BABY STEPS

 by Phillip Starr

Although the term, "kung-fu" (also, "gongfu"), serves as a generic term for Chinese martial arts, use of the term in that regard is actually a misnomer. As most of you already know, "kung-fu" refers to a fine, high level of skill that is developed over a period of time through hard work. Thus, "kung-fu" can actually be applied to any martial discipline as well as many other activities that require rigorous and regular practice over a period of time.

Throughout the Orient it is understood by most persons who endeavor to train in any martial form that substantial skill cannot be acquired quickly and any teacher who promises otherwise is nothing more than a charlatan whose main interest (and skill) lies in separating a student's money from his wallet. At the same time, there are those who come from the other end of the spectrum and insist that students must practice this or that training routine (and pay for it every month, of course) for an extraordinarily long period of time if he or she hopes to acquire a high level of skill.

The truth, of course, lies somewhere in the middle and students must be careful about selecting a good teacher.

In the West we are accustomed to things being accomplished fairly quickly. We have microwaveable meals (which aren't really food....), instant entertainment (just turn on the television), quick diets (which don't work), and so on. When we want something, we want it NOW. When martial arts were first introduced to the West, a number of enterprising instructors realized that a great deal of money could be made by short-cutting training routines and providing forms of "instant martial arts." My own teacher envisioned this happening although his young pupil (moi) just couldn't see it coming down the pike. But it arrived like a thunderbolt and it's here to stay.

No doubt, some of the old, traditional training routines were extremely tedious but they were necessary for the development of genuine martial skill (as opposed to what is presented nowadays as being martial skill). Westerners, being the way they are, sought to find short-cuts through much of what they regarded as "unnecessary, old-fashioned, unrealistic" training. Many honestly believed that they had found ways to shorten the training process but the truth is much different.

My teacher likened the process to making tea. To make tea the old way takes time and any attempt at hurrying the process will only ruin the drink. To be sure, we now have "instant tea" but my teacher couldn't stand the taste of it. There's tea and then there's tea.

Even so, most of those who have undertaken the study of a traditional martial discipline with the understanding that it's going to take time to develop real skill will still often catch themselves "shaving corners" and trying to take "big steps." Such attempts at hurrying the training process and the evolution of genuine skill almost always result in frustration and/or injury.

I knew one young man who wanted to develop large callouses of his punching knuckles. He beat the living bejeezus out of his striking post (which was incorrectly made and was akin to hitting a tree) and mangled his hands...he didn't realize that hardening the hands is NOT the primary objective of training with this particular device, and he finally had to give it up. Of course, he then argued that training with the post was "old-fashioned", unnecessary, and unrealistic.

Another fellow dreamed of being able to execute his form with the same precision, grace, and power as his teacher. He trained his form for 2-3 hours every day, suffering pulled muscles as well as numerous other minor injuries. He ultimately gave up, insisting that forms were "old-fashioned", unnecessary, and unrealistic.

And yet another student envied the uncanny fighting skill of his seniors. He dreamed of becoming an invincible warrior and practiced shadow-boxing and sparring incessantly. When he engaged in sparring practice he often went at it with a bit too much power and the wrong mind-set (he was determined to "win"), so, of course, he often went home with bruises, cracked ribs, black eyes, and many other booboos. He finally gave up, saying that traditional training was "old-fashioned", unnecessary, and unrealistic.

Progress in real martial arts comes in what I call "baby steps"; little steps that are sometimes too small to even measure or notice right away. Regular practice is essential. After all, a toddler will never learn to walk if he or she only tries to do it once in a while. So, if you train (at home) just every now and then, you can be assured that you're getting nowhere. On the other hand, if you're training at home 3 days a week or more and you're taking your time (taking "baby steps"), you can be confident that you're developing genuine skill - and if you keep at it long enough you'll develop real "kung-fu."

YIN AND YANG?

 

by Phillip Starr

*Partially excerpted from the author's book, “Martial Maneuvers.”

