Sunday, October 16, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
The Zero of Eight
First off, I deeply apologize for neglecting this blog for so long. I noticed my last entry was January 2nd! At any rate, here I am with a new topic to spill out my thoughts on - "The Zero Of Eight"
In our Bujinkan studies, we learn about something called Kihon Happo. The Kihon Happo are essentially 8 fundamental technique principles, although this has been toyed with to mean infinite (depending on how you write the kanji for "happo"). Our Soke has said that the number 8, when turned on it's side, is the universal symbol for infinity. So are the Kihon Happo.
However, as a student trying to learn this crazy art of Bujinkan Budo Taijutsu, we are brought back to the Kihon Happo as being 8 techniques. Although there are actually 2 different lists of Kihon Happo (the original version had a technique called Ura Gyaku Ken Sabaki Gata instead of what is commonly listed as Onikudaki), really the list has remained fairly consistent.
What is important to understand is the wording of Happo. The kanji "po" means "law" or "principle", not "technique" (-jutsu), "form" (waza/kata). That means the exact technique is not the point. The principle is. The fundamental lessons contained in each Kihon can be applied to a variety of technique variations. This is what I think is meant when the Kihon Happo are explained as being an infinite number of techniques. In addition, Toshitsugu Takamatsu (Hatsumi Soke's teacher), taught the Kihon Happo were the base of all martial arts. Certainly, he didn't actually mean the techniques themselves, as every martial art has their own unique version of each of them. But, rather, every martial art has techniques that use the same principles, strategies and concepts expressed by each of the Kihon Happo. This is also why Soke's teaching has been referred to as "Global Budo". It truly is universal!
However, within the Kihon Happo, every student is guided to strip away, layer by layer, all the external parts and levels of understanding so that they are able to develop the "kihon of the kihon", or the intricate little parts that make it all work the way Soke makes it work. This is an on-going process of deep study, patience and diligent practice with a good teacher. As one digs deeper into the study of these technique principles (i.e. "-po"), they begin to see them in all techniques. So, in essence, study of the Kihon Happo is really a study of all martial arts techniques.
This is what brings me to the point of this post. The 8 techniques of the Kihon Happo can be seen like the 8 spokes of a wheel. At the center is Soke. As budoka, we are seeking to develop strong "spokes" in our budo "wheel". However, ultimately, all the spokes are held together by the essence, the center, the Zero. This Zero is Soke. As we train, we are seeking to become like Soke in our understanding and expression of Soke. Of course, nobody can be like Soke, as we are all individual human beings. But, we can evolve to be as beautifully efficient in our taijutsu movement, which is why we study his movement.
So, practice well and continue to strip away the layers of each Kihon Happo. But, ultimately, allow yourself to see beyond each technique as being a seperate thing and strive to see the beauty of the whole. Strive to see the Zero of Eight.
Gambatte kudasai!
In our Bujinkan studies, we learn about something called Kihon Happo. The Kihon Happo are essentially 8 fundamental technique principles, although this has been toyed with to mean infinite (depending on how you write the kanji for "happo"). Our Soke has said that the number 8, when turned on it's side, is the universal symbol for infinity. So are the Kihon Happo.
However, as a student trying to learn this crazy art of Bujinkan Budo Taijutsu, we are brought back to the Kihon Happo as being 8 techniques. Although there are actually 2 different lists of Kihon Happo (the original version had a technique called Ura Gyaku Ken Sabaki Gata instead of what is commonly listed as Onikudaki), really the list has remained fairly consistent.
What is important to understand is the wording of Happo. The kanji "po" means "law" or "principle", not "technique" (-jutsu), "form" (waza/kata). That means the exact technique is not the point. The principle is. The fundamental lessons contained in each Kihon can be applied to a variety of technique variations. This is what I think is meant when the Kihon Happo are explained as being an infinite number of techniques. In addition, Toshitsugu Takamatsu (Hatsumi Soke's teacher), taught the Kihon Happo were the base of all martial arts. Certainly, he didn't actually mean the techniques themselves, as every martial art has their own unique version of each of them. But, rather, every martial art has techniques that use the same principles, strategies and concepts expressed by each of the Kihon Happo. This is also why Soke's teaching has been referred to as "Global Budo". It truly is universal!
However, within the Kihon Happo, every student is guided to strip away, layer by layer, all the external parts and levels of understanding so that they are able to develop the "kihon of the kihon", or the intricate little parts that make it all work the way Soke makes it work. This is an on-going process of deep study, patience and diligent practice with a good teacher. As one digs deeper into the study of these technique principles (i.e. "-po"), they begin to see them in all techniques. So, in essence, study of the Kihon Happo is really a study of all martial arts techniques.
This is what brings me to the point of this post. The 8 techniques of the Kihon Happo can be seen like the 8 spokes of a wheel. At the center is Soke. As budoka, we are seeking to develop strong "spokes" in our budo "wheel". However, ultimately, all the spokes are held together by the essence, the center, the Zero. This Zero is Soke. As we train, we are seeking to become like Soke in our understanding and expression of Soke. Of course, nobody can be like Soke, as we are all individual human beings. But, we can evolve to be as beautifully efficient in our taijutsu movement, which is why we study his movement.
So, practice well and continue to strip away the layers of each Kihon Happo. But, ultimately, allow yourself to see beyond each technique as being a seperate thing and strive to see the beauty of the whole. Strive to see the Zero of Eight.
Gambatte kudasai!
Sunday, January 2, 2011
New Year's Message for 2011 (Or my humble attempt at it)
Last year was the Year of the Tiger, which for many carried some kind of significance or symbolism in training. For me, it was a fun thing to ponder on, as the tiger is a symbol for earthly, physical attributes that include sensing danger, being practical, and so on. As the year started, many people were forming entire themes around this symbol. Soke's theme for 2010 was Rokonn Shoujou, which had many meanings including "Purify the Heart Through Laughter", but seemed to me to be more about the common phrase "Live, Laugh, Love". Considering Soke dyed his hair a vibrant purple, it would seem that he was admonishing us to not take ourselves seriously, to step out and live vibrantly. Of course, that's my interpretation.
But, even with all the themes and various blog posts by people who defined their 2010 training by these things, it seems we all ended up centering our training around our own needs and the needs of our individual training groups and dojos.
One thing I've especially noticed this year is just how different people are in the direction of their training. This is purely my thoughts, of which I found I am not alone by any means, but it would seem that what once started out as differences in training among individuals has now become differences in the training evolution between groups of people. This gap seems to have gotten wider and wider over the decades, but seems to me that there is an accelerated rate in just how different these things are. Each generation grows farther apart from each other. For example, you have two major evolutions going on that view kihon, or fundamentals, as either sticking to and perfecting the classic forms such as low, extended postures, extreme body mechanics and so on. Then, the other side views kihon as a process of using smaller movements, changes in space and angles in subtle actions, and so on. Some view these differences as simply as learning to move like Soke by training the way he used to in order to evolve to how he is now, or focusing on the biomechanics and specific principles to bypass the unnecessary to develop "Soke movement" in a streamlined manner. Both sides have valid points and many things can be learned from each. But, often this presents tension as each side believes they are on the right track and view the other with smirks and snickering. It really goes against the primary thing Soke created the Bujinkan for, a fellowship of buyu (warrior friends) to share and grow together in budo. It becomes disheartening when people are this way, as I feel it is the differences that present the bone yard of secrets and missing pieces to the puzzle. We truly need each other and to stop believing we hold the answers ourselves. Soke has shown us time and time again that just when we think we 'know', we really don't.
