SPIRIT OR TECHNIQUE?

 By Phillip Starr

I have been asked by a number of martial arts students as well as instructors if spirit or technique is the most important thing to learn and develop. The answer isn't so simple as to allow me to answer with a single word.

Certainly, technique is essential and it must be learned correctly and thoroughly, so that one doesn't have to “think” about when or how to do it. Like a sword, it must be strong, kept sharp, and polished.

But what about spirit? I say that it is the glue that holds one together when the chips are down. Like Sylvester Stallone told us in his movie, “Rocky”, “It's not about how hard you can hit; it's about how many hits you can take and keep moving forward.” That's a fine expression of what we mean by “spirit.”

So, both spirit and technique are essential. Many moons ago, a young boy of 8 or 9 was taking out the garbage (one of his usual chores) when he was accosted by three slightly older boys who had been bullying him in school. The largest of the group called him a few unseemly names and began pushing him.

Unbeknownst to the aggressor, the skinny little lad had been practicing judo. Thinking that his grappling skills would enable him to overcome the bigger boy, the youngster tried to get hold of his opponent but his reward was something less than what he expected; he was knocked to the ground.

Scrambling to his feet, he tried two more times to take hold of his stronger adversary, only to be knocked down again and again. After being dropped a third time, he stood up again only to have the bigger boy push him away and say, “That's enough. I beat you...” But the bully was taken aback when one of his friends told him, “No, you didn't! That little guy keeps getting back up!” Fortunately, the bully simply shrugged off his friend's remark and walked away. And the smaller, skinny boy (who was me) stood there in confusion. I guess I had spirit enough but as my instructor told me with a smile, “Your technique needs some work.”

So, both spirit and technique are essential. Spirit without technique cannot truly be expressed. Technique without spirit is about as useful (combatively) as square dancing, Strive to develop both.

QI-KU AND TRADITIONAL TRAINING

 by Phillip Starr

In the practice of contemporary martial arts there is a tendency for instructors and students to shy away from any training routine that involves the possibility of much discomfort or injury.  This is only natural. As human beings we usually don't usually flock to engage in activities that are inherently painful or risky and we tend to take a hard look at those "weirdos" who do.

     I recall watching a group of students practice one-step fighting in a certain martial arts school some years ago.  The attacker would step back into the usual pre-attack position, executing a snappy low block as he did so.  When the receiver was ready to perform his defensive maneuver he would utter a strong kiai and the attacker would execute a powerful lunging thrust.  The receiver would step back, block the attack, and deliver a crisp counter-attack.

     Sound familiar?  Sure, it does.  It's the usual one-step fighting drill that every student of karate and taekwondo has practiced hundreds and thousand of times, except for one thing...the participants were standing at least eight feet apart.  When the receiver executed his blocking technique he never even touched the aggressor's arm!   And when he counter-punched, his fist was at least four feet away from the attacker's body!

     Naturally, I asked the instructor why the students didn't touch each other at all during this common training exercise.  He told me that he didn't want them to bruise their arms or risk striking each other if their blows weren't adequately controlled.

     Good Lord. Well, these folks will be in great shape if they're ever attacked by a strong gust of wind.

      Now, don't get me wrong.  I certainly don't advocate uncontrolled violence as a training tool.  I remember visiting another martial arts school whose members engaged in full-contact sparring within two weeks of enrollment!  The neophytes, who had no real knowledge of martial arts technique, were thrown to the lions (the more experienced students) like so much raw meat.  To say they got the stuffing pounded out of them would be a serious understatement.  The instructor reasoned that if one wanted to become skilled at fighting one had to know what it is like to get hit.  Students were told that they had to learn to keep going even if they'd been struck very forcefully because this is what "real combat is like."

     Good thing they didn't teach swordsmanship.

     Certainly, I believe that students need to develop strong technique and a strong spirit through rigorous training.  I believe that real martial arts technique and spirit cannot be understood or developed except through the application of controlled violence. The operative word in that sentence is controlled.

     Beginning students are unable to understand this concept and it has to be presented to them very gradually.  But as they grow and develop their skills, they must learn to accept this fact and train accordingly.  Violence is, after all, why the martial arts were originally developed.  They were not cultivated to help their followers discover their "inner child", as a panacea for various ailments, or for thrilling audiences.

     I once told my students that they would learn much more from pain and discomfort than they ever would from sheltered contentment.  In traditional Japanese martial arts there is a term describing this type of practice.  It is nangyo (in Chinese, nanhang).  It refers to hardship (nan) and a road which is traveled by many people, perhaps a crossroads.  This is an accepted part of the traditional martial ways; a necessary ingredient for the development of true skill and understanding.  The Chinese usually refer to this particular aspect of training as qi-ku (吃苦), which means, "eat bitter".

