SIMPLICITY

 by Yang Shuangxing

An important part of being a highly-skilled martial arts practitioner is the ability to see past what appear to be complicated movements and turn them into very simple ones. And one of the marks of a skilled instructor lies in his/her ability to explain and demonstrate a complicated movement or concept in a simple way, so that students can understand it more fully.

I can, and have, easily spend four hours or more teaching students how to execute a proper reverse punch. There's a LOT more to it than meets the eye and once a student has acquired a good deal of experience imitating the outer movement(s), she's ready to learn the less obvious but critical principles involved. When it's all put together, it seems rather complicated. And it is. But with enough practice, the rough edges are smoothed and polished and it becomes quite simple to do. This can't be accomplished in a week or a month, or even a year. Don't be concerned with how long it'll take; just practice. You'll get there eventually. And in time, you'll refer to it as a very “simple” technique.

The fundamental, “signature” exercise of baguazhang, walking the circle, looks and sounds like it's pretty simple. Beginners learn very quickly that it isn't... what LOOKS simple is a galaxy beyond what they expect. Eventually, if the instructor is worth his salt, it becomes very simple and feels “natural.”

“Simple” is a subjective term. What is simple for one person may be very complicated for another. Progress is made by learning step-by-step until that which seems complicated becomes simple. The key is repetition. After 10,000 repetitions, a movement becomes very simple. If you do that movement (say, a reverse punch) 100 times every day for a year it'll take about 3 years or so. That's also the average time it takes to reach the level of shodan (yiduan in Chinese)...

 

A SHODAN, BUT NO BLACK BELT?

By Phillip Starr

So...you've received your shodan in iaido (the art of drawing and cutting with the Japanese sword). You get a nice certificate...but no black belt, such as would be the

    case in karate or judo. What's the deal?

The koryu (traditional martial arts of Japan, which does not include newcomers like judo and karate) never awarded colored belts; instead, they awarded a “menkyo.” The menkyo ( 免許) refers to a license to teach within the school or ryu. This system dates back to the 8^th century. And although it is often thought to be used for martial arts, it was, and is, used for other Ways, such as sumi-e (painting), the tea ceremony (chado), flower arranging, kado (also known as ikebana, or flower arranging), and even calligraphy (shodo).

It should be mentioned that in Japan, there are no “kyu” grades (under shodan) for adults in arts such as iaido. I am unsure about arts such as chado and the others. In the U.S., kyu grades for iaido are given to adults, but not in Japan where such grades are only for children.

Moreover, you will never hear a genuine shodan (or above) practitioner of an art such as iaido or any of the koryu refer to him/her self as a “black belt.” There are no belts given for grading...only certificates. One may refer to oneself as a shodan or sandan, but no mention of a colored belt is ever made. And anyway, the obi (cotton sash) worn beneath the hakama to assist in supporting the sword is considered nothing more than a tool and may be any color, depending on one's taste.

Different martial art koryū use different license; one outline is:

• Okuiri : enter into art.

• Mokuroku : certificate, and entered into official rolls.

  • Sho Mokuroku

  • Hatsu Mokuroku

  • Go Mokuroku

• Menkyo: License.

  • Shoden Menkyo

  • Chuden Menkyo

  • Okuden Menkyo

  • Hiden Menkyo

Menkyo Kaiden: Around thirty years' experience

The “Menkyo Kaiden” ( 免許皆伝), (めんきょかいでん), is a Japanese term meaning “license of total transmission.” “Kaiden” ( 皆伝) means “initiation into an art or discipline.” It is a license used by a school of the koryu to indicate that the student has learned the art fully and has passed all aspects of his/her training. It's the highest level of license under the menkyo system; it isn't determined in terms of time spent in training, but how well one has mastered the system. This usually requires about 30 years or so of continuous training. The holder of the menkyo kaiden is often, but not always, the de facto successor to the soke (founder, headmaster) of the koryu system.

