FEAR NOT!

By Phillip Starr

Remember way back when you were about to break your very first board? Do you recall your teacher's instructions? I imagine he said like, “Aim for the center and try to hit something BEHIND THE BOARD!” Essentially, he told you to put your mind on something behind the board...and your fist passed through it without much difficulty, right? This was probably one of the most valuable lessons you ever learned but so many of us miss it altogether...

What your mind believes to be true, becomes true (for you).

This applies not only to breaking boards, but to virtually every aspect of your life. In your martial arts training it is absolutely crucial that you understand this simple principle. It is one of the most important reasons we practice freestyle sparring! It's also a good reason to engage in competition. After all, martial arts is primarily about training the mind; training the body is secondary to training the mind.

In sparring practice or competition, a fear of losing will certainly result in a quick defeat. Actual combat is slightly different; in competition the object is to win but in a real life and death skirmish, the object is to NOT LOSE! Either way, you must remove the fear of losing from your mind altogether.

Whatever your mind is focused on is what will occur. Thus, if you focus on losing, you're guaranteed to fail. If your mind is concerned about losing, it will interfere with your ability to see clearly what is happening. You will miss opportunities and perhaps misinterpret movements that your foe makes, causing you to react inappropriately. Your qi (energy) is withdrawn and your spirit waivers, preventing you from acting boldly at the moment of truth. If your enemy possesses any real skill he'll see and “smell” your fear and take full advantage of it.

We are humans and as mortal creatures we experience fear from time to time. The key is not giving in to your fear (of losing). You must learn to control it, to put it in the back seat while you continue to press forward. This is the real meaning of bravery. The legendary actor, John Wayne, put it very succinctly when he said, “Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway.”

You must focus your mind on succeeding, on achieving your goals, and you must see yourself as being victorious. Success in anything is not the result of luck; it is almost always due to a courageous spirit, the willingness to do whatever must be done to achieve it, and the firm belief that losing is simply not a possibility.

THE ANALOGY OF THE CHAIN

by Phillip Starr

I often used the analogy of a chain to explain to my senior students how a proper martial art technique should feel and how it is to be applied. A coiled-up chain can't hurt anybody unless you throw it at them or shove it down their throats...but in that condition, it doesn't pack nearly the wallop that it does if it's used correctly. Coiled up, it is soft and flexible.

If you swing it around it has tremendous potential energy but if it doesn't hit anything, it's harmless. The potential energy is never released in the form of kinetic energy. Actually, it is still quite soft; it isn't stiffened at all... until it meets resistance; i.e., the target.

At the instant of impact, it is the RESISTANCE, the target itself that CAUSES THE CHAIN TO HARDEN! The links align and for an instant – just an instant – the chain becomes as a steel rod and if there's a weighted metal tip on it, that tip becomes a lethal weapon that transfers every last drop of energy into the target. This phenomenon lasts only for a micro-second, after which the chain once again becomes soft.

Isn't martial art technique the same? You will probably answer in the affirmative but then consider and ask yourself if you start to tense up BEFORE your fist or foot makes impact with the target? Well, DO YOU? If you do, you're blocking the free flow of power to the target!

“So”, you ask, “Should I stay relaxed until the moment of impact and then tighten up my muscles like the chain?” And my smile would be followed with a thunderous “NO, YOU DIMWIT!” Think on the analogy of the chain once again and reread the first sentence of the third paragraph. Let it sink it. Digest it.

Let the target (the resistance) CAUSE whatever measure of tension is required; DO NOT try to do it yourself! You'll probably generate too much or too little (tension) and in any case, the moment of impact lasts for such a very short time that your timing will very likely be too early or too late! Just let nature – and physics – do everything for you. Your job is to ensure that everything is properly aligned; that all of the “links” in the chain are correctly adjusted (so that they all inter-support each other), so that (kinetic) energy is not lost. Actually, you're you;re going to lose some of it – that's simply unavoidable – but try to lose as little as possible.

