tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58725679078279890832024-03-05T04:21:49.833-08:00Bujutsu: the Pathjchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.comBlogger209125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-87656520651807730342015-08-10T17:51:00.000-07:002015-08-10T17:51:02.127-07:00Ugly Reality
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I recently had the chance to spend the
evening sipping pints of beer with an old friend of mine. Perhaps we
sipped too many, but it happens. Right? Anyway, the subject of my
friend's youth came up, and suffice it to say, my friend grew up in a
not-so-passive environment in a big city. He had to fight, a lot, and
lives now with the demons associated with past fears and violence.
Too many times he had to defend himself—admittedly because he often
put himself in bad situations—and he became, well, experienced at
it. The cliche is this: he seems like he wouldn't hurt a fly. But he
would, if he had to. And he has. So never be deceived by appearances
or preconceived notions.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
My friend was bullied and beaten up
many times when he was young. It is tragic, really. He says the
violence he encountered was “life changing” and “horrible,”
and that eventually he hit that point. The point where he knew he had
to become “tough.”</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It is truly a burden he has to live
with now. Even though he hurt people who wanted to hurt him, he
speaks of it as if he should do some sort of penance for his actions.
Yet, his stories hold value to anyone who wants to avoid violence or
survive it if the time comes. He knows what it is really like. And it
sucks.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Once, for example, I naively asked him
what his reaction would be if someone grabbed him and he was about to
be punched. It's a drill martial artists do repeatedly.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“If someone grabs you,” he said
bluntly, “they don't know what they're doing.”</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
That's not to say you'll never be
grabbed. A lot of people might do so. He was just suggesting that
there are many people who might sucker you without so much as a tell.
“You have to read people and react accordingly,” he added.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Awareness, my sensei used to say, is
ninety percent of self-defense.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
But all said, and despite lessons
learned, I feel terrible for him. He lives with demons. He knows how
ugly true violence is—but almost like a soldier—he became adept
at it. It will never, ever leave him.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
And that is the biggest lesson of all.
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-13333558116723359252015-04-21T09:31:00.000-07:002015-04-21T09:35:14.181-07:00Kids Behaviour<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
In the dojo, just like the classroom,
the children who interrupt, act out, and pay no attention to the
lessons end up costing the diligent and eager students precious
learning time. In turn, these eager students often get bored, feel
like they are not learning enough, and resent those who are
disruptive and are getting all the attention of the instructor. I've
seen kids get fed up and not want to participate anymore. In both
school, and karate class.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
And the martial arts is full of
children who have parents seeking discipline for their unfocused
youngsters. This can be a good thing. Sometimes it works. However,
there is a notion that a martial arts instructor can mystically
transform any student. Or that the discipline of a martial art is
going to “force” a youngster to “fall in line” as it were. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
But it's not the army. And misbehaving
children, while some are just seeking attention, many have genuine
problems focusing and/or behaving, especially in a situation that is
not one-on-one. The situation needs understanding, to be sure.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
However, having a dojo full of students
watching one or two children do push-ups for half of the class is not
ideal for anyone. And truly, the eager students pay the price for
this behaviour.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I think the parents need to be more
involved. Often, they just drop off the child and come back after the
class is over. Like it's a babysitting situation. But they need to
watch what is going on from time to time. After all, there may be a
bigger problem here that needs to be addressed.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Likewise, instructors need to have open
communications with the parents. Many also need to learn more about
childhood behaviour and attention disorders.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
And lastly, other students in the
class, even though they are young, need to feel comfortable speaking
up and identifying problems. The instructor needs to listen to this
and work things out accordingly.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Because there is room for everyone when
it comes to learning, but sometimes a little extra work is required
by everyone involved.</div>
jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-7212392351768666292015-04-01T09:52:00.000-07:002015-04-01T09:54:19.651-07:00Five Years<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Yup, this little blog has been active
for five years this month.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I have enjoyed, and continue to enjoy,
sifting through my thoughts and ideas, and posting small articles
that help me make sense of the martial arts and philosophical
landscape around me. It has become a part of my training path, so to
speak, to use words in order to focus my mind and analyze what I see
going on in my little world. I find it helps break down the chaos of
my mind; it helps me calm the waters, and see to the bottom, if you
will. I feel writing about something can be a useful tool, not unlike
visualization, and may help the seeker attain whatever it is he/she
seeks. If you don't blog, you might discover that keeping a journal,
or even scrawling now and then on a scrap piece of paper can be an
invaluable practice. It's not only good for present insight, but also
