The Art of Forgetting

One of my favorite authors on the martial arts is Donn Draeger. I find his material to contain a wealth of information and has been a reliable source for a number of my articles. As a career military man, Draeger spent decades studying and teaching the martial arts in the US and abroad. Most of his formative training was done in Japan.

One of Draeger's themes that were repeated throughout his discourses was the development of the trainee. Now bear in mind that for Draeger, budo - the Japanese martial ways, were more like spiritual disciplines than systems of combat. He must have realized that getting the typical Western reader to really understand where he was coming from may have been difficult, as the bulk of his writings were done at a time when martial arts were fairly new in the West. Fudoshin and ki weren't exactly household terms in the sixties, so Draeger would deftly fall back on the power of metaphor to get some of his points across. Here, in Classical Budo, he uses the analogy of a typist to explain the mindset of the burgeoning student and the beginnings of martial mastery.

After sufficient experience in typing, the typist becomes a master touch-typist. He no longer needs to depend upon the mechanics of how to type, nor has to rely on memory to find the positions of the keys. He makes few errors if any, and has the speed and accuracy that give his typing the mark of the master. He knows typing, can type, and knows he can type: he is a master typist. Though he is a master he readily fails one test that a less trained typist can manage with ease. This is the keyboard recall test. The master cannot quickly recite the keyboard from memory, for he has forgotten the locations of the letters. But in spite of his "forgetting" we cannot truthfully say he cannot type, nor that he is not a master typist.

So "forgetting" in this sense means that we no longer have to rely on ordinary conscious thinking. This is the desired end-product of training. You simply do it and that's it. But that's not the same as being forgetful. Once I was showing a new student a basic form, one that I've done a thousand times. About midway through I was completely lost. Teaching is not the same as doing, as I found out, and it was this new perspective that threw me.

There's a story about the mystical Morihei Ueshiba. One day after finishing a particularly arduous training session, the master was out in his garden meditating when suddenly there was a flash of light, the ground began to shake, and he forgot every martial arts technique he ever learned. And thus, Aikido was born. Both Ueshiba and Draeger emphasized that through dedicated training, one forgoes or forgets the self - the ego, in order to become one with their art. This is the way to technical mastery.

Wanna Fight?

Most people get into the martial arts simply to learn how to defend themselves. Indeed, self-defense is a common euphemism for traditional martial arts (as opposed to the competitive variety or MMA). Sports such as wrestling or boxing will draw a camp that have natural inclinations to do battle. The peculiarity of the martial arts is that its adherents are taught to walk away from trouble. But we all have met those who actually enjoy a good fight. As an ethnic group, the Irish are likened to having a propensity to fight. Donnybrook, Ireland was the site of a fair held for centuries until it was discontinued in 1855 due to massive brawling. Hence, a donnybrook came to be known as any group-like melee. The Irish-Americans that I know relish their fighting heritage, so I can't be accused of stereotyping. That's not my intention anyway.

Students that enjoy kumite (sparring) tend to progress well with this activity, irrespective of any athletic deficiencies. They like to fight, ergo they experiment and research various methods, perhaps more than the next trainee. Technical ability is great, but it still takes guts (hara) to fight. A fine instructor once told me that fighting was 20 percent technique, 80 percent nerve. For some, getting up nerve is a major problem. For others it's a veritable party.

If fighting really appeals to you, doesn't this make you a potential troublemaker? Isn't this antithetical to the spirit of budo? A bushi is a warrior, which implies that combat has some higher, loftier purpose than just someone who engages in contests. Choki Motobu would routinely field-test his fighting skills in his pursuit of Okinawan karate. Clearly this man liked to fight, but his reputation denied his admission to nearly every dojo on the island. As youths, Ed Parker and Bruce Lee actively sought out street matches to gauge their progress. Certainly, their contributions are undeniable.

