GOOD TEACHERS, WORTHY STUDENTS

 by Phillip Starr

When I was finishing my first book, “The Making Of A Butterfly”, I asked my literary agent about the odds of finding a publisher who might be interested in it. He chuckled. “Authors often worry a lot about whether or not they'll find a publisher who will accept their work. The truth is that publishers are always on the lookout for good writers! They need you as much as you need them.” As years passed and I published more books, I realized the truth of his words. I now pass them on to aspiring authors.

The same thing is true of martial arts teachers and students. Students seek instructors who are eminently qualified. At the same time, good martial arts teachers are looking for students who have what it takes to learn what they teach. This is a terribly difficult task, much moreso than the student's search for a good instructor.

At the time of this writing, I lived in southern China. To be quite frank, real martial arts in China are, for all intents and purposes, dead. Anyone who says differently is either lying or has never lived here. There is a tiny handful of teachers who are skilled in the authentic martial ways still alive, but they are as rare as hen's teeth. I was contacted by another American who had been living in the nightmare of Beijing. He'd been here for quite a number of years and had been training with an older gentleman who is/was likely one of (or perhaps, the) highest authorities on the Yin style of baguazhang.

The teacher was on the wrong side of eighty and his health was beginning to fail. My friend told me that he wasn't sure how much longer his teacher would be with us. This highly knowledgeable instructor had only four students and two of them were foreigners! How sad. My friend sighed and said that his teacher had a great wealth of knowledge but because of the lack of dedicated pupils, he'd probably take much of it with him to his grave. This how martial arts systems slowly die out.

My old friend, Master Seiyu Oyata (dec.), a 10^th dan in Ryukyu kempo, had a similar story. As a young man, he had learned tui-te from the legendary Chojun Miyagi. It was, he was told, the form of tui-te that belonged to the Miyagi clan (of which he was actually a member, but that's a story for another time). Oyata said the only other form of tui-te that he knew of was from the family of Motobu. There were three Motobu brothers, the youngest of which was Choki. The two older brothers disapproved of Choki's penchant for fighting and wouldn't teach him the family tui-te system. Instead, they passed it down to one of their students whose family name was Uyehara. When I first met Master Oyata, Master Uyehara was in his 90's and still living in Okinawa. According to Master Oyata, Uyehara had no worthy students to whom he felt he could teach the Motobu clan's method of tui-te.

Good teachers and good students need each other.

GETTING THE FEEL OF IT

 by Phillip Starr

Once a student had learned to perform a number of fundamental techniques correctly, my teacher would emphasize the movement and shifting of the body.  For instance, I recall practicing pengquan (the basic punching technique of xingyiquan) with my classmates.  It was a basic technique we'd practiced many times before and we didn't really have to "think" much about how to do it.  We just fired one punch after another, trying to maximize the striking power of our fists.

     Sifu Chen walked over to us and quietly observed our practice for a short time.  That was usually a bad sign and this time was no different. 

     He held out his fist, pointed at it, and said, "Don't think of power out here!"

     Fine...so just where do we concentrate our power???

     Chen then grasped his belly with both hands and said, "Power is in here!  Concentrate in here!  FEEL in here!"

     I guess we all looked equally confused because Chen sighed (another bad sign) and walked up to one of my classmates.

     "Punch," he said.  "Punch strong."

     My classmate shot out a punch which I thought was darned sharp.  And strong.  Clearly, Sifu Chen disagreed because he shook his head and the look on his face was a bit sour.  He looked at his student as if he was a complete dunce.

     "No," he said. Grabbing the student's fist and shaking it, he repeated, "Don't think about power out here!"  Then, pointing to his pupil's lower abdomen, he said, "Power comes from here!   Think of the movement in here!" 

     Even after they have acquired a fair measure of skill with the basic techniques, many students tend to focus their attention on the striking weapon/surface during practice.  That is, they concentrate on the fist when they punch or they direct all of their attention on the striking surface of the foot when they kick.  If they've learned the technique properly, there's really no need for this.  It's akin to looking at the accelerator, brake pedal, and speedometer once you have learned to drive.  You shouldn't need to.  You learn to "feel" what you need to do rather than looking at it. 

     In executing the various techniques, emphasis is eventually shifted to the body movement (I refer to these as "body actions" and there are eight of them) and FEELING it...the technique is executed FROM THERE, from the soles of the feet and the core of the body rather than with the fist or foot. 