provides a good way of checking back to how you used to feel and if
that has changed along the way. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Anyway, thanks to all who drop by for a
visit at Bujutsu: The Path.</div>
jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-28752094158133529792015-02-27T10:11:00.000-08:002015-02-27T10:11:13.693-08:00"Long Quiet Highway"<br /><br />
There is a book from the early '90s I recently re-read, called: <em>Long Quiet Highway</em> by American author Natalie Goldberg. It is a autobiographical memoir of a writer who is immersing herself in Zen study while maintaining a career as an author and writing instructor. In the book, she reflects upon many aspects of Japanese Buddhism, including, in one passage, what it is that makes a good teacher. The fact that Goldberg is referring to Zen isn't necessarily the point. The skills and ideals are transferable to instructors of any kind.<br />
"That is the work of a teacher, not to get caught in the likes and dislikes of a student, but to come forth always with the deepest teachings. Often the student does not like this, thinks the teacher is mean, unfeeling, but a good teacher knows that if he or she plants a real seed, someday, maybe years later, even in the most ignorant of students the seed may sprout. So the teacher's job is to close the gap between the student's ignorance and the teachings, but often the student does not understand any of this. That is why the student is the student. The teacher understands this. That is why the teacher can have abundant patience."<br />
In the next paragraph the author discusses being a student, and what pushes us to want to expand our minds.<br />
"But if the student doesn't know about the gap, how can she learn? There is something in us, an urgency to meet the teachings on the other side, that gnaws at our ignorance, that desires to meet our own true face, however lazy and comfort-loving we may seem to be. This something was working in me, albeit slowly, and often underground."<br />
As a student of martial arts, I understand this. As a student of life, I also understand this. That is why finding the right teacher is so crucial, no matter what it is you wish to learn. And the responsibility of being a teacher is maybe even more immense. One has to be selfless, patient, and look at everything as a whole. After all, a teacher is really a student as well, as in the end, teaching and learning are one in the same.<br />
jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-68956262547049731562015-02-05T08:21:00.002-08:002015-02-05T08:21:33.099-08:00Overconfidence
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Confidence is good. But overconfidence
can lead to a disconnect when it comes to real life violence. It is
too easy to fall into the trap of thinking aptitude in the dojo means
one is automatically safe in the real world.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I've seen this in adults, from time to
time, but where I've really noticed it lately is with teenagers who
have put in a couple of years, and achieved some level of success
when it comes to class. You see the confidence increase, which is
good, but sometimes there develops a slight arrogance, and a belief
that a high belt colour means you can hold your own with anyone, in
any type, of situation. But it's just not true. It's not the way life
works.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Unfortunately, sometimes, depending on
the student (and to a large degree the teacher), success in the dojo
can be comparable to being book smart at school. Good grades don't
necessarily mean intelligence outside of the classroom.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Once, for example, I was watching a
class where the teenagers were having semi-formal grappling/wrestling
matches. A new kid was there, and he, because of his size, was paired
up with an experienced brown belt in the class. Everyone was
thinking, he's going to get destroyed by the senior student, and the
group gathered around in a circle to watch. However, within seconds
of the beginning of the match, the new kid pinned the brown belt on
the mat and the match was over. And then he did it again.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Luckily, it was just a friendly match
in the dojo.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
In fairness, most of us who have put in
any amount of time training have likely felt increased confidence
because of our increased abilities. I get it. But what some students
don't yet realize, and it may take many more years of training and
real life experience to understand, is that humility needs to be one
of the key attributes discovered along the road of training. Use your
confidence, but don't waver from caution; don't think yourself
invincible, because no one is. After all, if we are to never
underestimate an opponent, it means to never overestimate yourself. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Real life violence cannot be duplicated
in a dojo for the sake of training. Real violence is ugly and
unpredictable. It should be avoided, if possible.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I guess I just worry some of these
students, with their new-found confidence, will put themselves in bad
situations because of, well, being a bit naive. Because confidence
can only take one so far, and some of the book smarts have to be
interpreted and/or translated into realistic thinking.</div>
jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-5012937029099422582015-01-28T11:20:00.000-08:002015-01-28T16:13:55.810-08:00The Balance<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I am returning to the philosophy of
circles.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
When I began martial arts, it was with
the focus on the circle. Techniques were always completed with this
concept in mind; defences were based upon rounded movements, such as
jiu-jitsu usually is. This philosophy became the basis of my
training. And while I haven't forgotten this, somewhere along the way
I started to take my own philosophies for granted.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
You see, as I grew to be a more
experienced striker, I learned the value of a linear approach to
defence to complement the circle. I learned about centre lines, jabs,
and crosses. Attacking on angles and doing kata in line formations.
