Are We Having Fun Yet?

 

There was a blogger that I used to link to that lived in a dojo at some kind of an enclave that housed aikido students (the blog has since been removed). He was an ushideshi, literally, a resident disciple. The deal was you go to Japan for about a year, live in a temple with the master and the other deshi, train, do chores, go shopping, and do household miscellanea, all the while angling for a black belt. The implied real goal was to become immersed into Japanese culture and the concept of budo, martial arts as a way of life, which along side of self defense techniques has a moralistic, spritual core. Ruffians and scrappers need not apply. I deeply admire anyone who aspires to a year of sacrifice to such commitment (and money). Clearly this is not a path for those who think they're less-than-serious martial artists. Not everyone is seeking a 'way of life.' 

I recently saw an internet meme that read "Martial Arts Is Not A Hobby", but as I see it, martial arts can be anything you wish it to be, especially if you're doling out monthly payments to a place in a strip mall. Then I saw this on reddit:

 

My daughter is 11 and has some focus issues and joining Tae Kwon Do class helps her tremendously with physical fitness, discipline and she thrives on the structure of it. I've had at least 5 MMA bros tell me that Tae Kwon Do is fake, BS and not real fighting. Like [...] dude - she's 11 years old, not a cage fighter and she likes standing in a line and kicking.

 

Roughly half of adults 18 - 44 consider themselves a fan of combat sports. Small wonder 'MMA bros' is a thing. Aside from kids who make up a sizeable portion of just about any traditional martial arts school, adult practitioners of martial arts benefit from discipline and staying fit too. But very few join a club to actively compete or to test their wares to see if it works. I've taken my training seriously, but I also enjoy the social interaction an adult class can offer. Being a karate hobbyist has afforded me the ability to enjoy my pastime with good cheer and at times a sense of humor. Laughter, it is said, is good medicine.  

 

I've noticed a hallmark of many high ranking instructors is their sense of humor, no doubt to offset many years of teaching the art of physical mayhem. Ever see the movie Full Metal Jacket? For his portrayal of a US Marine drill instructor, R. Lee Ermey should've won an award for best debasing wisecracks. Ermey, who in real life spent more than a decade in The Corps, was originally brought in as a technical advisor for the film, but his rendition of how an actual DI really behaves was so impressive that they decided to just give him the role. Many of his lines were unscripted and improvised by him. Absolutely brutal, but admittedly some of his rants were pretty funny. It's no coincidence that karate first came to the US courtesy of Marines stationed on Okinawa in the 1950s, and fortunately few of us ever had a sensei like Gunnery Sergeant Hartman. But for something as hard and painful as karate training in a legit dojo, having some laughs and fun in moderation can go a long way. Or to quote an iconic line from another military movie, "Lighten up, Francis."

Teachers As Fighters

Have you ever noticed that in baseball the team manager wears a baseball uniform? Now, he never partakes in the game; not to pinch hit or relieve the losing pitcher towards the end of the game. Aside from his senior appearance or the fact that he's maybe put on a few pounds over the years, the baseball manager is decked out like an actual playing member of the club. How interesting. In his heyday, the manager was a player with a major league team who typically had a decent record as a pro. After retiring as a player, he became a manager. It's a well paying job of course, but now it behooves him to give back to a sport that has been very generous to him. A good baseball manager possesses leadership, technical savvy, and when appropriate, wisdom, in order to guide his players to become a winning team.

In boxing, the coach is typically a trainer who has had at least some boxing experience, but not necessarily as a decorated amateur, let alone a prizefighter. Cus D'Amato, one of the greatest professional boxing coaches of all time, was never himself a professional boxer. I won't mention names, but some former world champions who have tried their hand at coaching had less than stellar results with their protégés. Teaching is not the same thing as doing. Perhaps mediocrity goes a long way when the disciple becomes the master.

Ah, yes—the master! This is the word I'm ginning up. Teachers in different categories mean different things. But in the realm of martial arts, mastery is something unique. In sports, the coach is a retired player, a player that may or may not have been an elite exponent of baseball, boxing or whatever. 

 

The martial arts master, however, is not only held as a master instructor, but a master practitioner. Now this is conjecture, thanks to legends, rumors, kung-fu flicks, and starry-eyed students delivering sermons on how their karate teacher or whoever can level ten people at a clip. Manager Tommy LaSorda, though he could deal with unruly players, umpires, and the not-so-rare bench-clearing brawl, would be hard pressed to hit one out of the park. Could trainer Cus D'Amato knock out an opponent in the main event? Of course not, nor would anyone expect him to. But the sensei or sifu is held to a different standard.

The romantic definition of the martial arts master is their mastery of multiple domains. This can be fraught with problems: Your sensei is not your shrink or financial consultant or life coach or buddy. (And while we're on the subject, I've seen the title of sensei thrown around like it was an "Employee of the Month" award. Being a black belt—in any style— does not automatically confer one to being called sensei.)

Boxing coach/fighter relationships, however, are replete with stories similar to genuine mentorships. By their account, some boxers have regarded their trainers as father figures who guided them away from what likely would have been a life of crime, drugs, and gang activity culminating in prison. And these relationships are certainly reciprocal, I'm sure. In a touching scene from Rocky V (1990), a wizened and wise Mickey Goldmill offers this heartwarming guidance to his disciple:

 

You know kid, I know how you feel about this fight that's comin' up. 'Cause I was young once, too. And I'll tell you somethin'. Well, if you wasn't here I probably wouldn't be alive today. The fact that you're here and doin' as well as you're doin' gives me—what do you call it—motivization? Huh? To stay alive, 'cause I think that people die sometimes when they don't wanna live no more. 

