Parent-And-Tot Class

I just got in from my first ever parent-and-child karate class. It was great fun, and reminded me of how excited I used to get when my dad would play in the parent-and-child hockey games when I was young. The class was just run like a normal kids class--no tailoring it to be more suitable for parents. I think more clubs should try this type of event. It shows the parents how hard their kids work and why they like to go to the classes in the first place. It's both humbling and a good bonding excercise.
(Now, after class, my son is wiped out and fast asleep in bed. And I'm sure I won't be awake much longer.)

turning the corner...

the past few months has been--as I said before--one of the most challenging periods of my martial arts career to date. doubts lurking around every corner; frustration rearing its ugly head. while I never considered quiting, my heart was clouded and my mind was frayed.
currently, i feel... well... better. while i'm not tooting rainbows and doing back flips for no reason, my mind has reset itself and I have been enjoying my training once again. do i feel further tempered and believe i've had a philosophic expansion as a result of my struggles? time will tell. does it feel nice to be back on track?
indeed.
part of my imbalance, as I mentioned previously, had a lot to do with a lack of harmony between kata and technique. this was perhaps a result of a grading i was undergoing, where my kata was in worse shape than my technique and needed to be improved upon. grading gives me great ambivalence, but i will save those thoughts for another day.
in the mean time, while I cannot say exactly what is around the corner, i know now that at least i am turning one.

Faults...

"Look upon the man who tells thee thy faults as if he told thee of a hidden treasure..." -- The Dhammapada (Chapter six)

This is probably one of the most difficult concepts to embrace in both martial training and in living life in general. That "man who tells thee thy faults," comes in many forms: a sensei, an uke, a friend, a spouse, and especially, one's self. If we're not open to looking at our own short-comings it could set us up for a fall. It could mean danger, for the spirit, or, on the street, physically.

Sometimes, while training, we express such flaws in technique in a jesting manner; other times it becomes a very serious conversation. As long as it solves the problem, the comments are considered a success.

As a friend, or an uke, I would be letting my partner down if I were to pretend a technique is working well if it is not. As a friend outside the dojo, the same applies.

But the hard part is always hearing such flaws about yourself.

As always, humility is a great teacher.

Four good shots...

If you ever want to fully understand the concept of no effort, just go golfing with any decent-scoring senior citizen.

Yesterday, I was invited by two friends to join them in a charity tournament along with my father. Both men were in their 70s, and were former club champs.

Says one:

"In the old days, I could reach this green with a driver and a six iron, now it takes me four good shots."

The result, however, was not so shabby. Four shots. One putt. And a par.

All the swings were effortless, down the fairway, and in a comfortable spot to set up the next shot.

Me, I crunched several balls. And it felt great. But I also had several moments where my control was lost, and the strokes began to add up.

"Just swing a touch slower," says the other friend.

And I did.

And, of course, it worked.

Fear Factor...

A myth about self-defense training is that your fear goes away.

I think a truer statement is that you learn to better understand your fears. They don't go anywhere. However, through self-examination, we may gain a good knowledge of our abilities under duress. Confidence is created this way, by knowing you can respond in a situation of fear, rather than being surprised when the nerves kick in.

To become fearless would be to lose one's humanity.

Journeyman talks about this a lot. He always factors in the psychological/physiological aspects to his methods, knowing that fine motor skills will be lost under stress, and an attackers injuries and/or rationality may be dulled by substances or adrenalin. He knows this because he has seen it happen. It is his job to study it.

Because in our training we constantly examine fear--and replicate it as much as is possible--we translate these lessons into our daily existence. Our actions, I believe, are less determined by avoidance of fear, as we accept its presence in the world. Instead we look for effective solutions (even if this require heaps of patience). We analyze why we may be fearful in the first place; and we hesitate to give our power and minds away to others.

These skills make a warrior of life itself. A humble, swift-acting, human being.

Not a fearless, thoughtless thug.

Of Action and Regret....

"That samurai was right who refused to compromise his character by a slight humiliation in his youth; 'because,' he said, 'dishonour is like a scar on a tree, which time, instead of effacing, only helps to enlarge.'"

Ah yes, once again the words of Inazo Nitobe's Bushido.

This paragraph deserves some thought. Although the original context is discussing the role of shame, and how this emotion is the basis of all moral behaviour and honour, the scarred tree analogy goes so much further. We all have such wounds that have increased over time rather than diminished. Some are based in matters of confidence; some are in areas of relationships; and some are based in more tangible and physical injuries that we ignored until they spiralled out of control.

Technically speaking, these imperfections are the result of improper understanding and/or teaching, that start out as tiny bad habits, eventually to become glaring weaknesses. This is why accomplished martial artists still listen to constructive criticism. It is why the best athletes in the world still rely on professional coaching.

In this case, dishonour could be interpreted as a lack of humility among one's peers. Or in the misjudged abilities of an adversary.