Often, it seemed, the quickest route to reach an opponent was in a
straight line.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
My circles never went away, though, I
just didn't focus on them in the same way I once did. But my mind is
returning to it, now, albeit in a more layered manner than before.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I like to look at a karate reverse
punch as a good example of combining straight lines with circular
movements. The punch, to be quick and effective, must travel directly
at its target – in a straight blast of power. The foot, also,
lunges into a forward stance, aimed in the same direction as the arm.
But, the circle is still there. The fist corkscrews as it is
extended; the hips turn in order to generate power. It is a perfect
balance of both concepts at work. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Lately, I have been hoping to increase
my jiu-jitsu training once again. It's like going home and I'm
excited. I am once more thinking in circles both small and large. And
I am applying the philosophy to what I have learned in the meantime,
blending the two, hopefully, into seemless, coherent actions.</div>
jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-60613984595974400022015-01-07T08:29:00.000-08:002015-01-07T08:31:31.501-08:00Becoming Immune<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
In the realm of frenetic commercialism,
those who wish to find a quiet mind must work to develop a sort of
“materialistic immunity.” Just as the body can become immune to
certain diseases, so, too, can the mind subdue the unwanted “noise” of the world.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It is hard enough, I've discovered, to
find moments of peace without countless billboards pouring crap into
my conscious and subconscious mind. Life, it seems, is challenging on
its own, without omnipresent television screens with ego-filled
actors telling me what I “need,” and how to be happy. And when I
walk down a city street it feels akin to running a gauntlet of
materialism, and I know it impacts us all deeper than we think on the
surface. After all, that's the point of advertising, isn't it?</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
But peace can still be found. I try to
become consciously aware of my surroundings, and take my power back
by holding an internal place of focus amid the chaos.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The martial arts world, an argument
could be made, has become increasingly commercial in recent years as
well. Some dojos want to <i>sell</i> you what they have to offer, and
many teachers and students flaunt their knowledge as if advertising
their self-importance, unaware of the impact it may have on other
students with whom they train. While most instructors and students I
have met have been humble and approachable, there is always that one
guy or girl who fails to check their ego at the door.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Again, we need to focus on ourselves.
Martial artists train daily to cut out distractions, to breath, and
to redirect the energy of an attacker. In this case, the attacker may
be ego, materialism, or just unwanted attitudes of negativity. I just
try to redirect the unwanted energy. I try to become immune to
negative surroundings, and hopefully add a bit of positivity in the
process.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It is my way of trying to find a quiet
mind in a world that often seems out to confuse and distort what life
is all about.</div>
jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-67284898692351883132015-01-01T10:09:00.000-08:002015-01-01T10:10:43.794-08:00Perseverance<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The year 2014, while full of memorable
moments in the dojo, was a year that ultimately brought lessons in
patience and perseverance.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
For the first time in seven years of
dedicated training, I hit a point where I could see quitting. Plain
and simple. I was down in the dumps; my energy depleted, and my focus
gone. But only in fits and starts. I would miss three weeks of class,
then go regularly for three more. I binge trained, to be honest, and
there were points where I had to drag myself out of the house to make
it to the dojo for a training session.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
What kept me going was knowing that
each time I did go to class, I felt so glad that I did so. I felt
refreshed, excited, and pleasantly tired from a challenging lesson.
