THE 3 GEMS OF COMBAT; PART ONE: DISTANCE

 by Phillip Starr

*Partially excerpted from “Martial Maneuvers” by the author

 

In all forms of combat, whether it involves single or multiple opponents and armed or unarmed situations, there are three elements that must be considered and applied to your advantage if you are to have any hope of defeating the enemy. It doesn't matter what martial discipline uou practice; whether it's karate, judo, kenjutsu, taijiquan, and or anything else...these three elements are critical to the effective application of your art. These are Distance, Timing, and Rhythm. If you fail to correctly apply any one of these concepts, you are looking defeat in the face. None of them is “superior” to the others, they must all work together perfectly. If one is left out of the equation or your skill in applying it is lacking, none of them work properly. It's like a machine; if one part doesn't work, the whole thing breaks down.

The first of these is Distance. I'm not talking about close, medium and long distances, such as is sometimes envisioned by some martial arts aficionados as the differences between punching and kicking distances; this kind of thinking is for beginners only. In the art that I teach (yiliquan), we recognize 3 distances, which are labeled as First Distance, Second Distance, and Mutual Distance. To truly grasp the essence of distance, we need to examine and train with all three...

First Distance is defined as the distance from which you can deliver an effective blow (in no more than one step). It isn't something that needs to be measured in feet and inches; rather, it is FELT and you must practice assiduously to find it and then to LENGTHEN it as much as possible. Exercises for doing this are shown in my book, “Martial Maneuvers.” Lengthening the First Distance can be critical to increasing the efficiency of your techniques.

Second Distance is the distance from which your foe can deliver and effective blow in no more than one step. This can be determined by observing how he holds himself, how he moves, and other factors. Like First Distance, it is something that must be felt rather than measured in feet and inches.

The third distance is known as Mutual Distance and is the distance between you and the opponent. It is very plastic and always changing as you both shift and move about. You must always be aware of this distance, which is also known as “the gap.”

Another factor that must be understood in s far as distance is concerned is that of the “defense perimeter.” If you extend your forward arm (if you have one foot advanced) and swing it around in a half-circle from side to side, that is your defense perimeter. Anything that penetrates that perimeter, even if only a small distance, can probably strike you before you will be able to react appropriately. And vice-versa. So if your enemy's leading hand penetrates your perimeter for only a small distance, he can strike you almost instantly and you are equally capable of striking him before he can react. And whoever lands the first effective blow will probably be victorious. Once your perimeter has been breached, you must make a decision instantly and you have but two choices; you can attack immediately or withdraw and set up a new perimeter. If you spend any time considering what you should do, your assailant may well land a successful attack! It's akin to a military situation. If you have enemy sappers coming over the (barbed) wire and into your perimeter, this is NOT the time to call a staff meeting to determine just what you should do! You must attack them immediately or pull back and establish a new perimeter before you are completely overrun!

I often see that students have no concept of this principle when I visit various martial arts schools. As the combatants move around jockeying for position, their perimeters overlap, then separate (because they know not what they do), then overlap again, and so on... bouncing and bobbing or rocking rhythmically back and forth, they are combative disasters waiting to happen.

Hollywood sometimes dramatically depicts “duels” wherein combatants cross their wrists at the beginning of the contest; this is very incorrect as it places both participants inside each other's perimeters!

One of the major problems to be avoided in both 3-step and 1-step fight is that of the practitioners beginning much too close to each other. I once gave a seminar at a school wherein everyone wore the padded mittens, even in 1-step fight (they'd never done 3-step). Holding their hands too close to their faces (akin to sloppy boxing), they had no concept of proper distance at all and it was very difficult to get them to toss aside this terrible habit. Still, they had no concept of distance at all.... They stood so close that if one them stretched out the leading arm, they could touch their partner. Much too close-

The stance must be “loaded” at all times; that is, it must be set on a hair trigger so that if and when the opportunity presents itself, you can move with explosive speed. That window (of opportunity) won't be open very far or for more than a split second, so your yi (roughly, mind/intention) must be totally focused on bringing the opponent down. Study this concept (distance) with a partner very carefully and thoroughly.