Soke announced at Daikomyosai that the theme for 2011 will be "Kihon Happo". Now, we know Kihon Happo is the name given for the eight techniques that define the base or foundation of our training. But, this is not necessarily true as you consider the importance of the Sanshin no Kata, Kamae, Ukemi Taihenjutsu, and other skills which also are foundational to our art. But, the Kihon Happo does serve as a base of techniques you apply with a partner in order to learn about how to affect an attacker. What is important to understand, however, is that it is not about the techniques, or it would be called Kihon Ha-jutsu ("jutsu" means technique). The term "po", as used in Happo, means 'law' or 'principle'. So, the Kihon Happo really are fundamental principles, not techniques. The techniques are just the vehicles or tools to explore those principles.
Now that I've cleared this up, here's the part that makes Soke the kind of man he is. When he announced the theme, he didn't write the kanji for Kihon Happo as we know it. He wrote them differently. To borrow from Jack Hoban's New Year message, 季 ("ki") can mean "season" or "end," 翻 ("hon") can mean "turn around" or "reverse," 初 ("ha") can mean "first time" or "basic" (it is also the first kanji of Hatsumi), and 崩 ("pou") can mean "collapse" or "break down."
So, to look at this from a narrow definition, it would seem Soke's "Kihon Happo" now has many meanings and one can spend the whole year trying to figure it out. Those who have their 'way' will surely come out with their seminar circuits geared around this theme and others will probably assume one thing or another and train accordingly. Only those who are training with Soke firsthand will have the opportunity to really know what he means by all of this. But, regardless, we each know what we need in our training and, by the end of 2011, most of us naturally will be focusing more on that than anything else.
However, in thinking about the new kanji for "kihon happo", I am reminded and enlightened on some perspectives which I would like to share in this new training year. Our seasons are a process of change, phases of evolution as each year goes by. It is a balance of growth and destruction, as one phase changes into the other. There is no defining line between each season and sometimes things like weather can show similarity to a former or future season. If you didn't have a calendar to tell you, would you be able to tell exactly when summer becomes fall, fall becomes winter, winter becomes spring, or spring becomes summer? With Kihon Happo, the same can be said. Soke and his teacher, the late Takamatsu Soke, said that the Kihon Happo are the basis for all martial arts, for all techniques. Can you tell when one begins or another begins? Can you separate the Kihon Happo by their physical characteristics in a kata or is it like trying to separate the seasons by their weather patterns? Remember, the Kihon Happo are not about techniques, or it would be a -jutsu, not -po. The other meaning to "ki" is end. But, end does not mean death. "End" can also mean to prepare the way for a beginning. It's the cleaning of the canvass to set the right moment or environment to create a true expression. It is crucial in becoming "zero", a concept that Soke has been teaching on for many years.
"Hon" as in reverse or turning around can be seen as the point in which you need to turn around and go back. Some things may be missed and you need to go back and find them before continuing. It also can be a reverse of perspective. Sometimes, when trying to solve a puzzle, taking a few moments to do something else and come back later can give a whole new perspective. Sometimes, taking a moment to put yourself in another person's shoes can allow you to see things from their perspective and give you a deeper understanding of yourself. Sometimes, going backwards can be going forwards. An old martial arts philosophy teaches that gaining a black belt is a process of dirtying your white belt through experience, but once it is black, the process then becomes the wearing away of the outer threads, the blackness or dirt, to strip away experience to return to the newness of being a white belt again. It's a forward/backward process of gaining and losing, of building and destroying, of death and rebirth. It is exactly how the seasons and all of life itself evolves through time.
"Ha", as in "first time" or "basic" really is important. There's something to be said about the vibrancy of being new, of experiencing something for the first time. Experience can rob us of that experience, as familiarity leads to numbness, boredom and blindness. For me, I think this is a reminder that we need to approach every aspect of training as if it is our first time, because it is. We are in winter. We experienced winter last year. We are about to experience spring. We experienced spring last year. Has this winter been the same as last winter? Will spring be exactly the same as last spring? It may 'seem' to be the same for some people, but is it really? Or is it just our perspective that can make it appear similar?
I enjoy the holidays every year. I'm like a kid sometimes about it. But, I also enjoy the new year, as we put away all our decorations, use the opportunity to clean our house, and look forward to what opportunities 2011 will have to offer. It's a feeling of renewal, of letting go of the past and looking forward to a fresh start. But, really, it only is one day later than yesterday. It's the new perspective that makes it what it is. It's a matter of choice and action. Imagine if we can be like this every day, every hour, every minute? Why does it take a calendar to tell us when? That attitude, to me, is a basic. It also is key in adding vibrancy to one's training and opens the eyes, mind and heart to gain the most out of every experience. It lies at the heart or root of our class motto "Shikin Haramitsu Daikomyo".
The last kanji, "Po", as in "break down" or "collapse" is interesting. From a technical perspective, one could see it along with "Ha" (basic) to mean 'breaking down a basic'. For many, this sorely needed. Many people are so busy following advanced concepts that they either have not broken down their basics enough or haven't done so in such a long time that their physical skills have deteriorated. It is a common critique in Japan that us Westerners have inadequate fundamentals. I remember being in Japan in 2007 when a black belt could even do a basic roll very well, not because of any physical illness or handicap, but from obvious lack of training. Yet, this person acted as the 'know it all' and even has a dojo with students! If he isn't training in basics enough in his own life, one can only imagine how much he pushes his students to do the same. Lead by example is still the most powerful influence.
So, how do we put all this in our own training direction for 2011? I don't know because I'm not Soke and I can't commute to his classes. But, for me, I think it is good to grab a few things and then continue with the needs of my own training and the training of those who look to me for guidance. I would like to challenge each of us to strip away our old views, to stop and turn around and look at the "same old" for what we may have missed. I also want to challenge us to approach our training as the new person seeing it all for the first time. Resist the tendency to just do things the way we've always done or understood them. Find the newness in the experience, as this isn't the same winter as last winter. I also think we need to keep breaking down our fundamentals, and break down all our techniques into their fundamentals.
Most important for me, however, is that this year there seems to be an emphasis on the space between the forms. There's the Kihon Happo, but there's the space that separates them from each other. Yet, it's like finding the space between Winter and Spring. There really is no space/kukan, as in emptiness. It's really a blur from one to another. So, it's really more about the transition, the change, since without transition you have no evolution, no life, and thus no budo. Just as in the differences in views regarding training direction, we also need to look at the space between the differences, to discover that it really isn't a space but a blur. We all gain from each other and enrich each other if we allow it to blur instead of creating a space, a dead spot, in our Bujinkan fellowship and connection to each other.
So, that's it. It's the connection and transition between the parts as each is connected to each other in a process of evolution, of constant newness of forward moving experiences and the power of looking back in reflection with the fresh eyes to discover what our blindness missed along the way.
Happy New Year!
But, even with all the themes and various blog posts by people who defined their 2010 training by these things, it seems we all ended up centering our training around our own needs and the needs of our individual training groups and dojos.