But then it would fade in my mind, and one day off would turn into
many more. I was extremely busy with my family life, and my drive was
just, well, not there.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Another thing that kept me going was
watching my seven-year-old son's classes. I observed his excitement
as he advanced to the “bigger kids class,” and enjoyed seeing his
progression as lessons in the martial arts unfolded in front of his
youthful eyes.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
But why was I struggling? I needed to
figure this out in order to move forward.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I could pin blame on many factors if I
wished: exhaustion; injuries; absent training partners; not enough
time; feeling too old; other interests, etc. I also have to deal with
mental depression and anxiety which severely impacts my motivation at
times.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
However, these factors have never
stopped me in the past. And who doesn't have challenges to overcome?</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
So what I had to do was dig deep and
decide what the martial arts mean to me. And two of those things,
among many others, is the cultivation of patience and perseverance. I
realized that these lulls and challenging moments are just part of
the deal. Training to get past them is not unlike training in
endurance or technique. At times it's just hard.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
But getting through the challenges, and
finding joy once again on the path, is worth all the struggle and
discomfort.</div>
jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-67855155794293932702014-12-15T09:16:00.000-08:002014-12-15T09:16:26.535-08:00CompassionUnconditional compassion may be one of the most important qualities
a human being can strive to possess. To be selfless is a major key to opening the door to true understanding. I, like
everyone else in the world, find this hard at times. I do not have a
violent temper or anything like that, but I am human, and humans do
not always live up to their true spiritual potential. It's part of
the gig. It's part of learning.<br />
“<em>I am good to people who are good. I am also good to people who are not good. Because Virtue is goodness.</em><br />
<em>I have faith in people who are faithful. I also have faith in people who are not faithful. Because Virtue is faithfulness</em>."<br />
-- Tao Te Ching<br />
Compassion, while to a certain degree natural and latent in us all, sometimes needs to be practised and honed just like any other skill we seek to learn. When we practise a martial art, for example, we expect difficulty and challenges along the way. That's why we practise so hard and so long. Our approach to spirituality should be no different.<br />
"<em>The Art of Peace begins with you. Work on yourself and your appointed task in the Art of Peace</em>."<br />
-- Morihei Ueshiba<br />
And compassion does lead to peace in the end. Sometimes the process feels painfully exhausting, I admit, but our spiritual teachers were definitely onto something when they preached patience and kindness. In reality, anger and frustration merely cloud our minds. They obscure our focus and mental clarity.<br />
"<em>When a delusion like anger is present, we lose control."</em><br />
-- The Dalai Lama<br />
So although we will invariably fail at times, the pursuit of unconditional compassion is a worthy path to embark upon. It will not only help us fine tune our own spirituality, but it will make us better teachers to those around us as well.<br />
"<em>For hate is not conquered by hate: hate is conquered by love. This is a law eternal."</em><br />
-- The Dhammapadajchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-36159190752043400592014-12-01T10:50:00.002-08:002014-12-01T10:50:46.089-08:00The Duel
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
A renowned warrior came into a field to
do battle.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The first challenger he met was his
greatest adversary: Ego.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Both soldiers drew their swords and
engaged in battle. They fought for many frantic minutes with no harm
coming to either individual; both becoming increasingly fatigued as
the conflict went on. But at a crucial moment, when the first warrior
had Ego nearly defeated, he misjudged his opponent's strength and was
pushed off balance and fell to the ground.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Ego, a smile coming across his face,
raised his weapon and prepared to finish the conflict with one mighty
swing of his sword.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
But before he could do so, a chill
breeze moved across the field, and on it sailed an arrow that pierced
the armour of Ego, causing him to fall dead to the ground. The first
warrior, incredulous, looked to his right and saw a third warrior
carrying a bow.</div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
His name was True Self.</div>
jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-75323194082673986572014-11-24T11:17:00.001-08:002014-11-24T11:20:05.043-08:00Qi For Two<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It exists. It doesn't exist.<br />
We all know the debate over whether or
not qi, or energy force, is an actual source of power which can be
tapped into by those with the know-how to do so. My attempt here is
not to take sides; it is not to prove or disprove qi energy. Rather,
it is to relate an interesting situation in which I find myself as a
student of martial arts.<br />
For a few years now, I have studied under
two different instructors, although I still consider my first sensei
