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.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Is your training 'scary'?
This is a topic I've played with for some time, and only now have begun to truly understand it. It seems silly when I think of it, but I see it as a problem that runs rampant throughout the martial arts world, especially in the Bujinkan. However, I am not going to make this a rant about other people. Instead, I just want to write about this important aspect to training and being a budoka.
So, I ask: Is your training 'scary'?
What I mean by 'scary' and why it's in quotes really has to do with a feeling. Of course, for newer people, most aspects of our training is scary. We roll around, breakfall, get hit, kicked, twisted up and thrown around. Then, there are the array of weapons, some wood, some rubber, some plastic, and some metal. Some are even sharpened metal! So, yeah, on that note our training can be scary. But, I would like to emphasize the 'can be scary' over 'is scary'. The potential is there. Whether it really is, is something else.
When the young Hatsumi first met Takamatsu Soke, the feeling he got was of genuine fear. Now, it's important to note that Hatsumi was already an accomplished fighter, martial artist, with more training experience than the average martial artist alive today (seriously, read his bio). He also had grown up with an alcoholic, abusive father whom he had to physically subdue on more that one occasion. Hatsumi knew danger. Yet, this little, frail, old man named Takamatsu scared him down to his core.
Why?
Hatsumi knew nothing of Takamatsu Soke's background. He didn't know how much Takamatsu Soke had trained before and he didn't know of Takamatsu Soke's real life and death battles during his years traveling in China (a land going through change, where political battles, assassinations, rebellions, and even wars were rampant). He didn't know much of anything about Takamatsu Soke. Yet, when he met him, the fear that struck him told him this man was the real master, someone he could learn real budo from.
Hatsumi described training with Takamatsu Soke as always being unpredictable and dangerous. Takamatsu Soke would share tea with him one minute, and in the next he would be suddenly attacking him. And, I don't mean simply throwing out some flimsy fist. He really struck at him. Hatsumi said many times how he felt like Takamatsu Soke was going to kill him, yet he obviously never did.
Hatsumi describes one night, after training, he and Takamatsu Soke were walking on the street when Takamatsu Soke suddenly pulled out a live sword and began swinging at him!
Now, all these things would scare the crud out of most of us (well, probably ALL of us!). But, that came later, after the initial meeting where Hatsumi felt this fear. The rest was just validation of that fear!
In looking at the 35mm video of the late Takamatsu Soke training and teaching the apprentice Hatsumi, the movements don't seem all that 'scary'. In fact, on a general level, they really don't look much different from what one can experience in a Bujinkan dojo. When we look at the old videos of Hatsumi Soke, the actions are very violent looking. But, my opinion is that these were done after many rehearsals, to make something that more resembled a performance than Hatsumi Soke teaching. So, they are more like fight choreography from theater than 'real budo'.
What we see today is Hatsumi Soke moving very different from either of these two video examples. He moves fluid, natural, almost floating, as he dances about the uke very simply (well, as it looks anyway!), not doing any real physically strenuous action (unlike his younger days). The uke winces in great pain, struggles to maintain balance and structure, and eventually crashes to the mat. It doesn't look like much, yet the results are 'scary'. If you don't believe me, be his uke and you'll see...
Often in training with people, I find that their technique, how they move, is so far from 'scary' to be literally unbelievable as having anything to do with budo. I know that sounds bad and I am not trying to be insultive or pious in any way. I'm guilty of it myself at times. When someone is learning a technique for the first time, this is common and expected, because the student has to start and stop, keep adjusting, until they get the technical aspects correct.
But, eventually, the student has to move past this. Eventually, they have to put something else into their training. And, this has to happen relatively soon, not something to be reserved for years later. Their training has to have some reality, appropriate to the level they are, in order to have the right feeling of shinken, or real fighting. It has to have danger. Otherwise, it's not budo. If it's not budo, then what is it?
What makes me shake my head is when I see people training in such a way that they have no danger in their technique. When they have a cooperative uke, the problem compounds. They do some little thing, maybe even incorrectly, and the uke graciously 'assumes' it works and breaks their own structure, their own balance, and falls. The tori didn't break their structure and balance, the uke did it themselves. But, it looks like it works, so both are happy. I mean, the guy fell, right? The uke was too busy being nice, doing what he thinks he's supposed to do (i.e. lose balance and fall). So, nobody questions it.
But, was it 'scary'? I'm afraid not.
