THE FIRST STEP

 by Phillip Starr

So you've received your first-grade black belt. You're thrilled and proud as well you should be. After all, you made it! But...is this the end of it? Are you an “expert” now?

Some time ago, I lost count of all the first-grade black belts I've known who, after having strapped that coveted piece of black cloth around their waists, closed the book on traveling the martial path. Such a pity!

In the West we tend to place great emphasis and meaning upon the acquisition of the black belt but in the East, it's not regarded as such a big deal. There are, after all, 10 “dan” grades, with 10^th being held as that of perfection (or as perfect as is humanly possible to achieve). So as my iaido teacher is fond of saying, “A shodan (first grade black belt) is only 10% of perfect, a nidan (second grade) is just 20% of perfect...” And he's right.

I've always regarded a shodan as an advanced beginner; a student who, in preparation for a long trip, has just finished packing his/her bags. The adventure is about to begin! Why would anyone spend so much time meticulously packing their bags only to forget about the trip and crawl into bed to take a nap? And yet, this is exactly what the vast majority of those who receive their shodans do!

They miss the point of all their previous training, which was intended to prepare them physically, mentally, and spiritually for learning the TRUE art.

THE DARK SIDE

 by Phillip Starr

     For many martial arts enthusiasts the main goal of training is to become stronger and faster, and to master fighting techniques and tactics so as to defeat any aggressor who dares assault them.  Basic techniques are drilled over and over while muscles scream and the breath comes in gasps.  Forms are practiced over and over and then studied and analyzed in minute detail until their true meaning is understood.  Students leave their blood on the striking post and their sweat on the training floor.  But underneath it all is something more, something personal, insidious, and dark.

     We've all faced times of hardship and times of "testing" as we've traveled the martial path.  These difficulties come in all manner of shapes and sizes, from minor to major injuries, illnesses, delays, loss of interest, problems with relationships...and there is simply no way to intellectualize or buy your way out of them.  Oftentimes, you must work or even fight your way through them and at other times you must simply grit your teeth and wait them out.  Sometimes simply staying on the path is all you can do. The legendary founder of aikido, Morihei Uyeshiba, put it succinctly:

"In extreme situations it seems as if the entire universe has become our foe.

At such critical times unity of body and mind is essential.

Do not let your heart waver.

Bravely face whatever God offers.

One should be prepared to receive 99% of the enemy's attack and stare death right in the face in order to illuminate the path.

Transcend the realm of life and death and you will be able to make your way calmly and safely through any crisis that confronts you."

     In the practice of martial arts we must eventually confront our own "shadow side.” All of us have fears - from a simple fear of the dark to fears of pain, financial ruin, loneliness, and disease. And although these fears seem to come from outside of us, I think they are often the result of an internal process. This is a process of which we may not be consciously aware, a process that lies below our surface personality.

     In training we strive to perform correctly, even under pressure.  It usually doesn't take long for inhibiting problems to begin to surface; poor attitudes, envy, self-pity, criticism (of self or others), insecurities, anger bubble to the surface to be seen by everyone. You can't hide them although you may try and then it becomes obvious that you're trying to conceal them! 

     The fact is that we've lived with these "shadows" for so long that we've developed our own personal ways of handling them.  They've become a part of us - habits, if you will - and we've become so accustomed to carrying them around that we don't even notice them until we get involved in martial arts training, which is really very different from most other physical activities because we're dealing with the basest form of human relationships...a punch in the mouth.  We have to learn to respond appropriately to physical attack while we must simultaneously "be with ourselves" under gradually increasing levels of physical and emotional pressure.

     Before long we must face the ways in which we typically handle this and other forms of stress; how we armor ourselves against them, how we withdraw (into ourselves) or attack aggressively and what we see may not be pleasant.  We're exposed not only to ourselves but to all of our classmates as well.  The way we defend ourselves under great pressure (as when a partner tries to punch us in the face) shows us how we work to survive in daily life.

