A DICHOTOMY

    by Phillip Starr

     Here's something to consider.  Ask any practitioner of kung-fu, karate, jujutsu, or aikido why they practice their chosen martial art.  Although some will tell you that they do it to stay fit, the vast majority will say that they train for reasons of self-defense.  If you observe the classes in which they participate, you'll see that the training is largely focused on practical applications of the various techniques to self-defense situations.  Some training will feature very old and seemingly pointless practice such as forms...but the instructor can quickly demonstrate how the movements of the various forms can be easily applied on the street.

  Now, most of you know that aside from my daily practice of Yiliquan, I also try to get in some time to practice iaido.  And I can see the look of confusion on some faces out there...why would the old man practice stuff like that?

     Well, why would anybody?

     I will probably not get up tomorrow morning, throw on a hakama, slip my katana into my obi (belt; sash), and saunter down the road looking to right society's wrongs and being a champion of the downtrodden.  Nope.  I will likely never (again) get into a sword fight or have to draw my blade and cut down some nasty enemy who intends to do me harm.

     And it is for these very reasons that my practice of iaido is important to me!

     Okay.  Now I see even more confusion.  Why would I practice a highly ritualized, moderately-paced art which has no obvious "street application?"  The fact is that, because iaido has no modern self-defense applications, it provides an ideal environment in which to refine one's mind and spirit; to strengthen and discipline them.

     Well, isn't this also done in kung-fu training?  And karate, jujutsu, and aikido? 

     Although most martial arts that still retain practical self-defense applications are supposed to emphasize these qualities, the fact is that the majority of one's time is spent developing actual combative skills.  This is jutsu. 

     In the practice of something like iaido, there is no concern about developing practical combat skill...because it's never going to happen.  I'm never going to have to use my sword in battle.  I can't even practice with a partner because in iaido training, one uses a live blade.  And this is the art's greatest attribute!  ALL of my attention can be focused on refining my mind and spirit because I don't have to concern myself with the possibility that I'm ever going to have to use this art in combat.  That is do.

     Everything, from the standing position prior to bowing, to sitting (when my arthritis acts up, I practice standing), to inserting the sword into the belt to the draw and cut and blood cleaning and replacing the sword into the scabbard - everything must be done just so.  It took some time to just learn how to tie the sageo (cord attached to the scabbard) to my belt!

     I sit and relax and focus on correct breathing.  I keep One-Point.  I prepare to rise up and execute the draw...but, no.  Spirit isn't right.  Can't do it yet.  Focus!  Don't think about it.  In trying NOT to think about it, I'm thinking about it...so it's not right.  I can feel that it isn't right yet...

     Focus.  Relax.  One-Point.  Focus.  Focus.

     Zip!  And it happens.  The draw is complete.  Rats.  Cutting edge is off just a hair.  OK.  I still go through the formal, ritualized movements of completing the kata and replacing the sword in the scabbard...

     Now let's try this again.  Relax.  Focus...

     And so it goes, over and over.  I think I can do the first kata known as Mae (shohatto) fairly well now.  It's been a long time since I started working on it.  It looks like it consists of only a very few simple movements; come up to one knee and draw the blade out in a horizontal cut, then grasp it with both hands and advance one foot (still kneeling) and make an overhead cut.  Stand up partway and perform the chiburi (blood cleaning) to sling the funk off the blade, then do a "change back" step and re-sheathe the sword.  Keep zanshin and kneel back down.  Sounds simple enough.  And if you watch a master do it, it looks pretty basic.  But like everything else in martial arts, it isn't.  I practice the other kata but this first one has my full attention.  It's the most basic one and has to be mastered before the others can really be done properly.

     So I am a beginner again.  But I know where I'm going and how to get there.

     The refinement of mind and spirit gained from iaido practice is naturally carried over into my Yiliquan practice.  This would no doubt horrify most, if not all, of my kung-fu counterparts...a kung-fu teacher practicing a Japanese martial art (especially involving the sword) to refine his kung-fu?  Ridiculous!  And heretical, too.

