THE SPACES IN BETWEEN

 by Phillip Starr

The seemingly “empty spaces” that occur frequently between techniques and postures of your forms...aren't necessarily at all what they seem! It LOOKS like they're empty – nothing appears to be going on – but that usually isn't the case at all. In the Chinese, Japanese, and Okinawan forms, the posture must be “just so” in between the postures and movements. Many of you have probably had the experience of your teacher making minute adjustments at these points. There are reasons for it; it's not simply for aesthetic appeal.

I have seen schools wherein the students were taught to pretty much casually drop their hands between techniques. This is really unfortunate; they'll never be able to fully “read”, understand, and get the full benefit of their forms.

Within those “empty spaces” are often concealed forms of striking and even joint manipulations. In days long past, many teachers would not openly show this material to most students. This is, I feel, very regrettable because it led to losing so much of this treasure.

Take your most basic form and perform it SLOWLY. Pay special attention to the “spaces between” the postures or techniques; exactly how and where are the hand(s) to be placed? How about the feet? Weight shifting, turning, and movement of the hips or knees...? Is the placement of the hand(s) to be applied against a form of grabbing from the front or rear?

With close examination and lots of work, you'll discover that the “empty spaces”... aren't.

SHUGYO

 by Phillip Starr

All of us, at one time or another, run up against obstacles that seem to block our progress along the path (of martial arts). Actually, we run into them with some considerable frequency.

Too early in the morning to practice? Get out of the sack and train. Is it a bit cold or wet outside? Get dressed and train anyway. Weary of the whole journey? Suck it up and train. Persevere with an iron will. This is the advice given to the martial artist who runs up against (what he/she perceives as) an obstacle along the Way. It is advice that is usually lost on the novice.

When a beginner undertakes the study and practice of a martial discipline, he cannot imagine what kinds of obstacles will eventually drop in front of him. And if they appear at this early stage, he'll likely discontinue his training altogether. The art has not yet become a regular part of his daily life, so he can quit without any damage to his psyche. But for the more advanced practitioner, quitting can have serious emotional and psychological consequences and he must turn to shugyo (austerity; austere training) in order to persevere.

The novice often regards training in a martial art simply as a hobby or interesting pastime, so quitting is no big deal. But for the more advanced practitioner, it has become a part of his life. It's important to him; a daily habit, if you will.

Both the novice and the more advanced practitioner will ultimately hit a plateau in their training; a period of time when it seems that no progress is being made. The advanced devotee has probably encountered this phenomena before but as his training progresses, the plateaus seem to last longer and longer. He may consider just giving up...after all, this “art” produces no real tangible rewards and seems to have little practical value. Friends and even family may encourage him to simply quit and do something “more useful.” And the novice may well succumb to his own thoughts and the prodding of others who know little or nothing about this exotic exercise that he does.

The martial arts practitioner who has ventured more deeply upon the martial path is not necessarily so easily dissuaded. Although the master often simply encourages him to continue with his training, he is watching closely. He is keenly aware of his student's frustration, discouragement, and pain. But he knows there is really nothing that he can do other than encourage his student to continue.

The student has reached a crossroads. What will he do? If he persists in his daily training, the practitioner will come out of the plateau and realize that he has reached a new level of the martial Way. His austere training has brought him through the barrier(s) that faced him.

THE SHORT FISTS OF KUNG-FU

 by Phillip Starr

In traditional kung-fu we hear of the northern styles being “long fist” and the southern styles being called “short fist.” These are generalizations, of course. The northern forms of kung-fu generally utilize wider, sweeping movements and many employ high kicks. The southern forms vary considerably; styles such as Hung-Gar (in Mandarin, Hong-Jia), and Choy-Lay fut (Cai Li Fo), although they don't make use of high kicks, sometimes use fairly long arm movements and stances.

There is another type of southern kung-fu, however...Wing Chun is a typical example. Stances are short and rather high, kicks are all quite low and the arm movements are close and compact. Some of these would include southern crane styles (such as southern white crane, feeding crane, crying crane, and so on), Pak Mei (White Eyebrow), southern praying mantis, southern dragon fist, Lau-Gar, etc.

These short, close-quarter styles were developed for use in the tiny alleys of southern China. I thought I understood what a small “back alley” was like until I actually lived in southern China; there, I saw alleyways that were so small that I couldn't fully extend both arms without touching the walls of opposing buildings! There's absolutely NO room for long arm movements, stances, footwork, or high, long kicks! Fighting in such a place would require a high level of skill at (extremely) close-quarters combat.