     As Wilhelm Reich said, your body acts as a "prison" that holds "you" (or what you perceive as "you") in place.  Although you can see an open door before you, you are held back in your "prison" by your limiting beliefs, attitudes, and so forth.

     A skilled and caring instructor will see immediately what you see but he cannot present you with an instant "cure."  All he can do is encourage and guide you and you must listen. He's been where you are.  Your chosen martial art can be used as a vehicle to explore those things that you find undesirable in yourself - your fears, what threatens you, feelings of inadequacy and inferiority, and so on.  It is at this time, when we recognize various aspects of our "dark side" that we must take master Uyeshiba's advice to heart.

     You face your opponent (your training partner) and he becomes you.  You project your fears, your weaknesses, and even your strengths onto him and confront them as you practice fighting.  And as you strive to "not lose", it isn't really your opponent who you are trying to defeat.  It's your "shadow side."  This is why practice fighting is so very important because in actual combat it's the same thing.  Your opponent, whether he's just a training partner or a real assailant, is a mirror.

     I believe that the willingness to face our "dark side" and striving to understand and eventually overcome our weaknesses, fears, and the many things about ourselves that we would rather keep stashed away is what makes a true warrior.  You must begin by being bold enough to admit the truth of what you see about yourself.  Then you must be strong enough to resolve those aspects of yourself that you find undesirable.  This can be accomplished through correct martial arts training but it isn't easy and many students will quit training in order to avoid having to face themselves although many of them, perhaps even the majority of them, are unaware that this is the reason they're quitting.

     Remember the word of master Uyeshiba above:

“In extreme situations it seems as if the entire universe has become our foe.”

(Ever felt like the whole world - maybe even the whole universe - was against you?)

“At such critical times unity of body and mind is essential.”

(First, recognize the situation and the feelings it evokes.  Then "Get One-Point" and exercise reverse breathing.  Unify your body and mind!)

“Do not let your heart waver.”

(Don't get cold feet.  Don't even think about the possibility of giving up or failing. Ever. Those are not options.)

“Bravely face whatever God offers.”

(Face the problems directly and remember that every problem you face has a hidden gift to give you.)

“One should be prepared to receive 99% of the enemy's attack and stare death right in the face in order to illuminate the path.”

(Like the old Japanese saying; "You only live twice.  Once when you are born, and once when you look death in the face." )

“Transcend the realm of life and death and you will be able to make your way calmly and safely through any crisis that confronts you."

(When you have overcome your fear of death, you can make your way calmly through any crisis.)

THE BOW

 by Phillip Starr

*Partially excerpted from “The Making of a Butterfly” by the author

Contrary to what many people believe, China is not “the land of bowing.” That title is reserved primarily for Japan. This is not to say that the Chinese don't bow; they do, when they intend to show deep respect or thanks. It is a beautiful convention that has, unfortunately, been forgotten in the Occident where it was once fairly common.

In Japanese, Okinawan, and Korean martial arts schools it is customary to bow when walking onto or leaving the training floor, when addressing a teacher, and many schools do it when the instructor enters or leaves the training area.

I remember a day many moons ago when I learned the real significance of the bow. My classmates and I trained in the basement and backyard of our teacher's home and although Chinese martial arts schools generally don't require students to bow to the training area, I did (mostly because I also trained in Kyokushin and Shito-ryu karate and I was accustomed to doing it). It had become an unconscious habit that my teacher, W.C. Chen, eventually came to appreciate.

As I stepped from the basement stairs onto the floor, I quickly bowed and walked in. Being in a bit of a hurry to start warming up, I actually just nodded my head. Before I'd made it ten feet, my sifu motioned for me to approach him. As I did so, he said, “You did not bow when you entered the room.”

I thought that maybe he'd missed it because it was quite slight. “Yes I did, sifu.”

He became stern and replied, “That was not a bow. Try again.” He waved me back to the stairway. I bowed more deeply this time but it didn't satisfy him. “That's not a bow”, he said.

Okay. I was a bit confused. WHY wasn't the deeper bow correct?