In being an uke on countless occasions for teachers whom I consider to be 'scary', I have come to the conclusion that there are 2 kinds of fear I experienced:
1. Fear of pain/injury
2. Fear of unknown
Now, psychologists will tell you the greatest fear is the unknown. I can honestly say this is true. When your teacher has you attack, you don't really know what he's going to do. There's fear and apprehension in your attack. Afterward, when he asks you to attack again, it's fear of pain that can create apprehension. But, it's a different fear. In retrospect, if you really look back on how you felt, the first fear was greater. Knowing what you will experience, even if it's pain, lowers the fear because the unknown is now known.
When you are drilling a known technique with your partner, like a technique from the Kihon Happo, there is little actual fear. You know what to expect. So, unless your partner inflicts pain as part of his technique, you have no fear. You simply do your attack and receive the results with your good ukemi. No danger there. And, no budo there, either.
So, in training, there has to be some fear. There has to be some pain. And, there has to be an element of the unknown. That's what is going to transform what you do to being closer to budo. You don't have to have a huge degree of pain and unknown, either. Just a little bit can go a long way. But, it's essential.
As teachers, we have to also create this in our teaching and to encourage it in our students. Allow a student to experiment. Push them to get past the uncomfortable feeling of invoking pain on their partner. Really hit through the body target. Really apply that gyaku until you get a tap. Really grab that flesh instead of just the gi jacket. It doesn't have to be extreme to be effective. Just a little bit to at least tell the uke's body that this is just a taste of what 'could' happen. And, watch the reaction. It will be pure, natural and real. It will be budo.
And, it will be 'scary'.
So, I ask: Is your training 'scary'?
What I mean by 'scary' and why it's in quotes really has to do with a feeling. Of course, for newer people, most aspects of our training is scary. We roll around, breakfall, get hit, kicked, twisted up and thrown around. Then, there are the array of weapons, some wood, some rubber, some plastic, and some metal. Some are even sharpened metal! So, yeah, on that note our training can be scary. But, I would like to emphasize the 'can be scary' over 'is scary'. The potential is there. Whether it really is, is something else.
When the young Hatsumi first met Takamatsu Soke, the feeling he got was of genuine fear. Now, it's important to note that Hatsumi was already an accomplished fighter, martial artist, with more training experience than the average martial artist alive today (seriously, read his bio). He also had grown up with an alcoholic, abusive father whom he had to physically subdue on more that one occasion. Hatsumi knew danger. Yet, this little, frail, old man named Takamatsu scared him down to his core.
Why?
Hatsumi knew nothing of Takamatsu Soke's background. He didn't know how much Takamatsu Soke had trained before and he didn't know of Takamatsu Soke's real life and death battles during his years traveling in China (a land going through change, where political battles, assassinations, rebellions, and even wars were rampant). He didn't know much of anything about Takamatsu Soke. Yet, when he met him, the fear that struck him told him this man was the real master, someone he could learn real budo from.
Hatsumi described training with Takamatsu Soke as always being unpredictable and dangerous. Takamatsu Soke would share tea with him one minute, and in the next he would be suddenly attacking him. And, I don't mean simply throwing out some flimsy fist. He really struck at him. Hatsumi said many times how he felt like Takamatsu Soke was going to kill him, yet he obviously never did.
Hatsumi describes one night, after training, he and Takamatsu Soke were walking on the street when Takamatsu Soke suddenly pulled out a live sword and began swinging at him!
Now, all these things would scare the crud out of most of us (well, probably ALL of us!). But, that came later, after the initial meeting where Hatsumi felt this fear. The rest was just validation of that fear!
In looking at the 35mm video of the late Takamatsu Soke training and teaching the apprentice Hatsumi, the movements don't seem all that 'scary'. In fact, on a general level, they really don't look much different from what one can experience in a Bujinkan dojo. When we look at the old videos of Hatsumi Soke, the actions are very violent looking. But, my opinion is that these were done after many rehearsals, to make something that more resembled a performance than Hatsumi Soke teaching. So, they are more like fight choreography from theater than 'real budo'.
What we see today is Hatsumi Soke moving very different from either of these two video examples. He moves fluid, natural, almost floating, as he dances about the uke very simply (well, as it looks anyway!), not doing any real physically strenuous action (unlike his younger days). The uke winces in great pain, struggles to maintain balance and structure, and eventually crashes to the mat. It doesn't look like much, yet the results are 'scary'. If you don't believe me, be his uke and you'll see...