These kinds of fighting styles which include various quick takedowns, joint twists, and spotting (hitting certain vital points) generally specialize in what is sometimes referred to as “cun jing” (pronounced “tsoon jin”, which means “inch power”) because blows are often delivered at very close range, as opposed to being delivered from the hip.

These styles have never achieved the same level of popularity as their sister styles of Hung-Gar or Choy-Lay Fut, and especially their northern cousins because, well....they're HOMELY. No flash, nothing fancy at all (or anything even close to it); just very short, choppy movements that are extremely practical for self-defense in close, very tight spaces. And their influence on early Okinawan karate is obvious. While Shorin-ryu (“shorin” is the Japanese pronunciation of “shao-lin”) traces its ancestry back to the northern form(s) of shaolinquan, styles such as Goju-ryu developed from southern crane styles (Goju-ryu comes from the Crying Crane style). The third major form of Okinawan karate, Uechi-ryu, looks like it may well come from a form of southern mantis boxing.

SEEKING SHELLS AND COSMETICS

by Phillip Starr

In most contemporary martial disciplines, there's a lot of emphasis placed on exactly, precisely how a given technique is to be performed. To be sure, this is necessary when first learning a technique or movement but oftentimes, practitioners get stuck in this particular rut. Their minds focus on whether or not they (or someone else) do the movement exactly so. This stunts their growth and becomes a bad habit that can be very difficult to break. They begin to think of their techniques and movements in terms of exactly how the foot should be placed, and so on. Without necessarily being consciously aware of it, they're focusing on learning and practicing the “outer shell” of their particular martial art. Many of them never progress beyond this stage...like an egg that never hatches.

This isn't to say that students should be free to perform the various techniques and movements however they wish...I call that the “general idea” approach. Executing a particular punch or kick must necessarily be done in a very specific way. But once that stage has been reached, students must move beyond it. Many never do (and some go on to become instructors). This anal retentiveness is very common within the neijia (internal Chinese martial arts) community. A great many of them focus their attention almost entirely on exactly how the feet (and even the toes) are to be placed, and so on. Very nitpicky. Very. Nitpicky. Too nitpicky.

What should be focused on after the student is able to perform the technique properly is/are the principle(s) involved. Without this understanding, he/she may well be doing the technique or movement incorrectly although it may have the outward appearance of exactitude. Unfortunately, many of those who teach aren't altogether certain themselves of just what or which principle(s) are involved. They got stuck themselves in the rut of “technique.”

Others concern themselves with how they LOOK when they perform the technique/movement. To them, it's about cosmetics. They're concerned with “looking good.” This path leads to nowhere. I laugh when I tell people that the southern kung-fu systems are actually rather homely unless you know what to look for...there are no jumps, twirls, flying kicks, or any of that. No make-up. No “styled hair.” Real martial arts are oftentimes rather plain or even homely...

Then there are those who, after learning how a technique or movement is performed, get all tangled up in combat application and self-defense. This becomes their new polestar. Certainly, understanding application and being able to practically use the technique is very important, but it's not the end point. Not yet.

They miss the importance of “feeling.” That is, how the technique/movement “feels” inside their bodies and how it affects (different areas of) their bodies. To do this requires a good deal of patience (which many aspiring martial arts “masters” seem to lack) and perseverance. One must “listen” and “taste” the technique/movement. Oftentimes, the flavor is rather subtle, so it's important to pay attention.

The technique/movement may LOOK right – it may even look really cool – but it's nothing more than a doughnut. Nothing inside. Kind of like a politician. Practice it SLOWLY and FEEL how it affects different parts of your body. If you know the principle(s) involved in its execution, you should be able to feel them easily. You might be surprised to discover that they're just not there! You might discover certain parts of your body being involved in the technique when they shouldn't be. If you listen carefully and savor the movement, you may be surprised at what you find.

THE SECRETS

 by Phillip Starr

When I was a young martial arts student, I was absolutely convinced that there were “secret techniques” which, once learned, would bestow great fighting prowess upon me. I searched and searched for them but was unable to find such special techniques. My teacher would just chuckle and tell me to keep practicing the basics and that only convinced me further that he was simply concealing the truth. In time, however, I came to realize that there are no “silver bullets.” There are just (basic) techniques polished to a very high degree and executed with absolute precision.

However...

I DID discover that within the basics are certain principles that can be considered “secret.” Most of them are principles that had once been practiced openly but which, with the passage of time and for one reason or another, had been tossed by the wayside and forgotten. Thus, they had become “secret.” These forgotten principles are the real “silver bullets” that, once thoroughly learned and applied correctly, actually DO bestow great martial ability.