He motioned for me to approach him again and then swept his arm across the room. “When you bow, you are honoring those who have gone before you and who have given us this art. This is where you will develop yourself and grow (up).”

Turning to face me, he continued, “You must be reverent because this is where you will learn to save your life! You must always train seriously, as if your life depends on it...because it does! So, you must always be serious when you bow.” I was taken aback a bit. I'd never looked at it that way.

Addressing the other students who were eavesdropping, he said, “And all of you must humble yourselves here. You are here to learn and if you cannot be humble, you cannot learn. If you have a big (swelled) head, then you have an empty head and an empty heart. So be serious; be humble.”

He turned back to me and continued, “You will teach this art someday and you must be even more serious than your students. You must be more humble, too. A real teacher is this way because he knows the why and not just the how.”

TCM and TCMA

 by Phillip Starr

*Partially excerpted from “The Making of a Butterfly” by the author

There was a time in the not-too-distant past when traditional Chinese medicine and traditional Chinese martial arts went hand in hand and traditional medical therapy was part and parcel of one's martial arts regimen. One of the first Americans to travel to China (in the late 1970's) and practice kung-fu, Mr. Mark Salzman (author of “Iron and Silk”) discovered this when he went to practice at a park in China one day. Several people who had been watching him approached him and asked if he could help them with various ailments. They associated a martial artist with one who was also skilled in traditional medical therapies. Unfortunately, Mr. Salzman hadn't learned any of this part of kung-fu and had some difficulty communicating this to the local inhabitants.

My teacher, a highly skilled acupuncturist and tui-na (Chinese chiropractic and massage) practitioner, carried on this tradition. “This was very common in the country (rural) areas where towns were small and there were many villages. The village kung-fu teacher often was also the village doctor,” he told me.

My teacher, W.C. Chen, once told me that healing and hurting are two sides of the same coin. “If you know only one and not other (in so far as martial arts are concerned), you have only half an art.” And his lovely wife, Mei, added, “People appreciate healing more than hurting. In your life you will have more opportunities to to help heal people than hurt them.” My teacher taught me acupuncture, tui-na, rudimentary (Chinese) herbology, and qigong for health. “Teach your students the same way,” he admonished me. “This way the art will remain whole...and the world will be a better place. This is your mission.” And that's exactly what I did, requiring senior students to acquire as much skill as possible in the healing arts as a part of their upper-level examinations.

For many years I kept a small clinic in the back of kung-fu school. Various chiropractors and even physicians would frequently refer patients to me. I always enjoyed being able to help people regain their health. Mei was right; I certainly had many more opportunities to help heal people than hurt them!

SWIMMING ROUND THE STONE; MY TWIST ON IT

 by Phillip Starr

In Japanese (and Chinese) culture, the carp has a long history of respect because many of its attributes are considered worthy of emulation. For instance, it is a paragon of bravery. If you have ever caught one on a fishing line, you know that it will fight furiously to try to free itself. But when the battle is lost and the fish has been brought out of the water, it lies still and accepts its fate calmly and stoically...in a spirit similar to that of the samurai when they faced death.

The Chinese are responsible for teaching the Japanese how to selectively breed this fish and they imparted many of their secrets several centuries ago. Today, the raising of koi (carp) is a multi-million yen business.

Mr. Dave Lowry (author of several best-selling martial arts books) wrote an article on this subject and I will put my own spin on it, for what it's worth...

One technique for raising healthy fish was the placing of a stone in the pond where the fish lived. If koi are placed in a pond with nothing but water in it, they become lazy, listless, and subject to disease. The Chinese found that placing a stone in the pond give the fish something to swim around and they grow energetic and strong. It's a kind of anchor for them and they can clearly see it and use it.

Mr. Lowry goes on to say that he often regards the budo (wudao or martial ways) like that stone. They form a stone of sorts,.. for those who have made the martial ways a part of their lives. He then goes on to discuss how the budo kept him anchored during the turbulent 60's (which is when he trained with his sensei in iaido and also trained judo). The budo provided him with family; consistency in a world where values had been turned upside down and inside out (I too, remember those days). The training hall provided a sort of granite boulder around which he and his classmates (who trained regularly) swam.