One thing I've especially noticed this year is just how different people are in the direction of their training. This is purely my thoughts, of which I found I am not alone by any means, but it would seem that what once started out as differences in training among individuals has now become differences in the training evolution between groups of people. This gap seems to have gotten wider and wider over the decades, but seems to me that there is an accelerated rate in just how different these things are. Each generation grows farther apart from each other. For example, you have two major evolutions going on that view kihon, or fundamentals, as either sticking to and perfecting the classic forms such as low, extended postures, extreme body mechanics and so on. Then, the other side views kihon as a process of using smaller movements, changes in space and angles in subtle actions, and so on. Some view these differences as simply as learning to move like Soke by training the way he used to in order to evolve to how he is now, or focusing on the biomechanics and specific principles to bypass the unnecessary to develop "Soke movement" in a streamlined manner. Both sides have valid points and many things can be learned from each. But, often this presents tension as each side believes they are on the right track and view the other with smirks and snickering. It really goes against the primary thing Soke created the Bujinkan for, a fellowship of buyu (warrior friends) to share and grow together in budo. It becomes disheartening when people are this way, as I feel it is the differences that present the bone yard of secrets and missing pieces to the puzzle. We truly need each other and to stop believing we hold the answers ourselves. Soke has shown us time and time again that just when we think we 'know', we really don't.
Soke announced at Daikomyosai that the theme for 2011 will be "Kihon Happo". Now, we know Kihon Happo is the name given for the eight techniques that define the base or foundation of our training. But, this is not necessarily true as you consider the importance of the Sanshin no Kata, Kamae, Ukemi Taihenjutsu, and other skills which also are foundational to our art. But, the Kihon Happo does serve as a base of techniques you apply with a partner in order to learn about how to affect an attacker. What is important to understand, however, is that it is not about the techniques, or it would be called Kihon Ha-jutsu ("jutsu" means technique). The term "po", as used in Happo, means 'law' or 'principle'. So, the Kihon Happo really are fundamental principles, not techniques. The techniques are just the vehicles or tools to explore those principles.
Now that I've cleared this up, here's the part that makes Soke the kind of man he is. When he announced the theme, he didn't write the kanji for Kihon Happo as we know it. He wrote them differently. To borrow from Jack Hoban's New Year message, 季 ("ki") can mean "season" or "end," 翻 ("hon") can mean "turn around" or "reverse," 初 ("ha") can mean "first time" or "basic" (it is also the first kanji of Hatsumi), and 崩 ("pou") can mean "collapse" or "break down."
So, to look at this from a narrow definition, it would seem Soke's "Kihon Happo" now has many meanings and one can spend the whole year trying to figure it out. Those who have their 'way' will surely come out with their seminar circuits geared around this theme and others will probably assume one thing or another and train accordingly. Only those who are training with Soke firsthand will have the opportunity to really know what he means by all of this. But, regardless, we each know what we need in our training and, by the end of 2011, most of us naturally will be focusing more on that than anything else.
However, in thinking about the new kanji for "kihon happo", I am reminded and enlightened on some perspectives which I would like to share in this new training year. Our seasons are a process of change, phases of evolution as each year goes by. It is a balance of growth and destruction, as one phase changes into the other. There is no defining line between each season and sometimes things like weather can show similarity to a former or future season. If you didn't have a calendar to tell you, would you be able to tell exactly when summer becomes fall, fall becomes winter, winter becomes spring, or spring becomes summer? With Kihon Happo, the same can be said. Soke and his teacher, the late Takamatsu Soke, said that the Kihon Happo are the basis for all martial arts, for all techniques. Can you tell when one begins or another begins? Can you separate the Kihon Happo by their physical characteristics in a kata or is it like trying to separate the seasons by their weather patterns? Remember, the Kihon Happo are not about techniques, or it would be a -jutsu, not -po. The other meaning to "ki" is end. But, end does not mean death. "End" can also mean to prepare the way for a beginning. It's the cleaning of the canvass to set the right moment or environment to create a true expression. It is crucial in becoming "zero", a concept that Soke has been teaching on for many years.
"Hon" as in reverse or turning around can be seen as the point in which you need to turn around and go back. Some things may be missed and you need to go back and find them before continuing. It also can be a reverse of perspective. Sometimes, when trying to solve a puzzle, taking a few moments to do something else and come back later can give a whole new perspective. Sometimes, taking a moment to put yourself in another person's shoes can allow you to see things from their perspective and give you a deeper understanding of yourself. Sometimes, going backwards can be going forwards. An old martial arts philosophy teaches that gaining a black belt is a process of dirtying your white belt through experience, but once it is black, the process then becomes the wearing away of the outer threads, the blackness or dirt, to strip away experience to return to the newness of being a white belt again. It's a forward/backward process of gaining and losing, of building and destroying, of death and rebirth. It is exactly how the seasons and all of life itself evolves through time.
"Ha", as in "first time" or "basic" really is important. There's something to be said about the vibrancy of being new, of experiencing something for the first time. Experience can rob us of that experience, as familiarity leads to numbness, boredom and blindness. For me, I think this is a reminder that we need to approach every aspect of training as if it is our first time, because it is. We are in winter. We experienced winter last year. We are about to experience spring. We experienced spring last year. Has this winter been the same as last winter? Will spring be exactly the same as last spring? It may 'seem' to be the same for some people, but is it really? Or is it just our perspective that can make it appear similar?
I enjoy the holidays every year. I'm like a kid sometimes about it. But, I also enjoy the new year, as we put away all our decorations, use the opportunity to clean our house, and look forward to what opportunities 2011 will have to offer. It's a feeling of renewal, of letting go of the past and looking forward to a fresh start. But, really, it only is one day later than yesterday. It's the new perspective that makes it what it is. It's a matter of choice and action. Imagine if we can be like this every day, every hour, every minute? Why does it take a calendar to tell us when? That attitude, to me, is a basic. It also is key in adding vibrancy to one's training and opens the eyes, mind and heart to gain the most out of every experience. It lies at the heart or root of our class motto "Shikin Haramitsu Daikomyo".
The last kanji, "Po", as in "break down" or "collapse" is interesting. From a technical perspective, one could see it along with "Ha" (basic) to mean 'breaking down a basic'. For many, this sorely needed. Many people are so busy following advanced concepts that they either have not broken down their basics enough or haven't done so in such a long time that their physical skills have deteriorated. It is a common critique in Japan that us Westerners have inadequate fundamentals. I remember being in Japan in 2007 when a black belt could even do a basic roll very well, not because of any physical illness or handicap, but from obvious lack of training. Yet, this person acted as the 'know it all' and even has a dojo with students! If he isn't training in basics enough in his own life, one can only imagine how much he pushes his students to do the same. Lead by example is still the most powerful influence.
So, how do we put all this in our own training direction for 2011? I don't know because I'm not Soke and I can't commute to his classes. But, for me, I think it is good to grab a few things and then continue with the needs of my own training and the training of those who look to me for guidance. I would like to challenge each of us to strip away our old views, to stop and turn around and look at the "same old" for what we may have missed. I also want to challenge us to approach our training as the new person seeing it all for the first time. Resist the tendency to just do things the way we've always done or understood them. Find the newness in the experience, as this isn't the same winter as last winter. I also think we need to keep breaking down our fundamentals, and break down all our techniques into their fundamentals.
Most important for me, however, is that this year there seems to be an emphasis on the space between the forms. There's the Kihon Happo, but there's the space that separates them from each other. Yet, it's like finding the space between Winter and Spring. There really is no space/kukan, as in emptiness. It's really a blur from one to another. So, it's really more about the transition, the change, since without transition you have no evolution, no life, and thus no budo. Just as in the differences in views regarding training direction, we also need to look at the space between the differences, to discover that it really isn't a space but a blur. We all gain from each other and enrich each other if we allow it to blur instead of creating a space, a dead spot, in our Bujinkan fellowship and connection to each other.
