I have always said that in order to learn, you first have to have a reason. Without a context that directly relates to the person on a life-application level, the lesson is nothing more than mental masterbation. When I first started MA, I was in high school. I took up arts that meant the most to me to survive the typical high school fights. When I started BBT, I was moving into a career in law enforcement. I pursued my study of jujutsu and weapons as they related to what I would do or experience on the job. When I was in the military, I learned arts/skill sets that had to do with the brutal "kill or be killed" environment of being a soldier. Now, I train for personal peace, protection of family/friends, etc. During all those stages, being "good" meant being able to apply those skills in a manner that brought the results I wanted to attain. So, I never lost a school fight, I took down suspects, defended myself and others against a variety of real danger, used my skills to help train cops and soldiers and, now that those parts of my life are over, finding the physical benefits of my training help to bring a kind of inner peace and confidence that I can protect my loved ones if I needed to.
Thankfully, I've never had to experience war firsthand (only in training) and never had to take a life, ever. But, I knew I had the training to do so if I had to and accepted the reality that my occupations could put me in situations that required me to take a life. So, I trained for it with the mindset that it was for real.
I believe most people live sedentary, relatively safe lives - which is a great blessing. It also can be a danger as people can be numb to danger and prone to ambush. You can be "good" in the dojo, but when you leave you go back to your life of routines, schedules, obligations, etc. Without a direct application to something outside the dojo, I feel as if most of what we train on stays in the dojo. Think about it. Do you ever find yourself moving better only when you put on your keiko gi and walk onto the mat? Do you feel you are more in your element, as far as budo training goes, when you wear the funny, black PJ's and get among your budo buddies? Is that when you would say you are "good"?
I think this is where the clash of practical vs fantasy comes into play. Let's face it, we are all nerds on some level. Most of us got into BBT because of the silly ninja stuff, especially those of us who started back in the 80's when that fantasy dominated the martial arts world. But, it really is a clash of two worlds. People laugh at silly ninjas playing in the park. So, at some point, we have to grow up about martial arts. But, even with that, we have to find practical application to our day to day reality or we are continuing the fantasy.
So, when you look at qualifiers like being "good", you should also consider how it affects your day to day life and measure the positive with the negative, or no effect at all. What "good" is budo training when you simply leave it in the dojo?
Train hard, train smart, live happy!
Friday, October 8, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
Reality vs budo training
I haven't written much in a while because, well, things have just been too busy. My training always takes priority over the 'net, so what free time I have I devote to my training.
Lately, I have seen growing discord between many different factions within the Bujinkan. As we all should be trying to study Soke's budo, we cannot help but be overwhelmed by just how incredibly confusing this is. Soke no longer teaches the raw fundamentals we are supposed to be training on. In fact, Soke rarely teaches any techniques. He talks in principles, philosophies and often times contradictions. That's not to say he isn't a true master, someone who we all should be looking to for guidance and inspiration. And, if we study and train long enough, eventually what appears to be confusing, contradicting messages from Soke start to make sense. We get a glimpse of something that strikes at the heart of our selves and our training. It's those moments that we all strive for because they empower us and give us insights that we need.
However, a major area of contention among my Bujinkan brothers and sisters is how we are supposed to follow Soke's teaching, especially in the areas of "no technique", being "zero", moving with relaxed flow, and so on - and still build and maintain a strong foundation of real combat skills. One side will argue that Soke and the Japanese Shihan have all experienced the raw, physically challenging aspects of the "old school" methods and that's why they can move so beautifully, with relaxed flow and gentleness, while still controlling their partner perfectly. The other side holds firm to the idea that they went through all of that hard training to learn you don't 'need' to do it in order to move the way they do now. They did it so we don't have to. They've made the mistakes and now teach us the correct way to bypass the long road for the direct.
In my own training, I seek to find a balance. I love to train in the deeper, more refined aspects of what my sempai, sensei and Soke teach. But, I also believe I need the conditioning and raw physical skills to be able to survive real danger. So, I gently take my uke's balance and throw him with little touch, yet next I will spend time breaking a sweat by pounding on the heavy bag. I will strike my uke as he flies over me, knocking him into strange body positions that make it difficult for him to land safely, challenging his ability to adapt. I will play with the spaces around my uke, causing his balance to change and opening up the next "safe space" for me to occupy so that he is always off balance. But, then I also believe those shots that happen during that space in time have the teeth behind them to really affect my uke.
At the same time, I also want to continue to develop my body to take the impact of hitting something that's solid. In addition, my own body needs to experience being hit, thrown, locked up and such so that I also build my adaptibility.
Then, there's the argument of whether or not to spar or use "aliveness" when training, to have your partner try to resist, counter and otherwise not be a "cooperative uke" (within safe reason).
I don't know what the answers are. I only know what my teachers teach me. I also know from my own experience what real danger is like - and what it does to somebody physically, mentally and spiritually. One has to train equally in all three of these areas to develop the adaptive ability to survive.
This, to me, is what the true meaning of Sanshin is.
How it applies to your own training, you have to decide. Just keep the balance right.
Lately, I have seen growing discord between many different factions within the Bujinkan. As we all should be trying to study Soke's budo, we cannot help but be overwhelmed by just how incredibly confusing this is. Soke no longer teaches the raw fundamentals we are supposed to be training on. In fact, Soke rarely teaches any techniques. He talks in principles, philosophies and often times contradictions. That's not to say he isn't a true master, someone who we all should be looking to for guidance and inspiration. And, if we study and train long enough, eventually what appears to be confusing, contradicting messages from Soke start to make sense. We get a glimpse of something that strikes at the heart of our selves and our training. It's those moments that we all strive for because they empower us and give us insights that we need.
However, a major area of contention among my Bujinkan brothers and sisters is how we are supposed to follow Soke's teaching, especially in the areas of "no technique", being "zero", moving with relaxed flow, and so on - and still build and maintain a strong foundation of real combat skills. One side will argue that Soke and the Japanese Shihan have all experienced the raw, physically challenging aspects of the "old school" methods and that's why they can move so beautifully, with relaxed flow and gentleness, while still controlling their partner perfectly. The other side holds firm to the idea that they went through all of that hard training to learn you don't 'need' to do it in order to move the way they do now. They did it so we don't have to. They've made the mistakes and now teach us the correct way to bypass the long road for the direct.
In my own training, I seek to find a balance. I love to train in the deeper, more refined aspects of what my sempai, sensei and Soke teach. But, I also believe I need the conditioning and raw physical skills to be able to survive real danger. So, I gently take my uke's balance and throw him with little touch, yet next I will spend time breaking a sweat by pounding on the heavy bag. I will strike my uke as he flies over me, knocking him into strange body positions that make it difficult for him to land safely, challenging his ability to adapt. I will play with the spaces around my uke, causing his balance to change and opening up the next "safe space" for me to occupy so that he is always off balance. But, then I also believe those shots that happen during that space in time have the teeth behind them to really affect my uke.
At the same time, I also want to continue to develop my body to take the impact of hitting something that's solid. In addition, my own body needs to experience being hit, thrown, locked up and such so that I also build my adaptibility.
Then, there's the argument of whether or not to spar or use "aliveness" when training, to have your partner try to resist, counter and otherwise not be a "cooperative uke" (within safe reason).
I don't know what the answers are. I only know what my teachers teach me. I also know from my own experience what real danger is like - and what it does to somebody physically, mentally and spiritually. One has to train equally in all three of these areas to develop the adaptive ability to survive.
This, to me, is what the true meaning of Sanshin is.
How it applies to your own training, you have to decide. Just keep the balance right.
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