to be my main go-to teacher. That said, I have enjoyed and benefited
from delving into another style of martial art, one that I hope
complements my original knowledge and training. It seems to work, and
I have fun while doing it.<br />
So what i find intriguing is this:
while I have great respect for both instructors, and try to soak in
as much information from each one while in their respective dojos,
they differ in one main philosophical outlook. One teacher believes
strongly in qi energy, while the other views the emergence of any
extra force during a technique as more of a mechanical phenomenon,
i.e. something more tangible and physical.<br />
I find the contrasting outlooks of
great interest. I find it symbolic of the split in the martial arts
in general. Yin and Yang, perhaps. And I don't view one instructor as less effective or
less wise. After all, one major thing both teachers have in common is that
the technique works best when it is done properly. With proper
mechanics. More power comes from this, whether accompanied by qi or
not. As to whether <i>more</i> energy can be added is a different
story, one that I prefer to leave be for the time being. <br />
Because like I said, I'm not taking
sides right now. Instead, what I try to do is embrace the teaching of both, all
the while exploring the options myself, in my own mind.</div>
jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-58919812416192378672014-03-19T09:54:00.000-07:002014-03-19T09:56:29.330-07:00Siddhartha<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLcgXN8MOAa4EDi72GnYUoMUHZipsLeuhHMX_HBJ2e9glqrqFNGwqHHKhG0AVW2_1diu_x5ZT6JcrTtNhpPUkwIxRIvYtJvgCFS_niUL6dVa9eW7XdnrcAmtYtwzFTfG8iNUIMBkIE8E/s1600/siddhartha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLcgXN8MOAa4EDi72GnYUoMUHZipsLeuhHMX_HBJ2e9glqrqFNGwqHHKhG0AVW2_1diu_x5ZT6JcrTtNhpPUkwIxRIvYtJvgCFS_niUL6dVa9eW7XdnrcAmtYtwzFTfG8iNUIMBkIE8E/s1600/siddhartha.jpg" height="320" width="195" /></a></div>
<br />
It was almost twenty years ago that I first read <em>Siddhartha</em> by Hermann Hesse. The book, a fictional account of a wandering monk in the time of the Buddha, is a story sure to trigger spiritual contemplation in any reader. It traces the protagonist's journey through asceticism, worldly desires, and eventually peace and reflection. It is ultimately about seeking truth in all its mystery, which, for Siddhartha, is what life is ultimately all about.<br />
Although it is difficult to remember my exact thoughts about the book twenty years ago, what I do realize is how differently the words feel now that I have had much more life experience. Don't get me wrong, I was still very spiritually minded as a young man. At least as much as today. However, our consciousness seems to be ever-expanding, and as a result, time truly does give us perspective.<br />
One of the things that really struck me this time reading the novel was the fact that this was not just a westerner's interpretation of Eastern thought, but a fusion of Eastern thought with Western mysticism. Hesse was, after all, German, and his take on Eastern philosophy was still seen through the eyes of the West. That said, the truth is the truth regardless of where one lives, and therefore the author still manages to cut through to the core of Siddhartha's contemplative nature.<br />
While doing this, Hesse very deliberately draws parallels between the Buddha and his character, Siddhartha, but is very careful to separate the two in their approach to spirituality and teaching.<br />
At the heart of Siddhartha, is the idea that, "Wisdom is not communicable." Instead, it is seen and heard everywhere all at once, and everything in life is timeless and unified. <br />
However, regardless of which age I happened to be reading this novel, the author's words made me reflect deeply upon the nature of life and reality itself. While now I can relate more to the different stages of Siddhartha's life, perhaps when I'm older I'll look back with even more perspective upon Hesse's eloquent story.<br />
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<br />jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-12429182293625209832014-02-12T12:21:00.000-08:002014-02-12T12:21:01.974-08:00Anger...<br />
In the book, <em>The Power of Myth</em>, Joseph Campbell retells an old Japanese legend about a samurai who had "the duty to avenge the murder of his overlord." But, in the moment he was about to use his sword to strike down his adversary, the man spat in the samurai's face. "And (so) the warrior sheathed the sword and walked away."<br />
Campbell explains how the warrior was angered by the act of spitting, and realized if he struck down the man in rage it would have become "a personal act." That was not what the samurai had come to do, says Campbell.<br />
It rings of Luke Skywalker's temptation to strike down the Emperor--an act that would have altered Luke's fate forever, as the act would have been one based in anger and hatred. This would have made him as malevolent as the one he sought to destroy.<br />
While emotion may be a useful and powerful thing, anger and fear can distort. They can blacken our hearts and create reactions not thought through with a rational mind.<br />
Viewed historically (and on a larger scale), armies have been mobilized based on anger-inducing propaganda. After all, if there is only compassion for the other side in a conflict, what soldier would pick up a weapon to kill? What population would give consent to a war that had no villain?<br />
I'm not saying what wars have been justified and which have not. I'm just saying that the masses can be swayed either way by the right use of media. And often, anger is the emotion targeted in order to influence large groups of people.<br />
