IS SPIRIT IMPORTANT?

 By Phillip Starr

In the martial arts, we often hear the word “spirit.” Does this refer to what we, as Westerners, refer to as “soul?” Or is it something else? The revered “Father of Japanese karate”, Gichin Funakoshi, stresse the importance of spirit and said that karate in meaningless without it. The founder of Kyokushin karate, Mas Oyama, and the legendary Yamaguchi Gogen (of Goju-ryu, known as “the Cat”) also spoke frequently of the importance of spirit.

The first thing that we have to get straight is that, in so far as martial arts are concerned, “spirit” does not refer to what Westerners refer to as the “soul.” Rather, it refers to an unbreakable, indominatable will that is as strong as case-hardened steel; the drive to persevere and succeed at all costs, the willingness to do what must be done to accomplish a particular goal; attitude. Without this, martial arts become little more than dancing.

It is, in a very real sense, the glue that holds the art and all of its movements together. It isn't something that you are necessarily born with. It must be forged and then tempered through arduous training, which is often painful as well as tedious. It has nothing to do with machismo, the show of bravado. Such things are only outward posturing and nothing more. Spirit is much more than that.

Don't misunderstand; spirit cannot make up for poor technique. The two must go together. They are to be forged together, not separately. There is a technical word for what you become if you engage an enemy in battle and move in with a strong spirit and strike him...and your technique bounces off. It is DOGMEAT. The same term applies if your technique is good but your spirit is weak. You'll fail to do what must be done when the “moment of truth” presents itself.

And spirit must be tempered with wisdom. An untempered spirit may lead you to attempt very foolish things, You may well fail. In battle, doing something stupid often meant/means death. This is known as a “dog's death.” You don't want that, obviously.

Every aspect of your daily training must be done with a strong spirit. When you practice your single basic techniques, don't just “lob” them out there; you must imagine striking a foe who will take your life if your technique is weak or incorrect. When you do your forms, are you just running through the movements like a robot? I see this frequently at competitions; participants do their forms with less spirit than they'd have if they were doing a fancy dance. There's no “feeling” there; no spirit at all. The form is actually very weak although it may be pleasing to the eyes. It has no life.

Good teachers foster the development of a strong spirit in their students through arduous training and even vigorous exercise routines. Standing in a horse-riding stance for extended periods has always been one of the most basic ways of doing this. When my students did it, I told them that falling down was okay; they could get back up and continue trying. “Fall down means weak legs and hips”, I said. “That's okay. We can fix that. Giving up means weak spirit. I can't fix that.”