THE FIST AND THE SWORD

 by Phillip Starr

Students are sometimes confused when I tell them that if they really want to improve their bare-handed skills they must learn traditional weaponry. I tell them that empty-handed training will get them to a certain level but they cannot pass beyond that level unless they learn to use these outdated weapons of yesteryear. In fact, they must not only learn to use them; they must train assiduously with them and acquire a high level of skill!

To use a weapon skillfully isn't nearly as easy as it sounds or looks. Watch an iaido demonstration and you'll understand what I mean. For those of you who are unfamiliar with iaido, it's the art of drawing and cutting with the Japanese sword. If you are not intimately acquainted with this venerable art, you'll miss all of the subtleties that make it what it is. It would seem that the swordsman, who usually begins in the position of seiza (sitting on the knees with the feet tucked under the buttocks), simply rises up to one knee, draws his sword, and makes a powerful cut. But there are many other small, obscure movements that are crucial to the correct execution of the technique and these delicate, sophisticated actions must be performed very precisely. Breath, mind, spirit, and physical movement must be in perfect synch. And for some reason, this seems to be more readily seen and felt when one is using a weapon than when one practices only with the bare hands.

Once a student has learned the fundamental techniques and form of a particular weapon, I tell him to perform the form without the weapon! The movements must be as smooth and precise as if they were wielding the weapon. This helps him grasp the relationship between weaponry and bare-handed fighting. After practicing in this way for a time, I tell him to change the “weapon technique” into a valid “empty-hand technique.” This often opens his eyes in more ways than one. He can clearly see the relationship between distance and timing, he can better understand rhythm, and he can see the many ways in which the striking and grappling techniques may be applied.

I once told my most senior student that if he really wanted to learn the essence of timing; if he really and truly wanted to understand it, he should take up kendo. Of course, the same thing holds true for other weapons with which martial arts enthusiasts practice but for reasons of safety, only a select few are suitable for “sparring”, per se. Kendo is the Japanese sport of fencing. But instead of using steel blades, they employ swords made of strong strips of bamboo. Even so, armor must be worn to protect the head, face, shoulders, torso, wrists, and hands from the powerful blows delivered with these bamboo “swords.”

In a kendo match, contestants must keep themselves “centered” as they try to connect to the opponent and feel his spirit and intention. If the opponent's mind or spirit flags for a moment or if he can be caught just as he begins an attack, one must commit oneself fully and strike!

The development of a strong but calm spirit, the real meaning of fully extending your yi (intention, mind) without the slightest concern for your own survival, the meaning of committing yourself fully, understanding the real meaning of distance, rhythm, and timing...these are crucial to the development of real skill but most practitioners of the bare-handed arts find them more than a little difficult to grasp and apply. It is my opinion that these concepts are more easily realized through the practice of weaponry. I don't know why this is true, but it is. And once they are realized through training with weapons they can easily be transferred to empty-hand technique.

EXTRA BAGGAGE

 by Phillip Starr

When I ran my full-time martial arts school many years ago, I debated about hanging a sign outside the entrance to the training hall; “Leave Excess Baggage Here.” I frequently had prospective students come in to inquire about classes and I was surprised that they were even able to walk under the weight of the extra baggage they carried...

The nature of the baggage varied but I think I can safely place them into two broad categories; physical and mental/emotional. Under the category of physical limitations you'll find an enormous number of alleged ailments, from trick knees to bad backs. I often found it surprising that these people knew their ailment(s) and the various techniques of my art so well; they'd tell me what they could and couldn't do. For them, enrolling in the school was akin to ordering a hamburger. Some professed to having physical limitations that were so severe that I told them that they really couldn't practice a martial art or that their limitation would prevent them from participating in group classes; I'd have to teach them privately and that would be very expensive. Surprisingly, some of them apparently recovered enough from their ailment on the spot that they suddenly COULD participate in class!

Some had what seemed to be very severe limitations. I recall one young lady who had lost an arm and a young man who has lost a leg (below the knee) in Vietnam. Their spirits were strong and they regularly trained in group classes! They refused to limit themselves. They weren't really handicapped at all! I am still very proud of them...

Many of the physical limitations that they carried were the result of the applicant's imagination, desire for attention, or disinclination to participate in some training activities (usually those that worked up a good sweat).