On an individual scale, anger can also make us do things we shouldn't. Such emotions can cloud the mind. And even the most passive soul can be angered by something.<br />
I guess it is about whether or not we strike out at others when we become angry, or whether we try to tame the emotions and wait until we can think clearly once again. <br />
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jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-23282133551603629002014-01-26T18:13:00.001-08:002014-01-26T18:13:55.041-08:00A Return...<br />
<br />
I gave up on meditation about two years ago. Things in my life had drastically changed, and as a result, my focus on many things in life began to diminish. Also, a major factor, was that my time alone decreased significantly.<br />
But recently, the art of sitting in silent contemplation has returned to my life.<br />
It wasn't deliberate. I wasn't searching out solace or a way to regain my mental focus. And I'm not sure this will be the outcome, anyway, to tell you the truth.<br />
Really, what happened was that I was reunited with a group of friends, who meet each week, and discuss books and spiritual ideas over coffee and tea. And they meditate. Twenty minutes at the beginning of each meeting.<br />
Returning to meditation was daunting. At least at first. It had been a long time--my mind raced and I felt trapped. The clock ticked and my breathing was all over the place. But I settled in soon enough, and ended up having a pretty positive experience. Since then I have gone back four or five times, and manage now to find my zone pretty quickly.<br />
But don't get me wrong, this isn't at the level of "no mind," transcendental type meditation. I'm still a hack, really, just trying to calm my mind here and there. No chakras are being opened, believe me, I'm just trying to sit and be relaxed for a twenty minute space of time.<br />
And this approach has made it easier for me this time around. I am putting less pressure on myself to achieve results. In fact, I'm just happy to sit, my mind swirling, with the odd moment of peace tucked in for good measure--often accidentally. <br />
But it's good to be back, for sure, and we'll worry about those chakras another day. <br />
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<br />jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-74121262270094398642013-11-05T17:34:00.001-08:002013-11-05T17:34:30.547-08:00Parent-And-Tot ClassI 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.<br />
(Now, after class, my son is wiped out and fast asleep in bed. And I'm sure I won't be awake much longer.)jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-30089560513393787442013-09-04T17:28:00.000-07:002013-09-04T17:32:08.099-07:00i'd rather quit...I encountered, this summer, a teacher who made me think: If I had to study under this individual, I'd likely quit the martial arts. That has never happened before. I don't know what this says about me, but I do know what this says about the way this sensei taught. His skills were excellent, but he was belittling and arrogant. He made you feel your attempts were insufficient even when you were trying your best. And although it was all done under the guise of jest, it was still enough to impact the lesson in a negative way.<br />
It takes a lot for me to say something this strong, but the truth is, that I wouldn't want to learn from someone who cares so little for the feelings of his or her students.<br />
Maybe this is a poor attitude on my part, but it makes me appreciate the other teachers and fellow students I have encountered along the way. jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-32620570875263244992013-08-05T18:44:00.000-07:002013-08-05T18:48:34.865-07:00Greed: is it good?...<br />
Yesterday I attended a class on point sparring. It is not something I spend a lot of time doing, so I took the class for that reason, and was quite fortunate in the caliber of instruction I had during the session.<br />
We did a lot of counters, especially from reverse punches and roundhouse kicks. I caught on fairly well, largely due to the direction given to me from the highly experienced fighter I was paired up with. It was a good workout and we had a laugh as well.<br />
But of all the help I received yesterday, one of the most memorable comments came from the teacher's uke/assistant instructor, who strolled around the training area, offering bits of advice and guidance.<br />
"You're doing it fine," he said, going over the form and movement of my counter attack. Then he hesitated, and his face became animated. "But you need to be greedy. <i>Take the point</i> by being greedy."<br />
And he demonstrated--with speed and decisiveness--what it is he meant by these words. The block and punch were all in one motion, and it looked like his will itself was overpowering the attacker. <br />
Sure enough, he seemed, well, "greedy." <br />
I paused for a moment, thanked him and bowed, and returned to the drill to try emulating this greed: a state of being we normally associate with bad behavior; a way of acting we usually feel needs to be suppressed or ignored.<br />
But he summed up, really, what can make the difference between two combatants in the cat-and-mouse game of sparring: The desire and will to just, "<i>Take the point</i>."<br />
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<br />jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-56066962989684632702013-07-26T18:26:00.001-07:002013-07-26T18:26:27.995-07:00a good dose of humility...<br />
My knuckles are blistered from hitting the focus mitts...<br />
I tanked out during class with exhaustion...<br />
My muscles are so stiff I can hardly lift a fork...<br />
<br />