     This is how you learn to gradually "condense" the body's movements, making them smaller and smaller so that the power which is generated is more concentrated and hence, more explosive. If you spread a flammable or explosive substance out over a large surface it can be very dangerous when it's ignited...but pour it into a small container, light it up, and see what happens! 

     You need to pay attention to the pressure in your feet/foot when you execute your technique.  Feel the body action and strive to make it sharper and faster as you feel how it connects to your feet and legs, your waist and your “gua”, which is the inguinal crease.  Feel how they're interconnected, how the movement inside your body originates in the soles of your feet and how it moves up the legs (especially pay attention to the feeling in your ankles and knees), your waist, back, shoulders (are they rounded forward properly)....

     FEEL the movement of your dantien.  Remember, it's like a ball which can turn and roll in any direction.  Learn to control its movement.  Don't let it just move willy-nilly on its own.  If you do, your movement will be unbalanced, sloppy, and uncontrolled.  And this should happen very quickly, like the snapping of a bullwhip.   

     Then look at your breathing and how it connects to your (internal) movement.  It's not just a noise.  It's much more than just exhaling so much air.  It's concentrated power! 

     Don't concern yourself with your striking knuckles, the ball of your foot, or whatever.  Those are just the surfaces that happen to make contact with your target.  If you focus your mind on these things, you'll likely "overpower" your technique, making it top-heavy and thus, unstable, overly-tense and wooden (which kills much of your power), awkward, and even slow. 

     Learn to feel what's happening INSIDE.  Train to control what's happening INSIDE.  Train just one technique at a time, over and over until you get the FEELof it...INSIDE.

GET REAL!

 By Phillip Starr

I don't know about you, but I'm really tired of hearing from and seeing pointless articles penned by practitioners of so-called “reality martial arts.” That moniker suggests that there must also be “fantasy-based martial arts” and many of the “reality” crowd would quickly point to traditional martial ways as being just that. Oftentimes, they come up with some fairly creative reasons to lend their position some measure of validity. These include:

• Some “traditional” techniques don't really work “on the street.”

• Nowadays, people fight differently than they did back in the “old days.”

• Training in a proper uniform in a smooth-floored dojo is very different from the conditions under which real self-defense occurs.

• Learning to “control” one's techniques can become a dangerous habit. Practicing control will cause one to subsequently “pull” his punches in an actual encounter.

• If students are never allowed to experience what it's like to get hit, how can they expect to survive a real fight?

• Actual combat is extremely stressful, both physically and mentally. The “lizard brain” concept is pushed to the fore. This idea tells us that because of the mental stress and fear involved in a real encounter, one loses the ability to make fine, precise movements such as striking to various vital points and so on.

  

And so on, ad nauseum. Frankly, it's my opinion that most of the people making such statements have had rather limited experience in traditional martial disciplines, if any at all. Let's look at the aforementioned arguments and see what's inside...

The statement about traditional techniques being useless in actual self-defense is patently absurd. If they are flawed, why would our martial arts forefathers have continued to practice them ? Yeah, I can see a scenario where one of them is confronted by a couple of street-smart thugs. In the midst of the battle, he attempts a technique and is immediately knocked down. “Wow!”, he thinks. “What an ineffective technique! It nearly got me killed! I'm going to continue practicing it everyday!”

Yeah, right. The techniques that were passed down through the generations were forged, tested, and tempered in battle. On the other hand, the ineffective techniques (and I'm sure there were many) didn't make it to the present day because their exponents would have quickly tossed them away after suffering a painful defeat. I imagine a good number of them were killed in battle and took their flawed techniques and tactics with them to their graves.

The claim that traditional techniques don't work in the “real world” is often made by people who haven't trained extensively in the traditional forms and/or who have experienced considerable difficulty with some of the time-honored methods. I remember having a LOT of trouble with several techniques when I was a beginner. I lacked the coordination, balance, and/or muscle tone to perform them correctly. But I believed my teacher, who insisted that these techniques would be essential parts of my personal arsenal and I continued to practice them. Sure, there were times that I considered giving up but then I'd hear his voice in my head and I'd keep at it until I eventually learned how to make them work.

