Monday, December 31, 2012

2013 - Reflections & Thoughts for a New Year

Grab some tea or coffee and sit back.  This is a long one.  I struggled with so many thoughts and what to write that I finally just decided to throw it all out there.  So, here it goes...

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Wow, another year has gone by.  I am still trying to wrap my head around it.  As I get older, time seems to be on an ever increasing pace.  Or maybe my fuzzy brain misses more and more of it!  Regardless, 2012 for me was a year filled to the brim with life events, both good and, well, maybe not quite so good.  I imagine it was for you, too.  Change was always an ever present condition, both on a personal level and with my budo path.  As with all change, there is always struggle.  The ryuuko hikan relationship between Dragon and Tiger was very significant, as I wrestled with the balance between vision and application.  In doing so, I learned a great deal about myself, martial arts and of life itself.  In fact, of all the greatest lessons that revealed itself to me, the value of simplicity became the finality of it all.

I don't mean simplicity as in stripping away everything, although that certainly played a major role in application.  By simplicity, I mean getting back to the basics, to what is really important, the root of it all, the source of everything, and the foundation.  The 2011 Bujinkan theme was Kihon Happo, which is the base or foundation for our budo taijutsu.  The theme for 2012 was kaname, or the pivoting point (or key point), that point where everything hinges, where you can choose freely to go any direction (among other meanings).  When I take these two themes and put them together, I find that by returning to the foundation, stripping away the complexities and "stuff", we arrive at a point where we can be free.  But, that doesn't mean to just give up those things in life.  You can't be a hermit, to isolate yourself from life, and expect to have a healthy life, mentally, emotionally and physically.  You have to interact with life at some point, to go to work, spend time with family and friends, and live (as an action).  At the same time, you can't be a busy-body, working all the time, running around from place to place, trying to do everything on your "honey-do list", and so on, or you run the risk of stress related health problems.  There is a pace to life, a balance that fulfills the *needs* of living productively, while fulfilling the *needs* of living healthy.

In our budo taijutsu, we have a vast array of techniques.  We have nine schools (ryuha) to play with, although not a lot has been taught by Soke that comes from several of these.  Regardless, between the majority of ryuha that are more commonly taught in the Bujinkan, the library of techniques number in the hundreds and their subject matters cover just about everything.  For some, the pursuit of these waza, or forms, is the inspiration.  For others, it isn't.  The argument is continuous and sometimes highly charged - whether you *need* to master these techniques in order to move the way Soke moves, or the pursuit of the underlying principles of movement that tie all these techniques together, letting go of the *need* to master them.

I will be open and honest and admit to falling on one side and the other of the debate.  I see the value of both sides.  The struggle between the two perspectives has produced frustration in my own understanding.  I am an advocate of hard, physical training and believe you *need* to build strong mechanics that will keep you alive in real danger.  But, I also believe that you can become trapped in the world of techniques so much that you don't move freely.  Your mind is always trying to find and command the body to do specific techniques, which limit free and adaptive responses.  Then, there's the pluses and minuses of what others call pressure testing, or aliveness, or even sparring.

When I watch our Soke move, I see a dance.  I see a performance.  I see very little in the way of teaching, as in direct, step by step communication.  What I do see is possibilities, as in what possibilities can exist in the moment when technique isn't the focus, but movement is.  Soke is always cheating the distances, angles and timing.  I see it happen even before the uke (attacker) launches his strike.  Soke is already changing, so that the uke is trying to adjust, not in the middle of the attack, but right at the very beginning.  Most often, Soke doesn't take a strong kamae (posture or position) as in any of our typical body 'stances'.  He appears quite vulnerable.  I find this interesting on many levels.  In what we see as 'classical' kata, like Ichimonji no Kata, for instance, both uke and tori are standing in a strong posture.  I don't know about you, but having an opponent face me in a strong posture is not something that invites an attack from me.  I would want to try and create an opportunity, either through combination moves (the setup, then the main attack) or to draw them into attacking so that I can exploit the opening their attack creates (there is always an opening during an attack, whether theirs - or yours).  Either way, it would be tactically stupid to launch an attack against an opponent's strong position, unless you were convinced you could overwhelm their position.  But, that is a risky and potentially costly tactic (just think of the hundreds of thousands of soldiers in the Somme during WW1, who continued to charge back and forth at each others entrenched lines, only to be mowed down by machine guns).

So, why do so many train this way?

On the flip side, I see many who try to replicate moving the way Soke moves.  I see them stand there in front of the uke.  Uke takes an attack posture and the tori still stands there, sometimes even back on their heels.  What is even more interesting is how uke takes an attack posture.  Most people step back and raise their hands (i.e. Ichimonji no Kamae, for instance).  Then, they step forward in a whole body lunge punch to a tori who is still just standing there.  But, why not just stand there?  There has been no threat or *need* to move.  The 'attacker' stepped back and now has to move his body a country mile to propel his fist across the distance to get to the tori.  The tori could take a nap in that time!  The danger is only psychological, not physical, until that attack gets within a certain space.  The more experience the tori has, that space can be smaller and smaller.  For instance, a new student may already be moving back and away or responding in some way even before the attack reaches the midway point.  That's fear-based instinctual response, a natural reaction that is hardwired into our minds that perceives danger differently than the actual danger.

I believe that is why we first learn waza from such a long distance and why the first level of striking is done moving the entire body as one unit.  This false perception of danger needs to be dealt with first.  By having greater distance, we have time to control this perception, to 'see' the actual danger and resist the temptation to move ahead of time (the uke can adjust and still get you).  Also, it is common for a fear-response to narrow perception and alter our judgement of distance and timing.  By having the uke move their entire body forward in time with the strike, our mind can comprehend or perceive the action more clearly.

So, for early training, especially those with little to no experience at martial arts, this kind of training has value.  But, the value is really to get the student to relax, to let go of their fear of danger (or at least the control it has on them) and to start to differentiate the perceived danger from the actual danger.  This is why I consider the first three kyu ranks to be all about Ukemi, or how to receive the training.  It isn't necessarily about breakfalls and rolling, but about perception.