(Welcome back to summer training, a good dose of humility goes a long way.) <br />
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jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-86408995968952748182013-07-18T18:21:00.000-07:002013-07-18T18:21:28.907-07:00Tao Te Ching - 77"The Tao of heaven is like the bending of a bow.<br />
The high is lowered, and the low is raised."<br />
-- Lao Tsu<br />
<br />
I like thinking about this one.<br />
It has the "meek shall inherit the earth" feel. The Way, or Tao, balances all things. It reminds me of breathing and drawing chi energy from both above your head and up through the soles of your feet. It reminds me of a Heaven and Earth throw where the head comes down to earth and the feet go up to the clouds. It reminds me of finding peace with the lower nature of the Mind and that of the higher.<br />
<br />
He goes on:<br />
<br />
"If the string is too long, it is shortened;<br />
If there is not enough, it is made longer."<br />
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We adapt. The universe provides. We adjust our balance, whether it be our energy, mind, or body. Regardless of the actions of people on earth, the Way will remain intact and unyielding. For the Tao, Lao Tsu continues, takes from those who have too much and gives to those with not enough.<br />
He says: "What man has more than enough and gives it to the world? Only the man of Tao."<br />
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This is why the sage "works without recognition," and achieves "without dwelling on it."<br />
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And there is no need to flaunt skill or knowledge. Just a bending of a bow.<br />
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<br />jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-91888882387628939782013-07-01T18:02:00.000-07:002013-07-01T18:02:21.693-07:00summer changes...Usually, this time of year, I am ready for some down time. The dojo shuts down for a large part of the summer, and the time is used to heal, relax, and think about what comes next.<br />
But this year I don't feel ready.<br />
To start, my training time has been sporadic this year, down significantly from previous years due to a variety of reasons. I also used to attend another dojo--a different martial art--but have taken time away from doing this in order to focus on my main style (which as I mentioned has been neglected somewhat). And it seems as soon as my focus began returning and I became fired up for some serious training, it was announced that the dojo would close for an even longer time this year. And sooner rather than later.<br />
Argh!<br />
So now I have to figure out how to channel my new-found enthusiasm despite this news; how to turn this negative into a positive. But is it even enough time to bother trying a new style? Is it worth going back to the other dojo even though I had made a decision to take a break from training there?<br />
I dunno... But I'd hate to let this enthusiasm go to waste... <br />
<br />jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-83842111514252375032013-06-12T08:31:00.000-07:002013-06-12T08:31:47.838-07:00being timid...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I often leave seminars with a feeling of ambivalence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And this is exactly what happened last week as I attended a
really good self-defense clinic about an hour away from my home.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The good feelings are usually first. They are a result of
having just learned some great stuff, having met with some great martial artists,
and having tons of exercise-induced endorphins pumping through my system. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What’s not to be happy about? Right?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, the second emotion that hits me is usually frustration
with myself. And not because I’m overly critical with my technique--because I
know that it is not perfect. Rather, the feeling is because I am upset with how
I react to different training partners than those I am used to. As I have
mentioned before, I train in a very small dojo, where one becomes very
comfortable with one’s instructors and/or peers. When I am at a seminar, I
train with many, many different people, and my reaction to this is very
inconsistent. With some people, I feel immediately comfortable, and the mutual learning
goes smoothly. With other partners, it is neutral, and likewise, the training
remains solid. However, for some reason, with just a few, (and here is the crux
of the matter), I get shy and even a bit intimidated at times. And not so
much physically intimidated—the environment is always friendly--but rather socially
intimidated. I start to feel awkward with my partner and am overly apologetic
and/or overly polite. I get quiet and uncomfortable, and I'm generally a guy who is comfortable in most social situations. And this doesn’t go by rank, either. It could be while
working with a white belt or fifth degree black. </div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">I guess I just worry about what ramifications this could have outside the dojo. Could it hurt my confidence in <i>real</i> life...? Could it make me a weaker person in a <i>real</i> confrontation...? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Or is it all just good for me. The whole overcoming one’s
comfort zone etc. But it’s difficult to totally overcome, especially since opportunities for such group settings
only come up every few months or so.</span>jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-15675612607536392412013-04-11T18:22:00.002-07:002013-04-11T18:25:06.167-07:00more lessons on weapons...Despite my wavering (and likely naive) opinions on weapons as of late, I decided to jump right in and go to a seminar on classical Japanese sword technique.<br />