The claim that people fight different nowadays than they did in the past is equally nonsensical. For starters, how could anyone know for sure just how people fought each other back in the day? And the truth is that in so far as personal combat is concerned, people haven't changed much over time. Sure, we now have weapons that didn't exist 500 years ago (such as firearms) but actual hand-to-hand fighting has always been vicious. I daresay that it may have been a bit more brutal in the distant past because law enforcement wasn't quite up to the standards that we enjoy today and lawsuits were for injuries incurred in a fight were pretty much unknown.

I will be the first to agree that training in a nice dojo in a proper practice uniform is substantially different than fighting “in the street.” However, it's well to remember that the practice uniform was designed with two main things in mind...durability and safety. T-shirts don't last long in a class where grappling techniques are taught. It's also a good idea to conduct classes in a safe place where everyone will be sheltered from the elements.

As regards the issue of pulling punches and kicks just short of contact becoming a habit, that's a very old argument that's never managed to hold any water at all. In my fifty-plus years of training and teaching traditional martial arts, I've never known or even heard of anyone who's had this experience. To counter the loss of this argument, many “reality martial arts” advocate permitting students to strike each other with what I consider to be rather excessive contact. This is really quite dangerous and instructors should remember that injured students can't train.

Moreover, beginning students whose physical, mental, or spiritual strength is lacking will soon give up on training altogether. I wonder how many of these “reality martial arts” instructors would happily practice knife-fighting or Japanese fencing with live blades? And how about a combat shooting course!?

And then there's the “lizard brain” argument. If this argument is valid, why is it that soldiers and peace officers are taught to use the small sights front and rear on their weapons? That requires some real concentration, doesn't it? Such people, who are engaged in an occupation that may very well place them in conditions of incredible mental and physical stress, are also taught to perform numerous other tasks that run against the grain of the “lizard brain” argument. How are they able to effect these tasks in the heat of combat? It's because of something called TRAINING and that's exactly why traditional martial arts practitioners do it on a regular basis.

If some people enjoy dressing up like some kind of wannabe commandos and practicing self-defense in their combat boots and camouflage trousers, that's their business. But what they're doing is not what I would call a martial art, per se. There's no real “art” in it.

THE FORGOTTEN KUMITE

 by Phillip Starr

Most of you are likely more than a little familiar with the usual forms of “kumite”, which actually refers to “group practice” rather than freestyle sparring. Certainly, you've practiced both sanbon kumite and ippon kumite (“three-step practice fighting” and “one-step practice fighting”, respectively) many, many times. Both the attack and the defensive maneuver(s) and technique are prearranged; both participants know what's going to happen, they know what's expected of them, and they do their best to execute flawless, perfectly timed technique.

And most of you have also practiced with the newest form of kumite, which is known as “jyu-kumite” (freestyle or unrehearsed practice fighting), wherein both participants are free to move about and do their best to “score” on each other by delivering a strong, controlled technique. It is akin to sparring in the sport of boxing except that the blows do not land with full force, lest the participants injure each other.

There is, however, another member of this kumite family that is rarely mentioned. It was once a common training exercise but over the generations it has been forgotten or brushed aside. This is most unfortunate because its practice can greatly enhance the student's skill in jyu-kumite and consequently, actual combat. This is formally known as jyu-ippon kumite (freestyle one-step practice fighting).

Back in the 1950's, 60's, and 70's, Westerners who ventured to Japan to enhance their skill in, and knowledge of, karate were amazed at how easily their Japanese counterparts were able to trounce them when they engaged in jyu-kumite. What were the Japanese doing differently in their training? The answer is relatively simple;freestyle one-step was practiced very regularly in the Japanese dojos.

When karate was first introduced to the West by teachers from the Orient, it was discovered that Westerners weren't particularly interested in kata (they didn't understand it at all) and their only reason for training in sanbon and ippon kumite was to learn how to apply the various techniques. Beyond that, they simply weren't interested. They wanted to learn how to FIGHT and if their current instrucgtor wanted to waste their time practicing fancy katas and basic training exercises, they'd leave the school and find someone else.

To avoid losing too many students, teachers stripped down their training regimens so that students could engage in freestyle sparring at a fairly early stage. Freestyle one-step was one of the things that was tossed out the window. What a pity!

