HOMEWORK

 by Phillip Starr

When many of us attend our martial arts class we are excited about the prospect of learning something new but we fail to realize that if we don't do our “homework”, our progress will be slowed considerably. If the instructor teaches something new, it will probably take up only a fraction of the time spent in class, which is mostly a review and polishing of material already learned. And during the time spent on review, the teacher can very readily assess just who has done his/her homework and how well.

The time we spend at home reviewing and honing material we've already learned needn't be as boring or sterile as the homework we had to do in school. I always looked at that as being about as interesting as watching paint dry. Doing your martial arts homework is a time for exploring, digging, and discovery. By taking the time to do it (and yes, that includes repetition of basic techniques and forms), you learn how to learn and this will be a critical skill when comes the day that your instructor is no longer readily available for class.

My gong-fu teacher knew perfectly well that improvement of techniques and forms could not be achieved if students practiced them only in class. He KNEW who had and hadn't been doing their homework and those who'd been skipping it were held back in their training. This often disappointed and even angered them, but sifu Chen knew that they simply hadn't yet developed the actual physical and/or mental skills necessary for moving forward. He said that they weren't truly serious about their training. And he was right.

Real skill isn't developed in class. It's developed outside of class. Some martial arts practitioners of arts such as judo, aikido, kendo, and other methods that involve training with a partner sometimes try to argue that it's pointless to try to train at home without a partner.

Nonsense. It's always possible to train “dry-run” (solo, without a partner) and doing so allows you to focus on pertinent aspects of your art, such as posture, footwork, breathing, correct placement of the hands and arms, and so on. When a partner is present, you often fail to really focus on these important points. Without a partner, there is no pressure on you to succeed in doing/finishing the technique. You can focus on more minute aspects of the art.

A good martial arts teacher won't “spoon feed” everything; he knows that many things mean so much more to you if and when you discover them for yourself. What he isn't showing you is as important as what he does teach openly. But you'll find these things if you do your homework!

HITTING THE MARK

 by Phillip Starr

In kyudo (Japanese archery; “the Way of the bow”) the object is quite dissimilar to that of Western archery. The beginning of archery in Japan is prehistoric. The first images picturing the distinct Japanese asymmetrical longbow are from the Yayoi period (ca. 500 BC – 300 AD). Although the familiar katana is associated with the samurai (and sometimes referred to as the “samurai sword”), the bow was the original weapon of the warrior class.

The changing of society and the military class (samurai) taking power at the end of the first millennium created a requirement for education in archery. This led to the birth of the first kyujutsu ryūha (style), the Henmi-ryū, founded by Henmi Kiyomitsu in the 12th century. The Takeda-ryū and the mounted archery school  of Ogasawara-ryū were later founded by his descendants. The need for archers grew dramatically during the Genpei War (1180–1185) and as a result the founder of the Ogasawara-ryū (Ogasawara Nagakiyo), began teaching yabusame (mounted archery).

From the 15th to the 16th century, Japan was ravaged by civil war. In the latter part of the 15th century Heki Danjō Masatsugu revolutionized archery with his new and accurate approach called hi, kan, chū (fly, pierce, center), and his footman's archery spread rapidly. Many new schools were formed, some of which, such as Heki-ryū Chikurin-ha, Heki-ryū Sekka-ha and Heki-ryū Insai-ha, remain today. During the Edo period (1603–1868) Japan was turned inward as a hierarchical caste society in which the samurai were at the top. There was an extended era of peace during which the samurai moved to administrative duty, although the traditional fighting skills were still esteemed. During this period archery became a "voluntary" skill, practiced partly in the court in ceremonial form, partly as different kinds of competition. Archery spread also outside the warrior class. The samurai were affected by the straightforward philosophy and aim for self-control in Zen Buddhism that was introduced by Chinese monks. Earlier archery had been called kyūjutsu (the skill of bow), but monks acting as martial arts teachers led to creation of a new concept: kyūdō (the Way of the bow).

Kyūdō practice, as in all budō, includes the idea of moral and spiritual development. Today many archers practise kyūdō as a sport, with marksmanship being paramount. However, the goal most devotees of kyūdō seek is seisha seichū, "correct shooting is correct hitting". In kyūdō the unique action of expansion (nobiai) that results in a natural release, is sought. When the technique of the shooting is correct the result is that the arrow hits the target. To give oneself completely to the shooting is the spiritual goal, achieved by perfection of both the spirit and shooting technique leading to munen musō, "no thoughts, no illusions". This however is not Zen, although the Japanese bow can be used in Zen-practice or kyūdō practised by a Zen master. In this respect, many kyūdō practitioners believe that competition, examination, and any opportunity that places the archer in this uncompromising situation is important, while other practitioners will avoid competitions or examinations of any kind.