But there's more...! Once you understand the concept and can FEEL it, you must train to INCREASE the distance that you can explosively drive forward and deliver an effective blow. Training drills for this are also shown in my book, “MARTIAL MANEUVERS.” After all, being sensitive to the distance(s) is essential but if you are unable to take advantage of it, then it's of no use to you.

Most black belts that I've met can drive out and deliver an effective lunging thrust to a distance of about 6 ft. A reverse punch doesn't travel quite that far. When driving forward, the rear foot must remain flat, although it's permissible (and even desirable) to allow it to “slide” along the floor. The back and neck must be held straight (but not stiff). You must train assiduously to lengthen your drive. I've had students who were able to drive out more than 10-12 ft.! It's just a question of hard, regular, sweat-drenched practice. And it's best to learn from someone who is familiar with this subject. I often present it at my seminars.

THE COOPERATIVE UKE

 by Phillip Starr

Years ago, I witnessed a demonstration by a martial arts teacher who performed a series of one-step fight techniques with one of his students. After blocking his student's attack, he'd deliver multiple counter-techniques. His counter-attacks were quick but lacked any real power and he'd respond to each attack with as many as a half-dozen or more strikes. It was a fine demonstration of ineffectiveness.

An instructor who was seated next to me leaned over and said, “That's a pretty cooperative uke (receiver)” and I agreed. The demonstration lacked any sense of realism; the uke simply stood stock still while the defensive techniques rained down on him. To the uninitiated, it certainly LOOKED impressive, but there was no practicality or realism to it at all.

In the traditional Japanese martial arts, practitioners strive to develop the ability to bring down the opponent with a single blow although they may deliver as many as three techniques just for the sake of insurance. But six or more? Nah. Someone who has to do that needs to put in more serious practice to temper his techniques!

I recall one of my classmates approaching me and trying to frighten me by letting me know that he could hit me many times in the space of about a second. I was very young and inexperienced and I was rather frightened. In those days, kung-fu wasn't taught to non-Chinese but my teacher broke the mold and did it anyway. I was the only non-Chinese in the small class (and the youngest by a very long shot) and my classmates, all of whom were American-born Chinese didn't appreciate my presence. Anyway, the fellow who made that statement didn't notice my teacher standing behind him. He responded to the bully's statement by saying (in a rather loud voice) that he would only need to hit a man once to take him down...

In traditional forms, (particularly Okinawan and consequently Japanese forms) the emphasis is on doing just that. In a given sequence, you may execute a defensive movement/technique and follow through with one or maybe as many as three counter-blows before dealing with the next imaginary assailant. But never do you execute more than three blows at the most (usually, it's just one or two).

And anyway, in the practice of one-step fight or self-defense techniques, it is helpful to have the aggressor to respond to the counter-attack(s) as if he'd actually been hit. For instance, if you strike someone in the throat or neck with a sword-hand, he likely isn't going to continue standing there, looking at you like a zombie and waiting for the next blow to land. His body will react to your strike in a certain way and that alters what you will use for your next counter-attacking technique.

It's important to keep it real...

COMFORT ZONES

 by Phillip “Pete” Starr

This article likely won't make me many new friends, but here goes anyway...

There is a saying that tells us, “Comfort zones are very comfortable places, but nothing ever grows in them.” Most of us will readily agree with this statement but do we consider just what it implies? As human beings, we prefer comfort to discomfort and pleasure rather than pain. That's only natural. But as martial artists, we must often lay our preferences aside...

Comfort zones come in two parts; physical and psychological. The physical comfort zone is one wherein you feel physically comfy...warm and cozy and all that. There's no pain, no strain or discomfort. And as human beings, we tend to prefer that.