However, at some point, the student has to progress past this level and get to something more real.  They can't simply keep repeating the same level of training over and over.  There has to be an evolution, a progression, where ranges become shorter, timings become faster, and attacks become more effective or real.  In all my years of occupations that dealt with real violence, I never saw anybody attack with a step through, whole body, lunge style punch.  Never.  If they were so effective, boxers would have been doing that for hundreds of years.  At some point, if you want to test your technique, you *need* to have someone attack you in a manner that is more likely to happen - a cross punch, jab and cross, or grab and cross punch, or maybe an uppercut, body blow, or shift and punch, or maybe a wide roundhouse, backfist, etc.  These are all great ways to play with your technique.  But, that brings up two very important points:

1.  No matter your rank, if you are attacking in a manner you haven't been adequately trained in, likely you are not attacking correctly or at a level even close to your rank.  If you have never spent time with a boxing coach, hit the bags and gone round after round in the ring with someone, you have no expertise in how a boxer will attack.  Just because you are throwing a hook punch doesn't mean you are attacking like a boxer.  A boxer will use space, timing, angling and combinations to set up the KO, or they may just jab at you to weaken you enough for the KO.  Either way, they aren't going to just come at you with one big haymaker punch.  Same with MMA fighters, too.  They aren't going to just throw themselves at you without some tactical consideration.  If they've trained for any real length of time, they aren't idiots.  Even hardened criminals have fight experience and learned a thing or two about tactics.  Otherwise, they would be dead criminals.  So, if you want to 'test' your training against cross arts or skill sets, it would be far better to draw upon the experience of those who actually have that training - or go seek that training yourself first before pretending to know what you are presenting.

2.  If you spend too much time trying to 'test' or play with your technique against things outside your art, you may run into the problem of missing what lessons that technique holds.  Kata were designed for a reason.  Many techniques were simply solutions to a problem (the "what if" questions).  However, it's important to understand that in digging deep into a kata, you can learn much about the body.  You also learn much about the ryuha or school.  It is said that the first kata of a school contains the foundational points of that school.  It is also said that often the most difficult kata are the very first kata.  Why do you think that is?  Because they are foundational to understanding the roots or the key principles that make up the rest of the kata.  Many old ryuha have what is called "kihon", a set of skills that are learned first before the Shoden Kata, or first level of techniques.  This may include striking, blocking, breakfalls, and other base skill sets that are key in getting the person ready for the training.  Then, when the student has gained a sufficient level in these skill sets, the teacher would allow the student to begin learning the first forms of the school.  Many people today do not spend enough time or have enough time in their kihon to truly 'get' the kata they are trying to learn.  They perceive incorrectly because they are not able to see the kihon in the kata.  They only see the raw outer form, the big movements, and try to replicate.  But, their attempt to make it work is only as good as their level of kihon.  This creates an illusion and false confidence.  A cooperative uke and tori's natural strength and speed can compensate for a lack of strong kihon and hide the holes or ineffectiveness of the tori's ability to perform the kata as it was meant to be performed.  Then, when they become satisfied that they can do the kata, even if it is only a facade or illusion of proficiency, they want to jump into that dangerous world of henka, or variations.  That's when cross training comes in.  They stop digging deeper into the kata, to find and work on the kihon contained in it, and spend their time outside the kata.  They aren't learning anything, just reinforcing inefficient, bad mechanics.

I write these things not as a judge of others, although I admit that there is a level of finger pointing on my part.  But, I also am honest enough to admit that I fall into these mistakes myself.  Over the 2+ decades of training, I have bounced in and out of this training fallacy more times than I can count - and likely I will fall into it again at some point down the road.  It's wasted time, as it takes a much longer span of time to undo bad muscle memory, to unlearn bad training, than it does to do it right the first time.  But, enthusiasm is a dangerous thing sometimes and it is normal for all of us to go through periods of doubt about our own abilities.  Sometimes, just trusting your teacher isn't enough.  Sometimes, you have to take the long road to prove to yourself that what you are doing is right, that your teacher was right all along.  In budo, this is dangerous on a more basic level.  Budo is about survival.  Mistakes made in that can cost lives.

The end of this year has marked significant changes in the Bujinkan.  Of most significance is the announcement by Soke that he is no longer doing the Daikomyosai annual events.  His reasons included the concern about safety, having so many Bujinkan people gathering in Noda every year and the increased dangers of disasters and terrorism.  We saw Japan go through it's worst major disaster since the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in WW2.  The earthquakes, tsunami and subsequent radioactive contamination was a serious blow to the Japanese island.  The global war on terror, increased tensions with North Korea, China and Russia, and other geopolitical challenges all add to the dangers.  Our Soke seems to be looking at the Bujinkan as a responsible leader would any organization.  But, he also made a very important point as well, stating that people need to just come to Japan to learn at various times of the year, not just the one time of year for Daikomyosai.  In essence, he was saying "the door is always open".  This is something people need to hear.  For me, I have never been attracted by Daikomyosai.  With so many people coming from around the world, it has become more of a social event.  Sadly, for some, it is more about getting their face time with Soke, to get promoted, trophy photos taken with Soke and the Japanese Shihan, and to promote their own selfish agenda.  It isn't about the learning, about being a budoka.  It's more about being a performer, a groupie or attention seeker.

By encouraging people to come any time of the year, this breaks up the party.  During the off season, for instance, you can go to a class taught by a Japanese Shihan, one of the inner circle of teachers who are closest to Soke, and only have a handful of students in the room.  No fanfare, no big photo ops (although most will gladly pose with you for a photo if you ask), and no wide public recognition.  It is much more like a real dojo setting, where you get specific teaching and coaching.  Often, you may get to be uke, which is a whole new level of learning you won't get from just watching and doing.

Another significant evolution in the Bujinkan is the move away from ryuha-based teaching.  There are still those who focus entirely on the ryuha kata and they play an important role.  But, there is a growing number of people who are approaching training from a different perspective.  They are looking at training from a principle-based focus.  Instead of doing sets of kata, they are spending their time on looking at the timing, positioning and such of all those kata.  They are seeking the common ground, so to speak (write), and using a variety of training methods to develop skills outside the step-by-step learning of kata.  The rift has caused quite a lot of in-fighting.  One area of contention is in the subject of 'ground fighting'.  Many people have seen a major weakness in the Bujinkan in this area.  I tend to agree with this, as well.  Being taken to the ground is becoming more and more common in assaults, mostly due to the popularity of UFC and similar sporting events.  Most often, this involves a "ground and pound" mentality, but now you have people who find it pleasing to their ego to take someone down and choke them out in a RNC (Rear Naked Choke).  Both attacks are actually extremely dangerous outside the MMA sport.  Having your head bounce off the pavement from someone slamming fists and elbows into you (even if you are covering your face with your arms) can kill or cause brain damage.  Equally, having your neck cranked in an RNC can cause death or brain damage from trauma to the spinal cord, damaged or crushed trachea, or loss of blood flow.  Even heart attacks can happen from being choked out.  So, someone taking you to the ground, even if they don't have the intent to kill you - can very easily kill or disable you just from the effects of a couple of simple, easy to perform techniques.  Having some sense of familiarity of being on the ground and pounded or choked will keep you from panicking (deer in headlights syndrome) and allow you to have some options to escape.  Notice I wrote ESCAPE - not wrestle them into submission.  So, this is why I have spent time training with people who have ground fighting experience, to give me that familiarity and build some options to escape.  It is also something I share in my own teaching, because I see the value it brings in helping to keep my students alive.