In John Stevens' Invincible Warrior there are a series of old photos in the back of the book that depict Morihei Ueshiba performing something called "Smiling Technique Variations". Sure enough, we see the master beaming as he throws one of his poor disciples clear across the room. The author didn't elaborate, but it reminds me of something Winston Churchill once said: "I like a man who grins when he fights."

Visions of Violence

To see and listen to the wicked is already the beginning of wickedness. - Confucius

Aikido founder Morihei Ueshiba is credited as the author of aphorisms taken from lectures and poems that would eventually be compiled into The Art of Peace. Ueshiba's message herein is that non-violence and compassion are the utimate hallmarks of the warrior. It's ironic that the O'Sensei took this stand, given his own teacher was a ruthless butcherer who would cut down anyone who crossed his path. Fortunately, he had the wisdom to not emulate his master and cultivated a different way.

Is it really conceivable to transcend violence when our culture is so immersed in it? Everyday we're bombarded with news reports of civil unrest, terrorism and otherwise ordinary people gone berserk. What's so unsettling is that these sort of grisly events have become the norm in the news. Worse still is how we as a society have become so desensitized to these things. Violence, bloodshed and mayhem exist not only in newscasts, but perversely in our entertainment outlets: graphic martial-art video games, rap music that espouses gang violence, and movies that depict torture scenes just to name a few.

Like Ueshiba, are we capable of seeing the folly to all of this, or do these gruesome images take their toll on us in some way? Research has shown that extended exposure to violence leads to brain activity patterns that may be characteristic for aggressive thoughts. Monkey see, monkey do so to speak. Not that we're incapable of separating fact from fiction or putting a horrific news report into its proper perspective on a conscious level, but rather that we are affected subliminally.

It seems nearly impossible to have any faith in concepts such as non-violence and compassion when we're force-fed a nonstop barrage of man's inhumanity to humanity. Should the media take more of an active role in not sensationalizing bad events? We too have the choice to not partake in a pop culture that glorifies violence and even murder. I'm not suggesting that we cut ourselves off from reality or view life through rose colored glasses, but we need to realize that the constant depiction of violence in our daily lives can have profound ramifications on us, and especially our children.

The Skillful Teacher

We've all heard the saying, "Those that can, do; those that can't, teach." There's no guarantee that someone who's highly proficient in their subject matter can teach their skill. In fact, quite often it's gifted people that have trouble understanding why others don't have the same knack they do. I certainly don't believe the opposite is true: that incompetent slobs make qualified teachers. Mario McKenna has an interesting article in this vein which in part discusses the surprisingly wide spectrum of talent and ability that exists in karate instructors. While I don't think one has to be an expert to teach at some level, a fair degree of proficiency should be expected. At the very least, a good teacher should be a decent technician in their art and be able to explain every nuance with clarity.

So how good is your teacher? I don't mean as a sensei but as a practitioner? Aside from her/his ability to present the martial arts, are you at least reasonably convinced this person could handle themselves if they were actually attacked? Does your teacher spar with you? There's a perception of the martial arts master as an invincible warrior, no matter how old or wizened he is. Aikido's Morihei Ueshiba would offer a kaiden (teaching license) to any student who could even so much as catch him off guard at any time. Nobody ever succeeded, even when attempts were made when the master was supposedly sound asleep or even on the toilet! Now there was a Kodak moment if there ever was one.

Most instructors are highly skilled in some area, whether it's sparring, kata, or even fitness. In this day and age an out-of-shape teacher isn't very marketable, regardless of their level of proficiency. The best instructors tend to be multi-faceted so students can make their own adjustments as to what works best for them.

Losing My Religion

I've been reading some thought provoking articles concerning the curious mixing of Christianity and the martial arts. Patrick Parker's guest post at TDA Training was a response to Bob Patterson's original essay, and both provided good material. Now it's my turn, but instead of discussing Christian values' fusion with Asian combative systems and the advent of Christian martial-art organizations, I'll be taking a different slant: Devout Christians who are opposed to certain aspects of the martial arts, in particular Eastern thought's influence on them.