The psychological comfort zone is one wherein you are familiar with your surroundings (including people) and the activities that occur there.

But training in martial arts is a bit different.

As we engage in training, certain postures or movements are often very uncomfortable and even downright painful. Have you ever considered that sometimes it's supposed to feel that way? Over the years that I have been involved in teaching martial arts, I've encountered countless people who complain that “I can't do this movement because I have a bad back/trick knee/toothache/insert one ailment or another here...” To me, most such statements are just so much extra baggage that they bring to class. It's going to weigh them down and hold them back, maybe even stopping their progress altogether.

Now, I'm not saying that you should be foolish and worsen a given condition but...

I remember a karate classmate of mine named LeRoy Fulmer. I'll never forget him. He was a very strong young man of about 16 yrs. when he broke one of his legs (not as a result of training). But he wasn't about to let that stop him. He'd show up for class on crutches, somehow manage to get into his karategi, and sit on the sidelines and watch as we were put through our paces. He'd practice the punches and blocks as he sat there. Every. Class. As soon as the cast was removed, he'd limp through the kata (even though he couldn't yet kick with one leg). This actually enhanced his recovery time and he was soon training normally again!

I have a herniated vertebra in my lower back. When it occurred, the pain was unbearable, radiating all the way down my leg. But I never stopped training (although it did slow me down for a bit) and with the help of proper diet/herbs, the condition improved and no longer bothers me at all.

While in China, I suffered a stroke. When I regained consciousness, I was in a Chinese hospital, unable to walk and I could hardly even speak coherently. My first thoughts were about how this might affect my training. I resolved to be able to walk and train normally again! This stroke was NOT going to stop me and end my progress! And so I began, moving very slowly at first and then gradually it became easier (over months of daily practice). When I could walk again, I began practicing taijiquan. This was extremely uncomfortable physically and even more so mentally. But I persevered. It would have been easy to give up and stay in a more comfortable place, but I've never been one to be satisfied with that. Progress was very slow and often painful. After two years, I was almost 100% recovered. To this day, I persist in moving forward. I want to be BETTER than I was before the stroke! And I'll get there.

I've had students who had lost an arm or a leg. They never allowed that to stop them from training. A friend of mine, Mr. Tony Brown, is a very well-known and respected teacher of Hung-Ga kung-fu...and he has only one arm. But his skill is very high! He didn't use his “handicap” as an excuse or extra baggage. It is what it is, and he continues to train and teach to this day.

Some people argue that they can't stretch because of whatever, and they tell me that vigorous stretching isn't really necessary or even particularly helpful, anyway. Some have even argued that stretching is actually counter-productive to progress in a given martial art. To me, the translation is, “It's uncomfortable and I don't like to do it.” Many people (probably most) find standing in zhan-zhuang (stake standing) postures to be quite painful. Oftentimes, they'll then creatively come up with a reason(s) why they can't (or shouldn't) do it... same translation.

At the same time, train smart. Train hard, but not foolishly. And never haphazardly. However, be aware of the pitfall of the Comfort Zone.

You have to have a goal. Without a goal, you don't know where you're going and a compass won't help. So what's bigger, your excuses or your goals? Don't stunt your own growth by staying in a warm, fuzzy place...

BATTLE OF THE INTELLECT

 by Phillip Starr

It's not a new thing...in days long since past, samurai would sometimes sneer at a fellow who claimed to be highly skilled in swordsmanship and say something like, “He smells of books.” What they meant was that the self-proclaimed swordsman had no genuine, practical skill because (they believed) that he'd spent most of his time reading about various “intellectual aspects” of the art rather than pouring sweat in daily practice. We have much the same thing today, especially in the internal martial arts community...