     In contrast to the aforementioned karate school wherein participants never touched each other, the former head of the Japan Karate Association, Master Masatoshi Nakayama, recalled that when he was training under Master Gichin Funakoshi during his college years, his arms would be so sore and bruised from blocking his partner's attacks that he could hardly lift them.  Another kendo master spoke of being struck so hard on the front of his helmet (men) that it knocked him to his knees and splintered his partner's shinai (bamboo practice sword).

     Students of the legendary Morihei Uyeshiba (founder of aikido) recalled how his vise-like grip would leave bruises on their wrists and Americans who trained in judo under the revered Kyuzo Mifune spoke of being thrown so hard that they were rendered unconscious.  My own teacher, Master W. C. Chen, remembered seeing exhausted classmates run out of the drill line, and vomit.

     Some of these things would be considered a tad excessive by today's standards but it gives you an idea of what traditional training was like back in the day.  It was not done because the instructor was a sadistic brute who wanted to puff out his machismo for all the world to see (although such instructors, if that term can be applied to them, have always existed).  The instructor's first and only concern was for the students, to help them develop real skill as opposed to something that only looks good but has no real internal substance.

     In time, students develop a strong sense of self-confidence.  They don't fear being attacked because that happens every night that they attend class.  Some years ago one of my students was forced to defend himself against an angered thug who was wielding a baseball bat.  When he told me about it he smiled and said, "I wasn't really afraid of the guy at all.  Heck, I get punched at by professionals at least three times a week in the training hall!"

     For the teachers of the traditional budo ("martial ways"; in Chinese, wu-dao) it's a delicate balance; how can we push the students and keep the violence under control?  Naturally, no competent teacher wants to see a student get hurt but some minor injuries are unavoidable and should be expected.  Anyone who's spent much time in the martial arts has had his or her fair share of split lips, strawberries, bruises, and the like.  Some have even broken a small bone or two.  It happens; it's simply the nature of the beast. Minor injuries are very common and should be expected! They are simply a part of the developmental processes of the budo.  Having said that, I must also emphasize that it is the responsibility of the instructor and senior students to do their best to ensure that the violence never escalates beyond a certain level.

     As a student's skill increases, the attacks he faces in the training hall must become more and more realistic, That is, if he fails to perform his defensive maneuver correctly he may well be knocked on his tail. At the same time, students must (gradually) learn that a bloody lip isn't the end of the world and it's still possible to continue training even after getting smacked in the ribs. 

Qi-ku.

KENDO’S HACHIDAN

by Phillip Starr

Quite a while back, I sent out a Youtube clip which featured two separate Japanese kendo (fencing) instructors, both of whom were striving to achieve the coveted hachidan (8th grade black belt, the highest grade in kendo as well as iaido) in their particular art. It’s a long clip, following the stories of both instructors – but it is really a great inspiration as well.

The national test for hachidan in Japan is extremely demanding and is broken into three phases. It is said that over 90% of the applicants are washed out during the first phase. Of the more than 700 kendoists who entered the test, only something like 140 made it through the first phase.

The second phase washes out many more and the third phase, which consists of a written exam, weeds out the few finalists. In the end, only something like 10 or less applicants passed the final part of the test.

The older of the two was a Mr. Miyamoto, age 73. This was his 24th attempt at passing the test. He said that if, for some reason, he should fail to make the grade this time, he’d return the next year and try yet again!

The other applicant was only 48 years old and had taken the test only something like a half-dozen times. Like Miyamoto, he said that if he failed the test this year he’d be back next year…

I think what impressed me the most was the spirit that both men displayed; the thought of giving up and throwing in the towel never crossed their minds. You’d think that a man who is 73 years old would just shake his head and forget about it…but not Mr. Miyamoto. He had a dream and he wasn’t about to give up on it. He was determined to keep trying until he succeeded.

He also firmly believed that as long as a martial arts practitioner kept training regularly, he/she would continue to improve. This is a very different view than that often heard in the west where we’re told that after a certain age we should relax and “take it easy.”

And bear in mind that Miyamoto had failed the test TWENTY-THREE TIMES PREVIOUSLY!!! He was a very highly skilled kendo practitioner, but he apparently just had the bad luck to be paired with others who were slightly better…or whatever. The point is that he never gave up…even after failing the exam every year for 23 years straight!

I recall a beginning student I had some years back. He was a very nice fellow, very amiable and he trained hard. But…he didn’t like to practice forms and because of that, he didn’t practice them at home – which is absolutely essential for anyone who desires to develop real skill.

When test time rolled around he was determined to take the exam along with his classmates. I warned him that I thought he needed more work (actually a LOT more work) on his basic form, but he was insistent on testing with his comrades. And he did.

And I failed him. His form was terrible. Actually, it was about five klicks below that. And he looked at me and said, “If I don’t pass, I’ll quit.”