Mental baggage varied quite a bit. There were those who considered themselves to be knowledgeable enough to know what kinds of techniques wouldn't work for them (“I'm too short”, “I'm a woman, so that won't work for me”, and so on). For some, it was a question of their particular religious faith...“I can't bow to a shrine or a person...”. I suggested that they seek instruction elsewhere. I explained that the bowing and so forth has nothing to do with religion, but many would not be dissuaded. I hope they found whatever it was that they thought they were looking for.

Then of course, there were those who would tell me, “I don't want to learn those fancy dances (forms) and junk like that. I just want to learn what really works on the street” or “I just can't do anything violent like sparring.” I told then that they weren't allowed to pick and choose what they would or wouldn't learn. Most of them decided to move on to the next school. Wise choice.

Those who asked how long it would take to get a black belt. I'd tell them that it takes about a week and $6.95. However, to acquire the skill takes a bit longer...

CULTURE OR COMBAT?

 By Phillip Starr

I believe that in order to truly understand a given martial discipline and perform it correctly, one must have a firm grasp of the culture that gave it birth. This will necessarily involve some substantial study as well as introspection, which is something that many (perhaps most) martial arts devotees loathe. But just as the various punches, kicks, and/or throws belong to a given martial form, so the does culture from which it comes. And to truly understand the essence and spirit of that martial art, you must likewise understand its mother culture.

There are those who argue that understanding the culture isn't at all necessary, or even important. Most of them will assert that the purpose of the art is self-defense; it was/is intended for combat. Period. It's a rather shallow approach to such a deep subject (as martial arts) but nonetheless, it's the position taken by many practitioners (consciously or unconsciously). Such people can never truly understand the spirit of their chosen art and may very well be doing it incorrectly as a result.

I'm not necessarily inferring that you need to spend time living in the country/culture from which you art came, but you need to study and absorb the culture as best you can. This is something I realized when I lived in China for 3 years. I had spent more than 50 years training in Chinese martial arts and I figured I had it all sorted out. Not so. There was a lot more to Chinese culture than I had ever imagined and my exposure to it changed the way I practice my kung-fu.

As Westerners, we tend to “Americanize” (or “British-ize”, or whatever else) the manner in which we see, understand, and consequently practice, the martial disciplines of the East. It's only natural for us to do so and it's also true of Eastern folks who take up Western activities, whether it's baseball or anything else. And it actually changes the way in which we (and they) practice said activities.

Learning to speak some of the language of the culture in question is very helpful. You don't need to become fluent, but being able to converse on a very basic level with people who are native to that culture is very useful and conducive to really understanding the culture. Samuel Ichiye Hayakawa, a Canadian-born Japanese gentleman who served as president of San Francisco State University and later became a U.S. senator, was a linguist who made a statement that has stuck in my mind ever since I read it in his book,, “Language in Action.” He said that we cannot conceive of things for which our particular language does not have a word(s); we are, essentially, hindered in our mode of thinking by the language we speak! I have found this to be true. So, by learning other languages we not only enable ourselves to speak to foreigners; we expand our minds!

To really understand the culture of a country and why they do what they do, I think it's necessary to learn something of the language because then you'll learn how they think! And that will impact how you see and practice your chosen martial art.

BEING COMMITTED

 by Phillip Starr

Most of you are very much aware that the vast majority of martial arts practitioners give up and quit training for a variety of reasons, and most of them do so long before they reach the stage of black belt. One of my students once decried this phenomenon. I told him that this has always been the case; it's simply the nature of the beast. Only a very few will truly commit themselves to the study and practice of martial arts.

But what does it mean? The dictionary defines “committing oneself” as, “to pledge oneself, to bind oneself to something.” Quitting (for any reason) is not an option. And such is the requirement for developing a high level of skill in any martial discipline (or anything else, for that matter); if you want to develop a high level of skill you must totally commit yourself to your training. It is arduous, oftentimes confusing, sometimes disappointing, frustrating, or discouraging, and both mentally and physically painful, but every discomfort must be overcome by continually forging and tempering yourself...not just your body – but your mind and spirit as well. This is what “being fully committed” means.

Not surprisingly, many of those who claim to aspire to achieving high levels of skill often come up with some pretty creative excuses for their inability to train as much as they need to. I'm reminded of a former student of mine who was a professor of accounting (and a CPA) at a local college. At the end of each semester, he handed out a small trophy to the student who had the most creative excuse for failing the final exam!