Often in training with people, I find that their technique, how they move, is so far from 'scary' to be literally unbelievable as having anything to do with budo. I know that sounds bad and I am not trying to be insultive or pious in any way. I'm guilty of it myself at times. When someone is learning a technique for the first time, this is common and expected, because the student has to start and stop, keep adjusting, until they get the technical aspects correct.
But, eventually, the student has to move past this. Eventually, they have to put something else into their training. And, this has to happen relatively soon, not something to be reserved for years later. Their training has to have some reality, appropriate to the level they are, in order to have the right feeling of shinken, or real fighting. It has to have danger. Otherwise, it's not budo. If it's not budo, then what is it?
What makes me shake my head is when I see people training in such a way that they have no danger in their technique. When they have a cooperative uke, the problem compounds. They do some little thing, maybe even incorrectly, and the uke graciously 'assumes' it works and breaks their own structure, their own balance, and falls. The tori didn't break their structure and balance, the uke did it themselves. But, it looks like it works, so both are happy. I mean, the guy fell, right? The uke was too busy being nice, doing what he thinks he's supposed to do (i.e. lose balance and fall). So, nobody questions it.
But, was it 'scary'? I'm afraid not.
In being an uke on countless occasions for teachers whom I consider to be 'scary', I have come to the conclusion that there are 2 kinds of fear I experienced:
1. Fear of pain/injury
2. Fear of unknown
Now, psychologists will tell you the greatest fear is the unknown. I can honestly say this is true. When your teacher has you attack, you don't really know what he's going to do. There's fear and apprehension in your attack. Afterward, when he asks you to attack again, it's fear of pain that can create apprehension. But, it's a different fear. In retrospect, if you really look back on how you felt, the first fear was greater. Knowing what you will experience, even if it's pain, lowers the fear because the unknown is now known.
When you are drilling a known technique with your partner, like a technique from the Kihon Happo, there is little actual fear. You know what to expect. So, unless your partner inflicts pain as part of his technique, you have no fear. You simply do your attack and receive the results with your good ukemi. No danger there. And, no budo there, either.
So, in training, there has to be some fear. There has to be some pain. And, there has to be an element of the unknown. That's what is going to transform what you do to being closer to budo. You don't have to have a huge degree of pain and unknown, either. Just a little bit can go a long way. But, it's essential.
As teachers, we have to also create this in our teaching and to encourage it in our students. Allow a student to experiment. Push them to get past the uncomfortable feeling of invoking pain on their partner. Really hit through the body target. Really apply that gyaku until you get a tap. Really grab that flesh instead of just the gi jacket. It doesn't have to be extreme to be effective. Just a little bit to at least tell the uke's body that this is just a taste of what 'could' happen. And, watch the reaction. It will be pure, natural and real. It will be budo.
And, it will be 'scary'.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Laws, Rules & Purity
I'm going to try and express my thoughts regarding a topic of conversation with a friend from another martial art. Some of this could be merely semantics, play on words, but I think it raises important distinctions I find interesting and which help me to understand where I am on my own budo path.
For starters, I will say that in martial arts, and in everything, there are Laws, Rules and Purity. However, when we look at each one individually, we find that they don't always equal each other.
For the sake of this exploration, I will define what I perceive each of these to be and how they play in martial arts study.
By Laws, I am referring to those things that pertain to Natural Laws. What I mean is that gravity is a Natural Law. Time is a Natural Law (actual time, not the perception of it or the timing of things). Relativity is a Natural Law. You get the idea. These Laws simply are what they are. We can try to work against them, but eventually they win. The more we operate within those Laws, the more effective we are. At the same time, by having an innate understanding of them, we also can freely operate around them, and have that sense of predictability in what will happen next.
For example, if my uke throws a punch, projecting themselves forward onto a lead foot, I know that without the support of that lead leg or foot, the Law of Gravity will win. I can then choose to take away that support (attack the leg), change the direction of the strike away from the support of the leg (attack the arm), interrupt the attack so that the leg continues but the body stays behind (enter or jam the space), and so on. I 'know' that if the uke's movement isn't supported, then their balance will be sucked down by gravity. I also know that if their movement is inadequate, unbalanced, etc, then the line of gravity will pull them that direction. I can predict it and operate effectively within the effects of that Law.