So, that's it. It's the connection and transition between the parts as each is connected to each other in a process of evolution, of constant newness of forward moving experiences and the power of looking back in reflection with the fresh eyes to discover what our blindness missed along the way.
Happy New Year!
Friday, October 8, 2010
Being "good" at budo
I have always said that in order to learn, you first have to have a reason. Without a context that directly relates to the person on a life-application level, the lesson is nothing more than mental masterbation. When I first started MA, I was in high school. I took up arts that meant the most to me to survive the typical high school fights. When I started BBT, I was moving into a career in law enforcement. I pursued my study of jujutsu and weapons as they related to what I would do or experience on the job. When I was in the military, I learned arts/skill sets that had to do with the brutal "kill or be killed" environment of being a soldier. Now, I train for personal peace, protection of family/friends, etc. During all those stages, being "good" meant being able to apply those skills in a manner that brought the results I wanted to attain. So, I never lost a school fight, I took down suspects, defended myself and others against a variety of real danger, used my skills to help train cops and soldiers and, now that those parts of my life are over, finding the physical benefits of my training help to bring a kind of inner peace and confidence that I can protect my loved ones if I needed to.
Thankfully, I've never had to experience war firsthand (only in training) and never had to take a life, ever. But, I knew I had the training to do so if I had to and accepted the reality that my occupations could put me in situations that required me to take a life. So, I trained for it with the mindset that it was for real.
I believe most people live sedentary, relatively safe lives - which is a great blessing. It also can be a danger as people can be numb to danger and prone to ambush. You can be "good" in the dojo, but when you leave you go back to your life of routines, schedules, obligations, etc. Without a direct application to something outside the dojo, I feel as if most of what we train on stays in the dojo. Think about it. Do you ever find yourself moving better only when you put on your keiko gi and walk onto the mat? Do you feel you are more in your element, as far as budo training goes, when you wear the funny, black PJ's and get among your budo buddies? Is that when you would say you are "good"?
I think this is where the clash of practical vs fantasy comes into play. Let's face it, we are all nerds on some level. Most of us got into BBT because of the silly ninja stuff, especially those of us who started back in the 80's when that fantasy dominated the martial arts world. But, it really is a clash of two worlds. People laugh at silly ninjas playing in the park. So, at some point, we have to grow up about martial arts. But, even with that, we have to find practical application to our day to day reality or we are continuing the fantasy.
So, when you look at qualifiers like being "good", you should also consider how it affects your day to day life and measure the positive with the negative, or no effect at all. What "good" is budo training when you simply leave it in the dojo?
Train hard, train smart, live happy!
Thankfully, I've never had to experience war firsthand (only in training) and never had to take a life, ever. But, I knew I had the training to do so if I had to and accepted the reality that my occupations could put me in situations that required me to take a life. So, I trained for it with the mindset that it was for real.
I believe most people live sedentary, relatively safe lives - which is a great blessing. It also can be a danger as people can be numb to danger and prone to ambush. You can be "good" in the dojo, but when you leave you go back to your life of routines, schedules, obligations, etc. Without a direct application to something outside the dojo, I feel as if most of what we train on stays in the dojo. Think about it. Do you ever find yourself moving better only when you put on your keiko gi and walk onto the mat? Do you feel you are more in your element, as far as budo training goes, when you wear the funny, black PJ's and get among your budo buddies? Is that when you would say you are "good"?
I think this is where the clash of practical vs fantasy comes into play. Let's face it, we are all nerds on some level. Most of us got into BBT because of the silly ninja stuff, especially those of us who started back in the 80's when that fantasy dominated the martial arts world. But, it really is a clash of two worlds. People laugh at silly ninjas playing in the park. So, at some point, we have to grow up about martial arts. But, even with that, we have to find practical application to our day to day reality or we are continuing the fantasy.
So, when you look at qualifiers like being "good", you should also consider how it affects your day to day life and measure the positive with the negative, or no effect at all. What "good" is budo training when you simply leave it in the dojo?
Train hard, train smart, live happy!
Monday, October 4, 2010
Reality vs budo training
I haven't written much in a while because, well, things have just been too busy. My training always takes priority over the 'net, so what free time I have I devote to my training.
Lately, I have seen growing discord between many different factions within the Bujinkan. As we all should be trying to study Soke's budo, we cannot help but be overwhelmed by just how incredibly confusing this is. Soke no longer teaches the raw fundamentals we are supposed to be training on. In fact, Soke rarely teaches any techniques. He talks in principles, philosophies and often times contradictions. That's not to say he isn't a true master, someone who we all should be looking to for guidance and inspiration. And, if we study and train long enough, eventually what appears to be confusing, contradicting messages from Soke start to make sense. We get a glimpse of something that strikes at the heart of our selves and our training. It's those moments that we all strive for because they empower us and give us insights that we need.
However, a major area of contention among my Bujinkan brothers and sisters is how we are supposed to follow Soke's teaching, especially in the areas of "no technique", being "zero", moving with relaxed flow, and so on - and still build and maintain a strong foundation of real combat skills. One side will argue that Soke and the Japanese Shihan have all experienced the raw, physically challenging aspects of the "old school" methods and that's why they can move so beautifully, with relaxed flow and gentleness, while still controlling their partner perfectly. The other side holds firm to the idea that they went through all of that hard training to learn you don't 'need' to do it in order to move the way they do now. They did it so we don't have to. They've made the mistakes and now teach us the correct way to bypass the long road for the direct.
In my own training, I seek to find a balance. I love to train in the deeper, more refined aspects of what my sempai, sensei and Soke teach. But, I also believe I need the conditioning and raw physical skills to be able to survive real danger. So, I gently take my uke's balance and throw him with little touch, yet next I will spend time breaking a sweat by pounding on the heavy bag. I will strike my uke as he flies over me, knocking him into strange body positions that make it difficult for him to land safely, challenging his ability to adapt. I will play with the spaces around my uke, causing his balance to change and opening up the next "safe space" for me to occupy so that he is always off balance. But, then I also believe those shots that happen during that space in time have the teeth behind them to really affect my uke.
At the same time, I also want to continue to develop my body to take the impact of hitting something that's solid. In addition, my own body needs to experience being hit, thrown, locked up and such so that I also build my adaptibility.
Then, there's the argument of whether or not to spar or use "aliveness" when training, to have your partner try to resist, counter and otherwise not be a "cooperative uke" (within safe reason).
I don't know what the answers are. I only know what my teachers teach me. I also know from my own experience what real danger is like - and what it does to somebody physically, mentally and spiritually. One has to train equally in all three of these areas to develop the adaptive ability to survive.
This, to me, is what the true meaning of Sanshin is.
How it applies to your own training, you have to decide. Just keep the balance right.
Lately, I have seen growing discord between many different factions within the Bujinkan. As we all should be trying to study Soke's budo, we cannot help but be overwhelmed by just how incredibly confusing this is. Soke no longer teaches the raw fundamentals we are supposed to be training on. In fact, Soke rarely teaches any techniques. He talks in principles, philosophies and often times contradictions. That's not to say he isn't a true master, someone who we all should be looking to for guidance and inspiration. And, if we study and train long enough, eventually what appears to be confusing, contradicting messages from Soke start to make sense. We get a glimpse of something that strikes at the heart of our selves and our training. It's those moments that we all strive for because they empower us and give us insights that we need.