     Yeah, well...I also practice a roundhouse kick (which is distinctly Japanese), eat sushi, and teach Japanese-style breakfalls.  I've also borrowed techniques from Muay Thai, learned from fine Okinawan karate masters (as well as Japanese), and use a number of two-man qigong training exercises found in aikido.

     So what?  It all works.  The object is to learn and develop skill. 

     There is a Japanese story that tells of two young samurai who were good friends.  They were about to embark on their musha shugyo; the travels through which many young warriors took to develop and refine their skills.  They agreed to meet on the bank of the river exactly twelve years later if they survived their quests.

     Sure enough, on that same day twelve years later, the two men approached each other.  However, they had approached the river on it's opposite side and it had flooded.  One man made a spectacular leap which far exceeded the skill of even today's Olympic hopefuls.  His great jump easily carried him over the swollen river.  The other samurai walked downstream a distance and paid a boatman to ferry him across the water.  What it took one man many years to develop was effectively accomplished by the other man for the price of five cents.

     Similarly, if one is interested only in being able to defend oneself, why not purchase a firearm and obtain a permit to carry it?  So you have to first ensure that your training goals are worthwhile.

     In the ancient art of iaijutsu, there is a saying that tells us, "Kachi wa saya no naka ni ari."  So there.

     For those whose Japanese is rusty, it means, "Victory comes while the sword is (still) in ths scabbard."  Physical skills alone, no matter how refined and strong, are simply not enough.  There is always someone who is stronger, someone who is faster, someone who has a better technique or dirty trick.

     Goliath had the advantage of strength but David had the advantage of spirit.  Goliath figured he had this little Jewish kid in the bag, but David was determined to win at all costs.

     The higher purpose of iaijutsu (and its grandchild, iaido), is to foster the development of the mind and spirit of a warrior; an attitude and strength of character that wins the battle before it even begins.  This is not easy to achieve and requires a great deal of training.  Attitudes of jealousy, greed, anger, selfishness, and hate must be eliminated because they are counter-productive and self-destructive; they inhibit the development of real skill.

     Another story relates how an iaijutsu teacher told his student to sit facing him.  The young man did so and the instructor told him that he was to draw his sword as quickly as possible and attack with all of his strength and speed.  The young man sat in front of the master and prepared to execute his fastest technique, but he could not.  Every time he prepared to move, something held him back.   He knew he would fail.  Finally, he told his teacher that he could not do it; he could find no opening into which he could move.  This is how one wins without emptying the scabbard.

     Now, I'm not necessarily advocating that you begin the regular practice of iaido.  But I hope you can glean something of value from this article and apply it to your training.

YOU AND YOUR BIG MOUTH!

 By Phillip Starr

It's been said that the voice is a second face and I believe this to be true. Think about it; people who tend to be withdrawn, shy, or fearful rarely speak with much feeling or volume. In fact, it's often rather difficult to hear their words at all! Their voices are, in my opinion, outward expressions of the condition(s) of their minds and spirits. If the spirit is weak and timid, if the mind is skittish and afraid, the (quality of the) voice reflects their condition.

You might wonder if increasing the volume and spirit of the voice can promote the development of a strong spirit and bolster one's courage. I believe that it can. However, it is necessary to maintain proper physical posture, ensuring that certain bodily structures are aligned. This fosters the free flow of vital force (qi) while it also brings the diaphragm into the position from which it can provide maximum assistance in speaking with greater volume and spirit. Thus, the physical posture and voice are interrelated. This is the main reason that I sometimes have students (including beginners) count cadence during certain routines that are practiced in class.

The posture and movements of people whose voices are weak and lack spirit usually reveal their timidity. Think about it. The mousy-voiced fellow who addresses you often looks at the floor or over your shoulder because he cannot work up the nerve to look you in the eye, as it were and the feeble-spirited lady may cower a bit, intertwining her fingers as she speaks to you. As inside, so outside. As I've said in earlier articles (see the article entitled, “Inseparable”), body and mind are inseparably united. The body is the visible, outward expression of the (condition of) the mind. Mind and body mirror each other perfectly.

