DON'T HAVE TIME...?

by Phillip Starr

In 2016 I met sensei Hino Akira while I was visiting Japan. A world-renowned martial arts master, Hino sensei began his martial arts career in karate. Being extremely devoted and determined to learn the secrets of high skill, he practiced arduously every day, doing sanchin kata daily for up to eight hours! That in itself is a testament to his dedication! However, he realized that what he had learned and practiced wasn't going to let him improve his skill as much as he wanted, so he began going through the ancient martial arts writings with a fine-toothed comb...and he gradually re-discovered various principles that had been long forgotten. He set out to present his findings to the martial arts community and is now in demand worldwide (especially in Europe).

Although he travels quite extensively, he also conducts training in the spacious dojo that he installed in his home. In the photo below, you can see Hino sensei's beautiful home. Pretty nice inside and out, huh? It's even more impressive when you discover that HE BUILT THE WHOLE THING HIMSELF! He didn't design it and then hire people to do the actual construction. He pounded every single nail himself. And held down a full-time job to boot.

And he kept up with his training. Every. Day. Although he's certainly not a very physically imposing specimen, he has an iron will and perhaps even more importantly, an unquenchable desire to learn and improve himself. Now at the age of 75+, he continues with his daily regimen. So next time you're about to say, “I don't have time to practice at home”, consider Hino sensei...

CUTTING CORNERS

 by Yang Xuangxing

We've all done it at one time or another; tried to “cut corners”: when it came to learning or practicing a particular form or technique...right? Sure we have, and that's normal. It's just human nature.

However, we discovered – some more quickly than others – that cutting corners isn't an efficient way to truly learn or acquire real skill. It often results in injuries. Then we had to drag ourselves back to the old tried and true method of practice – endless repetitions with mental focus.

There's an old Latin phrase that tells us, “Repetitio mater studiorum est .” It means, “repetition is the mother of all learning” and it's absolutely true. But there's much more to it than just going through the motions, lobbing out one empty technique after another. I call them “empty” because they're devoid of any real spirit and intention, and hence...real strength. Thus, the mind and intention must be focused on each and every repetition.

This is why it's generally pointless to practice a large number of the same techniques over and over. Your mind gets bored, you lose mental focus and/or your legs (or other body parts) begin to ache and your attention (yi) is drawn to that part of your body. In short, although your body is doing the same outer movement(s) repeatedly, your mind isn't fixed on what you're doing.

Physical repetition must be enjoined with mental concentration if you expect to derive any real benefit from your practice. And the corners you thought about cutting? Forget it.

COMFY? NOT!

 By Phillip Starr

For what it's worth, it's my opinion that much of the reason for the overall decline in the martial arts nowadays is due to...discomfort. New students dislike it (and often drop out), instructors are afraid that students will find certain routines too uncomfortable and they don't use them, or both. Actually, this has gone on for so long that we now have instructors who have never had to endure the rigors and frequent accompanying “discomforts” that were once part and parcel of traditional training.

In the East, it's generally understood and accepted that engaging in a martial art is going to hurt a bit but not so in the West where we've been made to be politically correct (except for a few such as yours truly) and strive to prevent offending anyone or making them physically uncomfortable. The West has managed to raise a generation of wimps; many public schools have reduced or eliminated physical education and children (as well as adults) are not made to engage in any activity that makes them uncomfortable.

If little Billy's legs are sore from running around the track yesterday, he'll be excused from doing any physical exercises today. And this attitude has been carried into many martial arts schools...a great many of them no longer make students practice static postures (such as the dreaded horse-riding stance) or any training routines that are usually painful. But it is this very aspect of training that develops character, spirit, and an indomitable will; things that are not only essential for the development of martial skill but necessary for daily life as well!

Authentic martial skill simply cannot be developed without enduring a considerable amount of discomfort. But nowadays, many instructors are overly concerned that everyone is “having fun.” They fear that discomfort may result in lower enrollment and subsequent loss of income. And so it might. Martial arts aren't for everyone.

CLUELESS

 by Phillip Starr

A good friend of mine, Mr. Chris Smaby (hachidan, JKA and student of Hidetaka Nishiyama and Keinosuke Enoeda) once told me with a chuckle that “There are those who don't have a clue (as to what authentic martial arts are), and then there are those who don't even suspect.” And I must say, I've certainly seen my share of both.

The clueless ones like to think that they know what they're doing; those who don't even suspect generally believe that they're doing is right and they refuse to pay attention to what else is out there. They KNOW they're right. They've learned and/or mastered all they need. They won't look any further.

These “maladies” often result from someone reading about a particular art or technique, watching a video about it, or attending a seminar(s) about it; none of these necessarily involve any firsthand, “hands-on” training. These methods of learning can be useful in learning various aspects of, or polishing an art in which one has already been taught. But learning an art from scratch? Nah...

Before the internet, such incomplete instruction was largely limited to those who attempted to learn from books and videos. But with the advent of the worldwide web, videos became much easier to come by and the problem snowballed. Now we have a whole generation of people who, starting off as rank novices, are convinced that they have acquired considerable skill in an art that they learned online or from books or seminars.

I have met people who became certified instructors in an art that they learned entirely through participation in seminars! They missed out on the rigorous daily training that actual students of the art must endure. And of course, they lightened their wallets rather considerably to obtain their certification, which only made them more determined to believe that their skill was authentic. Tragic and foolish. Books, seminars, and videos are useful as introductory or reference material but a complete martial art simply cannot be learned from them. To learn the real art requires frequent, regular attendance in a class taught by a genuine instructor.

The real tragedy is that many of these folks become instructors who will produce another generation of clueless, unsuspecting followers.