Unlike Chinese, Korean, and Mongolian bows (which are rather short), the Japanese bow will run from 84” to 97” in length. When I visited Japan in 2016, I saw several young ladies dressed in kimono and carrying very long silk or cotton bags, which contained their bows. They would take the subway trains to their classes and nobody thought anything of it.

And unlike Western archery, the primary object of kyudo is not necessarily to hit the mark (“bull's eye”). It is an art steeped in ritual and every aspect of it is pregnant with meaning. Zen-like in its approach, the focus is on strengthening, forging, and tempering the spirit. Each movement (including the steps taken to the spot from which the archer will shoot, nocking the arrow, and virtually everything else) is perfected and polished for its own sake. It is said that when the mind is ready, the arrow will release itself. In time, accuracy comes naturally.

It is rather the same in all forms of budo. However, we Westerners tend to focus too much on hitting the mark rather than perfecting each tiny movement. In our forms, we often rush through to the end, thinking something like, “There! I finished that form.” But the truth is far different. We did not take time to gently polish each movement, to experience and “taste” it. We hurry, like a child in a candy store...filling our mouths with so many candies that we can scarcely taste any one of them. Each candy (and movement) must be savored...delicately at first. Like the arrow in kyudo, accuracy will come along naturally.

ESSENTIAL INGREDIENTS

 by Phillip Starr

What's the first thing you do when you set out to bake a cake? If you're like me (I know almost nothing about the subject...), you first determine just what ingredients you need. If you leave out only one item, God only knows what you'll end up producing but the odds are good that you wouldn't necessarily want to eat it! It's the same in the study of any given martial art. You need the right ingredients...

• DETERMINATION (Strong Spirit): This is of the utmost importance but one that is often left out of the recipe. Having a strong spirit means never giving up; it means overcoming any and all “obstacles” that appear, regardless of how insurmountable they seem.

  
  
  

• COURTESY: True courtesy comes from the heart. It is not simply a series of empty gestures or hollow words. Believe it or not, practicing genuine courtesy (at all times!) will impact your training.

  
  
  

• FAITH: Having faith in your teacher is essential. You must have faith in what he or she teaches. He's been where you're going.

  
  
  

• OBEDIENCE: You must adhere to the instruction given to you by your teacher, even if it involves discomfort or inconvenience.

  
  
  

• DISCIPLINE: You must train regularly (and bear in mind that 90% of your practice is done outside of class). If your training is “hit-or-miss” you're just spinning your wheels and getting nowhere. Worse, you're opening yourself up to injuries that will only further hamper your development. Maintain a strict discipline.

  
  
  

• AN OPEN MIND: You're going to be introduced to new ideas, customs, and attitudes. Don't approach your training with a closed mind. Keep it open so that you can fully absorb new information. Avoid harboring preconceived notions about any parts of your training.

  
  
  

• PATIENCE: This is perhaps the one ingredient that is most often missing in Western students. To learn and develop new skills takes time. There's no way around it and no short-cuts, regardless of what some hucksters will tell you. Trying to hurry often ends in injury, disappointment, and frustration.

  
  
  

Like baking a cake, if you use all of these ingredients you can produce a very delicious and beautiful cake. If you leave out any of them, the end result will be less than desirable.

A COMPLETE FIGHTING SYSTEM?

 By Phillip Starr

The next time you practice a given form, here's something to bear in mind...each (traditional) form is a complete fighting system in and of itself. That's what Master Seiyu Oyata (dec.) told me and it's true. This is perhaps why some Okinawan karate masters of days past primarily practiced only one kata. Certainly, they knew others but for their own personal daily training, they'd mainly practice only one. The famous Choki Motobu was known to practice the Naihanchi (in Japanese, Tekki) kata above all others.

I think that the fact that each form is a complete combative method is indicative that the various forms contain a considerable amount of information; much more than we often attribute to them. The key is to learn to “read between the lines” of the books (forms). And that requires a great deal of introspection and time. Just plodding your way through a form won't cut it. Each and every movement, as well as what appear to be “empty spaces” between the readily distinguishable techniques, must be studied carefully.