Sure, it sounds simple enough but it requires a good deal of practice. Overcoming the inherent tendency to tighten up, making sure that the body parts are correctly coordinated and aligned...takes a tremendous amount of practice. Even tightening your fist before impact will cost you power. I often tell my students to make a fist as if they've just caught a fly but don't want to crush it. No daylight seeps in (lest the fly escape) but it isn't tight, either. Impact will tighten it for you!

This is the secret of what is known as “kime” in Japanese (pronounced “kee-meh” for you rednecks out there). I have heard on taijiquan practitioner say that chansi-jin (silk-reeling power) is actually generated by maintaining a relaxed condition until the instant of impact... and then body is tightened for just a second. The gentleman who spoke these words said that such was the instruction provided him by a renowned member of the Chen family (who practice Chen style taijiquan in China and teach seminars worldwide). And... he's wrong. Real chansi-jin is another story, but that's outlined in my book, “Developing Jin.” Certainly the analogy of the chain is applicable, but there's much more to it than that.

And, like the chain, you must not retain any of the (kinetic) energy once impact is made. You have to adhere to the old Christian adage, “T'is better to give than to receive”, and give all of it – every last micro-measure – to the intended target. To do otherwise means that your target receives much less than 100% of the power that you can give to it. If you consciously tighten up, the time of impact is increased and that reduces striking force considerably.

I've seen countless students and teacher alike who, after executing a punch, have what I call a “bouncing fist.” That is, the punching fist seems to bob up and down a wee bit after the punch has been performed. This is indicative of excess tension (energy) being stored in the arm and hand; it is energy that has NOT been transferred to the target. At the instant AFTER impact, your bodily weapon should be empty. Totally.

To strike with real destructive force doesn't require great strength. It requires correctness. There's a difference.

LEARNING TO READ

by Phillip Starr

For many martial arts enthusiasts, their kata are little more than formal exercises that they must endure and memorize only because their instructor insists on it. For others, they are something of a mystery; they have been told that these routines contain a wealth of information but they have no idea about how to extract that knowledge. Thus, my fourth book, “Hidden Hands.”

Frankly, there's so much to be learned from the traditional forms that I wasn't sure how to begin! I really had to sit down and organize my thoughts on the subject. The importance of the forms can't be understated. As I said in the book, the forms are the “books” that contain all relevant information about a given martial arts system. Too many martial arts enthusiasts have simply never learned how to “read” these “books” and to make matters worse, the information contained in these abstract texts is frequently layered. That is, what appears to be one thing is actually another and that can give birth to yet another layer of information. Once a student has learned to read, she must learn to “read between the lines.” Not only that, but some forms contain coded information; the advanced practitioner has to learn how to decipher it and apply it to certain movements in the form. How could I possibly explain these things in words that would be readily understood?

And so I began with my outline, trying to select movements from forms that are practiced in karate and taekwondo. Naturally, I included some material from (internal) kung-fu sets as well. I wanted to make sure that devotees of these different martial disciplines could all make good use of my book. This led to an argument with my editor concerning the cover of the book. I had photos of people performing taekwondo, kung-fu, and karate postures...but the publisher insisted on a cover showing a nice-looking Eastern gal in a taijiquan pose. I warned 'em that prospective readers who practiced karate or taekwondo would overlook the book, thinking that it was geared primarily towards kung-fu enthusiasts. And I still believe I was right. But they stuck with the cover they wanted...

By the time the book was completed, I felt that I'd done the best job that I could do. I'd covered the subject of forms that originated in China, Okinawa, Japan, and Korea. I'd also been brutally honest about the development and practice of such forms. The book wasn't intended to spoon-feed the answers to my reader's questions about their forms. Rather, it was intended to teach them certain principles so they could do it themselves!

One reviewer was upset that I hadn't figuratively taken him by the hand and shown him all of the possible interpretations of the various movements presented in the book. He had no idea what he was asking for. To do that would have required a dump truck load of more photos and a couple of hundred additional pages of text! Instead, I presented instructions on how to break down forms (from virtually any system) and then left it to the reader to do the work himself. Apparently, he wasn't up to the task.