ALWAYS WATCHING, EVALUATING, TESTING

 by Phillip Starr

I was a young newcomer to this group. I lined up and stood still, waiting for class to begin. Sifu Chen shouted the command and we all jerked our fists to our hips. The best marching band in the country had nothing on us; we all managed to move in perfect unison. But it was sheer coincidence...

And we stood still, staring forward and not moving a muscle. I wondered what was going on but something told me not to look around. I became a fleshly statue. I remember thinking that we were fortunate that we weren't in my karate class, which began with everyone sitting in seiza!

I tried to maintain a look of fierce determination. Probably looked fairly silly, but I wanted to be accepted by this teacher. I wanted him to know that I could take it (actually, I had virtually no idea of what that would entail). Sifu Chen, attired in his sleeveless t-shirt and sweatpants, walked casually around us, and seemed to be oblivious to our existence.

Then he turned and looked at us. His gaze was gentle enough but he radiated an energy that was palpable. Was he getting inside my head, somehow? He nodded slowly to himself and told us to relax. For some inexplicible reason, I knew better than to completely let go. I relaxed my arms and spread my feet a bit just to get more comfortable but I kept staring straight ahead. I stayed focused and didn't let my young mind relax very far. I knew my teacher was still watching. And in the months and years to come, I'd learn that he was ALWAYS watching.

From the moment he saw us enter his home or the training area (which was a recreation room in his basement), he watched...how we carried ourselves, how we greeted and treated each other, the condition of our training clothes, how we warmed up before class (not just what we did, but out attitudes as well). And he watched during and after class as well. He was always evaluating us, not just in terms of physical condition or martial prowess, but our spirits and what was in our hearts as well.

And he was constantly testing us, often in very subtle ways, to see how we'd respond...not only to doing our best to accomplish what was essentially an impossible task, but also how we responded to failure, criticism, and even success. He was probing, finding out who and what we really were, inside and out. Those who he judged to be worthy (in character and spirit more than mere technique), he'd spend more time and once they reached a certain level of skill, he'd show little “tweaks” - aspects of the art (spiritual and/or mental as well as physical).

When I began teaching many years later, I sought to do the same thing. It's not something that can be assimilated quickly. I'm still working on it...

UKEMI'S IMPORTANCE

 by Phillip Starr

In speaking with an old student, I learned that he was attending regular “meet-ups” of various martial arts practitioners who all practice together in an effort to improve their skills outside of class. This is a wonderful idea but my student made one important observation; NONE of the other participants knew how to breakfall. Only when they ventured to a local kenjutsu school (that also included traditional jujutsu in their training) was he able to practice the various forms of throwing and takedowns that he had learned from me.

I think the absence of proper ukemi (breakfalling) training in many martial arts schools is most unfortunate. I remember my early days as a young boy when I was so excited to begin learning the exotic Eastern martial at of judo. We spent the first lessons practicing various forms of breakfalls and for me at that age, it was great fun! But as I got older, I realized the importance of learning ukemi (at any age) and it had a lot more importance that just being fun...

In learning how to fall correctly, we are doing much more than we think. We're overcoming, little by little, one of the most fundamental human fears (it may, in fact, be THE most fundamental human fear); that of FALLING. From childhood, we learn to fear this thing (usually because we've taken a few nasty spills) and as we get older, the fear grows...unless we do something about it.

A good and caring instructor is necessary. I have always (and still do) teach breakfalls to new students “from the ground up.” They begin in a supine position and gradually work their way up to beginning from a sitting position (on the floor), a squat, and so on. Children generally LOVE the rolling techniques and we make a game of it. I was very fortunate in developing this skill when I was still quite young. It is useful not only for the practice of martial arts, but for daily life as well.

Ukemi is a tremendous confidence booster. When a child or an adult learns how to do them properly, they feel very much empowered! Their confidence, their belief in themselves and their ability to overcome obstacles soars! This impacts not only their martial skills, but their daily lives as well. If you've never learned proper ukemi, I implore you to do so as soon as possible. It WILL make a difference!

SLOW DOWN!!!

 by Yang Shuangxing

Some martial arts enthusiasts scoff at the practice of taijiquan, which is often practiced mostly in slow motion. Fine. There are reasons for it (by the way, taiji is never APPLIED slowly). Have you ever tried to do a form from your particular discipline in slow motion? I mean REALLY slow. Go ahead; try it. Start off with your most basic form. I'll wait...

You say it's not so tough to do? Well...did you slow down EVERYTHING, including your kicks and steps? Yes, the kicks have to be done very slowly. You mustn't “fling” out your kicks uncontrollably. You'll quickly notice that they don't go as high as usual. It takes great strength in the hips and legs to perform a slow-motion kick any higher than your waist. Try to slowly kick out as high as you can and hold it there for a nice ten-count.

And when you stepped, did you do it quickly? It has to be slow, too. You mustn't “fall” on your foot. Each step must be perfectly controlled. It's a whole lot tougher than it looks! You don't want to “hurl” yourself at the enemy...your movement must be perfectly controlled.

Now, try again and this time, do EVERYTHING in slow motion. And when that becomes comfortable (and that's not going to happen for awhile), pay close attention to exactly how each movement and posture FEELS. Can you feel the punch all the way to your foot? Can you feel what your hips and shoulders are doing? Can you feel how they're connected? How about when you kick...what parts of your body (other than your kicking leg and foot) are involved and exactly what are they doing?

Did you coordinate your breathing with your movements or were you sucking wind at the halfway point? Breath and body have to be coordinated. Were any body parts overly tense when you moved? They shouldn't have been.

There's an old martial arts saying that says, “If you can't do it slow (correctly), you can't do it fast.” True enough.