Naturally, as a martial arts enthusiast, you'll wonder if practicing the kiai (shout) can help improve the quality and power of the voice. Yes, I believe it can. However, that same strong spirit must be carried over into the student's natural speaking voice. This usually requires some practice. By the way, this will also help those who are fearful of public speaking. Adjust the physical posture and focus on the spirit of the voice. Frankly, it's difficult to speak in a feeble, trembling voice when one's posture is correct; the two just don't go together very well at all. Correct posture (and consequently, correct movement) promotes self-confidence and that is readily evident in the voice.

In traditional martial arts, it is said that the voice is a very powerful weapon and this statement is truer than most people realize. But bear in mind that there is a right way and countless wrong ways to execute a strong kiai. I have discussed this in my book, “Martial Mechanics.”

Keep these ideas in mind today as you go out into your daily life and when you practice your chosen discipline. In a short time, you'll see how your voice can begin to change many aspects of your life...

WHAT'S IN A NAME?

 By Phillip Starr

I used to tell my students that to truly understand the nature of several forms and individual techniques, they needed to learn something about their names...in their native tongues. This involves more than simply learning to say the name of the technique or form in Japanese, Chinese, or Korean; it also includes learning how the name is written! Many, perhaps most, martial arts enthusiasts have never considered this, so let me give you an example.

You're probably familiar with the hand weapon/technique that's usually referred to as a “knife-hand”, right? Well, there's more to the name than is usually considered. For instance, the written form of “knife-hand” in Japanese and Chinese characters doesn't mean “knife” as we normally think of it. In English, a “knife” is a rather short bladed device that includes everything from kitchen knives to stilettos, Bowie knives, Arkansas toothpicks, and butter knives.

The name of the technique in Japanese is “shuto” and in Chinese it is “shou dao.” This name is comprised of two characters, the first of which is “shu” or “shou”, which means “hand.” But what most people miss is the second character, “do” or “dao”, which is written as 刀. It doesn't necessarily refer to a knife as we normally think of it. Rather, it refers to a single-edged, curved blade. Yes, some knives fall into this category. So do Japanese swords (often referred to as “do”) and Chinese broadswords (“dao”). Straight-bladed, double-edged blades go by another name.

So, a more correct term would be “sword hand” or “broadsword hand.” The character tells us that the cutting edge is curved rather than straight. Curved blades are made for slashing whereas straight blades work best for thrusting techniques. So, what difference does that make?”, you might ask. Well, sit back, relax, and listen up... A curved blade is stronger than a straight blade in so far as slashing/cutting techniques are concerned. The curved edge allows it to strike with greater power.

In my opinion, the correct form of the “sword hand” is as shown in the photo; the wrist is somewhat curved. In fact, the entire arm, from the shoulder to the end of the little finger, is slightly curved to resemble the cutting edge of a Japanese katana or a Chinese broadsword. The wrist and arm should NOT be held straight as shown in the other photo. This is a weak hand/arm form that results in a loss of power and possible injury to the hand, wrist, or elbow. However, if the bodily weapon is formed properly, there is a slight stretching sensation along the outer (little-finger) edge of the hand. This naturally firms up the striking surface without using excessive muscular tension in the hand (or forearm, which will slow down the strike because tensed muscles don't move very quickly...).

It is well to investigate the names of some of your traditional forms, too. Take the Okinawan kata, “Wansu”, for example. The Japanese renamed it “Empi.” “Wansu” is thought to be the name of a Chinese envoy who visited Okinawa and taught his form of kung-fu to the natives. This doesn't give us much of a clue as to the nature of the set and how it is to be performed...but the Japanese name does. “Empi” means roughly, “barn swallow.” It's a type of bird that feeds on insects as it defly swoops down to catch them and then gracefully climbs and/or maneuvers to bring it's next snack into its sights. A swallow is fast – very fast – and highly maneuverable. This would seem to indicate that the footwork and body shifting in the kata should be executed in a similar manner.