However, a major area of contention among my Bujinkan brothers and sisters is how we are supposed to follow Soke's teaching, especially in the areas of "no technique", being "zero", moving with relaxed flow, and so on - and still build and maintain a strong foundation of real combat skills. One side will argue that Soke and the Japanese Shihan have all experienced the raw, physically challenging aspects of the "old school" methods and that's why they can move so beautifully, with relaxed flow and gentleness, while still controlling their partner perfectly. The other side holds firm to the idea that they went through all of that hard training to learn you don't 'need' to do it in order to move the way they do now. They did it so we don't have to. They've made the mistakes and now teach us the correct way to bypass the long road for the direct.
In my own training, I seek to find a balance. I love to train in the deeper, more refined aspects of what my sempai, sensei and Soke teach. But, I also believe I need the conditioning and raw physical skills to be able to survive real danger. So, I gently take my uke's balance and throw him with little touch, yet next I will spend time breaking a sweat by pounding on the heavy bag. I will strike my uke as he flies over me, knocking him into strange body positions that make it difficult for him to land safely, challenging his ability to adapt. I will play with the spaces around my uke, causing his balance to change and opening up the next "safe space" for me to occupy so that he is always off balance. But, then I also believe those shots that happen during that space in time have the teeth behind them to really affect my uke.
At the same time, I also want to continue to develop my body to take the impact of hitting something that's solid. In addition, my own body needs to experience being hit, thrown, locked up and such so that I also build my adaptibility.
Then, there's the argument of whether or not to spar or use "aliveness" when training, to have your partner try to resist, counter and otherwise not be a "cooperative uke" (within safe reason).
I don't know what the answers are. I only know what my teachers teach me. I also know from my own experience what real danger is like - and what it does to somebody physically, mentally and spiritually. One has to train equally in all three of these areas to develop the adaptive ability to survive.
This, to me, is what the true meaning of Sanshin is.
How it applies to your own training, you have to decide. Just keep the balance right.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
"The Center of Budo"
*** This week's training and some thoughts ***
This week I want to take a look at the center lines, crossing the T and other similar concepts and how it applies to kihon. This concept of unification is important in Japanese budo as it involves combining the body, mind and spirit into one singular presence. In Kendo (Japanese sport fencing), there are two main outer factors that one tries to control - the center line between you and your opponent, and the distance between you. On the ura, or inside, being able to do this requires fudoshin, an immovable spirit, so that you maintain control of this space, not to let yourself become controlled by anything. Then, when the distance shortens to striking range, whoever can maintain control of this center line will have a clean shot. However, the shot will be weak unless one knows how to instantly project their entire body, mind and will/spirit into the opponent in a powerful strike. No distraction. No hesitation. No wavering.
Now, don't mistake kendo for Bujinkan budo. As kendo is a sport for dueling, you are facing a singular opponent in a controlled environment where you need no other awareness other than yourself and your opponent. But, there are many lessons that are the same at their fundamental core. Of particular importance is this attitude of letting go of attachments. If you read the words of senior kendo teachers, you will find that their journey is one of purification, to strip away self limitations, distractions and attachments. They write about winning and losing meaning nothing compared to mastery over the self. Opponents come in all sizes, shapes and abilities. However, you are the only constant. Therefore, it is important to focus on the self and it starts and ends with control of the mind.
A renowned famous kendo master wrote about how when he was young, his body was strong and he won easily. As he got older, his legs became weaker, so he had to train his mind even more. As aged further, his upper body became weaker, so it became entirely about training his mind. Even when he was a venerable old man who appeared to barely move, his skill was so great that he was able to continue to defeat opponents easily simply because of the mastery of his mind and spirit.
In Bujinkan Budo Taijutsu, we work with many lines, many angles, many distances and many situations. However, I believe at the root of it all, the same elements exist. We are training ourselves to face danger with an unwavering heart, to have awareness through a detachment of all those things which distract (fear, anger, weapons, technique, etc), so that we can adapt to whatever happens. But, Soke being who he is, pushes us even further. Instead of throwing ourselves into a technique, we are pushed to let go of our "want" to "do" a technique and concepts like Chutohampa ("half done/incomplete"
One area that is a fundamental core to understanding budo taijutsu, whatever the martial art, is the hara. This is the point roughly 3 inches below your navel. In many Japanese budo arts, the center line and distance is related to the hara. No matter how the weapon is postured, the hara is still the main point of reference (of course, the effective range of the weapon is in the awareness). Imagine having a cord tied to the center of your obi knot (belt) and the other end tied to your uke's obi knot. The length of the cord is the maai and the cord is the center line. You can angle your body any way you want, take any kamae (posture), but the line is the same. Movement up this line is the most direct path to the uke, so control of this line is vital. As you angle yourself to their inside or outside, you control their ability to stay on this line in good kamae. When you have them in a position where they can't control this line without balance or effectiveness, then you have your suki or opening for attack. But, you have to then be able to have balance and control to move on this line without wavering from it or having your own balance and posture compromised. That is having perfect form and takes a strong mind, spirit and body mechanics.
In my own self reflection, I am finding that my own body is not as strong as it used to be in my younger days. My struggle has been to try and maintain that youthful vigor. Yet, it is a losing battle, as I know age will eventually win. The struggle comes in the mind, to accept how the body changes, how it is weak and vulnerable. Yet, as the body gets weaker with age, the mind can grow stronger and the spirit can become cleaner. The budo path really is about getting past the body. Our mind is the key.
See you in class!
This week I want to take a look at the center lines, crossing the T and other similar concepts and how it applies to kihon. This concept of unification is important in Japanese budo as it involves combining the body, mind and spirit into one singular presence. In Kendo (Japanese sport fencing), there are two main outer factors that one tries to control - the center line between you and your opponent, and the distance between you. On the ura, or inside, being able to do this requires fudoshin, an immovable spirit, so that you maintain control of this space, not to let yourself become controlled by anything. Then, when the distance shortens to striking range, whoever can maintain control of this center line will have a clean shot. However, the shot will be weak unless one knows how to instantly project their entire body, mind and will/spirit into the opponent in a powerful strike. No distraction. No hesitation. No wavering.
Now, don't mistake kendo for Bujinkan budo. As kendo is a sport for dueling, you are facing a singular opponent in a controlled environment where you need no other awareness other than yourself and your opponent. But, there are many lessons that are the same at their fundamental core. Of particular importance is this attitude of letting go of attachments. If you read the words of senior kendo teachers, you will find that their journey is one of purification, to strip away self limitations, distractions and attachments. They write about winning and losing meaning nothing compared to mastery over the self. Opponents come in all sizes, shapes and abilities. However, you are the only constant. Therefore, it is important to focus on the self and it starts and ends with control of the mind.
A renowned famous kendo master wrote about how when he was young, his body was strong and he won easily. As he got older, his legs became weaker, so he had to train his mind even more. As aged further, his upper body became weaker, so it became entirely about training his mind. Even when he was a venerable old man who appeared to barely move, his skill was so great that he was able to continue to defeat opponents easily simply because of the mastery of his mind and spirit.