The internal martial arts (such as taijiquan, xingyiquan, and baguazhang, as well as a few others) easily lend themselves to to various and sundry abstruse concepts and principles largely because the early writings about them tend to be rather cryptic. In fact, some of them are so enigmatic that the Chinese themselves have some difficulty understanding exactly what they mean.

Thus, there began innumerable opinions, discussions, and arguments about these arts...most of which have little or nothing to do with their original purposes and/or how they function. Groups of “internalist snobs” came into existence and although they could (and still do) talk the talk, most of them certainly can't walk the walk. They prefer to talk about their theories and intellectualize about these arts rather than sweat.

Many of them have all but forgotten (or ignored) the fact that these arts were created as martial arts, which are to be used for fighting rather than improving the functioning of one's liver, finding one's inner child, or bringing one to a state of near-nirvana. They were intended to kill an assailant as quickly as possible. Period. And the manner(s) in which they were to be applied towards this end are often more than a little gruesome.

Taijiquan, which is renowned for improving health, is actually a very vicious martial discipline. It's techniques can be very brutal and even lethal but only IF the practitioner studies and learns their applications...and then practices them in a “controlled violence” manner.

Many practitioners (and teachers, as well) of baguazhang become enamored with the concept of relating the art to the eight trigrams (for which the art was named). This idea was first formulated by a fellow named Zheng-Xingsan who was a well-known scholar and student of Yin-Fu. After the collapse of the Qing government in 1911, Zheng found himself suddenly unemployed. To keep himself occupied, he wrote down everything he had learned and tried to formulate a relationship between the boxing art and the Yijing (the ancient “Book of Changes”, which is based on the study of 64 hexagrams, which are formed by placing one trigram atop another. There are 64 possibilities.). This poor guy really needed a girlfriend.

Cheng-Tinghua was influenced by Ji-Fengxiang, who was an astrologer and who was also both a friend and a student. The result was that the theories of the Yijing and its eight trigrams, the sixty-four hexagrams, and their alleged relationship to the boxing art became closely related to virtually all aspects of training. This would inspire another of Cheng's students, Sun-Lutang, to further expound upon these ideas. Sun became very well-educated in Taoist forms of qigong and also made a detailed study of the Yijing. Between 1915 and 1927, he authored several texts that tried to show a definitive relationship between certain Taoist philosophies and the internal martial arts. Ultimately, it was Cheng who coined the name “baguazhang” for this art, which was originally named “zhuanzhang” (“turning palms”) by the founder, Dong Haiquan.

The sad truth is that there is no relationship between the eight trigrams and this boxing art. It's the same for taijiquan, which actually has very little to do with the cosmological principle(s) of Yin and Yang, and xingyiquan, which is NOT based on the “five elements.” Sun Lutang is responsible for that idea and in later life, he admitted that he had done it to confuse people so that only the most worthy students would learn the true art. Even so, most contemporary xingyi practitioners still adhere to Sun's deception...

It all makes for a lot of intellectual material that may be fun to discuss or bicker about, but it's all pointless. Sweat is the key; not intellectualizing.

AT WHAT PRICE?

 By Phillip Starr

Over the decades that I've been involved in the martial ways, I've watched as many of its traditions have been cast aside (or ignored) by many contemporary teachers and students (largely Western). This is, I feel, a shame because there are real reasons for certain traditions. We Westerners often tend to look down on such things as having little, if any, real value and the times in which we live don't seem to hold things like tradition in very high regard. Sadly, I think this has contributed considerably to the deterioration of the martial ways.

In our quest for what's “new and improved” and what we believe is “practical and realistic”, we are losing the real spirit of the martial arts. And much more. I used to tell my students if all they were interested in was self-defense – something that was new and improved, and practical - they should buy a firearm. There's no centuries-old traditions for this device and it is very practical. No argument there!

But what we do isn't merely for self-defense; it's an ART that dates back hundreds of years. There are actually valid reasons for many of the “traditions” but they're hard for the casual observer to see. But they're important and some of them contain what we might call “secrets.”