Now, I'm not saying that the various and sundry names of ALL forms can provide us with tidbits of valuable information, but some of them do and what you discover is certainly worth putting out a little extra effort and investigation. As the saying goes, “The teacher will show you one or two corners. Finding the others is up to you.”

TRAINING PROGRESSION

 by Phillip Starr

In an earlier article I spoke of being consistent in training. Consistency is essential to acquiring and maintaining skill in anything, especially a physical activity. However, the other half of the equation is training progressively. That is, learning step by step, taking your time and avoiding the temptation to hurry or move things out of sequence so that you (think) you'll learn and achieve skill faster.

A good instructor is careful that students learn everything progressively. There are reasons for this:

• Until a given movement (I'll call it “A”) is learned thoroughly, the student simply lacks the coordination and/or the proper strength/muscle tone to perform more complex movements. If the student attempts to do so, she may develop some really bad habits (which can be more than a little difficult to break) or even injure herself.

• The principle(s) learned in “movement A” are often essential for learning more complex movements. The basic principle(s) upon which “movement A” are based must be thoroughly learned and a certain level of skill in the application of that principle must be attained before going any further.

  

Of course, this necessarily means that students can't go whizzing through a list of techniques. They have to learn them progressively, step by step...and that means that there will be times that they will become rather bored with the tedious repetition of fundamental movements and techniques. There are ways around this, of course and that will be the subject of another article...but many instructors worry that students will drop out of training if they become bored. And that means loss of income. That has had a very negative impact on contemporary martial arts worldwide. It is my opinion that a good instructor, an instructor who is true to himself and his art, will train his students properly. Period.

Training progressively also applies to your own personal training outside of the training hall. If you stop practicing for an extended period and then start up again, you can’t simply start up where you left off. Your body is not longer accustomed to the movements and you may injure yourself. It’s like lifting weights. You move along progressively and if you stop lifting for a month or so, you mustn’t start up where you left off. An injury is pretty much guaranteed if you do!

Progressive training isn’t structured haphazardly. A good progressive training schedule is carefully developed over time by a teacher who understands not only the art and the various elements that comprise it, but human learning as well. Your personal training schedule should closely mirror the schedule used by your instructor. You can develop some slight variations by inserting various drills that make your daily practice more interesting and enjoyable but in the main, it should follow closely the schedule used by your teacher.

We learn faster and more thoroughly if we are relaxed and enjoying the process (as opposed to being fearful, tense, and/or bored half to death). Use your imagination to develop effective, challenging, and enjoyable training routines. Just because training must be progressive doesn’t necessarily infer that it has to be tedious!

THE SILENT TEACHER

 by Phillip Starr

It's your best friend but oftentimes, it seems as if it hates you and everyone else. It doesn't care what style you practice; it hates everybody equally. But it will teach you a great deal in a very short time. If there's a flaw in your technique, it'll point it out to you in a way that you won't quickly forget. Some years ago, I conducted a training session at my home and everyone was politely introduced to my personal striking post. One student even started off by giving it a kiss and a hug but it didn't matter. It still bit him...but through its vicious exterior, it taught him.

The striking post was once one of the most common pieces of equipment in most training halls and/or the homes of martial arts teachers. Whether they taught forms of bare-handed fighting or swordsmanship, there was almost always a striking post nearby and if you think hitting one with your fist is a pain, try it with a wooden sword!

An old friend of mine, Sherm Harrill (who trained under the founder of Isshin-ryu, Tatsuo Shimabuku), once said, "Any karate school that doesn't have a makiwara in it is just teaching dancing." It is my opinion that he pretty much hit the nail on the head. All hardcore, traditional karate dojos sport at least one makiwara and its pad is usually adorned with plenty of dried blood, which is a testament to the spirit of those who tempered their bodily weapons on it. Even in modern Okinawa and Japan, there is usually a makiwara in or near any karate dojo.