It could be rooted in a dishonest self-perception, individually, or as a society that puts humanity on a pedestal separate from the natural world.

This is why all actions are best examined closely, lest regret becomes the growing scar on the tree.

Bang a (Qi) Gong....

art by alex grey

Beginning the next chapter can be overwhelming.

But it's what we strive to do on the Path.

For me, personally, the next stage was not one I chose, but one that chose me. That makes it more important, as the Universe is in on the game.

The next phase of my training will manifest itself as an increased focus on Qi Gong, an internal art from China that aims to cultivate Qi energy within the body. As I've mentioned before, my sensei has routinely incorporated this art into our training, but has now decided to formalize our studies. This means a curriculum, memorization, meditation, and patience.

"You will be frustrated," he said. "It will take a long time to achieve results."

I've studied with him for over three years now, and I trust his methods of teaching. I know if he feels that an increased attention to Qi Gong will boost our abilities then the lessons will be invaluable. I know from our previous exercises in breathing--utilizing Qi Gong methods--that my meditation skills were undoubtedly elevated. Also, a great deal of the nerve points used in the art are ones we already use to increase the pain level of our techniques. However, now we will use them to heal and not hurt.

I think returning to a beginner's mind is an extremely important thing to do as a student of this life. It's humbling, but also generates new focus and expanded understanding.

And that has to be good.... right?



*** Here is the main elemental chart for Qi Gong. It is quite interesting and will take much time to fully take in.

Dragon Slayers

"There is no greater curse than discontent."

Once again, the words of Lao Tsu as written in the Tao Te Ching.

I bet any one of us can relate to this idea. It emerges during the periodic frustration due to our striving for results.

Such discontent is entwined with our ego's need to recognize it's own achievement. I am reminded of mythologist Joseph Campbell, who equated the many tales of slaying dragons as an act of overcoming our own ego-self. However, we need not slay or suppress such a beast, rather just acknowledge that it exists and is merely an aspect of ourselves that need not oppress us or be feared.

I don't view defeating one's ego as eliminating individual identity--merging into a mass military mindset--but instead, permitting a balance to exist within one's mind while on the path of bettering oneself (as a martial artist or a person). In other words, understanding that some struggle is needed in order to grow, but not becoming a slave to, or rushing towards any specifically desired outcome.
For while the Tao of Heaven does not strive, Lao Tsu insists that it still overcomes.
Take this concept back to practical martial application. To strive intellectually for results usually leads to sub-par form, and therefore frustration. When effortless reaction is used, based in repetitive practice, a harmonious feeling is achieved.
A proper balance.
And therein can be found the skills to defeat the dragon.

Thoughts Along the Way

"Fill a cup to its brim and it is easily spilled...."

This is phrase from the Tao, and of course it can be applied to many things. In martial arts, I see this as learning too much at once (and retaining little). Or, memorizing many techniques but not understanding the basics. Three strong basic movements can be much more valuable to a student than 100 misunderstood ones.

"Temper a sword to its hardest and it is easily broken..."

This line goes with the previous one. To me, in budo, this would include over-training to the point of exhaustion/injury. It could also mirror the previous statement in that so many finely detailed techniques could be easily toppled by a strong foundation.

"Gravity is the source of lightness, Calm, the master of haste..."

Again, a stable base allows for flow and fluidity. This can reflect physical balance, too, in stance-work and execution. And of course, when the mind is settled, one's movements, thoughtlessly, will arrive faster and more effectively.

"To reduce someone's influence, first expand it..."

This concept may be thought of as a tool in the defensive arts such as allowing an attacker to build confidence--throw an attack--and allowing them to leave him/herself vulnerable to a counter move. Giving the opponent room in order to take it back on your own terms.

"The river carves out the valley by flowing beneath it. Thereby the river is the master of the valley..."

This one reminds me of two things. One, is when I've watched my Sensei spar against taller opponents--he bends himself even lower until the opponent is unknowingly bending as well--then Sensei quickly stands upright, now equal in height to the taller opponent, and then nails them. The other thought, of course, is the intrinsic value of letting go of ego in budo.

This last one needs no comments:

"Compassion is the finest weapon and best defence. If you would establish harmony, Compassion must surround you like a fortress. Therefore, a good soldier does not inspire fear; A good fighter does not display aggression; A good conqueror does not engage in battle; A good leader does not exercise authority. This is the value of unimportance; This is how to win the cooperation of others; This to how to build the same harmony that is in nature."

weakness...

So often, it seems, humility goes hand-in-hand with progression.
When a weakness is accepted, it can then be fixed and built upon. Personally, I get frustrated when I don’t pick up a new technique quickly. Even worse, is when a bad habit emerges while doing a technique I thought I knew inside-out.
In my experience to date, humility is the only solution. If I really want to execute the technique correctly, I figure, I have to admit to myself there is a weakness to be fixed.
And believe me, I always find plenty to keep me busy.

Says Ueshiba: "Failure is the key to success..."