It has been said that jyu-ippon kumite is the “bridge” between formal three and one-step practice fighting and freestyle practice fighting. This is true enough but I maintain that freestyle one-step fighting is a special training exercise unto itself and promotes the development of supreme fighting skills. In all the many years that I have taught martial arts, I have emphasized regular and vigorous practice of this training method. Students learn to respond instantly to an attack and apply their classical techniques almost as if they were engaged in kata practice.

There are several different ways of practicing freestyle one-step and they are thoroughly outlined in my third book, “MARTIAL MANEUVERS.” If you don't yet have a copy, save up for your lunch money and purchase one. However, I will attempt to briefly outline the basic methods of practice here.

Jyu-ippon kumite does not necessarily begin as if the participants are about to engage in jyu-kumite. They exchange bows and then assume their favored pre-fighting posture (or, “on guard”). It is the attacker's job to execute his single attacking technique to the best of his ability while also trying to score on his partner. He is permitted to strike whenever he wishes to do so and may use either hand or foot (depending upon the nature of the attacking technique, which is agreed upon prior to practice). He must strive to perform a flawless technique with proper timing and distance. Once he executes his technique, he should “freeze” momentarily. He mustn't make any attempt to defend himself against his partner's defensive technique.

The receiver must not attempt to strike the attacker until an attack is imminent or being delivered. When the attack occurs, he must respond instantly, without the slightest hesitation. And he must do his best to execute a textbook-perfect technique from a stable platform (stance) with perfect distance, timing, and power.

• Attack Fixed, Defense Fixed

In this beginning method, both the attack and defense are “fixed” (prearranged). This is much like ippon kumite except that both participants are free to move about as they wish and the Receiver does not know when the attack will occur. Until students can perform this basic practice method skillfully, they should not attempt to proceed any further.

• Attack Fixed, Defense Unfixed

In this more advanced method, the attack remains fixed but the receiver is free to respond with a maneuver and technique of his choice. Again, both participants must strive for perfect technique. If the receiver's distance, timing, or power is bad, it is counted as a “miss.”

• Attack Unfixed, Defense Unfixed

This advanced practice routine allows both participants to use a technique of their own choosing. However, the requirements are the same as previously; both persons must strive to execute flawless a technique. This method of practice has actually been turned into a form of sport, which, in my opinion, is much more demanding and difficult than the usual jyu-kumite form of competition.

You can easily see how this method of training actually bridges the gap between kata and jyu-kumite. It can also be employed by those who practice grappling arts such as shuai-jiao, judo, or aikido. The keys to successful use of this method are endeavoring to execute perfect technique and frequent, regular practice. If students will engage in this training routine on a regular basis, they will soon notice a substantial difference in their level of fighting expertise!

Everything You Need To Know...

 by Phillip Starr

  Some years ago there was book written which was entitled, "Everything I Ever Needed To Know About Life I Learned In Kindergarten." It was a beautiful little book and it held true to its title. The author spoke of learning about things like courtesy and consideration, sharing with others, and my favorite part - milk and cookies followed by a nap.

     Many years ago at the First National Yiliquan Seminar, I made a statement which, I think, came as something of a surprise to many participants - but only because they'd never thought about it.  I said that the whole core of the system (and probably most martial disciplines) is taught in the period we know as "basic training." As we all took time to think about that statement, we all realized how true it is.

     This statement doesn't indicate that we necessarily master the many things we learn as beginners; rather, it means simply that we are told about them, shown how to perform them, and encouraged to practice them every day.

    Which most students don't.

     Thus, the "mysteries" of the art remain as mysteries because so few martial arts enthusiasts neglect their daily practice and fail to look deeply into the art.  But consider what is shown to beginning students of Yiliquan (and those of you who practice another martial form can list the "core" items that are taught to beginners in your respective arts):

* Courtesy
* Basic Techniques (The most basic techniques upon which all other techniques are  
   built.)
* Basic Body Actions and Body Mechanics (which provide power to the basic 
   techniques)
* Proper Breathing (provides power to the techniques and enhances overall balance)
* Basic Stances (how to stand in a balanced manner)
* Basic Stepping Methods (footwork - how to move from one stance to another)
* Moving From One-Point
* How To Fall (breakfalls - there's more to this than meets the eye)
* Fundamentals of qigong (4 Principles and basic exercises)

     You'll notice that the items listed above are all interrelated; they "dovetail" into each other although a beginner cannot see how this is possible. Senior practitioners will immediately notice the relationships between these items.