In Bujinkan Budo Taijutsu, we work with many lines, many angles, many distances and many situations. However, I believe at the root of it all, the same elements exist. We are training ourselves to face danger with an unwavering heart, to have awareness through a detachment of all those things which distract (fear, anger, weapons, technique, etc), so that we can adapt to whatever happens. But, Soke being who he is, pushes us even further. Instead of throwing ourselves into a technique, we are pushed to let go of our "want" to "do" a technique and concepts like Chutohampa ("half done/incomplete"
One area that is a fundamental core to understanding budo taijutsu, whatever the martial art, is the hara. This is the point roughly 3 inches below your navel. In many Japanese budo arts, the center line and distance is related to the hara. No matter how the weapon is postured, the hara is still the main point of reference (of course, the effective range of the weapon is in the awareness). Imagine having a cord tied to the center of your obi knot (belt) and the other end tied to your uke's obi knot. The length of the cord is the maai and the cord is the center line. You can angle your body any way you want, take any kamae (posture), but the line is the same. Movement up this line is the most direct path to the uke, so control of this line is vital. As you angle yourself to their inside or outside, you control their ability to stay on this line in good kamae. When you have them in a position where they can't control this line without balance or effectiveness, then you have your suki or opening for attack. But, you have to then be able to have balance and control to move on this line without wavering from it or having your own balance and posture compromised. That is having perfect form and takes a strong mind, spirit and body mechanics.
In my own self reflection, I am finding that my own body is not as strong as it used to be in my younger days. My struggle has been to try and maintain that youthful vigor. Yet, it is a losing battle, as I know age will eventually win. The struggle comes in the mind, to accept how the body changes, how it is weak and vulnerable. Yet, as the body gets weaker with age, the mind can grow stronger and the spirit can become cleaner. The budo path really is about getting past the body. Our mind is the key.
See you in class!
Friday, May 28, 2010
Inspired by recent blog post from Arnaud Shihan...
Arnaud Shihan has posted another great blog entry at http://kumafr.
Arnaud Shihan cites Soke as saying the two opposites, dragon and tiger, aren't really in opposition, but in connection or in union with each other. It's the in/yo or yin/yang, the heaven and earth, etc relationship. But, tying it to the comment of dragon being about capturing/controlli
Anyway, take the time to consider the wisdom being presented in Arnaud's writing and how it relates to the "feel" of what Soke's budo is. If you look carefully enough, you'll see this duality between dragon and tiger. Then, find how you can learn from that and evolve your own training.
Gambatte kudasai!
. What stuck out for me was the line "We also learnt that the dragon was capturing while the tiger was hitting". This was an "ah-ha!" moment for me as I was pondering the duality of the dragon and tiger so common in martial arts and as the foundational part to the name of our own dojo Ryuu (dragon) Ko (tiger). In case you are wondering, the last part of our dojo name, Hikan, means secret scroll...
Arnaud Shihan cites Soke as saying the two opposites, dragon and tiger, aren't really in opposition, but in connection or in union with each other. It's the in/yo or yin/yang, the heaven and earth, etc relationship. But, tying it to the comment of dragon being about capturing/controlli
Anyway, take the time to consider the wisdom being presented in Arnaud's writing and how it relates to the "feel" of what Soke's budo is. If you look carefully enough, you'll see this duality between dragon and tiger. Then, find how you can learn from that and evolve your own training.
Gambatte kudasai!
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Another good writing on my weekly e-news...
*** This week's training ***
Focus will be on timing, as explored through the Kihon Koshi Sanpo Kata of Ichimonji no Kata, Jumonji no Kata and Hicho no Kata (not necessarily in that order). We will also explore some close range concepts and some evasion/survival techniques against a knife attacker.
This last topic is inspired by a violent stabbing last week that happened in nearby Folsom. I'm not talking Folsom Prison, or some inner city urban jungle, but the small city that is predominately a low crime bedroom community. A 13yr old boy attempted to steal a BB gun from the Folsom Wal-Mart store. The manager pursued the kid and grabbed him. The kid fought back and the manager, trying to use "appropriate" force without trying to hurt the kid, was attempting to restrain him. Suddenly and without warning, the kid pulled a knife (size/type unknown), repeatedly stabbed the manager in the upper body and fled. This wasn't a quick, little stab and run. The kid fully committed himself to the armed assault, as evidenced by the repeated stabbing and from witness statements. Luckily and fortunately, the manager has survived and is in good condition at the hospital. Fortunately, also, the kid's parents did the right thing and turned the kid over to local police, who are charging him with attempted murder and robbery.
From the news accounts, the kid is a pretty normal 13yr old on the outside. Yet, in an instant, he became a murderous attacker, armed with a knife and intent on using it. Shocked? Sad? Angry? Confused? Yeah, me too.
What if you had been there shopping with your family, or maybe alone? Where is your head, or awareness, at during a normal day at Wal-Mart or any other store? Imagine the scene, this kid, a young teen, stabbing this poor guy over and over. Maybe you don't see the knife and just see a manager trying to restrain a resistant kid. Would you help? Could you help? What level of force would you be willing to use? Remember, this kid is aggressively attacking with a knife. And, he's only 13.
There are those who might imagine themselves as the hero, jumping in and taking control, subduing the attacker and saving the manager. There are still those who immediately default to deadly force because, in essence, the kid is using deadly force. And, legally, they would be justified. Morally, however, the situation is complicated. Just as in all of life, nothing is black and white. It's always complicated, even if seemingly simple on the surface.
Now, I'm not going to sit here and pretend to be a "holier than thou" person and lecture you on what you "should do" or "should not do" in regards to your personal choices. In fact, the situation and the questions raised scare me to my very core and, even with all my experiences and training, I still wish to never have to face such things because I really don't know what I would do, how it would affect me or my loved ones. As warriors, we are protectors of life. We value the lives of our fellow humans. Yet, we also know that sometimes to save a life, a life might have to be taken. As warriors, we also accept that we may find ourselves in the unavoidable position of having to make that choice. We are always accountable for our decisions, so the responsibility isn't one to be taken lightly. Certainly none of us are in a position to judge anybody because we really don't know how we would handle such a scenario. We can imagine, we can theorize, we can train diligently on "appropriate" techniques, but the sudden "reality check" and shocking brutality of this kind of thing can bring out behaviors and choices in us that we could never have imagined. Sometimes it could be amazing feats of bravery and heroism. Sometimes it could be inaction caused by paralyzing fear. Then, no matter our action or inaction, the emotional impact in us, bystanders, and all others who are affected can also be just as unpredictable and damaging.
These kinds of violent acts exist in everyday life, in every part of the world, in every part of society, and with all kinds of people. None of us are immune to it. As warriors, always training, always aware, we need to take the time to read into these stories. We need to ask the hard questions of ourselves, to honestly assess ourselves, not just physically but mentally and spiritually.
And, we need to keep training.
See you in class!
Focus will be on timing, as explored through the Kihon Koshi Sanpo Kata of Ichimonji no Kata, Jumonji no Kata and Hicho no Kata (not necessarily in that order). We will also explore some close range concepts and some evasion/survival techniques against a knife attacker.
This last topic is inspired by a violent stabbing last week that happened in nearby Folsom. I'm not talking Folsom Prison, or some inner city urban jungle, but the small city that is predominately a low crime bedroom community. A 13yr old boy attempted to steal a BB gun from the Folsom Wal-Mart store. The manager pursued the kid and grabbed him. The kid fought back and the manager, trying to use "appropriate" force without trying to hurt the kid, was attempting to restrain him. Suddenly and without warning, the kid pulled a knife (size/type unknown), repeatedly stabbed the manager in the upper body and fled. This wasn't a quick, little stab and run. The kid fully committed himself to the armed assault, as evidenced by the repeated stabbing and from witness statements. Luckily and fortunately, the manager has survived and is in good condition at the hospital. Fortunately, also, the kid's parents did the right thing and turned the kid over to local police, who are charging him with attempted murder and robbery.