But, what I also find interesting is how this kind of thing is starting to come out in Bujinkan training.  There are ground fighting (or as I call it, "Ground Survival") techniques in the Bujinkan.  The key is in finding the right teachers who actually know them, have been taught them, and who are willing to share what they know.  Again, I fall back on my section above where I make the point about people teaching things they really don't have experience in.

Even with this new shift in training, there are still those who sit on opposite sides of the fence between studying raw technique versus principle-based training.  People will look at going to what is commonly referred to in sport ground fighting as the Guard, for instance, and immediately think their crotch is vulnerable to strikes, so they immediately discount it.  But, if they studied the technique, they will see that in lifting the hips up, the groin is relatively protected.  At the same time, there is the technique of Shrimping, of sliding the hips out and jamming your knee into the space to block the attacker.  Simple techniques that can make all the difference in those situations.  But, if you don't train on them over and over until they are instinctual, it will be too late for your brain to communicate to your body and your body to respond with action.  So, you have to get your butt on the mat and train it over and over.  That's technique training.  But, don't fall into the danger of missing the tactical consideration of how you are taken to the ground (you don't go willingly) and what preventative actions you take to keep someone from getting on top of you, like kicking and creating blocks with your legs (after that, the Guard is far safer than having someone sitting on you as in a Full Mount).

However, add weapons into the mix and your perspective very quickly moves away from sports and into pure survival, which does affect the tactical appropriateness of common sport ground fighting techniques - and is the *concept* behind Soke's budo.  See the challenge here?

This new year is the Year of the Black Water Snake.  I'm not a believer in Asian Astrology, nor am I an expert in it, but I do find it helps shed light sometimes on my own understanding of life and budo.  In my study of the symbolism of the Black Water Snake, I found some interesting points.

The Snake is an intelligent creature, using logic and patience, moving slowly, gracefully and well paced.  It is an avid hunter, tasting the air with it's tongue to find it's prey and predator (to avoid being prey!).  Because it moves slowly, it isn't a chase predator, like a tiger).  It relies on stealth, terrain (low ground), and camouflage.  It is patient, taking as long as it needs to get within striking range.  Some snakes use venom.  Others entangle and crush.  But, in the end it seeks to dominate and consume the prey.

Water is a common element in martial arts.  It's symbolism is rooted in nagare, or flow, and it is at the root of adaptation.  Water can change from solid, liquid and gas, but still retain it's base property.  No matter what form it's in, it is still water.  Water can give life and destroy life.  When it is challenged, it can find the tiniest of crevices and, if unstopped, will wear away the hardest mountains into canyons.  If stopped, water will stagnate.  But, even stagnate water evaporates eventually.  So, no matter how fast or slow, it is constantly changing.

Black is the color of void, denoting no limit.  Black water gives the feeling of a bottomless lake, dark and foreboding, mysterious and dangerous.  In many circles of belief, water represents emotion and dreams.  I remember as a child having a great fear of swimming in dark waters, where I couldn't see the bottom.  My imagination always teased my fear with scary creatures living in the darkness below, poised to snatch my dangling feet and pull me to the cold depths of the unknown.

When I think of these things, I am reminded of how it feels to train in Soke's budo.  The feeling of Soke's budo, and of training with the Japanese Shihan, is very much a combination of these three attributes.  There's gracefulness, a flow or timing that captivates the mind, of using lower positioning and spaces, patiently entering to points where they are strong and uke is weak, where the uke is either crushed or weakened into paralysis.  There is plenty of mystery and fear, as they adapt and keep moving through the tiniest of openings in both space and time, so that even the strongest structures of the uke are worn down to emptiness.

To be a student of this budo is like trying to follow Soke into the dark waters of fear, mystery and the unknown.  There is always so much that is hidden, unseen, and not understood.  Always there is doubt in my own understanding.  It can be easy to get lost, to drown trying to find my own way, to keep reaching down to find solid ground.  But, if I just relax, to keep following the right teachers, it is like relaxing and allowing the natural buoyancy of my body to keep me afloat.  If I fight it, if I keep trying to resist, then I will sink and drown.

This leads me to my focus for 2013.

I have wrestled with techniques so long that another technique means very little to me.  What I have come to find foundational is the need for movement.  Techniques are unreliable.  The way most of us have trained and continue to train is to put movement second, over getting a technique 'right'.  This involves stopping the action, letting balance settle, the uke naturally adjusting their balance and structure, while the tori fumbles with their position, hand grip or placement, where to put a foot, grip on a weapon, etc.  This, I have come to understand, is death.  Death of taijutsu.  Taijutsu needs to be free-flowing, like water.  It needs to keep from becoming stagnate, or it will evaporate and disappear, leaving us vulnerable.  If a technique fails, our movement will keep us safer (not SAFE, but SAFER than we were before).

Let me use an example of modern combatives.  You are in a restaurant enjoying a meal with family.  You have a handgun holstered on your waist (drop the concealed weapon argument for a moment).  Suddenly, a masked man enters through a back door and starts shooting.  Under this immediate stress, the fight or flight adrenaline response takes over.  Your typical response would be to seek cover, to hit the ground.  However, now you are armed, so you grab for your sidearm.  In choosing the weapon over the evasion, you are shot.  Had you chosen the evasion first, you would still be alive.  But, suppose you drop under the table.  Your family are still in harm's way.  You draw your weapon and they get shot.  Maybe instead of dropping to the floor (evasion), then going for your weapon, you needed to protect your family first.  How about pulling them to the floor, flipping up the table as cover or similar actions to protect them, THEN pulling your weapon?

I don't want to argue the tactical mechanics as much as I am trying to present a concept.  In my example above, every time the weapon became the focus, someone was shot.  Only when tactical movement was put first did the danger decrease for you and your family.  Of course, the example is a horrible situation where many possibilities exist.  But, my point is still the same.

Then, if this is such a logical conclusion on a modern combatives situation, why do so many people train the opposite in traditional martial arts?  Generations of budoka stand in one spot, firing strike after strike, or any technique, over and over, using only a very limited set of positional movement.  There's no tactical consideration outside of the specific skill set they are performing.  This builds narrow skill set muscle memory that, when under an immediate, real life threat, will take over and act - even when the greater tactical logic is in opposition.