     It's obviously way too much for anyone to thoroughly learn in a short time. In fact, this material will require years of regular and rigorous practice. And almost everything that is taught to the student after this stage is just frosting; training that promotes a deeper understanding of the items on this basic list and fosters the development of real skill.

     As students progress through the system and learn more complex material they often lose sight of the basic material they were shown as novices. What they fail to understand is that what they learned as a beginner must be applied to everything they learn from that point on.

     They must learn how to apply these things to their forms which become increasingly complex. They have to learn to apply them when they practice formal Three and One Step Fight, Freestyle One-Step, Freestyle Sparring (!!!), Self-Defense, Weapons Forms, and so on.

     For instance, take a minute and run through one of your forms. When you've finished go back and see if you used the correct form of breathing. Were you moving from your One-Point? Were your body actions correct? And bear in mind that you must practice each form until it can be executed perfectly without having to check each of these items!

     That kind of skill can't be developed overnight. It can't be developed through haphazard practice, either.

     Senior martial arts practitioners don't possess any secret knowledge. They don't practice highly advanced, secret techniques. Instead, they simply practice the basics. Every. Day. Everything they really needed to know about their respective martial disciplines they probably learned from their teachers in the earliest stages of training. They've simply learned how to fit everything together.

     One of my senior students and I attended an iaido (the art of drawing and cutting with the Japanese sword) tournament and testing in Council Bluffs, Iowa. I was told that it was probably the largest such event in the entire United States that year! Anyway, during the examinations (which were held for all grades up to and including 6th dan) I noticed that ALL EXAMINEES were made to perform the most basic iaido kata known simply as "Mae" (meaning "Forward, Front").  Without going into a lot of detail about the minutae of this particular kata, it begins in a kneeling position. The practitioner comes up to one knee and draws the sword in a horizontal cut with one hand. The sword is then brought back, gripped with both hands, and an overhead cut is executed. The swordsman then rises to his/her feet, performs a blood shake (to shake imaginary blood from the blade) before re-sheathing it.

     It sounds simple enough to do and by the time an iaido student reaches the stage of sankyu or so, he or she can perform it with considerable skill. But consider...someone testing for 5th or 6th dan is also required to do it. Such a person has put 25 years or more in training! You'd think they'd have it right by that time, wouldn't you?

     Sure. They can do it correctly. But they have to do it MORE correctly than someone of a lower grade. All of the items they learned as beginners have to become an integral part of their movement and technique without conscious effort. IT must become them and THEY must become it.

     Moreover, the essence of all other techniques and kata are contained within this first, basic kata. Once this one is truly mastered, so mastery of the others follows easily.

     Everything you really need to know about your martial art, you learned in kindergarten...

ETIQUETTE

 by Phillip Starr

I would hope that the majority of my readers would be more than a little familiar with the basic forms of etiquette that are typically practiced within the training hall. Students line up prior to the start of class, bow to the instructor, and then begin the training session. The same thing is done at the conclusion of the training period. Most of the participants don't give it much of a second thought. It's simply a way of “showing respect” to the teacher; an “Eastern oddity” that is practiced more as a form of tradition and simple courtesy than anything else. It requires no more than a few seconds, anyway. No big deal. Or...is it?

To the average person, such quaint customs are nothing more than polite gestures that they are expected to learn and then regurgitate at the appropriate time. Usually, they are devoid of any real substance; they are regarded as old-fashioned, cultural oddities that were developed and practiced by our ancestors. However, to the bugeisha (a person who practices the traditional martial ways of the East), they are much more than that. Much. More.

For instance, let's take the beginning of class. Students are ordered to line up. Their lines should be straight and students adopt the position of “readiness.” In some schools, the most senior student (who may assist the instructor) stands off to one side at a right angle to the students and the instructor. Your stance should never look limp or sloppy. Your uniform should be neat and clean. Your body, mind, and spirit are held in a state of readiness. It is a preparation for learning, a preparation to face yourself. Your eyes should be directed straight ahead but peripheral vision must be maintained. You should not shift their eyes from side to side or turn your head. You remain focused on your instructor.