Another example is when I move out of the way or receive my uke's strike. I know both our bodies will move relatively the same. Their strike will likely be faster, by nature, because my body takes time to recognize the incoming danger and react. As I move back, my rear leg is going to load up with my body weight and momentum. I have to either put force against my momentum to stop the movement or keep stepping with the other leg to catch and redirect the momentum to avoid tipping past my support base (leg) and falling victim to the Law of Gravity. At the same time, I have to redirect my momentum in time with moving my support (legs) to keep balance. If I can guide this momentum back around without having to load up my leg (resist the momentum and then push back), I find that suddenly my time shortens between receive and counter. For the uke, they are loading their lead leg as they project their strike, but they are easily able to keep tipping past the support of it and step forward again with the other side for a second strike. This gives them the advantage of doing more within a frame of time. This is where people get jammed up.
The Law of Time is consistent. A second is a second. A minute is a minute. Within that Law, we can operate in such a way that we are able to do more within that second or minute. However, if we spend our time trying to unload and push against the momentum we generated to get out of the way of the uke's strike, then when we start to move again, then next strike is already upon us. We have to learn how to guide our momentum so that we don't do this, to cut out the wasted time in fighting our own action. You can't change time, but you can change your timing.
Ok, you get where I'm going with that. So, now let's look at Rules. What I mean by Rules is simply the dictates of a technique or martial art. Sports have rules. They are there for a reason (safety and fairness). In techniques, Rules are there in how a technique is performed. It's practiced a certain way for a certain reason. Sometimes it is to work with a particular Law. Sometimes it's to fit a certain context (armored combat, for instance). Sometimes it is fitting with the philosophy of the ryuha or teacher (such as Aikido). Whatever the reason, Rules are there for people to follow, period. If they aren't, it doesn't mean the technique isn't efficient or follows the Natural Laws. It just didn't adhere to what the specific technique or kata dictates, or isn't fitting with the context presented, or possibly goes against the philosophy of the ryuha or teacher. An example can be from our own Gyokko Ryu. In this tradition, there are Rules that actually are written in the old densho documents. One of them refers to taking away the opponent's power, but sparing their life. This has to do with a philosophy or spiritual/religious belief. So, you would be going against it if you did a technique where you cut the head off your opponent. Or maybe you do a technique that involves killing an innocent person. That would probably go against most people's "rules", I'm sure! But, the technique itself could be efficient and effective and follow all the Natural Laws. Unless, of course, you find it violates Moral Law (killing of innocents, etc). But, that's another topic.
Lastly, I want to take a moment to discuss Purity. By Purity, I am simply referring to stripping away that which is unnecessary, which interferes, that which makes movement inefficient. For some, Purity is the pursuit of mastering the Rules of a technique, so that it confines to what the ryuha or master teaches (Purity of Form). This is what most martial arts are like. However, there is a different Purity. We have heard it described as being Zero, breaking the form, etc. However, in the pursuit of Purity, we can't confuse our breaking Rules with trying to break Laws. In fact, my opinion simply is that the pursuit of Purity is to clear the vision so that we see less of the Rules and more of the Laws. We understand movement on that level, because it follows naturalness. We don't resist, but yield to the Natural Laws and operate accordingly. By doing so, we discover a new world of possibilities that are not confined by Rules. We don't just do things because 'that's the way it's taught'. We understand why because it follows certain Laws (gravity, time, etc). We start to see how we can operate within those Laws and know when we've violated them (loss of balance, too much time lapse, lack of patience, etc). We can also manipulate circumstances so our uke also fights or violates these Laws (break their balance, cause them to take too much time, cause them to have to hurry, create panic and distraction, etc). When we are in accordance with Natural Law, and either allow or cause our uke to have to fall out of compliance with Natural Law, we gain immediate advantage. We can relax. We can adapt. We are free. We become Pure, in my opinion.
There's more to this that I can write, but I think this is something best left for introspection and self-discovery.
Happy training!
For starters, I will say that in martial arts, and in everything, there are Laws, Rules and Purity. However, when we look at each one individually, we find that they don't always equal each other.
For the sake of this exploration, I will define what I perceive each of these to be and how they play in martial arts study.
By Laws, I am referring to those things that pertain to Natural Laws. What I mean is that gravity is a Natural Law. Time is a Natural Law (actual time, not the perception of it or the timing of things). Relativity is a Natural Law. You get the idea. These Laws simply are what they are. We can try to work against them, but eventually they win. The more we operate within those Laws, the more effective we are. At the same time, by having an innate understanding of them, we also can freely operate around them, and have that sense of predictability in what will happen next.