Mastering a single form is a lifetime achievement. For those who want to learn more about authentic martial arts, it's essential that you master the language and read the books. “Hidden Hands” will show you how to do just that.

BOARDS DON'T HIT BACK...?

by Phillip Star

In the classic martial arts movie, “Enter the Dragon”, the famous martial arts actor of the day, Bruce Lee, faced off against the opposition's main axe-man who began the match by tossing a board into the air and breaking it with a quick thrust. “Boards don't hit back”, Lee sneered...and then went on to pummel his foe into the ground. Another well-known martial arts figure once stated that, “Bricks and boards give a resounding thwack, but bricks and boards don't hit back.”

True enough. I've heard the same thing from numerous martial arts teachers over the years but I always wondered if they'd ever considered that heavy bags and striking posts don't back, either. I realize that they were saying simply that the ability to break various objects with the bare hands and feet are not necessarily indicative of one's martial skill in so far as fighting is concerned, but then...neither is striking the heavy bag. I think that people who makes such statements are missing the point. After all, silhouette targets that are used by firearms enthusiasts don't shoot back, either...

They would likely argue that hitting the heavy bag fosters the development of strong technique (if it's done correctly... and a great many people use it incorrectly). I think I would counter with the same argument regarding board and brick breaking. More importantly, the breaking techniques promote the development of a strong spirit and teach practitioners how to extend their yi (mind, intention, will...), which isn't always the case with using pieces of equipment like the heavy bag. Different training devices assist in the development of different aspects of a chosen martial discipline; there is no single piece of equipment that helps to develop all of them.

The legendary Masutatsu (“Mas”) Oyama, founder of the Kyokushin style of Japanese karate, emphasized the importance of the breaking techniques because he regarded them as invaluable aids in the promotion of a strong spirit. Although he said that they can be used as a sort of barometer by which we can measure the power of a given technique, the main idea was the development of an indomitable spirit and it is this point that so many contemporary practitioners miss.

If you fail to make a particular break, it's because:

• Your technique is flawed one way or another
• You failed to extend your yi properly, or
• Your spirit is weak

Or any combination thereof. All of these things are necessary for the development of real fighting skill. At the same time, you can hit the heavy bag incorrectly (which is something that many people do everyday without knowing it), you can strike it without extending your yi (ditto), and it does not necessarily reflect a lack of spirit. So there.

The breaking techniques were not intended to be used as a form of showmanship. Back in the old days it was practiced primarily in the training hall, out of sight of the public at large. It was when the martial arts were brought to the West that these practice routines were used to enthrall audiences. The idea snowballed and before long, we had people performing all kinds of breaking techniques that had little to no value as far as training goes, but the public loved them! Of course, the same happened with freestyle sparring and the demonstrations of forms.

So, to those who say that breaking techniques are without value, I say, “take a closer look.” You'll be surprised at what you find...

A WORD FROM WATTS

by Phillip Starr

For those may not have heard of him, Alan Watts (6 January 1915 – 16 November 1973) was a British-born philosopher, writer, and speaker, best known as an interpreter of Zen. A one-time Episcopal priest, the church still utilizes some of his writings to this day. He was a prolific writer, particularly after studying Eastern ways of thought. authoring some 25 books and many articles. His first book, “The Way of Zen” (1957) remains a classic to this day. I was most fortunate in being able to meet him at a summer seminar in 1973 shortly before his untimely demise in an airplane crash. I learned more from him than I ever suspected at the time and a number of things that he told me that day have stayed in my mind ever since. This article is in regards to one of them.

