LEAD OR FOLLOW?

 By Phillip Starr

One of the small things that is very important in the practice of martial arts, but which is often ignored or forgotten is this...stretching. No, I'm not talking about simply stretching your body – although that is extremely important – but “stretching” your mind as well.

To begin, issuing power (fajin) is extremely difficult, if not impossible, if your body – from the shoulders to the waist and hips, to the legs – is not adequately flexible. Virtually all percussive martial arts employ a form of fajin. The method(s) utilized by the “internal” arts is different from many methods used by the “external” schools, but the fact is that all of them use a method of emitting power.

To emit power efficiently, whether in an internal or external style, requires a fair measure of flexibility. This can only be achieved through proper stretching (not just “loosening up.”). This is especially true of the internal schools.

Moreover, when performing techniques, it is essential that the mind (yi) LEAD the body. Too often, we ignore this concept and keep the mind focused on the technique; on ourselves. This only hinders the technique and efficient emission of power. The mind must be “in front” of the technique; directed towards the opponent (whether real or imagined). In a sense, the mind “stretches” out in front of the body. You must never allow the body to lead your movement; your intention (yi) must lead, never follow.

KANTOKU (To Perceive Virtue)

 by Phillip Starr

I once read about a well-known instructor of kenjutsu who was introduced to the art of chado (the Way of tea ceremony) by his teacher and wife, who were both avid practitioners of the art. In the traditional Japanese tea ceremony, there is MUCH more involved than simply pouring someone a cup of tea and drinking it. Much. More. Everything, every tiny thing, must be done just so. There are even actual kata that must be mastered...

One day, his teacher was showing him variations on the “temae” (the movements, the kata, of chado). He was explaining the “ kinin kiyotsugu usucha”; the proper term to be used for serving tea to a person of nobility or an aristocrat. The young student asked why he was to learn this; the feudal days of Japan had ended long ago. It was a fair question and his teacher nodded. “Yes, but you can learn to use the sense of “kantoku” that serving tea like this can teach you. And you can use that many times in your life.”

“Kantoku” is a very old-fashioned word in Japan. The young student tried to find it in a half dozen Japanese dictionaries, but to no avail. It means, literally, “to perceive virtue” and if and when it is heard at all nowadays, it's likely in a martial arts school or in another of the “do” forms such as the tea ceremony or ikebana (flower arranging). It has no English equivalent; grace, composure, awareness, and controlled vigor are all components of kantoku.

Its martial origins are to be found in kyujutsu (the feudal art of the bow and arrow). The founder of kyujutsu, Morikawa Kozan, wrote that an archer has two goals. The first is, of course, to hit the target. The second was the development and perfection of kantoku. Nowadays, kyudo (as it is called) is largely a matter of shooting at a fixed target. Mastering the etiquette, poise, mental focus, and kata are of paramount importance. But in the feudals days, training was very severe and shooting from atop a galloping horse (called yabusame) was critical. Today, this can be seen in special demonstrations and it's really quite remarkable.

Of course, the sword overtook the bow as the primary weapon of the samurai. Near the end of the feudal era, archery competitions were often held and this contributed to a decline in the art. Hinatsy Shigetaka wrote in 1716 that archery had devolved from a true martial art into “mere gambling for the sake of amusement.” “If only those conversant in the old ways would show us the etiquette and decorum of former times”, he said. “Nothing more important could be done to restore the true Way of the bow.” What he was decrying was not entirely the loss of kyudo's purely martial applications, but the loss of kantoku.

Kantoku became a component of archery because so many of the art's ceremonies, were conducted before higher-ranking samurai and the aristocracy. It was grace and calmness and energy exercised under the intense stress of performing in front of one's superiors. It vanished when the ceremonies were replaced with sports and other shallow diversions, viewed by audiences unable or unwilling to discriminate the finer points of the art and who were more concerned with the production of a “champion.”

I realize, of course, that contestants in any form of competition (from a sports championship to an audition) are under pressure to perform well. But amongst the spectators watching the performance, how many can appreciate real technique and virtuous behavior as opposed to mere artifice or displays of ego? How many can genuinely appreciate the attributes of kantoku that might be present in a particular performer? It's hard for us to imagine the sort of pressure the lords and masters brought to bear on the samurai in the days of feudalism just as it is difficult to imagine the tension experienced by the practitioner of chado who was engaged in making and serving tea before the nobility. Certainly, there are lessons to be learned from contemplating such things, for within the dynamics of those ancient pressures lay the essence of kantoku. Can we revive it?

IS IT REALLY NECESSARY?