I've always thought that “hiding” such things from students is a poor idea and rather selfish. Admittedly, I don't teach many of these principles until the student is physically and/or emotionally prepared the handle them. But once they're ready, I teach them openly. Too many treasures have been taken to the grave by those who were keeping them too close to the chest. Although they were certainly skilled martial artists and many were also fine teachers, they actually strangled their art.

The old notion of keeping things from those who are unworthy or who have not yet proven their loyalty is, I think, rather silly. Anyone who has put in the hard work in training to reach the levels where he/she is capable of handling the appropriate “secrets” is most likely not a bad person who plans to misuse the knowledge and skill; people like that are usually in a hurry to learn a few “tricks” and they won't stick around for very long and endure the screaming muscles, bumps, bruises, strawberries, and all the rest...

QUESTIONS OR FAITH?

 By Phillip Starr

When martial arts were first introduced to the West by Japanese and Korean (and later, Okinawan and Chinese) instructors, students were not encouraged to ask questions. Those who did often received very painful answers. I know I certainly did! Eventually, most of these teachers came to understand that this is how Westerners learn; we ask questions about everything. But even today in modern Japan, Korea, and China, to question the teacher is considered an affront his authority. Not only is it considered rude, it is also seen as an implication that the teacher may be teaching something incorrectly and/or doesn't really know the answer. The safest and courteous bet is to simply do as you're told and keep your mouth shut.

This attitude about asking questions stems from the tenets of Confucianism, which places the teacher (of anything) on a very high pedestal. His authority is never to be questioned in any way. It still holds true to this day and I witnessed its effects in the high school (in China) in which I taught; students did not dare to question the teacher.

Martial arts students took everything on faith. And it shows. The revered “Father of Japanese Karate”, Gichin Funakoshi (who introduced karate from Okinawa to Japan in 1923), was warned by his seniors in Okinawa not to show the Japanese “too much” (the Okinawans and Japanese didn't think much of each other)...and that he should also bear in mind where his family lived...Okinawa!

The bunkai (applications) of the forms that he taught was subsequently skewed. In some cases, he taught no bunkai at all, leaving it up to his students to do it themselves. This resulted in some serious errors being made in the bunkai, many of which are still taught to this day. Numerous Western teachers altered some of the kata because they didn't understand the applications of certain movements. Others tossed them out altogether, ending up with a soulless, blank slate of what was once a martial art.

THE QUEST

 by Phillip Starr

In the many years that I have been involved in the study of martial arts, I have been most fortunate in having trained with several excellent instructors. I still do. I started off in judo, which I regarded (at my young age) to be THE finest method of self-defense in existence. In a short time I changed over to gong-fu and I was convinced that THIS was the best martial discipline. I was wrong. Again. As the years passed I would train in two forms of Japanese karate, and more forms of gong-fu (baixingquan, taijiquan, xingyiquan, and baguazhang).

After a time, I came to realize that there is NO ULTIMATE martial art; each one has something special to offer. I had more experience in gong-fu with karate running a close second but I understood that just because gong-fu was my foundation there was no need to toss out everything I'd learned from karate. On the contrary, even my gong-fu teacher (Master W. C. Chen) liked some of the things that I had gleaned from my years in karate.

I would go on to train in arnis (aka. kali or escrima), jeet kune do, and I even dabbled a bit in European fencing and muay thai. Actually, I did more than dabble in them; I was certified as an instructor in both Pekiti-Tersia arnis and JKD. I say this not to blow my own horn, but to show that I studied them very seriously.

Many years ago I gave up looking for “silver bullets”; techniques or martial disciplines that would turn me into an invincible fighter and/or an all-knowing sage. Such things simply don't exist except in the imagination. I wanted to LEARN from each art. Kung-fu was my foundation but I wanted to taste what else was out there and see if I could learn anything useful from them. And I did!

Gong-fu remains my foundation to this day but I'm still on my quest for knowledge. I had always wanted to study the art of the Japanese sword, so I took up iaido. Has this helped me improve my gong-fu? You bet it has! I was very fortunate to have been able to train with Master Hidetaka Nishiyama (Shotokan), who was undoubtedly one of the finest karate masters of the last century. What I learned from him is immeasurable. And Master Seiyu Oyata of Ryukyu (Okinawan) karate taught me a great deal as well. We would become good friends and as I did with Master Chen; I would learn as much from him at a kitchen table as I would on the dojo floor.