To be truly committed means that at different times along the path, you're going to have to make some sacrifices. The big question is whether or not you're willing to do it. It means making adjustments to your lifestyle; adjustments to your daily/weekly schedule. This isn't necessarily an easy thing to do. In fact, it's oftentimes quite uncomfortable. But it has to be done.

And how long does this kind of thing last? Forever. Commitment isn't a temporary thing. You will never reach a stage where you no longer need to practice and sweat. Certainly, some things become easier (because you've improved) over time but there will always be new horizons, new mountains to climb and even better, more exciting, discoveries! It never ends.

THE ART OF QUIN-NA

 by Phillip Starr

Quin-Na ( 擒拿) is a Chinese term that means, “seize and hold/control”, and refers to a wide range of joint locking/twisting, seizing, and holding techniques. All gong-fu styles include a number of such techniques and shuai-jiao (Chinese grappling) involves a wide array of these techniques.

Joint “locking” techniques can really be applied only against joints that are intended primarily to move in only two directions (such as the elbow), while “twisting” techniques are applicable to any joint. These techniques can be extremely painful and, if carried to an extreme, disabling. Seizing techniques are usually applied against certain muscles and/or tendons, in an effort to tear them.

I once asked my teacher, Master W. C. Chen, about why such techniques would be useful additions to one's martial arts arsenal. He explained that many of them are useful against an opponent who you do not wish to injure with a strong blow and they cause more than enough pain to dissuade most aggressors from pressing on with their assault.

Moreover, they allow you to place your enemy in an untenable position (that's “indefensible” for you rednecks out there) so that you can easily strike him and end the scuffle.

However, he cautioned me and explained that in order to successfully apply a quin-na technique requires that one's skill must be at least three times greater than that of the opponent.

I know of some martial arts schools that place their primary emphasis on the application of qin-na techniques and I would admonish them to carefully heed Sifu Chen's words of prudence. Such schools generally exhort students to “cooperate” with each other, claiming that doing otherwise increases the likelihood of injury. I can understand that. But having said that, a real self-defense situation doesn't normally involve a cooperative opponent.

When initially learning such a technique, I think a good measure of cooperation is very necessary. Once the technique has been well-learned, one's practice partner should attack with a real attack and not necessarily be cooperative to the application of the qin-na technique. This will help the student learn to apply it very quickly and correctly.

I believe that quin-na is a valuable asset to one's martial arts arsenal but to rely solely upon such techniques for self-defense is very risky.

THE ANALOGY OF THE CHAIN

 by Phillip Starr

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To strike with real destructive force doesn't require great strength. It requires correctness. There's a difference. All of this is found in the book, “MARTIAL STRUCTURE.”

AN OLD SECRET TO LEARNING

 by Phillip Starr

Have you ever learned a new form (or part of a form) only to find that with the coming of the sunrise, you've forgotten a big chunk of it? Or perhaps you tend to forget a particular movement (or even a series of movements) in a given form every time you perform it? I know I've done these things countless times but I discovered ways to cement them into my memory and I'll happily pass them on to you...

There's an old Latin proverb that says, “repetitio est mater studiorum.” It translates as, “Repetition is the mother of studies (learning).” Truer words were never spoken. And you can learn to use this idea to smooth out the wrinkles in your form. If you're having problems forgetting a certain movement(s) in a form, try this... Do the form. If you forget the movement(s) in question, stop immediately and start all over again from the beginning. Sure, maybe you'll forget it again. But trust me, after you've re-started the form several times, you'll bloody well remember the movement(s) in question. For one thing, you'll soon get sick and tired of having to start over repeatedly. Moreover, every time you forget the movements and have to begin again, you're REMEMBERING what you should have done! Before long, the movement(s) in question will be cemented into your memory.

But the best method of learning and remembering something, whether it be a martial arts form or anything else, is this... remember that once class is finished, you have 60 minutes in which to review the (new) material. Sixty. Minutes. As soon as you get home (or someplace where you can run through the movements or otherwise review what you've just learned), toss your coat aside and do it. Just two or three times is all it takes (although more is better in this case – but anything'll help). The next day, you'll remember about 90% or more of what you learned.

However, once the 60 minute time frame has elapsed, your brain begins to forget what it's just learned. Actually, it doesn't forget at all but the material is removed from your readily accessible conscious files. Within a few hours, you'll forget more and more of the new material. Within 24 hours, you'll forget up to 80% or more of what you learned... So, don't wait until the next class to review the new movements. Take ten minutes and run through them at home a few times. You'll be surprised at how much you remember the next day!