My thoughts on Kaname かなめ

Soke has said this year that a main theme is this idea of 'kaname'. So far, I have heard it explained as pertaining to connections, transitions, and such things. I'm not going to pretend to even know what Soke means by such words. However, in my own study I have found an important meaning and, in my own current state of development in my budo path, it has come at an important time.

The kanji for 'kaname' is かなめ. The conventional interpretation is 'pivot' and 'vital point'. Now, I know by 'vital point', we aren't talking about kyusho, or the weak points of the body. Rather, this has more to do with a deeper meaning within a technique.

Every technique has actions, or sequence of specific movements. Those movements often are dependent on certain conditions to exist that make those movements logical and fitting to work properly. If those conditions change, the movement may no longer be appropriate. So, in the beginning training, it becomes important to focus on the correct attack so that the conditions are correct for the technique.

But, there is a deeper, more significant point here. In every action, there are points which are optimum for a counter or response. Every action has a weakness, or hole. Every action has a beginning and ending (timing). Every action has a line of force (angling). Every action has a range of effectiveness (distancing). Every time the body moves, there are always points it is balanced and not so balanced (kamae). And, when combined together, every attack by an uke has a specific 'kaname' when they are most vulnerable and the tori is most safe.

Even as an attack unfolds, you will see there is a specific point when the attack can be interrupted, manipulated, destroyed, and drained of power. Finding this moment is a search for 'kaname', the 'vital point'. It can also be another way to look at something else Soke has mentioned this year - the 'kyusho in the kukan'. But, although related, that's another topic for exploration.

When one looks at training from the perspective of finding that 'kaname', the techniques aren't what is seen anymore. The vision changes to present a different image. It's like the famous picture by the unknown artist where it is either a beautiful woman or an old woman depending on which you see first, but after a few minutes or so you can then see the other. The picture is the same, but your perspective now can see two pictures. Its not about the ink on the page (technique), but something deeper. It becomes a study of our own perspective instead.

For me and where I am at with my own training, I believe I am at my own 'kaname'. My vision is pivoting between technique and that mysterious place beyond technique. In class, because many of my students are new, I am focused on teaching them techniques, the tools they need their bodies to learn. But, for those who are more advanced, and especially for my own training, I want to develop a stronger sense to find this 'kaname' on an instinctual level - and develop my own taijutsu to operate within this 'vital point'. This last part is important, as it involves always being in this 'kamae', always in position to keep moving (tsugi), and constantly adjusting without sacrificing balance and power.

It's a challenging goal ahead for me and I'm looking forward to taking it on.

Gambatte!
 
 

Fumbling With A Topic (or should I "ought" to?)

I had a great conversation recently with a friend regarding individuals seeking martial arts training and whether they 'ought to'.  This led me to some deep thought and I would like to share with you my personal feelings regarding this.  I apologize if some of what I write offends anybody or seems harsh, but it's important to look at these things with a mature attitude.

For starters, let's take a look at history.  Martial arts came about because of the issue of violence.  It wasn't about trying to better ones' self, unlock some deep mystery about life and death, or build a vast network of McDojo schools.  In fact, martial arts were really a quest for survival skills that allowed one to be able to live through violence, whether in war, defending one's village and family, and defending one's self from an attacker.  It also included how to attack as a necessity for survival.  Some of this came from hunting skills to acquire food without gettung hurt or killed in the process.  It also evolved into protection from wild animals and other tribes looking to conquer and steal resources.  It was survival at it's most basic.

Eventually, military sciences were born from that, as groups became more sophisticated and societies developed.  Unit tactics evolved into a mainstream of training.  But, at the core, individual skills were still practiced, developed and nurtured.  Old veteran fighters shared their experiences with younger fighters and those who made a name for themselves became teachers as their trade.  Young warriors would hear of these people and seek out their guidance.  Some would be fortunate enough to have these teachers as part of their military group or society, so they had regular access to a quality teacher.  But, as warriorship became a trade or full time occupation, where personal skills were not just for success on the battelfield, but as a way to gain fame and status, early martial artists set out to increase their skills through training and challenges.  To find the best teachers, they would travel far, endure personal hardships, often becoming injured and sometimes even dying in the process.

But, finding a teacher didn't automatically mean you would be accepted as a student and certainly many young men were turned away, even if they gave up everything and went through immense sacrifice to get there.  Many also gave all to pursue notable teachers, only to find out the rumors and legends were either false or grossly overstated, including many frauds and cult leaders.  Some even discovered their great "master" was purely fictional.

