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'.

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