chi (and fish)

i don't think i'm looking for chi anymore.
anyway, i'm not looking to define it; i'm not looking to be a superman, if you will.
i've been on a quest, it seems, to understand it. but, as we know, to seek something is often to lose it. i'm happier now that i accept chi as maybe real--maybe self-hypnosis--maybe science and mechanics. journeyman does a good post on these points here. i wonder if he was on a quest, too. he seems to be at peace with it, anyway.
i train with a sensei who really believes it is a factor in the martial arts. i don't disagree, but then there are guys like Bruce Lee and Professor Wally Jay who i admire and don't neccesarily worry about it too much. (at least outwardly).
maybe jedi knights ruined chi for everyone by making kids want to become supernatural , imbued with chi/Force. That said, i've seen some pretty crazy shit that i cannot explain. maybe it's chi.
but i don't see a lot of crazy stuff. maybe i need a temple to hang out at in a remote jungle somewhere. maybe chi is there.
or maybe it's everywhere, and we, like fish, cannot discern the water all around us. (does a fish use chi to swim? is the water its chi? does a fish prefer spelling it chi or qi?)
just because i'm not searching doesn't mean i'm against it.....
or against fish, for that matter.

getting hit on the way in....

"I never told you that you wouldn't get hit."
This was a passing comment from a sensei at a recent seminar I attended at another dojo. I knew what he said was valid, and have thought about it before, but it resonated with me this time more than ever. In our style of jiu-jitsu we are taught to immediately move in towards our opponent, so the risk of getting hit--even while blocking--is definitely there.
"I rather take 40 per cent going in and then give 100," explained the instructor. "And the day you aren't afraid is the day you really get hurt."
During the two-hour session we learned and practiced many solid techniques, from joint locks to punch counters. But it was the words such as those above that made the bigger impact on me.
Another comment had to do with the practical nature of low kicks. "Up high is fine for tournaments and practice, but on the street it's foolish." This, too, I've heard before (even in the writings of Bruce Lee), however, there are many respectable individuals who disagree that I've met as well.
Regardless, sometimes it's the little comments that make one really think.

drawing on experience...

Bruce Lee often used hand-drawn sketches to demonstrate combat techniques. Little more than stick figures, his books, such as the Tao of Jeet Kune Do, are filled with these simple renderings.
Although the drawings were printed for the readers' benefit, one cannot help but thinking the originals were notes to himself. It makes me think of many-a-sensei who encourages his/her students to write down what they are taught after class. It may not be so much for future reference as the process helps clarify and commit to memory the technique in the present.
I have been meaning to use sketches this way for awhile now. I feel the process of analyzing the technique--posture, stance, etc.--even as stick figures will help form a better understanding for myself, as a visual thinker, as opposed to a written, linear form.
I will hopefully post some of these in the near future, if nothing else as a good chuckle at my artistic abilities.

Low Rider...

One of the ironies I like best in the martial arts world is the fact Bruce Lee taught that kicks on the street should never go above the waist. High kicks are good for control and balance, he claimed, but best left to practice, and of course, films.

I'm not going to get into the reasons why. Most of my readers will know why a high kick can be a defensive liability. But rather, I just wanted to comment on something I've experimented with while training.

I've lowered my heavy bag from the rafter enough to bring the height of both the knee and shin into play. This has taken the head height right out of the equation, as my heavy bag isn't tall enough to cover both. What this has done is twofold: my leg kicks have gotten much stronger, and I've been forced to strike in areas that exclude the area of the face (elbows and punches often inadvertantly gravitate to the height of the head while practicing).

Aside from the legs, the targets become the ribs, solar plexus, and neck area.

This works for me as it forces me into exploring alternatives to higher punches. I work more on knife hand strikes and palm heel more than I ever have.

Later, I'll raise the bag again in order to change the game once more.

The Moon in the Water

"Attain stillness while moving..."

Ah, Bruce, what sweet words you use (Bruce Lee, not Springsteen).

Anyway, this is a statement from Lee's writings, specifically a chapter on combat mobility. He goes on to use the analogy of the moon's reflection in water, still and quiet despite the rolling and breaking waves. It's good, sound, Taoist stuff, which Lee used in many of his martial analyses. He broke down technique endlessly, all the while acknowledging the crucial--yet intangible--mental elements of training that serve to elevate the skill of a martial practionioner.

I think stillness while moving transcends combat.

One who is aware of his/her surroundings while walking along a busy downtown sidewalk is Still While Moving. One who considers what repercussions his/her actions will have amongst others is Still While Moving. One who stays true to his/her honour while out working and exploring in the world is Still While Moving. And one who trains in a combative art for the sake of self-betterment and with non-aggressive goals is Still While Moving.

The moon in the river is Mind. It is the steadfastness of Spirit despite the ever-changing backdrop of the world we live in.

attacking the lead arm...

There is a basic attack in fencing (epee) I was taught over a decade ago, and it is a technique we utilize in sparring quite often in the dojo.

The move is an attack whereby the defender's weapon is attacked first--cleared aside--creating an opening in which to strike (this is all done with the foil or epee in a single motion, much like a stop hit). In jiu-jitsu, we attack the opponent's lead arm the same way, clearing it to the side or down, leaving an open target for the back hand that has already moved to strike. I've been nailed by Sensei this way more than once--in the chest--and when done fast the attack is virtually unstoppable as it removes the defender's blocking hand from the equation.

Although I know little about Bruce Lee compared to his many fans, I have read on several occassions that he gave careful study to fencing tactics (JKD, like fencing, uses a strong-side-forward stance. Since my brief foray in this sport I have found I cannot get away from this).

Also in fencing, like many martial arts, one turns his/her body to the side to narrow themselves as a target (the feet are in a type of backstance). The myth goes Lee passed this along to the boxer Muhammed Ali.
Anyway, I think Lee's JKD definately shows some fencing components, and there a few of which I would encourage any student of budo to understand.