HEALING AND HURTING

 by Phillip Starr

In days long since past, the village kung-fu teacher also frequently served as the village doctor. He might not have had much knowledge regarding the treatment of many ailments but he was usually quite skilled in dealing with various injuries. Many teachers were highly skilled in one of the fields of traditional Chinese medicine; acupuncture, tui-na (remedial massage), herbal medicine, and of course, qigong. This was a tradition that continued for many generations until fairly recently.

In his well-known book, Iron and Silk. author Mark Salzman tells the story of what happened when he went into a local park (in China) to practice. In a short time, he was surrounded by many people who asked if he would treat their injuries and/or illnesses. He knew nothing about Chinese medicine but the people would have none of it; tradition held that anyone who possessed skill in martial arts was also trained in traditional medicine!

As karate developed in Okinawa, various aspects of Chinese medical therapy were taught along with it. The herbal preparations were often combined with local herbal mixtures and techniques to produce therapies that were uniquely Okinawan.

In my first book, The Making Of A Butterfly (those of you who haven't read it should pick up a copy!), I relate the story of watching my teacher perform acupuncture on his lovely wife. Scared me to death! Remember - I was just a young American who had never even HEARD of shoving needles into people like that! But my teacher assured me that this was a very common form of Chinese medicine and over the years, he taught me as best he could. I would later construct a small clinic within my martial arts school and treat many, many patients.

It is terribly unfortunate that the tradition of teaching healing techniques along with martial arts techniques and forms has, for the most part, been lost. I require all of my senior students to learn certain aspects of Chinese medicine as well as first-aid and CPR. It is important for them to understand what Mei (my teacher's beautiful wife) once told me; that healing and hurting are two sides of the same coin. To truly understand and acquire real martial skill, one must understand both sides of the coin. And, my teacher added, as we move down the path of life we all have more opportunities to apply healing skills than destructive, fighting skills.

Moreover, the principles of Chinese and old, traditional Okinawan martial arts are based upon the principles that are found in their traditional healing arts. To gain a true and full understanding of these principles, one must study the healing arts. And, I would add, to truly understand the essence and spirit of martial arts, one must acquire some measure of skill in the arts of healing.

HARD vs. SOFT

 by Phillip Starr

Is your style of karate or kung-fu considered a “hard style” or a “soft style?” Most Western practitioners of these disciplines are able to answer this question in a heartbeat. They may elaborate on the subject a bit, but they immediately understand the question and what it implies; “hard styles” rely on the development and application of brute, muscular force while “soft styles” emphasize relaxation, minimal muscular effort, and the utilization of qi (internal power). I remember when the terms “hard style” and “soft style” were first introduced to Western martial arts enthusiasts by the martial arts media back in the 1960's. I'd never heard of these phrases and I asked my teacher, Master W. C. Chen about them. I was astounded when I saw that he was every bit as confused as I was. These appellations have never been used in China or any other part of Asia. They were, as nearly as I can determine, created by the martial arts magazines of the day.

Some karate and kung-fu enthusiasts elaborate a bit further and explain that “hard styles” utilize techniques that travel in straight lines and “soft styles” promote the use of circular techniques. I've never understood how anyone could accept this terribly flawed explanation and when would ask for some elaboration, the answers I received were almost comical. “We use straight punches”, they would say. I would counter this statement and remind them that the so-called “soft styles” utilize exactly the same type of forefist thrust. Moreover, this type of direct punch employs a (circular) turn of the hips as well as a (circular) screwing motion of the wrist just prior to contact.

Not to be so easily dissuaded, they would argue that their kicks were directed along a straight path. They would happily demonstrate a front snap kick and a side thrust kick as proof of this. I countered easily and showed them that both kicks travel along arcs (as they must, since they are chambered from the height of the kicker's knee). I would also show them techniques such as sword-hand and backfist strikes, both of which travel along semi-circular paths.

Even so, they would not be deterred. “Our blocking techniques are circular but our punches are straight”, they argued. I had to shrug my shoulders. There's no point in quibbling with a closed mind. Their convictions were based on remarks made in their favorite monthly martial arts publications, so there could be no doubt as to their validity, right?

You bet.

These were the same magazines that avowed that “soft styles” such as taijiquan and baguazhang didn't require the application of any muscular effort whatsoever. Many aspiring martial arts masters understood this to mean that any “98 lb. weakling” could easily become an expert at time travel by knocking his larger opponent into next week! The few taiji schools that were available were soon packed to the gills with students and the cash flowed quickly and easily. But the truth got lost in there somewhere.

Some karateists prided themselves on practicing systems that were touted as being both hard and soft. Goju-ryu is a prime example. “Go” means “hard”, they would say. And “ju” means “soft.” So there you have it, right?

No, not quite. Like the early practitioners of judo, who believed that the “ju” of judo meant “soft, gentle”, they didn't bother to learn something of the Japanese language and culture. The word “ju” does NOT mean “soft.” Not by a long shot. Rather, it refers to a type of pliability such as we might see with the flexible limbs of a young tree. Push against it and it gives way easily. It does not, however, collapse entirely. When you release it, the limb will snap back to it's original shape. This kind of elasticity is what “ju” refers to.

All martial arts, from karate to kendo, aikido, kung-fu and kendo underscore the importance of doing more with less. That's a fancy way of saying that one shouldn't use any more (muscular) strength than is absolutely necessary. Ever. A highly skilled practitioner of karate, which is generally referred to as a “hard style”, will perform his techniques with celerity but without excessive brute force. I have trained and socialized with some of the finest karate masters of the last century such as Hidetaka Nishiyama and Seiyu Oyata. Their techniques were crisp and quick, delivered with minimal muscular effort. To the novice, such techniques would appear to be lacking any real destructive power but those senior practitioners who had had the dubious pleasure of being on the receiving end of those techniques knew better.

At the same time, I have known a great many practitioners of taijiquan who prided themselves on their ability to push a foe some distance. The fact is that their pushing technique was seriously flawed and was more of what I call a”shove” rather than a “push.” And in any case, I've never known a push to end a serious conflict! Taijiquan, as well as baguazhang and xingyiquan (the three classical “sister” styles that are generally referred to as “soft” or “internal”) utilize a wide variety of punching, striking, and kicking techniques that, when applied correctly, are terrifically powerful. But if you're thinking of finding someone who can demonstrate such skill to you, you'd best plan to travel for a long, long time. Such skill nowadays in the “soft styles” is extremely rare, even in China.

The terms “external style/school” (waijia) and “internal style/school” (neijia) are often used interchangably with “hard” and “soft”, respectively. Again, such phrases are rarely used in China. They were originally coined by a famous teacher of the neijia, Sun-Lutang, back in the 1930's. Some people argue that they actually refer to where a given style originated; those that originated outside of China were called “waijia” and those that were native to the Middle Kingdom (that's China for you rednecks) were referred to as “neijia.” Put simply, this argument is wrong.

Sun wanted to differentiate between styles that rely on the development of “coiling power” (chansi-jin) and the manipulation of small, inconspicuous, internal tissues and those that focus solely on the use of the larger, overt muscle groups. Such a distinction does, in fact, exist. Most contemporary karate styles do not utilize coiling power at all. However, my research indicates that the early Okinawan forms of karate did. Over the generations, most of this information has been lost or forgotten. However, this would qualify such styles as forms of neijia! That statement probably won't help me win any martial arts popularity contests, but it's true.

So, hard or soft, internal or external, what counts is that you learn to perform your techniques and form correctly. Hard and soft eventually become one. And THAT is where real skill lies.

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.

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...