Modern aikido practitioners may be surprised to learn that although aikido does issue black belts, they are (or at least weren't) worn with the traditional hakama. To do so was considered...well...tacky, to say the least. But many Westerners, in their demand for recognition, do it anyway.

In China, colored belts were never given to denote one's “rank.” In fact, belts weren't provided at all. What we now call a “kung-fu uniform” is a replica of old Chinese streetwear. No “ranking system” ever existed until fairly recently, when the All-China Sports Committee developed a structure for those of “duan” (meaning “grade” and written with the same character as is used for the Japanese “dan”) ranking. This is applied according to standards set by the Committee, which based it on contemporary wushu standards. Within the traditional martial arts community, there is still no grading system, which creates as many problems as those it allegedly prevents.

RULES? IN A KNIFE FIGHT?

 By Phillip Starr

One of my favorite lines in the classic film, “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid”, starring Robert Redford and Paul Newman, occurred when the two return to their infamous “Hole in the Wall” gang after a botched train robbery. Newman finds that one of his gang members wants to take over the leadership. He's a huge, bulging fellow who challenges our hero to a knife fight...and he's holding a large bowie knife.

Butch says that before they begin, they've got to get the rules straight. The challenger is no intellectual giant and responds, “RULES? In a knife fight?” And Butch proceeds to beat the bejeezuz out of him as he explains the rules. It's a hilarious scene but also worth some thought because, as we all agree, I'm sure, there are NO rules in a knife fight. Or any other real fight, for that matter.

I remember back many moons ago when kicking to the groin was considered very “unfair” in a schoolyard fight; in fact, it was understood that kicks of any kind weren't kosher. It was considered unfair and something only a brute would do... and if one of the participants said that he'd had enough, the whole thing was over. Brandishing a weapon of any kind was considered cowardly. Alas, times have changed!

Over the years, (especially those spent as a state police officer) I learned more of the truth of it. The object isn't necessarily to “beat the other guy.” The object is to ensure that I get to go home afterwards. That meant ending the conflict as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Our martial arts ancestors understood this very well. It isn't a question of winning; there are no gloves or groin cups, no referees or judges, no roped-off ring, no points awarded, and no trophies or prize money. It's a question of survival, of not losing. Only one of the participants will be going home (maybe). There's no sporting aspect to it, no “playing fair.” Rules are a convention that works only if ALL participants adhere to them.

”Repetitio Est Mater Studiorum”

 

by Phillip Starr

 

It's an old Latin expression that says, “Repetition is the mother of all learning.” Truer words were never spoken. You all know that in order to truly learn any given technique or form, it must be practiced many, many times. It's often rather tedious, and is quite demanding, both physically and mentally...but such practice not only develops “muscle memory”, but a strong spirit as well.

Muscle memory is a form of procedural memory that involves consolidating a specific motor task into memory through repetition, which has been used simultaneously with motor learning. When a movement is repeated over time, a long-term muscle memory is created for that task, eventually allowing it to be performed without conscious effort. This process decreases the need for attention and creates maximum efficiency within the motor and memory systems. Examples of muscle memory are found in many everyday activities that become automatic and improve with practice, such as riding a bicycle, typing on a keyboard, tying your shoes, entering a PIN, playing a musical instrument, poker, martial arts, or even dancing.

Because it is tedious, some instructors are hesitant to make students undergo such training. What they fear is that students will become bored and discontinue training. I say that such instructors lack imagination! When I ran a full-time school, I used various ploys to get students to (unknowingly) practice a given technique(s) several hundred times in each class!

The neijia (internal martial arts of China – taijiquan, baguazhang, and xingyiquan) speak about “getting the taiji body” and so forth, and this is a very unique skill that can be acquired only through endless (correct) repetitions of the form. But it's equally true for any given style of karate or taekwondo; each is intended to develop its follower's bodies in a certain way and only constant repetition of the form(s) will foster it.