Few people, even most fans of his, know that Watts was an avid practitioner of aikido. I found out because I was young, didn't know much about him or his fame (thus, I wasn't awed by him in the least until a few hours later), and I asked him directly, “Mr. Watts, do you practice martial arts?” He glanced sideways at me and I told him that I was a teacher of Chinese martial arts. It was then that he admitted to studying....and loving, aikido. In fact, he was very interested in all of the martial ways and because it was a rarity to find a practitioner of Chinese martial arts in those days, we talked at some length.

As we discussed martial arts he said, “Any physical activity taken to its extreme, becomes s spiritual path and leads to awakening.” I asked what he meant by, “extreme?” I remember that he smiled as he answered me. “If you strive for perfection in it, it eventually becomes a spiritual experience.”

“Even something like...tennis?” I asked.

He chuckled. “Yes, even tennis...or baseball, or crocheting. Any activity.”

I've mulled this over for many years now. The operative phrase in his answer is, “strive to perfect.” If we attend classes on a regular basis, that isn't enough. If we simply engage in the practice of basic techniques, kata, two-person routines...it isn't enough. We have to CONSCIOUSLY strive to perfect our skills as this leads towards self-perfection. It is the underlying theory of all martial arts. It is why we continue to practice for decade after decade. We don't do it for the exercise, although that certainly provides many wonderful side benefits. And we don't do it for self-defense; heck, we've acquired more than adequate self-defense skills after a fairly short time in training. We (should) do it because we are aiming at self-perfection.

Is such a thing even possible? I would have to answer, “No, not in this lifetime.” But that shouldn't discourage you in the least.

MARTIAL ARTS; DIFFERENCES BETWEEN EAST AND EAST

      No, the title of this article isn't a typo. It means what it says. It is an introduction into my thoughts about how and why the Japanese, Okinawans, Koreans, and Chinese practice their various martial forms.

      With the unification of Japan under the Tokugawa shogunate, civil war in Japan came to an end. The once highly-independent lords now served Tokugawa and had no need for the maintenance of large private armies. They “downsized” their military forces considerably and many samurai suddenly found themselves unemployed. A number of them opened their own dojos in an effort to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. They had been taught, practiced, and still taught the “jutsu” forms of their respective disciplines. These arts are focused exclusively upon practical combatives without any concern for the student's spiritual development or anything else. They were, after all, originally developed to ensure the survival of the clan.

      With the passage of time and the relative disintegration of the “clans”, many of these arts morphed into “do” forms; martial disciplines that focus not only on developing fighting skills but also on the development of character and ultimately, spiritual awareness.

      The Japanese have always been a highly-disciplined people and their culture has always had a militaristic tendency. The samurai of days long past were, and still are, held in very high esteem. And although no one carries swords nowadays, feudal Japan is still very much alive. Ball-point pens have replaced swords. And almost all of the CEO's in modern Japan are descended from samurai families...which means that they are, in fact, samurai themselves.

And so they have continued to hold their traditional martial ways in the highest regard although they are now considered as being somewhat old-fashioned. For a time, the numbers of practitioners of the budo dwindled but their numbers are once again on the rise. They are, after all, a very large part of what has kept Japan Japanese! Many executives of various corporations bow to their teachers and engage in the practice of martial arts such as kendo, karate, and aikido in dojos that are maintained inside the buildings where they work! It is thought that the regular practice of these arts helps employees stay healthy, reduce stress, improve focus, and ultimately, improve productivity in the workplace.

      Many martial forms have been modified for the competition arena in Japan. These include kendo, karatedo, and of course, judo (which was originally developed from jujutsu as a sport method). There are numerous Japanese instructors who feel that the “sportification” of their arts has contributed to an overall degeneration and I would have to say that for all intents and purposes, that's true. However, the Japanese strive to maintain the spirit of the budo (even in competition) and this has helped prevent their arts from spiraling downward, out of control. It's a site better than what we see in the West, that's for sure!