Another example is a real case from the early 70's, where bank robbers held up a bank and the first responders were plain clothed FBI agents.  The robbers got into a shootout with the agents and, sadly, the agents where shot.  Investigators on the scene afterward found empty shell casings in the pockets of the agents.  The reason for this odd finding had to do with the training of the agents.  During their firearms training, when they needed to reload their revolvers, they would release the spent casings from the weapon into their hand, place the casings in their pocket, and reload new shells into the firearm.  They were not allowed to just expel the spent casings onto the ground.  So, when faced with assailants shooting at them, the adrenaline induced response was to follow their programmed muscle memory.  Thus, the time they spent collecting and depositing the empty shell casings into their pockets was time they needed to reload their weapons to return fire.  Looking at this situation, there wasn't a man or woman who probably thought it was tactically smart to worry about shell casings.  Yet, they all trained that way and likely would have responded similarly.

Again, this is where technique-focused training can produce bad, tactically dangerous habits.

So, having spent just about all of 2012 focusing training on technique, specifically the Tenchijin Ryaku no Maki, I am going to switch perspectives and make this year about movement.  I want to put continuous, constant movement over technical skill sets.  That doesn't mean we won't train on techniques.  But, in learning them, we first will learn when, where, and how to move.  The 'when' is the timing, the kind of timing that exists in a real attack (even if slow for training purposes).  The 'where' is the positioning, the tactically superior place, not when the attack happens or after, but even before.  The 'how' is the method.  More than just technique, this is the focus on ergonomics, naturalness, and flow.  But, this isn't just three things, as in a set, but in a continuous loop of continuity.  We are not going to do things the old way of step here, wait, step there, wait, etc.  We are going to push ourselves, both as uke and tori, to keep the action rolling.  Individual skill sets, like wrist twisting, arm locks, striking, etc, are all actions performed during the course of moving, not what you do at stopping points (a huge pet peave of mine!).  Balance taken is balance kept.  Uke is not going to be allowed to recover.  Structure broken is unrecoverable.  And, at higher levels, the uke is encouraged to try and recover.  Many wonderful techniques Soke and the Shihan perform often happens during the attempted recovery by the uke.  We need to discover that in our own training, too.

This will be frustrating for some.  You will need to let go of an expected result.  Attaching your mind to how you 'think' or 'expect' a technique or reaction should be is dangerous.  If you grab a hand and turn, for instance, and you 'expect' the uke to react a certain way, is not taking you closer to being that zero state that Soke talks about.  If this means losing a technique or ending up completely lost and not sure what to do, that's ok.  But, you have to keep moving, even if it is to gain distance and escape.  When all else fails should you engage, right?  So why not train that way?  If there's no immediate danger anymore, then get out of there.  That's what modern combatives teaches.  Martial arts are just historical versions of combatives.  There should be no difference.  We're the ones who have made them different.

So, let's refocus our training the basics of basics - movement and tactics.  As Soke has said over and over and what has become a commonly tossed admonition in the Bujinkan: "Gambatte", meaning "keep going".  Well, that's what I want us to do.  Keep going.  Don't stop.  Don't let anything stop us, even a technique.

Have a wonderful New Year and let's Gambatte together!
Darren

Monday, December 17, 2012

Clarity

I am still reeling over the mass murder of those little school kids in Connecticut this past week.  I am going to attempt to convey my own thoughts on some important points this whole situation brings up as it pertains to our budo training.  The reality behind it all is that no matter how we train, how we prepare emergency plans, upgrade our technology and take every other precaution, if someone has the deep desire to kill innocent people and they are willing to act on it, they will find a way to do it.

In looking at the subject of these random murders, I am left with many questions regarding our own budo path and how we each can impact these situations.  Aside from the usual answers about what techniques one would deploy, or whether we should be carrying firearms or any other weapons, or any other obvious conclusion, I am more interested into the reality of the situation as it could unfold in front of us.

Suppose you were out with your family, let's say a mall.  You see someone getting out of their car and walking towards a rear mall entrance.  They are dressed in black fatigue pants and wearing a black trench coat.  They have a black duffel bag and appear to be holding something inside their coat.  What do you do?  Would you even notice amongst all the other people coming and going?

I like to think that our training enables us to have a bit more awareness than the average person, especially in noticing things that maybe just aren't "right".  But, noticing is one thing.  Making the choice to actually do something isn't so hard, either.  The problem comes in choosing exactly what to do.  How do you know this person is actually a danger?  What proof have you seen to tell you that?

Would you call 911 on someone just because they look suspicious to you?  Of course, seeing a weapon would be an easy sign.  But, what if you couldn't see any weapons and you were only making an assumption?  Would you honestly take any sort of action?

Alternatively, are you more likely to wait until you actually see the threat?  How long do you think it takes to call 911, get a response and have law enforcement on scene to engage the threat?  How many shots could a killer take during that time?  How many innocent victims will be killed every minute until help arrives and is able to stop the killer?



I like to think that some of us in the buyu community might have some effect on reducing the damage.  But, even one life lost to a murderer is one too many.  We also have our own family who may be with us.  Do we then find ourselves in the position of hunkering down, maybe with our loved ones, maybe with strangers, while another innocent person is murdered right in front of us?

Feel helpless?



As I look at photos of those murderers who have recently committed these mass shootings, I notice some common traits.  They all seem to have a sense that the world is coming to an end, or that they are at war with society.  They disconnected themselves, checked out, from the rest of society, even their own family and friends.  They idolize symbols of power and choose the most violent methods to make their statement.  They almost all choose a course that will eventually end in their death, but most often they take their own lives.  They almost all wear military style clothing and use firearms, with the exception of the mass attack at a Chinese elementary school by a crazed knife wielding sicko.

So, put yourself in the victim's place.  What if you were there, shots firing into scared people, mass chaos all around, people trampling each other to escape, deafening blasts of shot after shot filling the room or wherever you are.  What do you do?  How would you react?  Could you actually DO anything to stop him or them from killing another?

Or are you as helpless as the next guy.

My thought is that this is a collective solution, that we as a society need to take responsibility to look out for each other.  We need to escape this bubble of presumed immunity that has permeated so much of our culture.  We need to accept that there are people in this world, some who live right in our own towns, who fantasize about doing this sort of mass murder.  There are those on their way to getting there in their heads.  They disassociate themselves from society, from their peers and family, and begin to talk or write about how bad life is becoming, how futile and apocalyptic things are.



There could be someone you know who is in this downward spiral.  It may be a friend or family member.  How low does this person need to be before you take notice?  How low do they need to be before you take action?  It could be as simple as a phone call to find out.

All these people who committed these acts of terror were somebody's friend or relative.  Before turning into the sociopathic killer they became, these people were the kids next door, the kids in your class, the kids playing ball in the street, the kids in your church, etc.  They were the guys who work with you, sit in the next cubicle, drive the deliveries to your houses and businesses, etc.  In essence, they were, for the most part, regular people.  But, something snapped somewhere along the way and they began a dark journey inward, which eventually led to murder.