Recently I received an email from a reader (a Christian) who asked me to suggest a martial arts program for him, one that didn't include "Eastern religion" as part of the package. I obliged, explaining that while Taoism and Zen are the philosophical foundations that most Asian martial arts are built upon, they are not theistic religions as we understand them in the West. Bowing, meditation, and other forms of dojo etiquette could be misconstrued as paganism to an outsider, but they're just part of the stock ritual that exists at most schools.

A born-again Christian who I trained with years ago refused to wear the Isshinryu karate symbol of the mizu gami - the water goddess - on his uniform per a certain Biblical commandment. I explained that the Isshinryu patch or any other school emblem was not designed to usurp divine authority, but he wouldn't budge on the issue.

The non-Christian Asian view of an almighty omnipresence is somewhat vague. In Taoism, "The Way" itself is sometimes equated with God. Zen, a common metaphor for the martial arts (and vice versa), does not recognize a Supreme Being whatsoever. Shinto is a unique religion indigenous to Japan that has no founder or moral code, but features an array of deities (kami). Aikido founder Morihei Ueshiba actually saw himself as a Shinto demigod, and stories of the O'Sensei disappearing in a flash of light to avoid bullets from marksmen only fostered his reputation as a mystic.

The martial arts should be presented as a secular discipline and are totally compatible with holding strong Christian views. Any references to the Buddha or Bodhidharma (the mytho-historical founder of Zen and martial arts in China) and the like are largely unnecessary and should be taken with a grain of salt.

Jesus' commitment to non-violence was not an open invitation for abuse, and I'd like to think that He wouldn't completely disapprove of the modern martial ways and their aims. Today, unfortunately, the martial arts god goes by a different name: money. But that's another story...

Internal Styles

Winning by yielding. Maximum efficiency with minimum effort. This is the distilled essence of internal martial arts. Interestingly, internal styles (which include tai chi, some schools of Chinese boxing, and aikido) are not always presented with combat effectiveness in mind, although their progenitors were bona fide warriors in a league with the early soke of karate and jiu-jitsu. The development of chi or ki (subtle yet highly potent bio-energy connected with breathing) and the ability to blend with an attacker's force are topics that are taught within all martial-art systems, but receive a special emphasis in the internal martial arts. Indeed, internal styles seen as a separate category of martial arts didn't even appear until the late nineteenth century, although its principles date back to antiquity.

Tai chi is quite possibly the world's oldest martial art. It is so old that its origins are lost. The practice of forms is the predominant method of training. The slow, connected movements of tai chi forms give them an aesthetic quality that make them beautiful to watch. In contrast to the typical two-minute kata of karate, the famous Long Form of tai chi can take more than half an hour to complete! Although serenity of mind and fitness are the modern goals for the practitioner of this ancient system, self defense applications do exist and enormous power can be generated through its movements via the summoning of chi/energy.

Like judo, aikido is a modern style developed from jiu-jitsu. Its founder, Morihei Ueshiba, rejected what he saw as the harmful warrior philosophy of his day in creating his "art of peace". The O'Sensei wanted to create a style that was strictly defensive in nature. Circular movements without breaks are used, and focuses on those techniques that keep one from close contact with an assailant. A deeply spiritual art, there is no competition in traditional aikido.

If you do karate and you're a kobudo enthusiast, it may interest you to know that internal styles feature an interesting array of weapons. Sword forms are taught in tai chi. In bagua, specialized weapons include the saber, the spear, and deer horn knives, which have two crescent-shaped blades that are crossed.

Most of the people that I know who have been involved in teaching karate for many years hold the internal martial arts in high regard. The nature and methods of these styles seem to lessen the frequency and severity of training related injuries typically seen in karate, especially as one ages. Pursuing an internal style later in life might not be a bad idea. We're not getting older, we're just getting better.