And that’s a really bad thing to say to any teacher. Ever. So I told him to do whatever he felt he needed to do, but he wasn’t passing the test.

So he quit. And never came back (which was probably a good idea).

If nothing else, he left me with a valuable story to tell my students; that his is a perfect example of what NOT to be. Mr. Miyamoto is on one end of the spectrum and this student is on the other.

It’s not just about passing or failing tests, you see. It’s about spirit – perseverance, dedication, and belief in oneself. Like Gen. George Patton said, “Success is how high you bounce when you hit bottom.”

IT'S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY

 by Phillip Starr

Ask any martial arts instructor how often he or she has been approached by potential students who want to get fit, increase flexibility, lose weight, develop effective self-defense skills, etc. ad nauseum, and I can assure you that the aforementioned instructor won't be able to count the number. And how many of these students actually reach their somewhat intangible goals? I mean, after all, what does "get fit" mean, exactly? What do you mean when you say that you want to increase your flexibility? Do you want to be able to touch your toes or go into the full splits, or what? The fact is that most people who have these kinds of aspirations really don't know exactly what they want; they just have a kind of vague notion.

And how often does a student, who, for instance, wants to increase his or her flexibility say something like, "I just can't get very flexible! I come to class three (or whatever) times every week and go through the stretching exercises before class but I'm just not getting anywhere." This student, without really being aware of it, is laying the responsibility for achieving his/her goals in the instructor's lap. This is not only unfair; it isn't going to work! Your instructor cannot make you lose weight, cannot make you stronger, cannot increase your flexibility, and cannot make you develop self-defense skills.

He/She can show you how to do it but he/she can't possibly do it for you. That part of the equation is strictly up to you.

Consider: the pre-class calisthenics and stretching exercises are a warm up! Your teacher has you begin class with these routines to warm up your muscles and joints so that you are less likely to injure yourself during training...they will NOT increase flexibility, strength, or stamina! Why? Because you don't do them long enough or frequently enough for them have any long-term benefits.

BUT...once you've gone through them enough times you should be able to remember them and then you can practice them at home! And therein lies the key to reaching any of your goals in martial arts - you simply HAVE to practice outside of the training hall. If you don't, you're just spinning your tires.

If you want to lose weight you need to make adjustments to your whole lifestyle - you need to change your diet and eating habits as well as plan out regular (as in daily) workout routines that'll burn fat. Simply attending class won't do it.

If you want to increase your flexibility you need to set up regular stretching workouts to do at home - because you cannot possibly put in enough time in the training hall to reach your goals.

If you want to be a better martial arts practitioner you need to practice regularly at home. Period.

You must take responsibility for yourself; for your progress and achieving your goals. If you have trouble reaching them, there's only one person at whom you can point your finger and say, "It's your fault." And that person is in your bathroom mirror.

IS FLEXIBILITY THAT IMPORTANT?

 By Phillip Starr

More than once (or a hundred, or maybe a thousand) times I've heard various martial art students and instructors ask, “Why is flexibility important? In my art/style. We don't do any fancy high kicks, so why would we need to practice vigorous stretching exercises? Just a few warm-up routines is more than enough...” And they're dead wrong. They're looking at what seems to be the obvious and probably because they don't personally like to engage in stretching exercises, they grasp the first straw. And they completely miss the point.

Flexibility is, in my opinion, an essential part of any martial art training regimen. However, stretching exercises should be practiced at least every other day instead of just once or twice a week (or month). It works much like weight lifting; you can't do it just once a week and expect to see any results. What you CAN expect are injuries from time to time. If you want to increase your strength – or, in this case, flexibility – you must do it at least every other day. Each practice session needn't take a terribly long time. What is required is regularity and progression.

Stretching shouldn't be terribly uncomfortable or forceful. It is gentle and perhaps mildly uncomfortable (and no forceful bouncing). You must learn to RELAX when you do it. Circulation is improved when you stretch, which will contribute to better health and helps slow the aging process. The Chinese say that “long muscles mean long life.”

Regardless of whether or not you practice high kicks, increasing flexibility in the legs and hips will do much for improving the speed and accuracy of your kicking techniques as well as cultivating smooth, easy, and nimble footwork. Increasing flexibility in the waist and upper body will go a long ways towards upgrading your punches, too. And regular practice of stretching exercises will help prevent unnecessary injuries in your martial arts training.

One of the things that contributes to what we call the “aging process” is a lack of flexibility. As we age our muscles tend to become less flexible and the effects are readily apparent, affecting everything we do. This needn't happen. Although aging will certainly reduce flexibility to some degree, we can keep the wolf at bay by routinely engaging in a round of stretching exercises.