As budoka, we train in methods to protect life.  Do we have to wait until the attack in order to be protectors of life?  Maybe by having the sensitivity to 'know' when someone is headed down that dark, terrible road, we can influence or bring resources in to save the person before they become killers.  Not only would be be saving the lives of countless victims, but we'd be saving the life of the person before they become a killer.



That, to me, sounds like being a true life-protector.

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Movement and Hinging

The term Kaname has been tossed around quite a bit this year, mostly due to Hatsumi Soke introducing it as one of the themes for this year.  Among the many different meanings applied to it during the year, the raw definition really is as simple as relating to the hinge of a door.  So, I would like to take a moment to write out some thoughts on this and how the mechanics of movement work with this kaname.

For starters, let me say there are no definite rules on this and many teachers teach different things.  But, for this post I am going to strip away all the extra 'stuff' and just look at the hinging aspect.

Take the Tsuki no Kata for instance.  The old form way of doing it involves moving a great distance, extending the body as far forward as possible while dropping the weight down and flattening the posture.  The legs are open, the hips open, the spine straight, the shoulders open over the hips and the head in line with the spine.  The punching hand is extended out from the shoulders to the target.

It really is a very difficult technique unless one has the flexibility and committed taijutsu to propel their body forward like a spear to pierce the target.  In fact, this kind of movement is so universal, it's been a foundational technique in European fencing for hundreds of years!

Without getting into the different ways people have changed this technique over the years in the Bujinkan, I want to just focus on a key point of it all.  What is important is that when you move forward, the entire body must move forward.  Any percent of the body that doesn't move forward is less energy going into the penetration and force of the attack.  Further, any part of the body that pulls away actually steals energy from the attack!

By "any part of the body", I am not necessarily including the limbs, as there are counter moves designed to keep balance (like the back motion of the arm in Chi no Kata from the Gogyo/Sanshin no Kata) or simply when you walk.

Rather, I am particularly focusing on the shape of the capital "I" that represents the shoulders, spine and hips.  Or, more specifically, the shoulders and hips.

When I see people launch a Tsuki, often I see energy or force being stripped or inhibited by counter or dead movement in these parts of the body.  For instance, take a look at this example of a good Tsuki:

 

 This is a good example of a Tsuki, showing how the body projects the weapon through the target in a forward and downward motion, using a body posture of the spine, hips and shoulders that support the action.  What is not shown, however, is the action, the kinetics of how this happens.

If you look at how a person stands, each foot planted at a point that best supports the balance of the body, you'll see how each connecting point to the ground (i.e. the foot) is a post.  When the body moves, often weight is lifted off the moving leg to raise it up and move it forward, then weight is brought back onto the leg as it posts to a new location and supports the body transition over it.  However, in Tsuki no Kata, this is incorrect.  The back and forth shifting of weight is telegraphing and, in the case of moving under a sword cut or thrust, you would be moving back across the attack line as the projected foot lands and posts.  In a nutshell, you would be struck as you move forward.

Instead, find how you can shift weight down and forward onto the foot you want to move and raise it just as weight is starting to move into it.  This involves a softening of the knees and slight turn of the hips, spine and shoulders towards the direction of motion. If you wait too long, the weight will lock your foot down, so you have to find the right timing.  In this manner, you are transferring your body to the side you are moving forward, taking you off the attack line and staying off of it.

Ok, so we got that part, right?  Staying off the line of attack and sending your body along the line of movement instead of shifting weight back and forth.  It's plain economics of kinetic energy, motion and balance.

Now for my focus.

As you execute your movement, be aware of the other half of your body.  Particularly your rear foot and hip.  Do you push them away from your movement?  Does your rear foot turn outward away from the direction of motion?  Does your rear hip push back and turn away?  These are the things I am writing about.

As you transfer weight off of your posted foot onto the moving foot, your body is moving forward.  The posted foot becomes the rear foot and pushes your body forward onto the front foot as it posts.  This line of support, the rear foot, leg, hip and shoulder is like the hinge on a door.  It pivots around a singular line.  Some people will move and teach that the spine is the singular line and some people will teach the center line (also known as Chusen) is the singular line from which motion is hinged or pivots on.

This last part is actually true in some regards and at times the spine can be the center line of the hinge.  But, remember that I am writing about Tsuki no Kata, the committed action of going in a forward attacking direction.  If anything, the chusen and spine actually move around and forward of the pivot line of the rear foot, hip and shoulder.  As the lead foot, hip and shoulder move forward, the spine/chusen follow around like a train, linked together in a string of action.

Does this make sense?

What is key here is in knowing what is moving forward, what is moving back, what is pivoting in a singular point and what is just dead.  There are times maybe you need to shorten range but still need the correct body alignment and, in order to achieve that, you must pull back the rear half of the body or your posture won't support the impact of the strike.  You need to adapt to your situation, but do it with economical, balanced and powerful motion.

As you explore these technical details and see how you can improve your own natural motion, you'll quickly find this to be true when moving in any direction.  So, see how you can apply this hinging idea as you move, whether it is forwards, backwards, sideways, and diagonally.

Then, find the parallels to how you move when lunging from Fudoza no Kamae or Seiza no Kamae.  Hint:  Your ground or posted knee is the pivot point connecting your spine and skull to the ground.




Hope this helps!  Whether you agree or have different ideas is fine.  If you are at least made aware of these things and make a point in your training to take a look at them, then my article has served it's purpose.

Happy training!

















Monday, October 1, 2012

Teaching, Coaching, Leading

Training in any martial art always involves, at some point, having to show someone else what to do.  A concept among more traditional Japanese schools is the Kohai (junior) and Sempai (senior) class model.  The idea is that everybody is both a Kohai and sempai to somebody.  The Kohai learn from and follow the examples of the Sempai.  The sempai nurture and provide example to the Kohai.  There is a responsibility of each role and every student strives to adhere to these Kohai and Sempai responsibilities at the same time.  This presents a real challenge as each student tries to learn, to accept their mistakes and grow from them, but to also provide example centered leadership to those Kohai who look to them.

In addition to the Kohai and Sempai roles in the class, there are also the roles of Tori (person doing a technique) and Uke (person receiving the technique).   This relationship is common to martial arts, but carry a very deep significance besides just "attacker" and "defender".  In particular importance is the role of Uke.  This is not just the guy who is being hit, thrown, locked up, choked, and otherwise abused as part of an overall technique.  This role is vital to the successful learning of the Tori and involves a level of training and growth that is equally important.

At the base of being Uke is this concept of Ukemi.  Ukemi is the ability to blend or adapt to a situation.  On a basic (but not really 'basic') level, Ukemi is the rolling and breakfalls, the techniques of going to the ground safely.  It also is the ability to go with the leverage, the pain, the lock, the hit, whatever the Tori is doing, so as to avoid being injured.