      Unlike the Japanese, the people of Okinawa never developed much of a militaristic culture. Although they did have a warrior class, it was a far cry from that of Japan. The warrior's first obligation was to protect his emperor and country. After that, his loyalty was to his family. In some ways, much of early Okinawan culture mirrored that of its closest ally; China. Many Chinese visited or moved to Okinawa and numerous Okinawans spent a good deal of time in China, so it's only natural that they learned Chinese forms of martial arts. This is especially true of southern Chinese martial arts systems. And although most of us were taught that the Okinawans didn't learn Japanese martial arts, the truth is far different. Several well-known Okinawans traveled to Japan and became top-notch adepts at swordsmanship; several were even awarded menkyos (license to teach)!

      Okinawan martial ways seem to focus primarily on self-defense. They do engage in competitions but rarely do they train primarily for sport. In the past, the emphasis was almost wholly on combat practicality. This matches up with the “jutsu” forms of Japanese martial arts, which were intended to preserve the safety and perpetuation of the “clan.” With the passing of time the Okinawan forms, like the Japanese disciplines, were gradually transformed into “do” forms, emphasizing not only combative practicality but the development of character and spirit as well.

      Korean martial arts were, like all other martial arts, originally focused on self-defense. The Koreans didn't develop a warrior culture as did the Japanese although for a time they were served by the “hwarang”, which means “flower boys.” I saw several of you smile... and yes, they did use make-up and perfume but they also trained assiduously in horsemanship, archery, and swordsmanship. Comprised largely of young men from the kingdom of Silla (when Korea was divided into three kingdoms), very little was known about them until the end of WWII in 1945. Following the unification of its three kingdoms (the fighting was won by the kingdom of Koryo...thus, the name, “Korea”), people turned away from appreciating their military. In fact, there was a saying that perfectly expressed their attitude; :One does not make nails out of the best steel, and one does not make soldiers out of the best men.” This kind of feeling contributed to the eventual demise of many Korean martial forms.

      The original Korean martial arts were heavily influenced by their Chinese neighbors and almost none of them. such as cha-bi, survived to the present day. Current Korean martial ways include arts such as taekwondo, tangsoodo, and a handful of other spin-offs. Their founders were military men, so it was only natural that the arts they learned (mainly from the Japanese) were taught to their troops. Training was extremely rugged and could be said to have been quite brutal.

      Following the war in Vietnam (in which several ROK units were deployed), Korean instructors saw the huge demand for Asian martial arts in the West. They were only too happy to accommodate. And as tournaments became more and more popular in the West, the majority of Korean martial arts teachers modified their arts to better suit them to the contest arena. This was done to such a degree that it is now very difficult to find a Korean martial arts school that isn't almost wholly sport-oriented. 

 

      China has never embraced a warrior culture. On the contrary, the Chinese seemed to place great emphasis on other arts such as painting, calligraphy, poetry, music, and dancing. Certainly, martial arts teachers were highly respected but they weren't held in the same esteem as, say, a well-known painter or poet. Martial arts were practiced as forms of self-defense. A number of styles were developed for teaching to military troops as well. Although there were occasional contests of sorts, they were rather rare and never became very popular. 

 

      Very rarely did members of the upper class participate in martial arts practice. This is still true today. Such rigorous activities were only marginally popular with the middle class as well. However, member of the lower middle class and lower classes enjoyed this kind of vigorous practice. Many of them had had only minimal educations (if any at all...a good number of them were illiterate), so the odds of getting a decent job were rather small. However, if they could become skilled at martial arts they might well land a job as a bodyguard or convoy escort. 

 

      During WWII, martial arts instruction was all but impossible to find. China was in a state of total upheaval and after the end of the war, things only got worse in so far as martial arts are concerned. The establishment of the People's Republic of China ended the open practice of any martial discipline; such things were strictly forbidden until the end of the Cultural Revolution in 1976. China realized that its martial arts were, in fact, a great treasure and they sought to find ways to popularize it. Among other things, this led to the development of contemporary “wushu” (which means “martial arts”) that combined martial arts movements with gymnastics and Chinese opera. However, although modern wushu did become quite popular both in China and the West, the traditional martial ways entered a headlong dive.