The most valuable things that I learned from these fine men weren't special “silver bullet” techniques; they were PRINCIPLES that could be applied to various individual techniques or body movements. And these principles didn't always have to do with physical actions.

Certainly, I haven't necessarily gleaned special techniques that can be directly applied to my gong-fu from European fencing and iaido but what I learned from fencing and continue to learn from iaido are readily applicable to my martial art. All my life, I have been on a quest to learn and I have taken water from numerous wells in doing so. No one source has all the answers.

I have met many instructors who forbid their students to train in any martial discipline other than what they teach and I have met countless students of such instructors. This is always a disappointment. Such instructors are often insecure about what they teach or their ability to teach it and they fear that allowing students to step outside of their direct grasp will result in students leaving the dojo. I will always be thankful to my teachers for encouraging me to learn from whatever sources I could find. They weren't worried that I might become “tainted”, learn something they didn't already know, or realize that they didn't have all the answers. In keeping with their trust in me, I encourage my students to experience other martial forms.

And so I continue with my quest. My foundation is gong-fu and I would never consider thinking something like, “I study such-and-such martial art and I dare not taint myself or show disrespect to my teachers by learning something from another source.” Each form and the culture from which it comes has something to offer those who are willing to drink from their cups, to don a new white belt with a “beginner's mind”, and learn.

PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER

 by Phillip Starr

“There is no magic in punching like this”, my teacher told us as he performed a crisp corkscrew punch. I didn't altogether understand what he was trying to say because I was simply too young and all wrapped up in learning various movements (techniques) that I thought would bestow great power upon me. As the years passed and I continued my training – and most importantly, as I began teaching – I finally realized what his words really meant. I have since often repeated them to my own students.

The key to any given martial art isn't so much in the technique; the real secret(s) lie in the proper body structure. This is one of the reasons I wrote MARTIAL MECHANICS. But I later wrote a sequel to it that delves deeper into the subject (MARTIAL STRUCTURE).

There's much more to martial art than simply standing in a certain manner and executing a particular technique. Much. More. Body structure is what gives the technique real power. There's no need for what I call “oomph strength” in a given technique. Just precision and correct structure. If those two things are added to the mix, the technique suddenly becomes enormously powerful and devastating with minimal physical effort.

Proper structure is one of the main reasons for the regular practice of zhan-zhuang (stake standing). Many practitioners of Chinese martial arts believe that the main reason for their use (mainly in the internal arts) is for the cultivation of qi but I believe they are mistaken; the main reason for their regular practice is to teach correct structure and alignment (which will naturally lend itself – once it is thoroughly learned – to the cultivation of intrinsic energy).

Internal martial forms such as taijiquan, baguazhang, and xingyiquan, are all about proper structure. It's one thing to get it when you're standing in a static posture (and even that takes some time!), but it's quite another to maintain proper structure when you move...hence, the reason taiji is practiced mostly in slow motion and why all three of the neijia emphasize the importance of “holding” certain postures.

The study of proper body structure must necessarily involve more than an understanding of the various laws of physics. It must also involve a good understanding of kinesiology (how the human body works). Sometimes the two seem to be at odds with each other and in those cases, kinesiology wins out.

For instance, physics will tell us that the greater the size of the base (your stance) relative to the height of the object (how tall you are), the more stable it is. But this isn't necessarily true when we're dealing with a human body. According to strict physical laws, your horse-riding stance should be very stable if you widen your base by spreading your feet as far apart as possible...and we all know how that's going to work out! So we must figure in the principles of kinesiology...

Did all of the martial arts masters of times past know about this? I don't think so. Many clearly did, as seen by the emphasis placed on structure in the methods that have been passed down to us. However, quite a number didn't know about this as evidenced by the same thing. Many of these principles were regarded as secret and not taught openly and/or were taught only to trusted worthies. So the secrets remained secret and are still secret (for the most part) to this day.

One highly respected Japanese master, sensei Akira Hino, “re-discovered” many of these principles by studying ancient texts and training as they directed him. He began training in Goju-ryu karate and had been told that the kata of Sanchin was really the heart of that art. He would practice this kata for several hours every day and eventually realized that its value lay in what it teaches in terms of structure. Sensei Hino began carefully studying and analyzing ancient texts on the various ancient arts. He subsequently developed a special method of training that focuses on correct structure and currently teaches in Japan and offers seminars worldwide.

So the secrets remain safely obscure to this day...unless you know where and how to look and you have the willingness to cast aside your pride and be as a blank slate.