The meaning and application of numerous movements may very well change as you explore different rhythms/timings and once you find an application that you favor for a given action, remember that it isn't enough to simply know that it's there; you have to PRACTICE it over and over until you can apply it without having to think about it. This is what kata is for.

And remember that the Asian people are very pragmatic. There's no such thing as an “empty” movement; each and every movement is pregnant with meaning. They contain jewels that wait silently for you to dig them up.

A BOWL OF COLD RICE

 by Phillip Starr

For those who walk the martial path and encounter seemingly impossible obstacles, this one is for you. You need look no further for inspiration than the masters who walked the very same path before us. We follow their footsteps but we seldom appreciate the obstacles they overcame and in many cases, the sacrifices they made. They certainly paid their dues...

Gichin Funakoshi, the revered “Father of Japanese Karate” arrived in Japan in 1917 to give demonstrations of this unique Okinawan martial art and to perform before the imperial court. He did so without hesitation. He returned to his homeland and returned to Japan to give more demonstrations and to teach karate in 1922. Karate became so popular that Funakoshi began conducting classes at a local university (he would also live in the dormitory there). He would not see his beloved wife again until the end of WWII.

He had three sons, all of whom would precede him in death. The youngest son, Gigo, would become the senior assistant instructor of his father's classes. The first Shotokan dojo was constructed in 1939, during the time Japan was at war with China. Near the end of the war the dojo was destroyed and many of his most senior students were killed on the battlefield. His wife had remained in Shuri, Okinawa, and when she was evacuated from there in 1945 he was finally reunited with her. Gigo would also succumb to an illness he had developed in his youth, tuberculosis. Two years later, his wife would pass away. Although Japan was devastated by the war, Funakoshi rebuilt his dojo and continued to teach.

Masutatsu Oyama, the founder of Kyokushin karate, also endured great hardships. Traveling to Japan from his native Korea in 1937, he aspired to become a pilot. The only job he could find was that of driving a small delivery truck and he couldn't find an apartment because, according to his story, he was an unwanted Korean. He did finally manage to find living quarters (I can just imagine what THAT was like) and following the end of the war, he enrolled in Takushoku University and began studying karate under Master Funakoshi. But his hardships were far from over.

He got into a scuffle at a local tavern and inadvertently killed his assailant. It was strongly suggested that he leave Tokyo and go live in the mountains. He and a student did so but within a month or so, his partner returned to civilization. And Oyama's benefactor, an old friend who would bring food and supplies to the foot of the mountain, was no longer able to do so. Oyama was on his own. He often slept on the snow and foraged for food. Still, he trained every day...for nearly two years before finally returning to Tokyo where he would found his new style of karate.

Dr. Jigaro Kano, the founder of judo, founded the original Kodokan in 1882. It had only 12 mats. Training was quite vigorous and the floor was often in need of repair. With one or two of his students, Kano would crawl under the building nightly and make the necessary repairs. He would do this until he was able to open a 60-mat school in 1893.

The famed founder of aikido, Morihei Uyeshiba, started out attempting to run a print shop. But he was no businessman and the shop quickly went bankrupt. He joined up with a group of people that were being subsidized by the government to go to Hokkaido and settle (in a mountainous area, where it gets quite cold in the winter). Even so, he continued his daily practice of aikijutsu and kenjutsu, using small logs in place of a proper bokken.

In his youth, the famous master of all three internal forms of kung-fu (taijiquan, xingyiquan, and baguazhang), Sun-Lutang, was dirt poor...and when the Chinese tell us that someone was poor, you'd better believe they were POOR! He would collect pig bristles and sell them to people who made ink brushes...but business wasn't so good. I can just imagine how much fun it must have been to collect those bristles. In any event, he became so distraught that he finally tried to end it all by hanging himself. But as fortune would have it, a passerby cut him down...and Sun would go on to become one of the best known kung-fu teachers of all time.

The list is very long; most of the “greats” of times passed suffered terrible losses, endured hardships the would have caused lesser mortals to turn back, and made great sacrifices in their journeys. But one constant remains. Perseverance. Once they set foot on the martial path, they were there to stay. And stayed they did, no matter how insurmountable the obstacles they encountered.

“Eating cold rice” is a phrase used in the East to describe very hard times. Such men certainly ate their share of it, and many had to put away several servings. I can't imagine what it would have been like to live in the devastation of Japan or Okinawa following WWII or how horrible life must have been to be extremely poor in China 150 years ago...

If these men could endure it, can we do any less?