The traditions, the training methods, the challenges...were all the same as they had been for his martial arts ancestors. Outside the walls of the training hall the storms of social change raged, but within the training hall was the calm of a temple. He always knew that the stone was there and he could depend on it. The budo provided him and his classmates a core upon which they could center their lives.

Mr. Lowry's essay on the subject is really very delightful and it made me think....that within a given martial art style or system, there must also be a stone. I think this stone is formed out of the traditions, the training methods, the forms...of a given style or art. Without them; without the stone, the style or system flounders and becomes confused, weak, and sick. This is, I think, what has happened to many “modern” martial arts. They have no stone to swim around. They are unidentifiable. They have no markings which make them distinct and clear. No forms, no traditions, no sense of etiquette, no traditional, hard and fast training methods.

Follow your traditional system. Its methods and traditions will remain steadfast; they form the “stone” around which you “swim.” They provide us with a great consistency; a solid anchor which we can see and touch and experience firsthand.

SOMETHING OLD, SOMETHING NEW, SOMETHING BORROWED...

 by Phillip Starr

Recently, an American martial arts teacher asked why martial arts styles developed by foreigners (read “Westerners”) are not considered “traditional” and are frowned upon by their Asian counterparts. Good question. I'd like to expound on that a bit.

Firstly, we need to define “traditional” in so far as martial arts are concerned. The dictionary defines tradition as:

1. The handing down of statements, beliefs, legends, customs, information, etc., from generation to generation, especially by word of mouth or by practice.

2. A long-established or inherited way of thinking or acting.

Of course, the question begs, just what is meant by “long-established?” How long is “long?” It must not be too awfully long because Tatsuo Shimabuku founded his Isshin-ryu style of karate in 1956 and Masutatsu Oyama formed his Kyokushin style in the same decade. Even Shotokan, which is now accepted as a form of traditional karate, is a relative newcomer to the martial arts world. Its founder, the revered “Father of Japanese karate” (Gichin Funakoshi), blended the Okinawan styles of Shorin and Shorei (“Shuri”) in the 1930's to create a new synthetic system. They'd all trained in an “accepted and traditional” art/style for a couple of decades or more and most of them retained a number of the forms (kata) that they'd learned, but they also introduced forms of their own making. These styles are now accepted as being “traditional.” So I would ask, “Where is the cut-off line for a method to be recognized as traditional?” Clearly, it wasn't too long ago... is it still ongoing?

It's clear that past martial arts zealots in Japan and China understood the importance of “tradition” and those who created new styles often attributed their “new methods” to mysterious hermits (in China, they were often Taoist or Buddhist hermits...) or even ghosts or goblins who taught them for some obscure reason. If they'd simply stated the truth – that they'd come up with some new ideas themselves – they'd have been outcasts as far as the martial arts community and their own social circles were concerned.

Presently, a large number of Westerners have several decades of training under their belts and some of them have done the same thing; they have created their own hybrid styles. However, the teacher to whom I referred in the beginning of this article was absolutely correct; a style or form of karate or kung-fu that has been created by a Westerner is NOT accepted as “traditional” by Asian or even most Western instructors. And quite frankly, I believe it is simply due to the fact that the style in question has been created by a Westerner.

This brings to mind a story regarding Master Peter Urban (10^th dan and founder of American Goju) and his teacher, the legendary Gogen “The Cat” Yamaguchi (a 10^th dan in Goju-ryu who studied under Master Chojun Miyagi). Mr. Urban had been promoted to 5^th dan and was sitting in his teacher's house with Yamaguchi's son, having tea and talking about karate. Urban was brash enough to ask about Westerners being promoted past the grade of 5^th dan. Yamaguchi said he'd never allow it because Westerners could never truly understand the fighting spirit of karate.