From the news accounts, the kid is a pretty normal 13yr old on the outside. Yet, in an instant, he became a murderous attacker, armed with a knife and intent on using it. Shocked? Sad? Angry? Confused? Yeah, me too.
What if you had been there shopping with your family, or maybe alone? Where is your head, or awareness, at during a normal day at Wal-Mart or any other store? Imagine the scene, this kid, a young teen, stabbing this poor guy over and over. Maybe you don't see the knife and just see a manager trying to restrain a resistant kid. Would you help? Could you help? What level of force would you be willing to use? Remember, this kid is aggressively attacking with a knife. And, he's only 13.
There are those who might imagine themselves as the hero, jumping in and taking control, subduing the attacker and saving the manager. There are still those who immediately default to deadly force because, in essence, the kid is using deadly force. And, legally, they would be justified. Morally, however, the situation is complicated. Just as in all of life, nothing is black and white. It's always complicated, even if seemingly simple on the surface.
Now, I'm not going to sit here and pretend to be a "holier than thou" person and lecture you on what you "should do" or "should not do" in regards to your personal choices. In fact, the situation and the questions raised scare me to my very core and, even with all my experiences and training, I still wish to never have to face such things because I really don't know what I would do, how it would affect me or my loved ones. As warriors, we are protectors of life. We value the lives of our fellow humans. Yet, we also know that sometimes to save a life, a life might have to be taken. As warriors, we also accept that we may find ourselves in the unavoidable position of having to make that choice. We are always accountable for our decisions, so the responsibility isn't one to be taken lightly. Certainly none of us are in a position to judge anybody because we really don't know how we would handle such a scenario. We can imagine, we can theorize, we can train diligently on "appropriate" techniques, but the sudden "reality check" and shocking brutality of this kind of thing can bring out behaviors and choices in us that we could never have imagined. Sometimes it could be amazing feats of bravery and heroism. Sometimes it could be inaction caused by paralyzing fear. Then, no matter our action or inaction, the emotional impact in us, bystanders, and all others who are affected can also be just as unpredictable and damaging.
These kinds of violent acts exist in everyday life, in every part of the world, in every part of society, and with all kinds of people. None of us are immune to it. As warriors, always training, always aware, we need to take the time to read into these stories. We need to ask the hard questions of ourselves, to honestly assess ourselves, not just physically but mentally and spiritually.
And, we need to keep training.
See you in class!
Monday, May 10, 2010
On training
(Copied from my dojo e-news for this week. I thought I hit on something really good and wanted to share it with my blog. Enjoy!)
This week we are going to continue to drill, drill, drill those basics into our bodies. I feel like our current pace and format is good. The intensity and physical demands set a good foundation for the rest of the class. I find everybody's bodies move better. An important training concept that's quickly becoming recognized as most efficient among fitness experts is this idea of quick, intense bursts of physical stress (with proper technique to avoid injury). Our friend Dan's budo fitness site http://www.warriorinshape.com/ has many great articles that focus on this training concept. As warriors, our bodies may be suddenly and instantly called into extreme physical action. We may go about our normal day for weeks, months, years living at our regular pace. Without warning, we could suddenly and violently be faced with extreme danger, causing a huge dump of endorphins into our system, as the "fight or flight" programming we are hard-wired with instantly kicks in. Our bodies need to be able to handle this sudden stress. Our consciousness needs to be able to adapt, recover and take charge of our bodies. We need to be able to move tactically and have the stamina to handle the physical demands we are faced with.
Then, just as quick as it started, it could end and we need to be able to recover from that as well. Recovery is at the root of ukemi and it begins with exposing our bodies and minds to sudden demands in bursts.
This brings me to another important point - making ourselves train. Our classes are on a weekday, after we've all worked long, stressful hours. We are tired, maybe sore, and I'm sure our brains are wiped out. I know that for most, one of the last things we truly want to do is to be hit and thrown around a mat for a couple hours. Yet, we do. I think this is also an important concept. Danger almost always comes when we are at our weakest moment, when our attention is focused elsewhere, when our bodies are tired, hungry, injured and unprepared. Yet, at that instant, the danger takes over the entire situation and we have to suddenly act. I believe some of the best training comes from those nights when you really don't want to train, yet force yourself to go and just throw yourself into it. Both body and mind are being pushed. The lessons learned go far beyond the technical aspect of the class. And, when you've made yourself train on those nights, don't you always feel good afterward and happy you went?
Life creates far more reasons and opportunities to not train than to get out and train. It becomes easy to put it off another day, another week, another month, and even another year. Yet, if we truly want to call ourselves martial artists, even warriors, we need to make training a priority, not just for our own protection, but the protection of those we love. This is why we show up when most go home. This is what separates us from the rest of society. This is why to be a real budoka (student of martial arts) you also have to strive to be a Tatsujin, or complete human being, a gentleman, one who lives to a higher purpose. It starts with the attitude towards training the body, the mind and one's spirit, every day, every opportunity, every second.
Just like finding the kukan, or tactical space, in a technique and operating within it, we also have to find the kukan in our lives and train within it. Know when it's there and get in it. Know when it moves, find it, then move in it again. There is always kukan if you take the time and have the desire to find it. It's always up to you.
This is what is meant by the term "Gambatte" or "Keep Training"! It's a way of living, not an interruption to it...
This week we are going to continue to drill, drill, drill those basics into our bodies. I feel like our current pace and format is good. The intensity and physical demands set a good foundation for the rest of the class. I find everybody's bodies move better. An important training concept that's quickly becoming recognized as most efficient among fitness experts is this idea of quick, intense bursts of physical stress (with proper technique to avoid injury). Our friend Dan's budo fitness site http://www.warriorinshape.com/ has many great articles that focus on this training concept. As warriors, our bodies may be suddenly and instantly called into extreme physical action. We may go about our normal day for weeks, months, years living at our regular pace. Without warning, we could suddenly and violently be faced with extreme danger, causing a huge dump of endorphins into our system, as the "fight or flight" programming we are hard-wired with instantly kicks in. Our bodies need to be able to handle this sudden stress. Our consciousness needs to be able to adapt, recover and take charge of our bodies. We need to be able to move tactically and have the stamina to handle the physical demands we are faced with.
Then, just as quick as it started, it could end and we need to be able to recover from that as well. Recovery is at the root of ukemi and it begins with exposing our bodies and minds to sudden demands in bursts.
This brings me to another important point - making ourselves train. Our classes are on a weekday, after we've all worked long, stressful hours. We are tired, maybe sore, and I'm sure our brains are wiped out. I know that for most, one of the last things we truly want to do is to be hit and thrown around a mat for a couple hours. Yet, we do. I think this is also an important concept. Danger almost always comes when we are at our weakest moment, when our attention is focused elsewhere, when our bodies are tired, hungry, injured and unprepared. Yet, at that instant, the danger takes over the entire situation and we have to suddenly act. I believe some of the best training comes from those nights when you really don't want to train, yet force yourself to go and just throw yourself into it. Both body and mind are being pushed. The lessons learned go far beyond the technical aspect of the class. And, when you've made yourself train on those nights, don't you always feel good afterward and happy you went?