From "day one" in America, the striking post has been almost unknown. Americans didn't like to practice basics over and over; they wanted to learn how to fight. They didn't, and many still don't, get the connection. If your basics are weak or incorrect, you have almost no chance in a real fight.

Trust me, if you want to know if you can really knock an opponent down with your thrust or strike, try it out on a striking post. The odds are good that you'll find a flaw in there somewhere and that you're not really hitting as hard as you thought. When you start out, don't hit it full-power! If you do, you won't do it a second time. Start off gently with, say, 25 good punches and strikes. Gradually increase the power and number of blows as you're able. Take your time! When I train(ed) with my post, I perform(ed) 500 thrusts (with each hand) per day. I also practiced 50 to 100 of other type of strikes, which included the sword-hand and backfist. By the time you've worked up to 100 strong thrusts per day, your punch will be stronger than you might think. When you hit an opponent he'll stay hit, believe me.

I have often heard students and even instructors of various forms of karate and kung-fu declare that one of the primary reasons for makiwara training is to develop thick callouses on the striking surfaces of the hands and feet (and some traditionalists also practiced hitting it with various kicks and even elbow strikes). This is usually their excuse for not emphasizing the use of this simple device; it's not practical anymore because we don't need heavy callouses with which to punch through armor.

Foo.

Regular, correct use of a striking post will not build thick, heavy callouses. Rather, it will toughen the flesh on the striking surfaces of your bodily weapons, which reduces the risk of injuring yourself when you smack some scumbag. The fact is that most martial arts practitioners are afraid to hit something with full power because they fear injuring themselves and the resulting pain of delivering such a blow. Oftentimes, they’re not even consciously aware of this fear; it’s below the level of consciousness. Subconsciously, they know that if they ever hit anything with full power they’ll injure themselves. Because of this, the mind simply does not allow the body to strike full strength. It causes the practitioner to “hold back.” For obvious reasons, this can prove to be a real problem when the chips are down. However, a person who trains regularly on the striking post harbors no such fear and will happily strike his opponent with every ounce of power he can generate.

Some people fear that they will permanently damage their hands if they train with this piece of equipment. Stories abound about well-known martial arts teachers whose hands were supposedly rendered into little more than bludgeons on the ends of their wrists. The world-famous master, Masutatsu Oyama, is often cited as an example. But the truth is very different. Oyama maintained full dexterity in his hands right up until his dying day. Certainly, I have known people who injured their hands on the makiwara and it’s because they were training improperly! You can easily injure yourself lifting light weights, using a heavy bag, or even using a toilet the wrong way! If you’re going to use a piece of equipment, learn to do it right or leave it alone.

So, why use the striking post? Well, let's have a look…

• The main thing that the post teaches you is to strike directly through your target and to focus your power onto a single point. This sounds easy enough to do but I’ve watched numerous senior martial arts instructors strike the post and discover, albeit very painfully, that their technique was incorrect. Oftentimes, their fists slid across the pad (which is wrapped in a type of straw rope), leaving some flesh and blood behind. With practice, you will learn to strike directly into your target flawlessly.

• The striking post lets you know - usually in not-so-gentle ways - if you have glitches in your technique. Hit her solid with a bad technique and she'll immediately let you know that you have erred. For instance, you may be striking with the wrong part of your hand. If this is the case, you’ll find out about it in a hurry. If your shoulder, elbow, or wrist is out of line, she’ll let you know. It's a painful, traumatic way of correcting your errors but it works! And many's the time that I didn't even know that I had a bug in my technique...until I hit the post. She didn't whisper it in my ear, either. She glared at me. Errors in your technique which are so slight that your instructor may not even notice are made glaringly obvious on the post.

• Third, the post teaches you to strike with the force of your whole body rather than just your arm. You should feel the recoil clear down to the soles of your feet. If your stance is unstable she'll let you know about it.