At this point, some schools have the students and the instructor perform a standing bow. Others, particularly Japanese disciplines, order students to kneel down (and yes, there is a special way of doing this) in the position of seiza with the feet tucked under the buttocks. Beginners will find this position more than a little uncomfortable but they must avoid any display of discomfort. To do so is to show that one's spirit is weak and in a martial arts school this is entirely unacceptable.

In Japanese schools the command of “mokuso!” is uttered by the instructor. Students sit quietly with their backs straight and their eyes almost shut. Many people refer to this as a period of meditation prior to the beginning of class but this is incorrect. Rather, it is a period of quiet introspection. It is way of leaving your mental and emotional “baggage” at the door so that it will not interfere with training and your ability to learn. It is a time for focusing on what you want to achieve during this particular class. You “clean” yourself and prepare to receive instruction.

After a short time, the teacher may turn to the front of the school (with his back to the students) and they all perform a formal kneeling bow to the front of school. He then turns to face the students again and they exchange bows to show respect for each other.

As with everything else in the training hall, there is a proper way to execute the standing and kneeling bows. For instance, I remember when I first received instruction in this ancient tradition. We were told that even when bowing, one must not take one's eyes off the opponent (or whomever one is bowing to). Thus, we craned our necks and rolled our eyes upwards when we bowed so as to keep our partners in view. As you might expect, my instruction came from a Westerner who didn't clearly understand how the proper bow is to be done. The first time I did this in front of a Japanese instructor, I was quickly corrected. To crane one's neck and raise the eyes as I was doing is considered very rude because it demonstrates an obvious mistrust of the person(s) to whom one is bowing. Rather, the neck is kept aligned with the back and the eyes are are allowed to drift slightly upwards (without raising the eyebrows) so as to allow a reasonably full view of the other person.

And of course, all movements must be performed from the tanden (in Chinese, dantien) so as to permit complete control over one's body at all times. Moving from this area, which is located about three finger-widths below the navel, not only grants full control over one's physical movements but it also affects one's mental and spiritual stability as well.

Regardless of procedure or the culture from which a given martial form originated, this act of exchanging bows is extremely important. In my opinion, it is vital to maintaining the spirit of the class because it sets the “tone” of the class and reminds us that we are about to engage in the practice of a special Eastern custom whose roots reach back to antiquity. Although not a drop of Eastern blood may course through our veins, we are links in a chain of a very special tradition and it is crucial that we keep that tradition intact so that it can be bequeathed to the next generation in its entirety.

I lived in China which, contrary to what many Westerners believe, is not “the land of bowing.” Japanese culture emphasizes bowing as a form of courtesy; Chinese culture does not. Thus, Chinese martial arts instruction generally does not begin with any kind of formal bowing. The lack of such “old-fashioned formalities” is readily apparent and it is my opinion that it has a negative impact on their training.

A formal training period concludes in much the same manner. Students line up and, in the case of most Japanese martial traditions, kneel down and the command of “mokuso!” is repeated. Students will take a few seconds to consider what they have learned and prepare themselves to re-enter their daily lives. The teacher and students then exchange bows. Students then rise and again adopt the position of “readiness” before being dismissed.

“Alright”, you say. “So, this is part and parcel of a martial arts class. It's a cute ritual but what has it got to do with living in the modern world? And the answer is, “More than you suspect.” Discipline and control are two of the key elements.

In this regard, discipline has to do with proper conduct and perhaps more importantly, self-control. The two go hand in hand and they are very important ingredients if you expect to enjoy a successful, satisfying life. These virtues are easy enough to nurture when you're healthy and in good spirits but the real test lies in your ability to cultivate them when you're not feeling well. After all, anyone can maintain a fair level of self-control when they're feeling “up” but it's another story when they're angry, frightened, frustrated, discouraged, depressed, or in pain. Learning to preserve your composure under such adverse conditions requires a fair measure of discipline and is one of the objectives of your training.

The discipline and control that are developed in the training hall should be carried over into your daily life where it will affect everything that you do, from how you stand up and sit down to how you drink your morning coffee, cook up some pasta, and even how you brush your hair. Of course, it also impacts the larger, more dynamic elements of your life such as how your perform your job and the relationship you have with everyone who walks into your world; your co-workers, your boss, your spouse, your friends, family, and ultimately...yourself.

And it all started with what seemed to be a simple bow.