Those who were fortunate enough, had the right "stuff", and were accepted as a student gave their lives to the training - because they knew what it took to get this opportunity.  Their teacher represented an ideal they sought for themselves, whether it was a specific style of swordsmanship, grappling, sticks and long staves, or whatever.  The whole thing even evolved into spiritual/religious training, where teachers were not just teaching fighting skills, but also spiritual guidance and lifestyle.  Some arts even dropped the combat aspect of their training to become entirely about personal development, spiritual practices, and such.

I say all this to illustrate the point that, historically, to be a budoka (martial artist) was a real thing.  It took personal courage, sacrifice and hard work.  There were no guarantees and sometimes people were simply not accepted for a variety of reasons.  In today's martial arts, most of the time whoever is willing to show up and pay tuition is automatically accepted into the class, whether that person really 'should' be part of the class.

In the Bujinkan, we have guidelines.  As part of those guidelines, it is made very clear that those with mental illness, bad character and criminal histories are supposed to be turned away.  This is important for reasons that should not need clarification.

But, what isn't mentioned is that not everybody is suited for this kind of training.  There are people who want to take up all sorts of things, but it doesn't mean that they are suited for all things.  That doesn't mean they couldn't be, either.  It just means that maybe *right now* they are not suited for it (unless the reason is such that it will always be a factor).  I'm not suited to climb a 1k meter rock face.  But, I could train for it, learn the techniques, and one day actually do it.  But, I couldn't go out right now and just start climbing.  Not successfully, anyway, and not without a high amount of personal risk.  I'm simply not ready yet.

There are people who come to a martial arts dojo and want to learn martial arts.  That's wonderful.  But, they may have deeply rooted emotional or health issues.  Maybe they were a victim of a terrible violent crime and they still have issues to work through regarding violence.  Would subjecting them to controlled violence on the mat be appropriate?  Some say so.  Some also say it could tip the balance and incur an emotional damage, a "re-victimization".  That's not a healthy approach to learning martial arts.

Compare that to someone who is terribly overweight, with zero physical fitness, who has a sedentary life and consumes all the wrong foods.  Would they be doing themselves the best good by continuing their bad habits, but coming to the dojo to learn martial arts?  Some think so (it is exercise, after all).  Some think you should at least prepare your body first for the training.

I write about this because these things are important to consider.  A teacher is supposed to look out for the best interest of their student, right?  So, would telling a student they really should go get a psychological evaluation first, to make sure they are emotionally and mentally able to benefit from training, be in line with looking out for the best interest of the student candidate?  Or maybe telling the terribly unhealthy student candidate they should condition their body a bit before taking on the demands of training, which not only will offer them a far better training experience, but also start them on a path towards increasing their health (since their own unhealthy lifestyle is a far greater danger)?

Some people would disagree.  Some would say their dojo training would encompass those things (yes, even 'healing').  I tend to lean towards disagreement with that thinking, at least for the classes I teach.  In my class, I train fighters.  I train people who are there to learn how to protect themselves and others from real violence.  We talk plainly about the violence and we explore a variety of situations that involve really brutal aspects.  This isn't to glorify the violence or build ego.  Rather, it's a mature approach to "why" we train.  I'm not a priest, I'm not a therapist, I'm not a fitness coach.  I'm a budoka.

And, I'm not judging any specific individual or group on their choice to train - and who to train.  I'm simply doing a bit of literary pondering on this subject.

For me, I prefer to surround myself with those who are great examples of budoka, who continue to push hard to overcome their obstacles, and have the internal balance, guts, capacity and talent that shows they are exactly where they "ought" to be.  They motivate, inspire and keep me going even when I start to question if I'm where I "ought" to be!

And, if I feel somebody isn't suited *right now* (or ever) for this kind of training, I believe it is my responsibility to turn them away.  I may even start their training by giving them a goal to be accepted in the class, such as spending a couple months in a fitness regimen (with obvious results), getting a doctor's clearance, getting a psychological evaluation, etc.

Comments regarding recent class training... :-)

For those who have been coming to class last week and this week, you'll notice the emphasis has been on using the hip. The hip is known in Japanese as "koshi", just like Koshi Nage means "hip throw", etc. However, if it is written a little differently, then we have "kosshi", which means "essence" or "marrow (center of bone)" or "essentials".