Now, I'm not going to provide a detailed explanation of how to practice various exercises; many, many fine books have already been written on the subject. But I know some of you will want to know how long you should allow for your stretching regimens. I recommend at least 30 minutes each time (you may wish to practice a bit longer). I lived in China and there were no nice training halls in which to practice. There was no practice equipment, either; one just had to “make do” with whatever was at hand. Each time I practiced at the park, I began with some basic warm-ups and then a round of stretching, which would last for at least a half an hour.

I remember seeing co-workers who were in their mid-60's and beyond whose overall physical condition was abysmal. They maintained just enough flexibility to walk and that was about it; they regarded stretching routines as something for the younger generation. And it showed. I determined that I would never end up like that and at age 74, I can, without prior warming up, bend over and place the backs of my hands on the ground (it's a hair more difficult than placing the palms on the ground).

Yes, there are some exercises that I can no longer do as well as I did in my younger years but that doesn't deter me from continuing to try. And that's part of the secret...the TRYING, and being gentle with yourself. If you don't try; if you give up, then you're sliding down that nasty slope known as “aging.” Never give up the struggle! You're never too old to improve!

INTO THE LIMELIGHT?

 By Phillip Starr

Some years ago when I became very concerned with the survival of traditional martial disciplines, I sent out a letter to the instructors of the various traditional martial arts schools in my city. I suggested that we meet over coffee (and maybe DOUGHNUTS!) to discuss how we might best bring our chosen arts back into the limelight. And although it's been much too long for me to remember my exact words, they went something like this...

“...We all complain about the “modern, sportified” versions of our martial arts that have taken the stage. With their diving punches (and taps on the head), to their homemade, eclectic forms that include gymnastic maneuvers, kiais that sound like a cat being beaten with a trash can lid, and techniques that are all flash and no substance, they have thrilled audiences and convinced many people that this is the stuff that martial arts are made of. They twirl their weapons like batons, toss their swords into the air, and otherwise demonstrate a massive amount of bravado (but no real skill) while we stand in the shadows, puffing out our chests and say, “Look at that silliness! I'm sure glad that I practice an authentic martial art!” And therein lies a big part of the problem.

To begin with, WE allowed these kinds of performances into our competitions. Trying to be “politically correct”, give everyone a fair chance, and not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings, WE let things slide, inch by inch. And those inches started adding up. If someone performed a flying side kick at the end of a basic karate form (such as Heian Nidan) and the competitor insisted that his instructor had taught him to do it that way, we let it go and judged him on “level of difficulty.” Before long, participants began making up their own forms!

And who was to say what a correct reverse punch or roundhouse kick was? This became even more apparent with the advent of padded gloves and footgear; fighters began using boxing punches and any kind of kick would suffice. If you could simply “touch” the other guy with your glove, you'd score a point...regardless of “correctness” of technique!

And we stayed in the shadows and watched. We watched as competitors entered Weapons Forms competition with all kinds of bizarre “martial arts weapons” - from meat hooks to tomahawks, Bowie knives, and 3-inch thick staffs with colored flags attached to the ends. And we chuckled as we stood ramrod straight, secure within our time-honored traditions.

We forgot, or perhaps never considered, that the audiences see only what is in the limelight. They don't look into the sidelines or shadows. They were being told that what stood in the limelight was the real thing and because they simply didn't know any better, they believed it! And those were/are the people to whom they flocked to enroll in classes while we wondered what had happened?”

The Japanese got it right in so far as tournaments are concerned. For freestyle sparring, only traditional technique is acceptable and in order for it to be accepted as a point (or half-point), it must meet very strict criteria. There are no flip-kicks, diving punches, or taps on the head. For forms competition, competitors are permitted to perform only certain traditional forms. The officials are more than a little familiar with all of them. We would have done well to follow their lead.

I remember back in the days of the USKA (United States Karate Assoc.) tournaments. It was not unusual for a competitor to have to provide the name of his form in both English and its native language, and at the conclusion of the set, officials would sometimes call competitors to the front and ask questions about the form.

Many years ago, my kung-fu uncle, Ming Lum, gave me an idea. Once a month, he'd host a meeting of the traditional martial arts teachers in his area (San Francisco). They'd have tea or coffee with some doughnuts or other Chinese pastries and just talk. Ming said he never directed their conversations; he'd just listen to everyone talk about their families, work, weather... but it all eventually got down to the same thing; martial arts. And that's where he'd jump in. They all made sure that their events didn't step on each other's timelines, and so on. Ming said this was a good idea because it kept the lines of communication open and prevented hard feelings from developing.

I used his idea in putting together meetings of traditional instructors in my area and we organized large public demonstrations of REAL martial arts. We stepped out of the shadows and back into the limelight to show people the differences between what they might have seen via Hollywood or open tournaments and the traditional, authentic disciplines. I think this approach is a good start. What do you think?