THE DEATH FACTOR

 by Phillip Starr

For all the spiritual insights that one might achieve, it is often well to remember just what the various martial disciplines were designed for; killing other human beings as quickly and efficiently as possible. They were not intended to get you in touch with your inner child, reduce stress, or help you get rid of those nasty extra pounds. Certainly, there are many benefits to be gained from regular practice of a martial discipline but don't mistake a benefit for the primary purpose of the art.

Now, I'm not advocating the practice of some kind of so-called “reality martial art” where we all wear spiffy camouflaged pants and combat boots. What I'm saying is that it is essential to practice as if our lives depend upon what we do; as if we're engaged in actual combat. When you practice your basic techniques at full-tilt boogie, when you burn through your kata, when you practice basic one-step or freestyle sparring with a partner, it should be done with the feeling that the slightest error, the smallest loss of balance, power, or anything else will result in your immediate demise. Don't just “lob” your kicks out there, don't dance your way through your forms, and don't just toss your techniques at your partner as if you're playing catch. Gichin Funakoshi, the “Father of Japanese Karate” put it very succinctly when he said, “Practice should be done with deadly seriousness.”

Sure, there are times for playing and laughing but for the most part, training should be very serious. For beginning students, it is perhaps a little less serious because they are still learning how to execute the various movements and control their techniques (to avoid injuring their partners as well as themselves), but for more senior practitioners it is much more serious. When two seniors square off to practice one-step fighting, the receiver must understand that if he makes a mistake, he may well be knocked down. He must feel as though he is looking death in the face. He must face up to the primary underlying fear that we all have in our hearts...the fear of death. And he must overcome it.

It is this experience that's vital to acquiring a real understanding of the essence of martial arts. It's one thing to attend class and enjoy the social life that it offers. It's quite another thing to face a partner who will surely knock you out of your socks if you make an error. It needn't always be this way but such serious training is a very necessary part of traveling the martial path. I once met a female taijiquan teacher who assured me that she KNEW that taiji had never been a martial art. She disdained fighting in any way, shape, or form and insisted that taijiquan had been developed to improve health and awaken a certain sense of spirituality. There was no convincing her otherwise.

Another taijiquan school had a sign outside that said, “Taijiquan; The Harmless Martial Art.” Kind of a paradox, I thought. But I was walking with some friends and decided to turn away from that one. Just another flake in a bowl of granola.

Intention is another key factor. If your training partner doesn't have the INTENTION to knock you down, how can you expect to ever learn to connect with him and FEEL his intention? The ability to do this could well mean the difference between life and death in a serious struggle.

A rough parallel can be drawn between a soldier who has completed basic training and a veteran who has looked death in the face. They both know how to use their weapons; they both received the same training but the veteran has something that the newbie lacks. Experience. He's experienced the knotting of his gut, the surge of adrenalin that pours into his bloodstream by the gallon just before combat, the fear, the doubt, and many other things that occur just before he rushes into the jaws of death. He's learned to control them, to do what he must do regardless of the fear factor and the so-called “lizard brain” theory.

It is my contention that this kind of experience and subsequently, training that is as close to the real thing as we can get without going over the edge and actually injuring each other, helps to eliminate the “lizard-brain” concept. Repeated, realistic training is the key. Unrealistic practice, especially that which involves a partner who has no real INTENTION, leads to nothing.

And it is my belief that regular, repeated training of this kind can lead to a true understanding of the spiritual side of the martial ways. One who has never “looked death in the face” can never achieve this level of understanding. As the legendary Masutatsu Oyama (founder of Kyokushin karate) told us, “To truly understand the spirit of karate, we must face death and, if necessary, be willing to die.”