I have written previous posts about each of these roles and provided my thoughts regarding them from a student's perspective.  The point of this blog post has more to do with these relationships from the perspective of the Sensei, or teacher.

In many martial arts, particularly Koryu (classical martial arts), techniques are preserved in their written (Densho) form, practiced over and over without much variation (or none at all), and passed on from teacher to student.  Thus, the structure of the Sensei (teacher) and Deshi (student) is one of transmitting the material "as is".  Among the Deshi, the Kohai and Sempai operate as a sort of caste system of ranking.  It all follows a very systematic form of passing the traditions, techniques and principles along to newer generations.

In the Bujinkan, however, things might be similar to the class structure I outlined above.  But, what makes the Bujinkan what it is has more to do with the relationships, the open learning environment, that we enjoy.  Our Soke (grandmaster) encourages us to learn from each other.  He doesn't say to only learn from our Sempai or Sensei.  He says learn from each other, regardless of rank or status.  He encourages people to come to Japan and train with him and the senior Japanese teachers.  In many traditional schools, the Soke is often not approachable to people below a certain rank.  In fact, sometimes only those senior ranked students are allowed to train with the Soke and junior ranked students train with the senior students.

With our current Soke, he invites people to come to his classes, but encourages people to train with Shidoshi (Bujinkan teachers).  He says he is teaching to the upper ranked students (10th degree black belts and above), but everybody gets something from his classes.  He just won't teach you how to step, punch, block or any other kind of fundamental skills.  What you will get is a big picture, out of the box approach to see our art.  You will get a certain 'feeling' of how Soke moves.  It's this experience that is used as the backdrop to training, the light at the end of the tunnel.  Except this light keeps moving, evolving and we can only try to keep up as best we can.  That's why we need each other.  That's why the Bujinkan came about to begin with.  It's a team effort to try and stay connected to Soke's light.

When someone passes their Godan (5th degree black belt), they have the option to also be a Shidoshi (teacher).  Then, they can open their own schools, teach seminars and rank their students.  However, many other martial arts stop there.  Our Soke requires all those who are Shidoshi to stay connected to him either through direct experience (going to Japan and training) or by training regularly with Sempai or Sensei who do.  This is very important, since we are not a school of straight technique transmission.  There is so much more to the training that goes beyond the Densho (written techniques).  This is the Kuden (spoken teaching).  It only comes from direct experience, to catch the vision, the 'feeling', the principles and concepts, that turn techniques from being the product to just being the expression of the art.  The "Art" is the human element, which only comes from human to human interaction.

Then, to be able to express that and pass it along to Deshi (students) is a real challenge for a Shidoshi!

I have found that my role as a Shidoshi has fallen into three parts:  Teacher, Coach and Leader.  As a Teacher, I educate my students on what I know.  As a Coach, I encourage and guide my students to develop their skills.  As a Leader, I give examples through my own training.  I am both Sensei and Deshi.  I am also both Sempai and Kohai.  And, by example, I try to lead those who look to me for guidance through both my knowledge and my own training.  I don't talk the talk, but strive to walk the walk.

And, I accept that my current level of ability and understanding is incomplete, sometimes flawed, sometimes with holes, and sometimes dead on correct.  That's why I take being a Shidoshi, a Teacher, Coach, and Leader very seriously.  I am also honest.  If I don't know something or I'm not correct, I'll be the first to admit it, learn from it, and move on.  I've messed up techniques.  I've taken my share of hits and laughed at myself over it.  It's because I don't take myself too seriously.  I do, however, take the effects of what I say and do very seriously, because I know there are those who trust me with their training.   I also take the responsibility of my training very seriously.  I'm the only one who I don't take seriously!

It's a tough journey as a Deshi.  Particularly a Bujinkan Deshi, as the road is not paved, structured, laid out nicely in a package that can be learned easily.  It is filled with confusion, misdirection, misinformation, misunderstanding, and many, many points of frustration along the way.  And, to be a Bujinkan Shidoshi, a Sensei and Sempai, is even tougher! Yet, we are admonished by our Soke to "Keep Going" (Gambatte).  Because I have been training so long, I am finally starting to really see the value in that.  I have come to really understand that it is the "Keeping Going" that contains the real lessons of Budo and Life.  As a Shidoshi, I can teach someone to strike, grapple, throw, use weapons, and all sorts of other things.  However, I cannot teach Gambatte.  I can only encourage and show through my own examples.  And, if I fall short on that, I am not only going against everything Soke has taught me, everything this art has taught me, but I am also living a lie to myself, my Deshi and my Kohai.

The responsibility is great.  But, nobody said this life was easy, nor should it ever be.



Monday, August 20, 2012

Shizentai and Hidden Dangers

As my body gets older and the effects of bad movement, sports martial arts, wild "stunts", and injuries begin to really show, I am finding incredible value in how natural Soke's movement is.  Instead of learning another waza, I prefer to spend my training time focusing on how to make what I know that much more efficient and natural.  In a nutshell, I am focused on the ergonomics of how I move and finding that small adjustments make big differences.  Often, these little anti-ergo habits go unnoticed, especially when youth and health can compensate or hide the negative effects.  But, time will eventually win, as repeated stress on joints and connective tissues begin to wear away natural structure and movement.  Recovery becomes more difficult and takes longer to complete, so the wear and tear compounds into each training session, each bad movement, until eventually something blows out or injury happens from a seemingly minor action.

There are many ergo-mistakes I see in how people move, in class and on video.  I'm no expert, I don't have a doctorate in these things, but I have enough direct experience in how NOT to move and what effects it has on the body to know what I mean.  It doesn't take a university course to learn these things.  Our own bodies speak to us constantly, if we listen closely.  I am finding that I can 'hear' my body telling me when something isn't natural or ergonomic.

The same is also true for my own internal health, what I eat, how I control my emotions and thoughts, etc.  But, that's for another time to discuss.  I want to focus on physical movement, or what we know as taijutsu.

Since the base of our taijutsu exists in our legs and how we move using them, I will write about one particular area that many in the West are commonly prone to injure - the knees.  More specifically, the inside and outside ligaments of the knee (commonly known as ACL & PCL).  I'm sure either you or someone you know has injuries related to one or both of these ligaments.  In addition, there are injuries that involve the cap itself not seating correctly when the knee is flexed, the crunching sound from knee deterioration and calcium buildup, and other nasty ailments that strip a person from enjoying natural, balanced and free movement.