For example, if my uke throws a punch, projecting themselves forward onto a lead foot, I know that without the support of that lead leg or foot, the Law of Gravity will win. I can then choose to take away that support (attack the leg), change the direction of the strike away from the support of the leg (attack the arm), interrupt the attack so that the leg continues but the body stays behind (enter or jam the space), and so on. I 'know' that if the uke's movement isn't supported, then their balance will be sucked down by gravity. I also know that if their movement is inadequate, unbalanced, etc, then the line of gravity will pull them that direction. I can predict it and operate effectively within the effects of that Law.
Another example is when I move out of the way or receive my uke's strike. I know both our bodies will move relatively the same. Their strike will likely be faster, by nature, because my body takes time to recognize the incoming danger and react. As I move back, my rear leg is going to load up with my body weight and momentum. I have to either put force against my momentum to stop the movement or keep stepping with the other leg to catch and redirect the momentum to avoid tipping past my support base (leg) and falling victim to the Law of Gravity. At the same time, I have to redirect my momentum in time with moving my support (legs) to keep balance. If I can guide this momentum back around without having to load up my leg (resist the momentum and then push back), I find that suddenly my time shortens between receive and counter. For the uke, they are loading their lead leg as they project their strike, but they are easily able to keep tipping past the support of it and step forward again with the other side for a second strike. This gives them the advantage of doing more within a frame of time. This is where people get jammed up.
The Law of Time is consistent. A second is a second. A minute is a minute. Within that Law, we can operate in such a way that we are able to do more within that second or minute. However, if we spend our time trying to unload and push against the momentum we generated to get out of the way of the uke's strike, then when we start to move again, then next strike is already upon us. We have to learn how to guide our momentum so that we don't do this, to cut out the wasted time in fighting our own action. You can't change time, but you can change your timing.
Ok, you get where I'm going with that. So, now let's look at Rules. What I mean by Rules is simply the dictates of a technique or martial art. Sports have rules. They are there for a reason (safety and fairness). In techniques, Rules are there in how a technique is performed. It's practiced a certain way for a certain reason. Sometimes it is to work with a particular Law. Sometimes it's to fit a certain context (armored combat, for instance). Sometimes it is fitting with the philosophy of the ryuha or teacher (such as Aikido). Whatever the reason, Rules are there for people to follow, period. If they aren't, it doesn't mean the technique isn't efficient or follows the Natural Laws. It just didn't adhere to what the specific technique or kata dictates, or isn't fitting with the context presented, or possibly goes against the philosophy of the ryuha or teacher. An example can be from our own Gyokko Ryu. In this tradition, there are Rules that actually are written in the old densho documents. One of them refers to taking away the opponent's power, but sparing their life. This has to do with a philosophy or spiritual/religious belief. So, you would be going against it if you did a technique where you cut the head off your opponent. Or maybe you do a technique that involves killing an innocent person. That would probably go against most people's "rules", I'm sure! But, the technique itself could be efficient and effective and follow all the Natural Laws. Unless, of course, you find it violates Moral Law (killing of innocents, etc). But, that's another topic.
Lastly, I want to take a moment to discuss Purity. By Purity, I am simply referring to stripping away that which is unnecessary, which interferes, that which makes movement inefficient. For some, Purity is the pursuit of mastering the Rules of a technique, so that it confines to what the ryuha or master teaches (Purity of Form). This is what most martial arts are like. However, there is a different Purity. We have heard it described as being Zero, breaking the form, etc. However, in the pursuit of Purity, we can't confuse our breaking Rules with trying to break Laws. In fact, my opinion simply is that the pursuit of Purity is to clear the vision so that we see less of the Rules and more of the Laws. We understand movement on that level, because it follows naturalness. We don't resist, but yield to the Natural Laws and operate accordingly. By doing so, we discover a new world of possibilities that are not confined by Rules. We don't just do things because 'that's the way it's taught'. We understand why because it follows certain Laws (gravity, time, etc). We start to see how we can operate within those Laws and know when we've violated them (loss of balance, too much time lapse, lack of patience, etc). We can also manipulate circumstances so our uke also fights or violates these Laws (break their balance, cause them to take too much time, cause them to have to hurry, create panic and distraction, etc). When we are in accordance with Natural Law, and either allow or cause our uke to have to fall out of compliance with Natural Law, we gain immediate advantage. We can relax. We can adapt. We are free. We become Pure, in my opinion.
There's more to this that I can write, but I think this is something best left for introspection and self-discovery.
Happy training!
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