      Currently, there are very few teachers of the traditional martial ways left in China and almost none of them possess all of the information regarding the system that they practice. Soccer and basketball are the most popular sports and “real” kung-fu is something that youngsters read about in comic books. China's entrance onto the world stage at the beginning of the 20^th century and the direction it took afterwards mortally wounded the once-legendary traditional martial arts. Their energy and spirit bled out, leaving behind an empty corpse, which has now been reduced to little more than a skeleton.

DO WHAT YOU CANNOT DO

“Do what you cannot possibly do.

Make the impossible possible.”

-Masutatsu Oyama

Founder of Kyokushin karate

I first heard those words many, many years ago and I took them to heart. Martial arts were my great passion and they remain so to this day. I wanted to push the envelope; to see just how far I could go. I read about numerous masters of times past and determined that I would do what they'd done. After all, they weren't gods; they were men just like me. If they could do it, I could do it.

Many of you are probably shaking your heads and thinking, “What a fool... That's a fine way to get hurt very badly. Or killed. You were certainly a very foolish young man.” And looking back on those days, I'd have to agree with you. But I wasn't stupid.

I read about the legendary “arrow catch”, which is an extremely dangerous technique that involves catching an arrow in mid-flight. The legendary “godhand”, Master Masutatsu Oyama, said that of 1,000 students, only one or two would attempt to learn such a technique. And of the 1,000 who set out to perform it, only a couple who be successful. It kind of makes you wonder what happened to the 998 who failed, doesn't it? But I didn't consider that. I was never much good at math, anyway.

I was still in college and young enough to think that I was invincible; that I could be one of the “one or two” who would succeed. “If they can do it, I can do it”, I thought. One of my students was a very skilled archer who owned a good recurved bow and he agreed to work with me, We spent months practicing together. Eventually, I would face him at the opposite end of a basketball court. An arrow-net was placed behind me to prevent arrows from striking the walls of the old college gym. Just as he released the arrow, I'd pivot and catch it.

This isn't something that can be accomplished after only a couple of weeks of practice. I may have been foolhardy but I wasn't stupid. We started out by having me simply stand off to one side and observe how quickly the arrows passed by me. Then I would reach out and try to grab them. It was a slow and gradual process that required some considerable time. I would go on to demonstrate this technique at several demonstrations.

I also wanted to test myself by breaking large stones. Starting with very small ones, I eventually succeeded in cutting a 25 lb. stone with my sword-hand. My hand shook uncontrollably for three days but I was pleased that I had accomplished what I'd set out to do. I continued to train until I could shatter a “paver” brick (which is a little more than an inch thick) with my fingertips and split a coconut with a single blow.

Now, I'm not bragging. I've never been one to indulge in self-aggrandizement. I've never had much time for people who do. The point of this short essay is simply this; although what I pushed myself to do was often very dangerous, it had a very profound impact on my mind and spirit. Martial arts isn't just about learning some exotic forms of kicking and punching; it's also about pushing yourself beyond what you perceive as your limits. It's about setting goals and then going beyond them. If you mindlessly practice a few punches and kicks once or twice a week, you're not really practicing martial arts; you're dancing. Without proper spirit, martial arts devolve into little more than some nifty-looking calisthenics.

Certainly, I'm not suggesting that you run to the nearest sporting goods store and purchase a good bow and a handful of arrows or drive through the countryside until you can find a 20 lb. stone. After all, techniques such as the arrow-catch are fraught with danger and anyone who aspires to do them must train very carefully and gradually. You must push yourself slowly, step by step. Remember that when I trained to perform these things I was young, in excellent physical condition (I suppose my mental condition could be called questionable), and I had practiced martial arts for a very long time.

What I'm suggesting is that you strive to push yourself past your “limits.” After all, it's YOU who set those limits in the first place! It's going to take some considerable work and sweat to get to the very edge of your limits... and then it'll require more than just sweat to go beyond them; it's going to take time, guts, and belief in yourself.