 By Phillip Starr

When I was living in China, I was once approached by a young man who was one of my English students. He knew that I practiced martial arts and asked why I bothered to practice such an arcane art. I told him that there were several reasons but he went on and said, “But you can't make a living that way (I could easily argue that point but I understood what he was saying) and since we have modern-day policemen, why continue to train in an ancient form of self-defense? He felt that it had very little, if any, practical use in today's “modern” society.

Ah, the blissful ignorance of youth!

Violent crime is very rare in China and even more rare in Japan. This is not, as many contemporary leftists believe, due to the lack of availability of firearms, but because of the culture of these nations. Still, it does occur and even more so in other nations! The need for effective self-defense is probably greater now than ever before.

I'm reminded of a story here about a scholar who took a small ferryboat to cross a rather large river. As the boatman handled the rudder, the scholar asked him if he'd ever read some of the great Confucian classics. The boatman said that he'd never learned to read and the scholar smugly replie, “Ah, what a waste! You have lost half a life!” Time passed and before long a a squall had come up and the boat began taking water from the crashing waves. The boatman turned to the scholar, “Can you swim? The boat's going to sink.” The scholar replied that he'd never learned to swim and the boatman said, “Ah, what a waste...you have lost all of a life!”

Stress in unquestionably responsible for many more deaths annually than violence. It is insidious and our “modern” society, with all of its creature comforts, only serves to increase it. Everywhere we turn, there are “new and effective” programs being hawked as ways to reduce one's stress level. Martial arts is an excellent way to reduce stress. Whether it's taijiquan, taekwondo, judo...they're all effective.

Fitness is another story altogether. Looking at the current generation of both children and adults, it's clear that some sort of regular fitness program is needed more than ever! Getting fit and staying fit contributes to both mental and physical health. Many “fitness programs” have a central problem that is one of the main reasons people don't stick with them for very long (if at all)...boredom. But martial arts are anything but boring.

And then there's discipline. As with fitness, the need for discipline is needed by both adults and youngsters nowadays. Desperately. My most senior student hails from Japan, where he trained in various forms of gong-fu for many years before we met. He told me that discipline is one of the greatest benefits he derived from his training when he was young.

Today's world is, in my opinion, more violent and dangerous, more confusing, stressful, and undisciplined than ever before. Laws can be passed all the livelong day but to no avail. Each of us must take responsibility for ourselves.

Taking responsibility for ourselves and striving to perfect ourselves (or at least, to improve ourselves to some measurable degree) gives us a goal...and without a goal, we are lost.

IN ONE BREATH

 by Phillip Starr

The study of proper breathing in so far as martial arts are concerned is a tricky subject but one that must be well-understood and utilized by anyone wishing to acquire real skill. You've all been told that you must exhale when emitting power and this is true. You should exhale 2/3 of your air as quickly as possible – I tell my students “in the space of a gunshot.” This means you have to open your mouth and avoid pursing your lips like a blowfish. If the opening through which the air is blown out is too small, it takes too long for it to be fully exhaled. Novices have to practice opening their mouths to do it properly. I tell my students, “Your mother always said you have a big mouth...so use it!”

Basically, your body works like a machine that is powered by a bellows. To make a strong movement, a large quantity of air must be forced through it. Small quantities of air just won't do it. And to make movement faster, the air must be forced through the machine quickly. When you are pushing your car, for example, you exhale slowly. But in martial arts, we want both a powerful movement and a fast movement. So 2/3 of the air must be exhaled very, very quickly (1/3 is kept in reserve).

With some practice, students can learn to do this fairly well. Now, let's look at the 4 stages of a breath and how that affects what we do:

1. First, you inhale (through the nose is preferable). It is at this time that you are most susceptible to blows; you can hardly resist them (unless you have learned a special form of breathing that I call “inverse breathing.”). Moreover, your reaction time is cut down by about 50%.

2. Then there's a slight, almost imperceptible pause. You are still unable to resist incoming blows.

3. Exhalation. This is when you are strongest – able to resist blows and move quickly.

4. A second pause occurs, leaving you as vulnerable as #2. This pause usually lasts just a bit longer than the previous one.

So, in delivering multiple blows (a combination), what should you do? If you watch your classmates, I'll bet money that they exhale seperately with each technique. This means that they are very vulnerable in between their techniques because their breath is paused, they are holding their breath, or they are inhaling. This is not a good thing.

Combinations should be fired off IN A SINGLE BREATH! And don't lengthen the exhalation to accommodate them; your exhalation should be as fast as possible...just as if you're executing a single technique. Your body will have to accommodate your breath by learning to move faster!

This isn't too difficult to do with a two-technique combination. Try three. It's much harder to do and will require considerable practice. Four technique combinations are darned near impossible! The next time you see someone perform a combination that involves more than three techniques, you can pretty well be assured that they're inhaling in there somewhere...not likely that they're doing it in a single breath!