When we speak of "marrow" as in the skeleton, we are not confusing koppo, which relates to bone. In fact, the kanji "ko" in both koshi/kosshi and koppo is actually Kotsu, which means "bones". It's equally interesting to note that in Zen Buddhism, a Kotsu is a wooden scepter awarded by a teacher to a disciple when they have been granted permission to teach. It has an s-shaped curve, like a human spinal column. So, here we see the connection between the hips and the spine, which is also very evident as a core of movement behind Soke's budo.

What is important to understand is that the first three kata of the Kihon Happo are called Koshi Sanpo, not Kosshi Sanpo, although there are some versions that mix the two.

What I have discovered is that there isn't any difference between "kosshi" (essence) and "koshi" (hip). In fact, I have learned that in taijutsu, the essence or foundation of movement and power comes from the hip.

This was the first point of my training.

Whether you are doing ground or standing techniques, with or without weapons, the role of the hip is paramount. It controls the angle or plane of the body, provides the stability and balance, and powers the strikes. When we move off the base of our hips, our balance suffers. When we strike without our hips, our power suffers. When we attack our uke's hips or take away the balance, stability and power of their hips, they become vulnerable. Therefore, if you look at controlling the hips (yours and your uke's), you see the essence inside a technique.

The second point I have made in class is the topic of "sensory information". Your body perceives, adapts and learns through what it feels. Your mind, although it can control the body, operates seperately. This is why you have subconscious actions that happen when the conscious mind is distracted or 'turned off'. In the beginning of class, we worked on what I call "survival training". These are ground defense techniques that are physically challenging, with plenty of sensory information. They get internalized quickly because of the amount of data the body is receiving through the physical contact involved. Then, when we do our standing taijutsu, we do drills that involve the whole body, to provide more sensory information data your body will internalize.

What's important to note here is that your taijutsu relies on sensory data. In early training, this data needs to be physical. As we advance, our bodies become adept at perceiving sensory data that is less and less physical, as displayed in the sakki test given for godan ranking.

In our training, we look to also use this against our uke. By using softer movement and contact, we strip away what sensory data we give our uke. By lowering our kamae, changing angles to "off" angles, etc, we deprive the uke's subconscious of the sensory data it needs to adapt. When there is a lack of data, all that remains is confusion. Even a simple thing like a wide stance provides data. For example, stand at punching distance to your partner and look at his face. You will only see the upper torso of his body with your field of vision. However, if they extend a leg or arm out any direction, it expands their body into your field of vision, giving you more data. So, you can see how wide postures actually provide more sensory information the subconscious mind uses to adapt the body. Narrow postures and correct positioning/distancing/angling reduce the amount of data and confuses the uke's ability to adapt subconsciously. They have to look, to make a conscious act, in order to gain information. That gives you the timing gap you need to do something else. You can also provide false information so that they adapt incorrectly, but that's a further expansion on the topic we may approach later.

I hope this makes sense and helps you to understand what we are doing in class.


Gambatte!

Reflections on 2011...

As 2011 winds down to the last few days and a new year is right around the corner, I am finding myself reflecting on the past year and how that has shaped going into 2012.  Our Soke (grandmaster) dedicated 2011 to "Kihon Happo", with his usual play on kanji to provide alternate meanings and deeper significance.  For 2012, he announced the theme would center on "ken" or sword, with possibly longer weapons like yari (spear) and naginata (polearm).  However, as history has shown, what he actually teaches throughout the year will likely take many twists and turns, like following a good mystery story.

And that's just the point.

The mystery of Soke's budo is as elusive and subtle as a butterfly, yet as hard hitting and sometimes overwhelming as a bull.  Those who try to keep up with him only find themselves lost and confused, but struggling to continue on.  I believe that is the ultimate lesson he gives - to keep going ("gambatte") even when nothing makes sense.  Even when the mind is confused, one cannot stop and struggle.  He or she must let go and keep going, to be free, to be zero.  It is not necessary to understand, only to keep going.

In looking back at 2011, I made the year about our Kihon or fundamentals.  I started the year teaching most of the Tenchijin Ryaku no Maki, the 3 part book of selected techniques and skills that our Soke put together as a comprehensive training guide to help establish a foundation.  We ended the year with a little review from the students, having them come out and demonstrate something, anything, from their training experiences over the last year - and then we broke it down to look at possibilities, the inner workings and tied it together with other concepts and techniques.  So, we started with form and ended with no form.