The double-fish diagram known as “taiji” (Grand Ultimate) is familiar to anyone who is even vaguely familiar with Chinese culture. The dark side is referred to as Yin and the light side is known as Yang.

In observing and analyzing the physical world, the ancients used these twin concepts. Yin and Yang do not refer to actual physical phenomena as some people mistakenly believe; they simply represent two opposing but complementary and interdependent forces or principles that can be observed throughout the tangible universe. This seemingly incongruent supposition forms the cornerstone of most branches of Chinese philosophy.

The character for Yin is an ideogram of the shaded side of a hill. It is used to represent darkness, cold, the negative aspect, stillness, and so on. The ideogram for Yang is indicative of the sunny side of a hill and represents light, warmth, the positive aspect, movement and so on.

You'll notice that the Yin side of the diagram includes an element of Yang, which is indicated by the small white circle. Yang also contains an element of Yin, as shown by the small black circle. This is meant to show that each of these aspects contains a trace of the other and that there is no absolute Yin or Yang, and both of these twin principles can be infinitely subdivided into Yin and Yang qualities.

Additionally, the diagram should be seen as being static. Rather, it is constantly moving and changing. When one aspect increases, the other decreases. And when one aspect is carried to its extreme, it gives way to its opposite. Night (Yin) is ultimately transformed into day (Yang) and too much sweet (Yang) eventually becomes bitter (Yin).

Many neijia enthusiasts get lost in this concept; it's as if they regard Yin and Yang as actual “things/entities”, which, of course, they are not. They are simply mental constructs that the ancients used to help them better understand the world in which we all live.

In the practice of the neijia these twin concepts are generally applied from two viewpoints, the first of which is the execution of individual techniques. For instance, the hand or foot that is executing the technique is considered Yang while the unused hand or foot is Yin. The leg bearing the majority of the body's weight becomes Yang and the other is Yin, and so on.

The second view has to do with practical application against an aggressor and this is where some people get pretty confused. Some people believe that when the opponent attacks, he becomes Yang and this requires that the receiver should become Yin. Not. When the attacker strikes with, for instance, his right hand, his right hand becomes Yang and his left is regarded as Yin. The instant after he has discharged his force, his right hand becomes empty (Yin). So, the opponent is not entirely Yang simply because he is attacking.

You should not totally yield to his aggression because you will then become too Yin and become unbalanced, as it were. My teacher, W. C. Chen, explained that one must become “insubstantial” (which is, I think, a more accurate way of thinking of the condition known as Yin) AT THE POINT where the aggressor directs his attack. For instance, if the aggressor seizes your wrist, you should not apply your strength in an attempt to release it. Rather, you should become Yin AT THE POINT he has seized; you receive his force without becoming “empty.” This is an important point to remember.

Moreover, whenever an assailant attacks he must necessarily expose certain vital areas and weaknesses in his posture, both of which can be readily exploited by a skilled fighter.

My teacher explained these two ideas very simply; he likened it to punching water. “If you punch water, what will happen?”, he asked. I figured this was a no-brainer, so I answered simply, “You'll get wet!” He nodded and asked another question. “Can you break the water?”

I knew this had to be an intellectual trap but there was only one answer that I could think of. “No...”

“Yes!”, he replied. “It becomes Yin when you hit it! But does ALL of the water become Yin?” I shook my head, “No...”

“Exactly!”, he smiled. It becomes Yin only at the spot where you hit it, right?” I nodded as he continued with his questions. “What does the rest of the water do?”

I wasn't altogether sure what he wanted me to say and my answer was too slow in coming. He answered for me. “It reacts by enveloping your hand and wrist and splashing you!”

Duh. Why hadn't I thought of that sooner?

“So that part of the water becomes Yang! Where you punch it, it becomes Yin. The rest becomes Yang!”, he said. “So it's very simple. Not hard to understand.”