Now, the very same idea applies to your forms...actually, any time that you fire off a combination. If your form calls for more than one blow to be delivered to the opponent, you must do so in one breath (unless the form distinctly calls for a pause, which rarely happens). This will help you learn the proper rhythm(s) of your forms. It's going to take time, patience, and lots of practice.

This begs the question, “just when do I exhale; at the beginning or end of a technique or combination?” The answer can be found by watching a car racing event! When the flag is still raised, the drivers rev their cars...hitting the gas so they'll go flying off the line when the flag drops. They don't try to give themselves much of an extra burst of speed and power just as they're closing on the finish line. The same is true for a rocket launch. The blast-off occurs at the beginning to give the missile plenty of power and speed to go into orbit. So...your breath is exhaled at the BEGINNING of your technique rather than at the end. Trying to exhale at the very end of your technique doesn't work well...and attempting to do so will usually result in your breath being mis-timed so that the exhalation occurs too late.

Practice, practice, practice!

THE IMPORTANCE OF SUBTLETIES

by Yang Xuangxing

As you acquire more experience in your practice of martial arts, you have likely taken notice of numerous “subtleties” that can dramatically affect your technique and/or your ability to effectively apply it. At least I hope you have.

For instance, in iaido the sword is to be gripped just so. In fact, you mustn't use an actual “grip” (like holding a stick or baseball bat) when drawing the sword; the hand isn't closed as the sword is drawn! This has to be learned from a qualified instructor and it took me more than three years to get it (and I'm still working on it). In “open” tournament Weapons Division, it's not unusual to see a competitor swagger into the ring attired in a hakama (that often looks like it was made from the curtains of a New Orleans bordello) with his sword thrust improperly through his obi (wide sash). In fact, the sword is often placed on the left side, which is incorrect.

When said wannabe swordsman draws the weapon, he grasps the handle and pulls it from the scabbard. This is wholly incorrect; the scabbard is actually “removed” from the sword with the left hand. Learning to do this requires a great deal of practice over an extended period of time.

And yes, there are good reasons for gripping the sword in this way initially. It's not a Louiseville Slugger (an old brand-name baseball bat) and gripping it in that fashion makes the wrist all but totally inflexible, which slows down both the draw and the initial cut. And that means that you'd likely lose your hand at the very least...

Two-handed cuts with the Japanese katana are made mainly with the left hand. Cutting with the right is a serious error that causes momentary loss of control of the weapon. And you can imagine what that means. Learning to execute the cuts with the left hand requires years of practice.

Akira Hino, a Japanese martial arts genius who I met in Japan in 2016, emphasizes the importance of numerous subtleties...like the proper use of the elbow when punching or striking. It's very subtle and once fully understood (which takes quite a while), much practice is required. He emphasizes that one of the great secrets to emitting tremendous power with what appear to be a “casual” punch or strike is proper use of the elbow. And at the age of 72, he happily demonstrates it.

Tatsuya Naka, one of the top instructors of the Japan Karate Association, who I met in 2016 in Japan, also speaks of small subtlties that enable him to suddenly drive out and strike an opponent with a lunging thrust. He never misses and top-ranked martial artists who have practiced with him say that they just can't see it coming. One of the vital keys is the proper use of the front knee and hip. Like Hino sensei's advice, it is difficult to understand and once understood, it requires extensive practice.

Hino sensei also speaks of the correct use of weight shifting for power as well as stability as well as the use of the shoulders (especially in the use of weapons). Trying to observe these subtleties by watching such men perform is useless. The small nuances of which they speak are so small that they're truly invisible. But they make all the difference in the world.

HEIHO

 by Phillip Starr

In so far as (Japanese) martial arts are concerned, the term “heiho” is translated as “strategy.” In Chinese, the characters for heiho (兵法) are pronounced, “bingfa.” Literally, it means (roughly) “art of war.”

There is, however, a distinction between strategy and tactics. Strategy is the overall, big picture; tactics are the means by which you achieve it. For instance, if you are suddenly confronted by some thug, you have several choices of response;

• You can run away.

• You can do something to cause him some pain and when he is sufficiently distracted, you can run.

• If you must engage him, you can grapple with him and pin him to the ground until you both decide to go steady or whatever...

• You can turn him into dogmeat.

These are strategies...the general, overall picture. If, for instance, you decide that you must turn him into dogfood, just HOW you're going to do that involves the use of tactics. And effective tactics always achieve maximum effects with minimum effort.

Really effective heiho is plotted out prior to engagement, rather like a game of chess – actually, the old Japanese game of “go” (which originated in China where it was/is known as “weiqi”) is a much better example. And it is applied not only to martial arts, but business dealings as well.