And, well, I loved it.<br />
The instructor, who I have attended sessions with in the past, is truly one of the best I have seen. His breadth of knowledge is immense, and his ability to simplify seemingly intricate techniques is incredible. To top it all off, I got to work on what he showed us with my own sensei for the entire three hours.<br />
And while many realizations were had during the course of the afternoon, two things really hit home with me this time.<br />
Firstly, although I have always known the link between weapons and empty hand exists, this was one of the clearest examples of this concept for me. I could see how the difference between the two could seemingly dissolve, and how the bokken, or wooden sword, could truly become an extension of one's body<i>. </i>(I am not claiming to have mastered this... I am claiming an understanding of how one <i>could</i> master this...). Likewise, I could further feel how one's body could feel more weapon-like, and how the two could in fact be melded together.<br />
Second, and one of the most valuable things I am getting out of my recent foray into the world of weapons, is an intensified view on the importance of timing. On the battlefield, life and death could be reduced to a millisecond, as a technique would work or fail based on the same. This instructor really conveyed this concept, and as a result, he made the techniques seem very real to me. (Of course, this extreme awareness of timing is, once again, transferable back to empty hand.)<br />
Don't get me wrong, I still have a sense of awkwardness in comparison to my normal comfort zone of training. I can feel my shoulders are still stiff and I overthink most aspects of the techniques. But my mind is, in fact, being slowly pried open. My brain is absorbing new material and adding it to my previous knowledge base.<br />
And yes, it was fun this time too..... <br />
jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-30475210359226879842013-04-04T17:56:00.003-07:002013-04-04T17:56:33.456-07:00words...<br />
My last class was one of my most important to date. I entered the dojo (I was the only student at class), my sensei and I bowed, and he asked me to sit down on the floor. And for two hours we just talked about martial arts. I learned a lot, and thanked him for such an insightful class... some of the words i will carry with me for a long time...jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-72975018923662090052013-03-11T19:04:00.000-07:002013-03-11T19:04:04.878-07:00motivation...Belts have always been a bit of an area of indifference to me... i get it, but i work out in a very small dojo where everyone knows each other's abilities (three students is often a busy night)... sometimes, when we travel to another club or attend a seminar, it helps out with the teaching/learning match-ups... but belt standards are different in each dojo, plus, i go to maybe three such events a year, so for the most part i don't think too much about it.<br />
however, my five-year-old son recently received his orange belt... and it was great to see the effort and energy he put into attaining it... even at his age--or especially at his age--i could tell he needed a boost and/or something to focus on... and so did his sensei... it was a huge motivator, and he earned the belt through so much hard work... (and the great part at that age is there is absolutely no ego involved; the belt is just as exciting as getting a gift at Christmas, but there is little concern for what other kids are doing or achieving...)<br />
so, i learned that however indifferent i may have become, i got a real kick out of his acheivment, and i can see how it encouraged his growth as a little martial artist...<br />
the only down side is that dad still ties his belt, and new belts always find a way to fall off during class... it took us more than a year to break in that yellow one...jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5872567907827989083.post-32743707686955901702013-03-05T18:48:00.001-08:002013-03-05T18:52:40.875-08:00awkwardness and incompetence...<br />
lately, i've experienced epic amounts of awkwardness and incompetence while trying to learn new sword, stick, and staff techniques. aside from one bo kata, i've spent very little time using these weapons, and believe me, it shows.<br />
i am a total beginner again; it's amusing and frustrating all at once. <br />
i guess, in the past, i have always avoided weapons training (empty hand defenses notwithstanding). i've always felt that i'd rather spend the time on basic self-defense than on something i'd never use, like a sword. but lately, well, it's been kind of pushed on me.<br />
my initial reaction was to just to do it and get it over with. smile, learn a few techniques, then return to empty hand drills. but after being forced to spend more and more time at it, i knew this was not the right way to look at the situation. don't get me wrong, i still am ambivalent, but i am trying to balance out my point of view.<br />
so i'm looking at the weapons training as a way of expanding and exercising my brain; i'm looking at the link between empty hand techniques and those of weapons; i'm further understanding combat mechanics and how a weapon can be an extension of your body; and i'm getting a bit of a history lesson when i think of the countless soldiers and civilians who were once trained in these arts.<br />
and the beginner's mind is good, after all. <br />
it's just that sometimes i need to be forced into it.jchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07623739973599458366noreply@blogger.com1