Take iaido (the art of drawing and cutting with the Japanese sword), for instance. It looks simple enough to do; you simply grasp the scabbard with your left hand and draw/cut with your right, right? No. It isn't nearly that simple. For example, the hakama (what looks like a long skirt worn by practitioners of several traditional Japanese martial arts) must be worn and tied just so. “Why?”, many Westerners would ask. “It's just part of the training uniform, after all.”

Actually, it's much more than that; the cloth cords that are used to ties it round your waist are actually used to SUPPORT the sword! If they're worn incorrectly, the sheathed sword can easily slip into an unsupported position, making it difficult (and slow) to draw. Back in the day, that would mean the difference between life and losing important body parts. The tradition of donning the hakama (which can take more than a year to learn to do properly) is actually a secret to acquiring real skill in the art. Who woulda thunk? Certainly not a Westerner.

I encourage you to study the traditions of your chosen art and strive to find out the WHY as well as the HOW.

A MATTER OF KOKORO

 by Phillip “Pete” Starr

When facing an opponent, whether it be a contest or an actual conflict, what is your ultimate goal? Of course, most people will answer, “To win.” That's understandable. However, according to the famed Japanese martial arts master, Hino sensei (who I met in 2016) as well as numerous masters of times long past, such desires must be eliminated if one aspires to genuine mastery.

The Japanese word “kokoro” is known as “xin” in Chinese and is generally translated as “heart, mind, spirit.” But it also refers to much more; it is thought to be the center/creator of all emotions and thoughts. Moreover, it is said to be the sensitivity that is fundamental and common to all living creatures. It is the essence of the invisible that gives birth to the visible.

The legendary swordmaster, Shirai Toru (1782-1843) explained: “Even after years of arduous training to attain the state of “engaging in emptiness and forgetting the body”, I find myself back to square one when I encounter a very aggressive opponent. The emptiness is gone and I am filled with the desire to beat him – an evil attitude takes over me.”

Hino sensei tells us that this “challenge” can never be overcome through regular practice, no matter how often you do it. When you're focused on the visible forms of movement (technique), the real challenge cannot even be clearly seen. You will see it (and the answer to it) when you see it. Shirai eventually found it.

Katsu Kaishu (1823-1899) recalled his encounter with Shirai:...”This man's swordmanship has some kind of spiritual power, to put it dramatically. When he swung his sword in a fight, his poise, dignity, and sacred spirit filled his sword to the very tip. It was such a mysterious thing...I could not even stand in front of him. I wanted to achieve that same state, so I devoted all my time and effort to practice. But I couldn't reach it at all. Frustrated, I asked Shirai about it. He laughed and said, 'You feel fear towards my sword because you have knowledge and experience in the art of sword fighting. A person with no ego and no thought has no fear. That is the so-called secret of sword fighting.'”

Shirai made it clear that the true Way was not to be found in the maneuvers or techniques. Katsu, who was a highly skilled swordsman, couldn't even stand before him. Shirao also tells Katsu that the cause of Katsu's fear was due to his experience with the sword and that “a person with no ego and no thought has no fear.” Shirai was an extraordinary swordsman who had studied at the feet of Terada Muneari, a master of incredible skill and understanding. Shirai determined that his preconceived ideas about fighting had blocked his understanding. When he turned 28, he realized that relying on strength, ferocity, and technique alone was not the Way. That's what brought him to Terada. He wanted to free himself from his habitual ways of thinking.

When you see someone do something remarkable, you ask yourself, “How can I learn to do that?” If you fail to ask, “What must I do to achieve that skill?”, your preconceptions set in and interpret for you what you've seen so that you believe you understand it. This forms a block against your growth and development.

Hino sensei said that it's about facing yourself face-to-face. Many people are loathe or even fearful of doing this. Theirs will be a short path. You must be willing to do this and to eliminate your “habits” and preconceived ideas.