• And the constant repetition of striking the padded post gradually causes the bones of the striking surface to become denser and denser...until they're like iron. This is especially true of the old Okinawan/Japanese makiwara, which is tapered at one end so that it flexes back when it's struck. The vibrations from the flexible post travel up through the bones of the hand, through the wrist, arm, and to the shoulder, causing them to eventually become very, very dense. Think about this. A person whose weapons have been tempered on the striking post possesses very formidable weapons, indeed. His knuckles are as hard as ballpeen hammers (but they need not be calloused) and his other weapons - the sword-hand, pheonix-eye (second knuckle of the forefinger), and other weapons are similarly tempered. If you get hit with one of these weapons, you'll stay hit.

There are lots of different flavors of striking posts. For instance, the well-known “wing chun dummy” is a rather extravagant type of striking post. At the opposite end of the spectrum are various forms of kung-fu that simply use a bare post. And while many contemporary practitioners of the traditional neijia (internal martial arts of China; taijiquan, xingyiquan, and baguazhang) insist that using this device is detrimental to developing internal power and can be injurious to one's health, the fact is that their martial arts forefathers used various types of striking posts on a daily basis. If you dig deep enough into the history of these arts and the men whose skill in them became legendary, you can find numerous references to their use of the striking post. The Okinawan karate masters of times long past emphasized that training consisted of four parts (although most contemporary practitioners emphasize only the first three). These include kihon (basic techniques), kata (forms), kumite (practice with a partner), and makiwara.

The truth of the matter is that most people simply don't want to have to endure the initial pain (and scraped knuckles) of this kind of training. And too many internal stylists would rather intellectualize about striking with power - yada, yada, yada - than actually get off their duffs and put in the required pain and sweat. Actually, the pain eventually goes away as your weapons become better tempered but the sweat will always be with you.

I recall a story told to me by my friend, Chris Smaby, who trained under the reknowned karate master, Hidetaka Nishiyama. Back in the 1970's, Nishiyama and a handful of senior Japanese karate teachers were visiting various Shotokan schools around the U.S. At one such school the owner proudly displayed his five new makiwaras, which he had mounted inside his dojo. One of Nishiyama's classmates walked up to one of them and shot out a reverse punch...and the end of the post snapped off! He went down the line, hitting each one and breaking the ends off until he came to the last one.

"Please, sensei," the school owner pleaded, "Don't break this last one!" The senior karateka nodded in agreement. After the owner had thanked him and had run off to rejoin the rest of the group, the senior instructor saw that he was alone with the last makiwara. He fired out one last punch...and broke the end off the post! He looked around and quietly set it back up on the post, hoping that no one would notice right away. Then he skipped off to join his friends.

In Japan, a young man practiced diligently on a makiwara, which was mounted just outside of the karate dojo. He noticed an older man sitting on a nearby bench. The fellow was reading a newspaper but every now and then he'd glance over at the youngster. This made the karate student punch even harder. He'd show this oldster some real karate technique!

Finally, the old man walked over and informed the young man that his punch wasn't quite right. Exasperated, the karateka asked the old man what he meant. The gray-haired senior fired out a quick thrust and snapped off the top twelve inches of the post. "Do it like that," the old man said. And he walked off to get on his bus. The young karate student was so astonished that he didn't even get the old man's name.

There's a story about a famous xingyiquan master who, when he was yet a student, practiced hitting a post until he could break a tombstone with his piquan (literally, "splitting hand", which strikes with the little-finger edge of the palm). Mind you, this is a Chinese tombstone we're talking about and they're considerably smaller than the huge, heavy Western tombstones but still, it was no mean feat. His teachers wouldn't teach him another technique until he could successfully perform this feat. Talk about being picky!

So if you can, set up a striking post but be sure to build it correctly. You must never, ever practice hitting something that doesn't "give." Your force will simply be returned to you and you can injure not only your hands but your internal environment as well. So don't go out and start whacking the nearest tree. Don't be a lazy cheapskate. Build one and do it right.