Urban mentioned something about Japan's defeat at the hands of the American military forces in WWII...and then realized he had REALLY shoved his foot in his mouth – clear to the knee! Yamaguchi was furious and Urban grabbed a small knife, preparing to cut off his left little finger at the first knuckle (as a way of apologizing for such a serious error). However, Yamaguchi's son grabbed Urban's hand and told him that such action would be pointless and he shouldn't do it. I believe that it was this incident that ended the relationship that Urban had had with his teacher. Later, Urban returned to the U.S. where he became one of the best-known karate teachers of the day.

However, it is Yamaguchi's answer to Urban's question that largely seals the meaning of just WHY Westerner who create their own methods are not readily accepted. Not only many Asians, but Westerners as well, either consciously or unconsciously refuse to believe that a Westerner can really grasp the technique, the essence, and the spirit of the (Asian) martial ways. And I will go on record saying that such biases are often (but not always) unfounded and untrue.

My own teacher, Master W.C. Chen, confided to me that he'd been told by other senior kung-fu practitioners and teachers that he shouldn't even try to teach Americans because they simply couldn't really understand the art. That's like Americans telling foreigners that only Americans can really play baseball.. I guess we forgot to tell the Japanese, who's best Little League team beat the bejeezus out've the top American team some years back.

Now, don't get me wrong; I'm certainly not advocating that we should all go out and create our own styles. Far from it! Before one is truly qualified to do such a thing, one should have trained assiduously in an accepted and traditional method for many years in order to acquire a genuine and complete understanding of one's chosen martial discipline. Only after perhaps 20 years of disciplined training can one begin to grasp the essence of a given style or art. There is simply no other way and there are NO short cuts! But there ARE Westerners who are every bit as qualified as their Asian counterparts to do so.

POLISH AND PERFECTION

 by Phillip Starr

In the world of martial arts there are a number of varieties from which aspiring students can choose. There are traditional martial arts, contemporary or “eclectic” martial arts, mixed martial arts, “realistic” martial arts (as opposed to the “fantasy” martial arts, I suppose), and so on. But I would argue that a number of these aren't really “arts” at all – at least not in the “martial arts” sense of the term – some aren't really “martial” per se, and the reasons for, and methods of, their practice differs considerably.

To begin with, the word “martial” as written in Chinese (and subsequently, Japanese) does not necessarily infer anything having to do with the military. 武 is the character for “bu” (“wu” in Chinese), which is translated as “martial.” Its radicals mean, “to stop the spear.” Although this can be easily inferred as a military action, it needn't be limited to that class. It can just as easily be thought of as a means of stopping violence or protecting oneself.

The objective of the traditional martial ways goes beyond merely learning how to best an opponent. They stress the importance of constantly polishing the techniques and forms with the ultimate goal being perfection of oneself. It is understood that this simply isn't possible in this lifetime but such a consideration doesn't dissuade practitioners from striving to reach that goal. They continue to practice throughout their lives, constantly polishing the art which has become the mirror in which they can see into their own hearts and know themselves.

Most contemporary and/or eclectic “martial arts” are directed at one thing; performance in front of an audience. There is no need for combat effectiveness, nor are they particularly interested in perfecting themselves and their spirits. The be-all, end-all of such activities lies primarily in aesthetic appeal.

“Martial” ways such as mixed martial arts often claim to be directed towards combat efficiency but I disagree. The objective of these methods is to win a match. They are, after all, sports... and the objective of participation in any sport is to win! And, as with all sports, there are rules that must be followed. They have no interest in perfection of technique; their goal lies solely in winning the game.

As for the “realistic martial arts”, their objective does not extend beyond defending oneself. Perfection of form or technique doesn't even enter the picture; practical combat effectiveness is all that matters. Once that has been achieved, the goal has been reached and the ride is over.

But for the traditional martial arts practitioner, the ride goes on for the remainder of his or her life. Sure, there will be ups and downs but the ride continues and although the drive to polish the “mirror” may wane from time to time, one always come back to it and starts polishing again. The seemingly simple reverse punch or front kick provide us with endless insights into our true selves.