Aged To Perfection

Years ago I remember watching a broadcast of The Tonight Show that featured a 90-year-old woman who had recently accomplished the amazing feat of earning her black belt in karate. She came onto the set wearing her full gi and at the end of her interview with host Johnny Carson, proceeded to break some boards with a series of powerful front snap kicks. What I found even more impressive than this woman's physical skills was her lucid demeanor; her mind and resolve were as sharp and sound as her body. Can something like training in the martial arts actually retard the aging process?

Exercise has been proven to extend longevity in people. Too much exercise is actually detrimental to health - this too has been proven. Japanese judo coaches found that when their competitors cut down on their previously relentless training regimens, they performed better in matches. The Germans have developed de-conditioning programs for their Olympic athletes because it was discovered that at their level of performance, arthritis and cardiomyopathy (heart enlargement) resulted from the drive for the gold. In a rather disturbing survey, Olympic athletes from around the world were asked if given the choice, would they prefer to relinquish competing and live long or win a gold medal and die young. The majority chose the latter. For them the agony of defeat is a more terrifying prospect than the inevitabilty of death.

The Wise Old Man is an idealized archetype in most cultures that dates back to antiquity. In the East, the elderly are generally revered and held as bearers of experience and adepts of skillful living. Examples of this can be found in the martial arts: Aikido founder Morihei Ueshiba and the fictitious Mr. Miyagi from The Karate Kid movies to name two. Some of those stories about the O'Sensei make Miyagi look like a hack and should be taken with a grain of salt. In contrast to his message of peace and harmony, Ueshiba was reputed to be a brutal taskmaster, particularly with his uchi deshi (live-in students). Miyagi made poor Daniel-san perform seemingly endless mundane tasks to develop his character and motor skills. Plus he got alot of nice work done around his yard just for teaching karate. Wise old guys get that way because they've figured out how to deal with the young.

Revenge

In the West, the ability to live well is considered the best revenge. Revenge is referred to in the Bible as "an eye for an eye...". In the East, revenge is very serious business, and is a dish that is best served cold. This is a topic that gets more than its fair share of attention in certain warrior codes. If a samurai's master was murdered for whatever reason, he had to fulfill a giri (profound obligation) to even the score, and this could take years. Today, those who may have been victimized come to the martial arts to exact retribution on the next potential abuser. This is actually avenging, which is considered just and even honorable. Revenge is really an admission of pain; that to commit revenge implies bringing some sense of relief or satisfaction. My guess is that to succeed at revenge can only bring more misery.

Revenge is exclusively ego driven and desirous, and the so-called reason for it is usually blown out of proportion. Such is the nature of the ego. When aikido's Morihei Ueshiba spoke of the "enemy lurking deep within", he was obviously using this as a metaphor for the egoic mind. Vengeance of any kind always bears the fruit of karma. Even when a ronin avenged the death of a master, he was obliged to commit suicide (seppuku). Revenge is never sweet.

Keeping It Real

Reality training in a martial arts school is not as simple as it may sound. Quite often, uke and nage over-cooperate with one another in self-defense drills to the detriment of learning proper function and technique. Donn Draeger recalled one of his instuctors wacking him over the knuckles with a wooden bokken because he failed to hold his weapon properly. Aikido founder Morihei Ueshiba instructed his disciples to attack him full force with spears. These days, students wear head gear, chest protectors, and hand guards - I'm all in favor of safety, don't get me wrong, but sometimes safety equipment can do more harm than good in preparing students for actual battle. Jiu-jitsu ground-fighting takes on a whole new meaning when it's moved from the mat to the concrete sidewalk.

Training in the martial arts should be approached with passion and conviction. When training with a partner, make her/him work! Make it as real as possible. Pretending uke is a jerk or bully works wonders. Realize your bujutsu skills will be most sorely tested away from your school, your sensei, with your shoes on, and quite possibly with a loved one in your presence. Remember, how you train is how it happens.