THE WUDAO (BUDO) SPIRIT

 by Phillip Starr

It was during my last year of high school back in 1967 that I decided to attend Tokyo University. I frankly didn't care one whit about which university I attended; I wanted to go to Japan and study the martial arts - especially karate. I wrote to Master Masutatsu ("Mas") Oyama, who was the founder of the Kyokushin style of karate. I held a black belt grade in his system and discovered that he allowed a certain number of foreigners to live in the honbu dojo (headquarters training hall) each year. I had visions of waking up, cleaning the dojo, working out for a short time before breakfast...what a life!

Ah, but life had different plans for me. I was accepted at Tokyo University and Mr. Oyama actually wrote me back and invited me to stay at his dojo...but try as I might, I couldn't get enough money put together to bring this dream into reality.

I still have that letter that the legendary "god-hand' (Mr. Oyama) sent me. One of his statements stuck in my head and it's still there. For some years I couldn't figure out exactly what he meant but as I matured and kept training, I came to understand it. He wrote, "I always look forward to teaching my foreign students in Japan. The most important thing for them to learn while they are here is spirit..." He said that it was the most difficult thing to teach Westerners.

What Master Oyama was talking about has nothing to do with religion, ghosts, or any of that sort of thing. What he was referring to is the very glue that holds together each aspect of the martial ways of the East. It is very a very real, almost palpable thing although it cannot be weighed, measured, seen, heard, or tasted... But without it, there are no true martial arts - just exercise and dance routines.

You cannot really understand this concept through intellectualizing about it. Talking or reading about it may help you acquire a basic grasp of its meaning but to truly know it you must experience it directly. It isn't something that you try to experience from time to time - it's something that has to be strengthened, refined, and lived every day.

To find a simple definition of it is far from simple. It is a striving for perfection - perfection of technique, perfection of form, perfection of physical skill - and these lead to perfection of character, proper behavior, correct etiquette at all times, and consideration and respect for yourself and others.

You don't seek perfection only within the boundaries of your chosen martial art. At first, that seems to be the goal but with time, introspection, and incessant training, you seek perfection in everything you do.

It begins with relentless training of the body, which leads to training and refinement of the mind. This means training daily. In the East, it's understood and accepted that training in any martial discipline is going to be painful and new students accept that (for the most part). In the West, things are very different. In our society, any form of discomfort is to be avoided. If training in aikido or kendo or any other martial form results in bumps, bruises, sprains, strains, and other assorted "ouchies", we either discontinue practicing until we feel that we're properly healed up or we might quit altogether. In short, we're wimps.

The find and develop this spirit, you must train daily even when you don't feel like it. You have to push yourself and find the strength to go on even when your body or mind feels like giving up. Now, I'm not encouraging you to practice when you have a serious injury or illness. Spirited training doesn't mean that you should be foolish...but it does mean being mature, tough, and unwilling to accept anything short of perfection. It means that you're unwilling to accept any excuses that you make up for yourself as to why you just can't practice every day, why your punch, kick, iai kata, or whatever, just isn't up to snuff.

No excuse is acceptable...to you.

It means being a useful and productive member of your community and society. It means being sincere and honest, and it means being honorable and standing up for what is right.

It's not something that you strive to develop and feel only when you don your practice uniform or attend your martial arts class. If that's what you're doing, then you're just playing "make believe" and your training will come to nothing. You either dive in head-first and immerse yourself in it or you stay out of it altogether. It's not something that you can do on a part-time basis.

You have to want to learn badly enough that you won't allow anything (I repeat...anything) to stand in your way. Words like "quit" are not a part of your vocabulary when speaking of your training or doing anything else that you set your hand and mind to do. To you, such ideas are shameful and unacceptable.

This kind of constant training will reveal to you, as well as your teacher and many of your classmates, much about your personal makeup. All of the ugliness and flaws, as well as the beauty of your personality and spirit will be laid bare. Your true self will be unveiled. This can be more than a little unnerving but it is part and parcel of traveling the path of the martial ways.

You must determine that even if your desire to learn should lead you to your own death, you'll do it. I know this probably sounds a bit melodramatic but that's how it truly is. The price for learning and acquiring a high level of skill in genuine martial arts can be very high and it involves much more than dollars and cents.