Life creates far more reasons and opportunities to not train than to get out and train. It becomes easy to put it off another day, another week, another month, and even another year. Yet, if we truly want to call ourselves martial artists, even warriors, we need to make training a priority, not just for our own protection, but the protection of those we love. This is why we show up when most go home. This is what separates us from the rest of society. This is why to be a real budoka (student of martial arts) you also have to strive to be a Tatsujin, or complete human being, a gentleman, one who lives to a higher purpose. It starts with the attitude towards training the body, the mind and one's spirit, every day, every opportunity, every second.
Just like finding the kukan, or tactical space, in a technique and operating within it, we also have to find the kukan in our lives and train within it. Know when it's there and get in it. Know when it moves, find it, then move in it again. There is always kukan if you take the time and have the desire to find it. It's always up to you.
This is what is meant by the term "Gambatte" or "Keep Training"! It's a way of living, not an interruption to it...
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Shidoshi Alex Bushman's "Back From Japan Review" was a blast!
Thursday was great training at Barry's dojo in North Highlands with our buyu Alex who just returned from Japan. He shared many insights and lessons. One benefit of going to Japan during the non-peak season is that you get more personal time with top teachers and Alex was able to spend one on one time with Someya Shihan and even a personal lesson from a long time California native who now lives in Japan. The nice thing about training in that environment (and training with those who come back from that environment) is that you get things that otherwise are not taught or focused on during the busier times of year, when classes are crowded and there's little personalized attention or candid moments.
One thing that Alex brought back was the comments he heard about how there are parallel evolutions happening between how training in Japan is going and how the rest of the world (i.e. the rest of us) is evolving. There seems to be a distinct directional difference in how this art is filtered and transmitted outside of Japan that can cause a lot of confusion and misdirection. This happens for many reasons, some innocent (cultural differences/levels of understanding) and some not so innocent (personal agendas, etc). This affects the way many foreigners are taught when they come to Japan. This is not to mean that we are all doing things wrong, but having an awareness and honesty about our training is probably the more crucial point. Alex mentioned that when we see or hear different things from Japan, it doesn't mean that we have to suddenly drop everything and change the way we train. Rather, it all is a process of guided evolution and it is far healthier to simply adjust the direction, like guiding a river. We have to always keep going, keep training, so we are always making small adjustments to steer on course. This is why we need to always train with the right people, to always expose ourselves to the Japan training (directly ourselves, or indirectly by training with those who are going). But, we also need to be responsible for our own training, to develop our own "eyes" to "see" the difference.
This ties into another point Alex mentioned. Japanese training focuses heavily on proper kihon, or fundamentals. It seems "the rest of us" have a habit of placing the emphasis on the next level, not the core of what makes it all work. I've seen this myself. In Japanese training, what is considered "advanced" is really to dig deeper and deeper into the kihon, to break things down more and more, like going from cellular to molecular and beyond. The tendency for "the rest of us" is to actually move farther and farther away, to expand and enlarge, so that we are only doing one variation after another without any detailed analysis of the dynamics. It really is a contrast in evolutionary direction and why there are so many who want to promote the flashy side of their training. In reality, the "real" training is actually very boring and non-flashy because the amazing part lies in the ura, or the hidden, subtle parts that really can only be experienced firsthand.
This is why in my classes, I've preferred to really only focus on the kihon. I've seen the breakdown in fundamentals when people get into the flashy side of this art. I also have had my decision reinforced over and over when I've trained with my teachers and especially when I experienced Japan training myself. I will always be the first to admit how inadequate my own kihon is. Since I, just like so many others, do not train near enough, how can I even consider focusing on anything else but my own kihon? Kihon may not be pretty, may not be exciting for some, but the time invested is well worth the effort and attention if it evolves my own taijutsu at least in a remotely similar direction to how things are done in Japan. That is, after all, why I choose to first be a student of the Bujinkan, a Japanese martial art. Otherwise, I really am no longer a student, but just one of the countless others who are doing "their own thing", no matter what I might promote myself as. It certainly would be far more comfortable and popular, just not honest.
Alex also covered interesting aspects of the tachi, or Japanese great sword, and the yari, or spear. Many good points came from those weapons, but again the key was a focus on the kihon.
Overall, it was a great class and we had so many good friends show up, some as far as Oakland. The rain pounded heavily on Barry's metal roof and my foot got soaked getting from my truck to the front door. But, all that was nothing compared to the reward of being there.
One thing that Alex brought back was the comments he heard about how there are parallel evolutions happening between how training in Japan is going and how the rest of the world (i.e. the rest of us) is evolving. There seems to be a distinct directional difference in how this art is filtered and transmitted outside of Japan that can cause a lot of confusion and misdirection. This happens for many reasons, some innocent (cultural differences/levels of understanding) and some not so innocent (personal agendas, etc). This affects the way many foreigners are taught when they come to Japan. This is not to mean that we are all doing things wrong, but having an awareness and honesty about our training is probably the more crucial point. Alex mentioned that when we see or hear different things from Japan, it doesn't mean that we have to suddenly drop everything and change the way we train. Rather, it all is a process of guided evolution and it is far healthier to simply adjust the direction, like guiding a river. We have to always keep going, keep training, so we are always making small adjustments to steer on course. This is why we need to always train with the right people, to always expose ourselves to the Japan training (directly ourselves, or indirectly by training with those who are going). But, we also need to be responsible for our own training, to develop our own "eyes" to "see" the difference.
This ties into another point Alex mentioned. Japanese training focuses heavily on proper kihon, or fundamentals. It seems "the rest of us" have a habit of placing the emphasis on the next level, not the core of what makes it all work. I've seen this myself. In Japanese training, what is considered "advanced" is really to dig deeper and deeper into the kihon, to break things down more and more, like going from cellular to molecular and beyond. The tendency for "the rest of us" is to actually move farther and farther away, to expand and enlarge, so that we are only doing one variation after another without any detailed analysis of the dynamics. It really is a contrast in evolutionary direction and why there are so many who want to promote the flashy side of their training. In reality, the "real" training is actually very boring and non-flashy because the amazing part lies in the ura, or the hidden, subtle parts that really can only be experienced firsthand.
This is why in my classes, I've preferred to really only focus on the kihon. I've seen the breakdown in fundamentals when people get into the flashy side of this art. I also have had my decision reinforced over and over when I've trained with my teachers and especially when I experienced Japan training myself. I will always be the first to admit how inadequate my own kihon is. Since I, just like so many others, do not train near enough, how can I even consider focusing on anything else but my own kihon? Kihon may not be pretty, may not be exciting for some, but the time invested is well worth the effort and attention if it evolves my own taijutsu at least in a remotely similar direction to how things are done in Japan. That is, after all, why I choose to first be a student of the Bujinkan, a Japanese martial art. Otherwise, I really am no longer a student, but just one of the countless others who are doing "their own thing", no matter what I might promote myself as. It certainly would be far more comfortable and popular, just not honest.
Alex also covered interesting aspects of the tachi, or Japanese great sword, and the yari, or spear. Many good points came from those weapons, but again the key was a focus on the kihon.
Overall, it was a great class and we had so many good friends show up, some as far as Oakland. The rain pounded heavily on Barry's metal roof and my foot got soaked getting from my truck to the front door. But, all that was nothing compared to the reward of being there.
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