For instance, one young martial artist who was visiting another school was asked for a “lesson” by the instructor. This is an old but acceptably polite way of issuing a challenge. Recognizing the request for what it was, the young man accepted and when asked what type of weapon he wished to employ, he selected a staff.

He then informed the school's instructor that at his school, it was customary to begin seated in seiza and bow. The instructor complied, seating himself on the floor facing his intended victim. He placed his wooden sword (bokken) on the floor at his left side, where he could quickly bring it into action. The visitor held his staff vertically, which is common for those seated in seiza, armed with this weapon.

Courtesies were exchanged. Then the instructor advanced his left foot (which is normal) as he prepared to stand and adopt his fighting kamae (posture). The visitor raised the butt of his staff from the floor slightly and quickly slammed it down on his opponent's instep, causing him to grimace and gasp in pain. He then snapped the staff forward, striking the instructor on the forehead. Another squeak of pain. But he was a tough sucker and grabbed for his sword. Too late. The visitor was on his feet and easily knocked the bokken away, sending it skittering across the floor....and the predator found himself on his back with his intended victim holding the tip of his staff against his throat. The lesson was over.

Heiho.

Sun-Tzu's book, The Art of War, written around 512 BC, presents us with several fine ideas that can be readily used in single combat. For instance, he cautions against completely surrounding an enemy as this will cause the foe to fight with great ferocity, like a cornered tiger. Instead, he recommends that one should leave (what appears to be) an opening through which the enemy can escape. He'll make for this “hole” in our defenses and can then be ambushed by archers laying in wait, who will pick off his men easily.

When I visited Japan, one of the sites I saw was the Imperial Castle in which the Emperor is housed. Although outsiders cannot get inside the main walls, there's plenty to explore on the outside. As we walked into what appeared to be a small courtyard, my student (who was also my guide), Hiro, explained the setup to me. “The heavy wooden door to enter this area wasn't too difficult to break through”, he explained. “The enemy thought they had broken through, but this is just a small courtyard. That (he pointed to another large door) is almost impossible to break through...and up there (he pointed to a smaller building with slitted windows overlooking the little courtyard) were archers. They would pour arrows down onto the enemy. The doors through which they had come had been shut. They'd stepped into a terrible trap and would be slaughtered to the last man.

Apply these ideas to your sparring practice. Don't make your defensive posture impenetrable; leave an opening and allow the opponent to attempt to enter through it. Then bushwhack him. You are, in a very real sense, controlling what he does.

Heiho.

FOOTWORK

 by Phillip Starr

In a previous article, I wrote about the functions of stance. So you might ask, “Then what is footwork?” Footwork (known as “bufa” in Chinese) is what happens IN BETWEEN STANCES. And in the traditional martial arts, it doesn't involve bouncing around like a flea on amphetamines...

Different arts and styles of those arts utilize different forms of footwork. Some favor stepping heel-first, some (like baguazhang) emphasize that the whole sole of the foot comes down at once. Numerous Japanese martial disciplines utilize “suri-ashi” wherein the foot slides easily along the floor, as if a piece of thin paper is beneath it.

Akira Hino sensei, a martial arts researcher and genius, believes that suri-ashi is a relative modern creation because back when Japanese martial arts were being developed, training usually took place outdoors. Performing suri-ashi would have been not only very foolish, but extremely difficult as the ground might be rocky, muddy, covered in high grass, and so on. I have to agree with him. When most martial forms began practicing regularly in dojos with polished wooden floors, suri-ashi would be much easier to do. In Okinawa, where the ground is very rocky, it would have been really foolhardy to try it.

Regardless, all of these martial disciplines stress that the step(s) and body movements are to be made from the “hips” - the dantien (“tanden” in Japanese). Exactly how this is done is discussed and illustrated in my books, MARTIAL MECHANICS and MARTIAL STRUCTURE. This way of moving maintains stability while moving the whole body at once – as a unified whole. There is no other way to do it.

Bufa is used only when necessary; it is used to move inside your opponent's defense perimeter so that you can land an effective blow, to move outside of his reach or evade his attack, or to move into effective striking distance (for you). That's it. It isn't done just to be moving or to help reduce nervousness or the “jitters.” There are some who allege that bouncy movements make one a moving target that is difficult to hit. They're wrong and have clearly never had to engage a real opponent on the street. Most real self-defense occurs at very close range without any “squaring off” in a fighting stance. However, in any scuffle that begins at some distance, anyone who starts bouncing around is going to get turned into breakfast food (toast) very quickly.

Move with a purpose and if you're not far outside your opponent's reach (or, God forbid, within his reach), DON'T start bouncing around! Otherwise it'll be a very short skirmish. Your dentist may thank you for putting his kids through college, too...

Move with a purpose.