I’ve seen world-famous karate masters demonstrating how they beat their hands on huge stones, trees, and similar immovable objects. There is a technical term used in physics that describes such practice. It is foolhardy! I don’t care who it is that does this kind of thing, who he is, how famous he is, what rank he holds, or anything else. It is a reckless, harmful way to practice! Do it right and do it regularly. You'll discover that the striking post is a wonderful, albeit a sometimes harsh, teacher.

POSITIVE AND NEGATIVE

 by Phillip Starr

Because we are emotional creatures, we experience many different emotions on a daily basis. However, some of these feelings can be harmful and may weaken your ability to apply the Four Principles of Qigong to your life. Negative emotions such as anger, hate, greed, lust, and jealousy actually affect the life-force (qi) and your ability to control it.

We’ve all met at least one person who seems to be negative most of the time. If you sit and visit with this person for more than about five or ten minutes, you'll feel absolutely drained when you part company. Such a person is seldom happy and you don’t dare ask, “How are you?” If you do, you’ll listen to her expound on her many health problems for the next thirty minutes! Whenever a particular virus is known to be roaming through the area, she’ll be one of the first to get sick. In fact, she’s rarely, if ever, healthy. She has few, if any, real friends. She usually likes to gossip in an effort to feel better about herself. Her life is full of drama and negativity.

Such people draw energy into themselves because their systems are starved for it! Fear, hate, bitterness, jealousy, anger, and greed draw qi inward, preventing them from extending it.  Qi is only useful if it can be extended.  If it is withdrawn it cannot be used at all and this can result in blockage of qi in the body, which often results in pain and illness. Bitterness and anger scatter qi so that it cannot be focused and used.

At the other end of the spectrum is the individual who always seems happy and smiling. If you sit and visit with him for a short time you actually feel energized! He can walk into a room of ten strangers and leave with ten new friends. His health is usually very good. This isn’t to say that he never gets sick but if he does, he tends to get over it quickly. His life is one of happiness, contentment, and joy. We would say that this person has a very positive spirit. He naturally extends energy.

I often remind my students of this important universal law:

“Like attracts like.”

The more positive you are, the easier it is to stay positive and become even more positive. Your positive spirit tends to draw positive things to you. If something negative should occur it is handled quickly and effectively.

On the other hand, the more negative you are, the more negative you tend to become. You sink slowly into an ever-deepening quagmire of negativity. We’ve all had days like this; you get out of bed and the first thing you do is stub your toe on the bed frame! You might shout out a couple of very colorful adjectives or verbs as you hobble into the bathroom. But more disasters seem to be awaiting you. You flush the toilet and it overflows, you put on your shirt only to find that one button is missing, you burn your toast…and this is just the beginning of the day! As the hours wear on, it’s as if a dark cloud hovers above your head. You wonder if some sort of evil spirit is wreaking havoc with your life. Everything you do is wrong. Instead of turning to gold, everything you touch seems to turn to coal!

It's interesting to note that people who are in a negative state of mind; people who are depressed, angry, or bitter usually cannot perform the the basic qigong exercise known as the Unbendable Arm! This holds true for everyone, including those of us who can do it under normal conditions. It's because a negative mind “pulls” energy; that is, it draws energy inwards rather than extending energy outwards. And if you cannot extend energy adequately, you cannot perform the Unbendable Arm.

This started me thinking, “If someone feels that they are beginning to become angry or depressed, could they prevent that state of mind from manifesting if they quickly practice the Unbendarm Arm exercise?” I tried this with a number of students and they all found that they were indeed able to prevent themselves from falling into a negative state of mind by performing this basic exercise as soon as they felt the negativity filtering into their minds.

So, back to our story about your sore toe. If you stop and think about it you’ll realize that it all started when you stubbed your toe. You allowed yourself to become negative. You forgot that negative draws negative and your day became progressively worse. So, what should you have done? You should have taken a few seconds to stand straight, focus on your dantien (“tanden” in Japanese), and extend qi through an Unbendable Arm. Imagine qi radiating around your body. This keeps your energy extended, which helps to prevent negative emotions from gaining a strong foothold. Remember, “Like Attracts Like.”