There are lots of things that we can look at here, but I'm going to present something most Bujinkan budoka should be familiar with.  From our very first class, we are introduced to posture such as Ichimonji no Kamae or Seigan no Kamae.  More specifically, the 90 degree "L" shape of the feet (and the opening angles that extend farther).  We are taught the importance of keeping the knees aligned over the toes and the hips and shoulder aligned over that.  Most practice this as a static 'pose' to work on alignment and flexibility, which is good.  It is when we move that problems begin.

Here's a typical example:  The student steps back into the classic "L" shaped kamae (let's say Ichimonji no Kamae).  Then, they shift their weight forward to launch that rear handed strike (like Ichimonji no Kata or Sui no Kamae).  Where ergo/natural movement breaks down is in the transfer of position from back to front, the middle moment when the body turns to face front.  If you watch closely, often you'll see a collapse of the rear knee inward, the rear foot moving either little to none, then the step forward.  For that brief moment, instead of the rear knee joint holding weight evenly between both inside and outside points of the joint, there's a shift of pressure to the inside joint, causing stress against the ligaments and structure.  It's at that moment that wear and tear happens and the joint is vulnerable.  If the ground changes, something or someone strikes that point, or the joint itself is already stressed to the point of blowing out, then things can go real bad.  Couple that with the fact that what will happen next in the movement sequence is a lift of weight off the leg, a planting of the foot to the front, then sudden weight reapplied as the rear foot now becomes the front foot and the strike delivered to the target.  At that moment, any weakened tissues in that joint are now required to load body weight and momentum.  Often, this is where the person also will stop their motion, as they complete the strike/technique.  This involves increased stress as the 'brakes' are put on to stop the momentum.  The muscles around the knee flex to absorb the weight and motion, while pushing back into the body to counter the inertia.  If the knee is not aligned properly, that is further stress against a knee joint that already has been stressed when the movement first started.

You see the compounding problem here, and it all starts with how you start moving.

There are many ways to reduce the stress to your knees in how you would move from back to front.  This is, in my opinion, what kuden (oral teaching) is for.  Some things you just can't explain in a text book.  It has to be felt, seen, and explained person to person.  There are so many variables to this that no one way is sufficient to be a fix-all to every person.  But, there are a few things you can do now to help reduce these dangers and add more natural, ergo-friendly movement to your taijutsu:

  • Pay attention to your knees!  You can feel the pull or stress on your joints if you slow down enough.  Example:  Stand in Ichimonji no Kamae with the "L" shape foot pattern.  Take your lead arm (should be extended out front) and, using your body, turn your body to the inside and outside as if you are painting a horizontal line with your lead hand.  As you do this, pay attention to the inside and outside of your knees.  Do you feel pressure building and releasing on the inside, outside, or both sides of your knees?  That's a warning.
  • Try keeping your knees over your toes and using the flexibility of your hips, where the thigh connects to the hip, to open up to allow for the turn.  You may feel your rear glute (butt cheek muscle) flex as you do so, but that's ok for now.  See if you can point your belly button forward without causing stress to the inside of your rear knee.
  • If you are going to do the step back and step forward action really quickly, don't turn out your rear foot so much.  This is controversial to purists, but it is a way to keep your rear knee pointing halfway forward already so that you can spring forward into your strike without having to stress the inside of the knee in the sudden transfer.  What is interesting is that one of the senior Japanese teachers I trained with while in Japan taught a version of Jumonji no Kamae that uses this kind of half-step/half-turn positioning of the rear food (as opposed to the "L" shape).  I have taught Jumonji no Kamae what way ever since, as a halfway point to Ichimonji no Kamae, with the option to spring forward (or any angle, actually).  Again, some may not agree or do it this way, so it's up to you to experiment and find what feels more natural to you and allows you to move efficiently.
There are other examples and solutions, but I am not one to teach via the internet.  What is important is that you are aware of the little warnings your body tells you and to adapt accordingly.  We are all built differently and each of us has our own limits, whether developmental or caused by injury.  Real shizentai or 'natural body' is when you embrace those limits and either evolve through them (limited by skill development) or evolve around them (limited by injury or handicap).  True budo is about survival, to 'keep going' (gambatte) and the root of it all is how we adapt to find the most efficient method to achieve not just peace in our environment and our lives, but peace in our own body.  Train slowly and with mindfulness to what 'conflicts' we are having in our own bodies and find how little adjustments can prevent, reduce and even eliminate these stressors that only cause long term injury and steal the natural, ergonomic body movement we seek.

Train hard - train smart - live well.

Darren

Friday, April 6, 2012

Offensive defense

The subjects of blocking and receiving have been a common theme element in my training lately, so I thought I would take a moment to put my thoughts down as to what these are and provide some insight into what makes them work.

Blocking is simply to provide a resistant surface to an incoming strike.  It can also be seen as "shielding", either with the body or with an object.  Receiving is the act of absorbing.  The two can be the same thing, such as you have to receive in order to block.

Then, there's the topic of soft and hard blocking/receiving.  This relates to how much you yield to the strike.  Hard blocks are less yielding, soft blocks are more yielding.  Yielding can be used to change the direction of the strike so that it travels off the support structure and causes a break in balance.  Not yielding can cause the strike to collapse, breaking the structure of the attacker.  Both require lots of development and conditioning to pull of in a real encounter.  But, there is a time and place for everything.

A third topic is not about blocking or receiving, but of attacking.  This is when you attack the strike.  In the Bujinkan, you see this alot with the kihon Jodan Uke, where you attack the weak parts of the uke's arm as it strikes out at you.  This can be done with the knuckles or forearm of the tori's forward arm.

The problem comes when people confuse these together and deliver a bad combination in their technique.  They try to attack the arm with the softness of a yielding receiver, or have the rigidity of a blocking action instead of a continuous strike through the target.  This creates ineffectiveness and holes in taijutsu for the tori.  Each action, whether blocking, receiving/yielding, or attacking the arm, has to be developed and implimented according to what they are.  Treating each one as a seperate skill set or tool will help ensure they provide the effects they were designed for.

When a strike happens, the body's muscles load up with energy then burst it outward towards the target.  In a series of strikes, this is a process of loading, firing, reloading, firing, and so on.  In defensive action, the blocking is a buildup of tension and energy to provide structural solidity, to aid in the body's ability to resist the impact of the strike.  In receiving and yielding, the muscles don't load or fire.  The body relaxes and molds with the energy of the strike and shifts angle to guide the direction of the strike or reduce the impact.

However, in striking as a defensive action, the muscles must load and fire just like any offensive strike.  This build up happens as the strike is coming forward from the uke.  This means movement is vital for the tori to avoid being struck.  The counter strike then happens when the uke's attack has fired and is in the process of reloading for the next attack.  The timing of this is crucial.  A muscle that has fired it's energy is weak, exposing the nerves and creating a soft target that allows impact to reach the bone structures within.  If the strike happens in the moment between firing and reloading, the uke's limb will be most vulnerable and it will have maximum effect.