If you could watch senior practitioners of a given style of karate, kung-fu, or taekwondo perform a form using only the footwork and body movements (no hand techniques or kicks), you could still easily identify from what art they come. The body movement(s) of taekwondo are dramatically different from, say, Goju-ryu, baguazhang, or any other style. This holds true for all arts and styles...and it is developed only through thousands of repetitions of their form(s).

PRIORITIES

 by Phillip Starr

We all have a list of priorities in our lives, whether it's in writing or not. What's at the top of your list? Is it your family, your job...? That's fine. If you have a family, they should be in the #1 spot and your job, which enables you to provide for them, should be right up there, too. But where is your training, both in and out of class, placed?

Many will allege that's near the top...but that doesn't prove to be true, according to their actual attendance. The may WANT to think it's near the top of the list but the truth is far different. Coming to class twice a month, training outside of class once a month (maybe) indicates that training is actually pretty low on the list. And if one expects to develop any real skill, it's going to have to be moved up. Period.

Most martial art practitioners enjoy their training as little more than a hobby, rather like bowling on Thursdays, or playing golf on Saturdays. “Play” is the definitive word here. “Play” is done for enjoyment and as a distraction from the pressures of work and/or the humdrum of daily life. And there's nothing wrong with that. But just as a weekend golfer can never realistically hope to become a pro on the PGS Tour, so those whose “hobby” is a particular martial art should never aspire to achieve any real level of high skill.

Martial arts were never intended to be practiced as simple”hobbies”, or forms of “play.” They were intended to become lifestyles. So I think it's necessary to consider what you want out of martial arts. Is it just an interesting distraction or do you want more? The more you want, the higher you must place it on your list of priorities.

PASSION

 by Yang Shuangxing

Watch a classmate perform a given form...then watch the same thing when it's performed by your teacher or a tournament champion. There's a difference, but it goes beyond merely slogging through the movements (even if it's done with good speed and power). It's FEELING! In the former, there likely isn't any real passion whereas in the latter, you can almost see the performer's adversaries yourself!

Remember – when you perform your form, you're engaged in a life-and-death struggle. There's no second place winner. You must FEEL it!

Of course, you must first know the interpretations of the various movements. Once that is accomplished, you must infuse the form with spirit and give it life! Your techniques must be so much more than just flowery movements that might impress an audience; you're fighting for your life! One slip, one error in timing, a single technique that's weak and fails to down the enemy, and you're dead meat...just another statistic.

As you perform the set and go on with the battle, you take the lives of several assailants. There is no time for remorse; you must continue the fight until all of your opponents are down. The form is not simply a set of exercises that are performed in a certain sequence; it is a violent struggle! And it should LOOK and FEEL like it.

NO SECOND PLACE WINNER

 by Phillip Starr

A well known master of the handgun once said, “In a gunfight, there are no second place winners.” True! In fact, in any life-and-death struggle it's the same thing. And that's how we must train our bodies AND OUR MINDS. You don't get a trophy or a medal for taking second place...you just get dead and a shovelful of dirt in your face.

Real fighting and sparring are two completely different animals. In a real skirmish, there are no judges or referees, no gloves or other protective gear, no trophies and no rules. The fight doesn't stop if, for some reason, you end up on the ground, or if you're injured. Or score a “point.”

The fact that you spar fairly well may be of some help once the fight is underway, but the truth is that most fights don't get “underway”; they're over within two seconds or less. There's rarely any “squaring off.” No fighting stances, no signals to begin or stop. And you have to be able to deal with getting “scuffed up”, at the very least.

You must be aware that the bad guy may very well be joined by one or more of his friends, especially nowadays. And you can pretty much rest assured that your assailant and/or his friends are armed with something. You must be prepared for this.

Sparring is useful in developing a sense of distance, timing, and several other important factors. But it's a far cry from real fighting where the only award you get is that you get to go home.