit miffed…

This kind of thing rarely happens in the East, where students join the class with the understanding that the teacher will teach them what they need at the appropriate time, regardless of what it is that they want to learn. His judgement isn't questioned. Ever.

In the West, some students feel that since they've paid money to receive this teacher's instruction, they should be taught exactly what they want...kind of like ordering a hamburger. Not. You may compensate the instructor, but you have no choice about what is on the curriculum. All items and subjects, however, are required. There's no picking and choosing. You will get all of it (if you stick around long enough), in the proper sequence, and at the pertinent time.

Just as a young child (or student) may THINK that what he wants to eat for dinner (or, in the case of martial arts instruction, learn) is the right thing, and may feel that his parent (teacher) is being unfair to insist that he or she eat (learn) something else (and the child may even claim that it tastes terrible), so it is in the training hall. Nutritious food, like basic techniques, give you strength and fosters good health (and necessary skill). Sweets (more advanced techniques) may come after a good, nutritious meal but they're no substitute for it.

UNDER THE MICROSCOPE

 by Phillip Starr

There is much more to your traditional forms than what you see. Much more. Many of you already know this to be true. But oftentimes, it's very informative to place your form “under the microscope, so to speak and examine it in minute detail. By doing so, we can become aware of numerous small elements that might otherwise go unnoticed. You must proceed very slowly, movement by movement. Hurrying will result in your missing key points.

For instance, take the first movement and examine it very closely. If it's a defensive technique of some kind, some naysayers (those who disdain the practice of forms and regard them as useless and unrealistic) will argue that, “In a real fight, you don't have time to chamber your arm like that before you do such-and-such technique...” Fine. But what makes them (or you) think that that preliminary chamber is what it seems...a preparatory movement for the execution of a particular technique? Very often, it isn't what it appears to be. A dear friend of mine who teaches traditional Okinawan karate, can demonstrate (rather painfully) just what that alleged “chamber” really is.

At times, the microscope has to be even more finely adjusted. In that singular movement or just before it, is there a subtle shift of the weight? How, exactly, do the hips move? Where should the eyes be directed? Do you turn your head before moving or do you initially catch the enemy's movement with your peripheral vision? When you make that step, do you step heel first, slide your foot, or what? Yes, it matters...sliding the foot along the floor is next to impossible to do outdoors and it's bloody well impossible on uneven, rocky, or muddy ground. If the foot slides, it would be an indication to me that this set was intended for use indoors...

There are some forms (especially Chinese sets that were developed by Buddhist monks) that sometimes contain what seem to be numerous nonsensical movements...until you're told that these monks were known to conceal small weapons under their billowy sleeves, on the lower legs or ankles, or even sewn into the hems of their sleeves! The seemingly silly, pointless movements are actually techniques for retrieving a concealed weapon! Movement(s) following this retrieval sometimes represent actual use of the weapon (which may involve throwing it at the enemy).

Some ostensibly infinitesimal, inconsequential movements may even be blows or seizing techniques directed at specific vital points, which are subtly delineated in the set. The “follow-up” techniques may be based on the opponent's reaction to the aforementioned strike or seizing technique (many of these reactions are involuntary; the opponent cannot help but react in a very explicit way). However, you must be able to “decode” such movements (which occasionally appear in traditional Okinawan and Chinese forms) and to learn to do that, you'll need to train under a qualified teacher. I'll go out on a limb and say that most current instructors are wholly unaware that these techniques even exist.

So...adjust your microscope and get to work. You may be very surprised at what you find!

THE TEA HOUSE

 by Phillip Starr

The old Japanese tea hut (chaseki, but also known by other names) is rather small; often just a single room used for tea ceremony (chado). Sparsely decorated, it often features an alcove in one corner where a scroll and flower(s) are displayed. And that's it. No gawdy pictures or posters, no fancy furniture (one sits on the matted floor), and usually, no windows. The focus is on the ceremony itself (which maintains very precise movements not unlike kata) rather than on gulping down tea.

Sen no Rikyū, also known simply as Rikyū, is considered the historical figure with the most profound influence on chanoyu (known also as chado), the Japanese "Way of Tea". He was also the first to emphasize several key aspects of the ceremony, including rustic simplicity, directness of approach and honesty of self. It was Rikyu who determined that the entrance to the hut should be small so that persons wanting to partake of the ceremony would have to enter on their knees.

The entrance is quite small; so small, in fact, that it's not possible to simply walk inside. You must get on your knees to crawl through the doorway. This applied to anyone wishing to enter the hut, even the shogun himself. There were no exceptions. Why was the doorway made in this way? It was done so that all who entered would have to humble themselves first.

I can scarcely imagine some of today's swaggering “masters” (many of whom have the title plastered all over the back of their training uniforms) humbly entering such a place. Too bad we don't have something of this sort for competitors at tournaments nowadays...