ZEN AND NOW

 by Phillip Starr

A great many modern martial artists, particularly those who are engaged in the practce of a Japanese martial forms such as karate, kendo, jujutsu, and a host of others, like to think of the swordsmen of old Japan sitting in meditation and being avid practitioners of zen. However, the truth is that the samurai were never, in large numbers, ardent followers of zen... and the connection between zen and the Japanese martial arts is, in truth, not much older than rock 'n roll.

Buddhism was introduced to China in the late 12^th century. While some of the earlier forms of it appealed to the aristocracy of Japan, others became more popular with the commoners. Zen was a monastic approach, centered in Kyoto and Kamakura, where the Shogun stayed. Because of his patronage, numerous temples were constructed and zen eventually prospered. The laity were generally better educated than most; they often served as advisors to the Shogun and leaders of the warrior class. For this reason, numerous historians have assumed that the samurai were attracted to zen and that when many samurai retired, they entered the priesthood. They have also surmised that because zen stresses self-discipline and a rather austere lifestyle (qualities also admired by the samurai), the professional warriors were devoted practitioners of zen. However, this is demonstrably incorrect, if you look at the circumstances of living in feudal Japan...

The rise of Japan's warrior class was marked by war; from the 10^th to the 17^th centuries, Japan was pretty much in a constant state of war. Professional warriors of the day lived knowing that they could well meet their demise in the next battle or even in the next hour. They simply didn't have the time to spend years sitting in meditation (which is what zen requires) to develop a spirit to deal with that. It wasn't a practical approach for the guys who wanted to see through the illusions of life right NOW. Certainly, they respected zen and often relied on its priesthood for education or advice but in their letters, scrolls, and densho (transmission scrolls of various martial arts schools), there are very few references to zen made by the warrior class.

So, in what form of spiritual or religious training did the samurai engage? To a large degree, the answer is “mikkyo.” Most of you are likely unfamiliar with it. Well, zen is an exoteric form of Buddhism, The same is true for most other sects such as Jodo and Shinshu. They don't necessarily involve any esoteric, arcane teachings that are imparted to their followers; their teachings are openly transmitted to anyone wishing to follow them This is true of almost all forms of Buddhism. One exception is mikkyo (aka., Shingon), which is probably the only esoteric form of Buddhism that has deep roots in Japan.

Mikkyo's approach (in a nutshell) to the problem of dealing with illusions of life is through various psychological and neurological exercises, many of which are thought to invoke supernatural powers. The mikkyo practitioner may utilize artistic designs (mandalas), various chants, or physical movements. The best known of these is “kuji-kiri” (meaning “finger cutting” or “finger weaving”) wherein various powers are thought to be invoked through the weaving of one's fingers together. In a rather crude way, they can be thought of as “spells.” On a more sophisticated level, they are rituals designed to instill great courage and confidence, and presence of mind when danger threatens. It's easy to see why the samurai would embrace this method; it can be done in a short time (unlike zen) and was immediately available.

So, why is it that so many of us believe that the traditional martial arts were closely connected to zen? Well, Yagyu Munenori (1571-1646), who was the second headmaster of the Yagyu Shinkage-ryu school of swordsmanship, was a friend and disciple of the well-known Buddhist priest, Takuan Soho. Takuan wrote several letters to Yagyu, using the analogy of martial strategy and swordsmanship to explain zen. So, did the famous “sword saint”, Miyamoto Musashi ever meet Takuan? Yes...in a fictional serialized novel that was finally made into a movie. In reality, the two probably never met.

Because of Yagyu's relationship with the Shogun, Takuan's letters to Munenori were quite influential and read by many daimyo (feudal lords). However, almost none of them actually practiced zen. After WWII, zen was introduced to the West in a big way and the supposed connection between Japan's martial arts and zen were further cemented in the public's imagination. The famous scholar, Daisetsu Suzuki (who had never practiced martial arts) wrote his very successful “Zen and Japanese Culture”, which devoted two long chapters to zen and swordsmanship.

Eugene Herrigel, a German who had briefly studied kyudo in Japan in the 1930's penned his successful book, “Zen and the Art of Archery.” Both Herrigel's and Suzuki's books used the medium of zen to try to explain the budo. All that has been written since then (on the zen-martial arts connection) is based upon these two books and/or Takuan's writings.

Of course, if a modern follower of the budo wishes to link his art to the practice of zen, that's fine. But it's good to know the historicity of it so that one can maintain the true, original spirit of these arts. Now you know the rest of the story-