In between the start and end of 2011 held many excellent training opportunities, with some exciting and educational workshops and seminars from top instructors, many of whom went to Japan to train with Soke and the Japanese senior teachers on many occasions throughout the year.  Having them to work with really helped me to try and keep in touch with the feeling of Soke's budo, even if I may not always have understood exactly what was being conveyed.  As I said previously, it's not important to understand with the mind.  It's important to keep moving the body.

This year I also found myself focusing my own training and teaching on what to do when taken to the ground.  With the help of some cross training friends, I picked up several really good techniques for escaping and even reversing somebody who is on top of you and trying to pound you into the dirt.  Even though these techniques came from a sport background, I found many ways to incorporate my Bujinkan training into these techniques, to take advantage of weak points and openings and use my ukemi taihen skills to protect myself, weaken their position, find the safe spaces/angles and escape or counter.  I wasn't trying to be any kind of MMA guy.  Rather, I saw this as a great opportunity to 'fix' a hole or vulnerability in my own training.  I also took on this new avenue of training with the pragmatic perspective to consider the reality of weapons, multiple attackers, environmental dangers (curb, stairs, furniture, passing vehicles, etc).

And, I also shared this with my own students - who quickly found great value in the training and I believe have a good foundation to deal with the reality that we may very well end up on our backs with a hostile attacker on top, pounding away at us with a rain of fists, fingers and elbows.  Or, maybe a weapon like a knife or firearm...

At a few points during the year, I learned some really good foundational techniques for using the katana and tachi swords.  I had some really bad habits that developed over the many years without my awareness and, thankfully, some good friends whom I value as my sempai (seniors) took the time to point out and provide correct instruction.  Now I can go confidently into 2012 with a good idea of what "ken kihon" to diligently train on, to not only close the holes, reverse the bad movement habits, but to also have correct form, control of proper distance and efficient power delivery.  Through this new awakening, I found that these things actually brought my kenjutsu more in line with my taijutsu - so that my kenjutsu and taijutsu are becoming one -jutsu.  I've always known that, but somehow it didn't translate in my body to my kenjutsu.

And, that leads me into where I feel I need to go in 2012.  I want to bring all my -jutsu into one.  We have our bugei, or warrior arts, that include weapons, striking, kicking, throwing, grappling, etc.  It is easy to pursue the various skills as seperate areas of study.  But, as was the case with my sword skills, this can lead to problems.  For my own training, I want to work harder to blend these bugei into one, so that there is no separation, no differences, no holes.  My body should work the same, no matter what -jutsu I am incorporating.  That means I am undefined; I am zero.

That's a lot harder than it sounds, believe me!

So, the reflections continue, as I work to find gems of lessons I may have missed or see the past with new eyes so that I may get as much from it as possible.  Then, with 2012 and a whole new year of training and learning ahead, I am excited to see what seeds planted then will start to blossom out now.

Gambatte!

Buyu

Friends...

I have many kinds of friends, like work friends, friends of friends, friends I see maybe once in a while, friends I see all the time, and even Facebook "friends" whom I've never personally met but share a common interest or two.  All my friends share important roles in my life and our connection is always maintained in some way, even with distance and time between us.

I even have those friends from my military "past life" and those who I've never served with, but because of our common military background, we just click as friends.

There are some friends who I consider family, because the connection of history and life between us is so intertwined that our relationship is no different than a family member.  In fact, some friends I am closer to than my own family, in the sense that they've shared more of my life than many members of my own family.

But, out of all those kinds of friends, none of them come close to the kind of unique relationship that exists with my friends in martial arts.  The martial arts are not the same as the military, yet they encompass a sort of pseudo military context.  However, the pursuit of martial arts is as much a personal quest of self-discovery as it is about learning survival and fighting skills.  It is this point that puts friendships in martial arts on a unique platform from all other kinds of friendships.  True "buyu" (martial arts friends) have a kinship with each other because each knows the internal and external struggles the other continues to face as they progress in training.  Each one knows there are ups and downs, success and disappointment, and the all-too-familiar question of "why" they each keep training.  They each know the walls, the plateaus, the high from moments of "getting it" and the lows of not "getting it".
There is a level of honesty that goes beyond boasting, masks and ego.  They know in the end, it's what they do on the mat that ultimately reveals the truth.  True buyu is based on respect because they each know they are willing to allow the other to see their imperfections, share in their success and lean on each other in their challenges.

It's a friendship that is truly unique and one to be cherished, nurtured and valued.

At the same time, this trust should not ever be violated.  Real buyu don't turn on each other, don't lead the other to failure, don't seek harm to the other and don't abandon the other in a time of need.