When a muscle is struck in this important moment before it reloads, it sends shock waves and affects the muscle's ability to reload.  It is 'stunned'.  Blood will fill into the muscle tissues and it's ability to reload to full capacity will be affected.

This timing is something that has to be practices slowly at first.  The uke needs to move, then strike.  Move to avoid the tori's punch, then strike before the tori can retract and reload.  A mistake people often make is they receive, block or just move, but don't do anything else until the uke's muscles have reloaded.  In reality, to try and attack the limb or body would be at the same timing of when the uke can fire again.  This is too late.  The window of opportunity is before the uke can reload.

Another effect from this kind of 'counter offensive' is that any loading up that happens in the uke on the other side of their body will fire as a response to the uke's hit.  As the uke strikes out, he likely is also loading up the other side for a second strike.  Hitting the uke's expired muscles on the striking limb will cause the loaded up muscles of the other limb to fire, thereby greatly reducing the power of the second strike.  It also will cause a shift in the structural alignment of their body, which will also affect accuracy.

Something important to note here is that the 'counter offensive' action isn't limited to the striking arm.  It takes many muscles to load and fire a real strike.  You can also attack those muscles as well.  Having a good uke who can move slow and mimic the tension and firing of a real attacker will help identify those muscles.  For instance, watch what happens to the pectoral muscles when a punch is delivered and retracted.  You'll see an explosion of tension then release in one or both sides.  Hit that target the moment it releases and watch their body collapse in and their ability to take in a breath become difficult.  But, please be careful!

As the tori strikes out at the uke's expired muscles, causing a "misfire" in the remaining muscles that are loaded up, this provides excellent opportunity for the tori to then execute an action with the other side of their body - which is loaded and ready to move because it hasn't fired yet.  This timing can play into kata like Ichimonji no Kata.  The timing of when to counter strike with the forward hand jodan uke and when to close and strike with the rear hand shuto is key to understanding this kata.  It all happens when the uke has expired their muscles!

This same principle also applies to legs, hands, feet, facial muscles, torso, hips - everywhere!  Just pay attention to your own body when you do a strike or kick or even locks and throws.  Your body will teach you if you listen.  Your uke will also experience very similar things, so you'll have clues about your uke just by listening to your own body.  That's the beauty of proper Sanshin no Kata training...

I hope this helps, play with these ideas and see what you discover!

Gambatte!

Thursday, March 29, 2012

I hate math...

I hate math.  Seriously.  It gives me pains in my head like no other subject.  And, subjects like Physics use a lot of math.  Yet, lately I've been researching Newton's Laws of Motion and found some excellent lessons regarding taijutsu and effectiveness.

As a complete layman on the subject of Physics, I'm going to attempt to explain my thoughts regarding how these Laws apply to martial arts and what we can learn from them in our own training.

Newton Law of Motion #1 - Law of Balance.  A Stationary object will never move as long as all the forces acting on it are balanced.  The forces acting on an object moving at a constant velocity (steady speed) are also balanced forces.  If a car is traveling at a steady speed, the forces are balanced (even in motion).  If that car starts to accelerate or decelerate, then the forces will no longer be equal and balanced.

Think about our balance.  Our own and our uke's balance.  When we move, we alter our balance.  When we stop moving, we alter our balance.  But, when all our parts move in perfect relationship to the velocity, and that velocity doesn't change, then we have balance.  Think about how this is applied in Sanshin no Kata, and especially in nagare (flow).  In addition, there is a timing element of when to change how our uke is moving or being moved, where they are no longer balanced.  This is applied in our Kihon Happo.  This also plays heavily in my current emphasis of keeping moving, as the balance should be maintained through consistent velocity (no speeding up or slowing down/stopping). There are more lessons here, but I'll let you ponder on that yourself.

Newton's Law of Motion #2 - Force = Mass x Acceleration.  This lets us work out the forces at play on an object by multiplying the mass of the object by the acceleration of the object.

Now, I have a few thoughts on this.  In martial arts, force is important.  But, you hear teachers admonish us not to use force.  There is a difference, however, in 2 things:  how that force is generated and where that force is used.  In our taijutsu, we learn to generate force through our movement, relying less on our own muscles.  However, that is not always the case and we need to train so that we have the muscle power when we need it.  The second factor is even more crucial.  Using force against force goes against the basic maxim of most, if not all, martial arts.  Some situations require it.  But, we train to move so that we are at the correct angles and timing and spacing to apply force where it will have the most effectiveness.  In basic taijutsu, this is often from low postures (kamae) and at off-angles (usually 45-90 degrees).

Newton's Law of Motion #3 - Law of Mass.  Mass is how heavy an object is without gravity.  Or, Mass is how much matter (density) an object has.

Size doesn't always matter.  Size can matter, however, when you look at how Mass affects power.  Since it is a key component in the definition of Force, you have to acknowledge it's place in martial arts.  But, don't confuse size with ability.  No matter how big the opponent is, he will always have weak points, vulnerabilities, and can be defeated.  Remember, Force does not just equate to Mass.  It also has Acceleration.  And, with Acceleration comes balance.  When you apply gravity to Mass and Balance, then you start to see where larger Mass (weight) can be a vulnerability.  On a combat level, one's fitness is also challenged when their own muscles and oxygen absorbtion are not developed to carry their Mass through the exertion of conflict.  Then, there's always the psychological and emotional component...

One important factor in our taijutsu is to relax.  Relaxing not only conserves energy and makes the body supple so it can adapt, but it also affects the weight.  Try picking up someone who is tense, then someone who is relaxed like a limp dishrag.  The latter will feel almost double the weight.  So, you add relaxed muscles to the movement, you increase the Mass x Acceleration factor.  Of course, you need to then develop what muscles to use and when to use them to support the impact of a strike or apply leverage (as well as a properly aligned structure that provides stability without having to compensate through your muscles).  You can't defeat someone by being a limp dishrag...

A quick comment regarding structure - structure has to support balance and applied force.  This means that your structure needs to support your Mass against the effects of gravity through the correct alignment of the bone joints of the body, like a house of cards, so that the muscles can relax into the base or framework.  When you apply Force, that structure has to shift alignment in direct proportion to the effect on balance the motion creates.  In addition, just as your skeletal structure should be aligned to support you from gravity, the same structure should also absorb the impact when you apply that force against a target.  The less your skeletal structure can do this, the more you have to use muscles and connecting tissues.  The more you have to use muscles and connecting tissues, the more you waste energy and your balance is further affected.

When you apply the Law of Balance with the Law of Force, keeping correct balance and structure throughout, you have pretty effective taijutsu.