Recently, I have seen martial arts friends talk critically of each other, make fun of certain behaviors and do things that would be perceived as violating that spirit of trusted buyu.  But, I've also seen those same people be the first to stand up and welcome each other with hugs and even come to the defense of a fellow buyu against someone saying derogatory things.

My point is that we, as buyu, may bicker with each other, we may talk trash with each other, we may poke fun at each other, but when it comes down to it, we will still back each other up and defend each other against those not part of the special relationship that exists between us.

Funny, but that's exactly how it is in even the closest of families!  Coincidence?  I think not.

Thoughts on movement and kukan...

My thoughts on moving:

In budo, movement is everything. Movement comes from the body, as we strive to move with freedom and a naturalness that permits efficiency and natural power. However, when we look at movement in context, we then are faced not with the how, but with the where.

We do not move into solid, we move into space. However, in striking, we are moving to make contact with the solid, but we don't stop there. In order to penetrate, we have to drive through the contact point. In driving through the contact point, we create space as the opponent's body is affected by our strike. This space or kukan gives us the extra space we need to continue forward, or we are stopped in our motion and face a level of recoil in proportion to the amount of resistance we encounter from the target (i.e. the "bounce back"). Unless you strike the air, you will face some degree of recoil or "bounce back". Your kamae in striking or moving plays a key role in being able to pierce through this recoil, or redirect it or absorb it without giving up structure and balance.

Because all structures have strong and weak points, techniques involve a combination of striking into the weak points of the structure, while striking at angles which are not supported fully by the structure.

Then, there is the moment when structure is in transition and that transition is the time when the structure is weak.

Lastly, there is the moment when the structure is no longer strong, due to over extending past the balance point or off the support line of the legs.

With kukan or space, you can create this space, or wait and move in space that opens. In one version of techniques, you 'break open' this space. On another version of techniques, you manipulate the uke's movement to create this space. But, there is another version of techniques where you take the space the uke needs in order to maintain their strong position and movement or that puts you where they are weakest.

This last strategy can be seen as 'stealing space'. I like to think this is a way of shinobi-iri, or "stealing in". More than just sneaking into a castle or house, this strategy exists in high level martial arts techniques. They are sneaky in the sense that it involves moving into spaces undetected. The uke doesn't realize the movement until they are affected, and often they don't understand or are confused by it. In this moment, they are weak structurally and their mind is distracted.

In Japanese budo, efficiency and balance is stressed as one moves from one point to another. This has the benefit of moving in everyday activities with power and naturalness. In combat, the one who has better efficiency and balance is able to have the advantages of correct timing, angling and positioning or distancing. This method of movement relies heavily on precise use of the legs, hips and spine. The knees are bent, the feet and knees align with the points of the hips and the spine supports the upper body without relying on tension of the muscles. As one moves in this manner, the body 'floats' across the floor in an even distribution of balance, instead of the usual up and down, side to side, bobbing manner indicative of Western movement. By moving in this manner, the body is able to move more freely in any direction, change at will, use energy more efficiently and not fatigue as quickly.

Having the physiological control of the body and balance during this kind of movement also can create false senses in the uke and lead to the 'stealing' of kukan. One is able to shift and move into these spaces with little or no detection, since the body movement is reduced to it's move simplistic action. The mind detects movement as it's primary visual cue, so the less movement there is, the more concealed it is. By eliminating extra movement and moving along lines that are outside the mind's ability to detect, the actions become undetected.

There are many ways to make a move undetectable, but to put it simply in the context of movement, it is important to understand the mind detects lateral movement far easier than linear movement. In addition, a flat or wide posture is easier to track than a narrow one. So, if you take these two points, it becomes easy to conclude that the most concealing movement is a linear, streamline movement with a narrow posture. Thus, you have the basis for kamae like Ichimonji no Kamae, Seigan no Kamae, and many others. This is why kamae are not stances, but go far deeper into the science of movement.

There are other examples of how to achieve hidden movement, but I will not go into them here, as this is an article more related to movement in general and the kukan that's involved.

Understanding how the body moves and where it can move with balance, efficiency and power, is a pursuit that will last a lifetime. Every level of understanding leads to the next, but only through proper, consistent, mindful training under a competent teacher can these points of discovery be found. Like knots in a rope, the rope is the connection to one's teacher, the consistent training like the unbroken rope, and the knots are the points of discovery when new levels of understanding are revealed.

Gambatte!

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!

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!

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!

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.