And nature is smarter than people think. Little by little we lose our friends, we lose everything. We keep losin' and losin' till we say you know, 'Oh what the hell am I livin' around here for? I got not reason to go on.' But with you kid, boy, I got a reason to go on. And I'm gonna stay alive and I will watch you make good...

...and I'll never leave you until that happens. 'Cause when I leave you you'll not only know how to fight, you'll be able to take care of yourself outside the ring too, is that okay?

 

Taking your lessons "outside" is a central precept in traditional martial arts.  When we come to the dojo we leave our hangups and worldly problems at the door. But we take the good lessons we've gleaned during dedicated training with us when we leave for the day. In this manner, karate-do becomes karate as a "way of life."

Consider this exchange Bruce Lee's character has with a student in the beginning of Enter The Dragon (1973). One-on-one he tells his young student, Loa, to kick him. After he fails to properly commit, Lee admonishes him. 

"What was that? An exhibition? We need emotional content. Try again." Loa then overexerts with an even harder kick, swatting air.

"I said 'emotional content.' Not anger! Now try again...with me." Lao finally launches a couple of decent side kicks, much to the approval of Lee.

"That's it! How did it feel to you?" As Loa ponders the question, Lee smacks him in the head.

"Don't think. Feel. It is like a finger pointing away to the moon." When Lee observes Loa merely looking at his finger he smacks him again.

"Don't concentrate on the finger, or you will miss all that heavenly glory. Do you understand?" Loa responds affirmatively by bowing, but again errs by losing eye contact with his master, receiving the trifecta smack upside the head. Poor Lao. A spiritual and technical lesson wrapped up in one. Does it get any better than this? Indeed it does, and Lee's summation here is sage advice for any martial artist.

"Never take your eyes off your opponent...even when you bow."

Loa bows, gazing intently at his master. Another day. Another lesson.

Toxic Masculinity

There was a movie a few years back called The Art of Self Defense. Despite the unassuming title, the film explores the pitfalls of encountering the wrong dojo to train at. The lead character is a milquetoast pushover who's afraid of his own shadow. After getting beaten and robbed he decides he's had enough and ends up taking karate lessons from a deranged sensei who encourages his new charge to be a violent psychopath. The student takes his misguided teachings into the real world with predictable results. I won't spoil things by revealing more, but not surprisingly, the story does not end well. Cultish behavior is nothing new in the martial arts, and with the advent of social media, young men are finding inspiration in the rather vile corners of the internet. 

My son asked me recently if I ever heard of a retired kickboxing/MMA competitor named Andrew Tate. I hadn't, so with a little digging I found that after Tate retired from competition he started to monetize online courses on how to get rich and "male-female interactions." His Hustler's University turned out to be a pyramid scheme targeting young men who were buying into his hype to become an alpha male. An alpha is the apex of male aggression and dominance hierarchy in the animal kingdom. Primatologist Robert Sapolsky has studied this in non-human primates and its relation to the highly stratified social structure of baboons*. In humans, being an alpha male is associated with narcissism, entitlement and even misogyny. In layman's terms, human alpha males are highly predisposed to just being assholes.

Tate's net worth supposedly puts him in the neighborhood of 50 million USD, but has since been kicked off numerous social media platforms (where he earns most of his money) for inciting violence and dehumanizing speech, particularly aimed at women. As of this writing, Tate sits in a jail cell in Romania awaiting a judge's decision regarding Tate's (and three others') involvement in a human trafficking scheme using women to create pornography for profit, among other charges including rape. I don't know if Tate's years as a world champion martial arts competitor led to his self-indulgent dysfunctional worldview of male dominance. Maybe he got messed up as a kid. A long held psychology axiom states that events that occur during childhood can reveal themselves in unpredictable ways later in life. I doubt that an undertaking in a traditional martial art style during his formative years would've put him on the right path (budo), but who knows? Would an early-life intervention have made a difference in a guy like Tate?

Jason Wilson runs a youth program for troubled boys in Detroit called The Cave of Adullam Transformational Training Academy, a quasi-martial arts facility that "is not a martial arts school but a Transformational Training Academy." Wilson, the chief instructor who cites a background in jiu-jitsu, judo, and kempo (but doesn't hold rank in any of these styles), teaches young men in a traditional dojo-setting the values needed to become an upright man and a decent citizen. Wilson muses how some martial artists can attain a black belt in their chosen style, but remain a white belt in the game of life.

"When I first started the CATTA, there were many “Scared Straight” programs in Michigan, and I had even participated in a couple", says Wilson. "However, I quickly discovered that inflicting trauma will never help a boy release it but instead teach him to suppress it. Nowadays, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a Scared Straight or Bootcamp program because discipline without love is ineffectual."

Maybe that's the antidote to toxic masculinity in young men: The understanding that the best and even worst of us have an innate need to love and to be loved. And the sooner the better. As The Beatles famously sang, "Love is all you need."

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

*Robert M. Saplolsky 2017. Behave: The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst. Penguin Press.

The Dojo Is My Universe

When you look out of your eyes at nature happening out there, you're looking at you. That's the real you. ⁠— Alan Watts

In a recently published research paper titled Sense of Coherence and Connectedness to Nature as Predictors of Motivation for Practicing Karate, 127 karate practitioners were examined to determine the connection between nature and motivations for training. The gist of the paper is that mental health and a sense of well-being is associated with karate training done in a natural setting. It's not surprising that people enjoy practicing outdoors on a nice day. Male and female trainees were observed and findings showed that feeling emotionally connected to the natural world was important for the physical fitness objective for both sexes. The study was undertaken, in part, due to a "pandemic of physical inactivity" and also because...

Martial arts belong to a particular group of sport disciplines which are very rarely practiced outdoors, especially when it comes to tournaments and competitions. Therefore, carrying out at least some parts of the training process in natural open spaces is justified, which would make it possible to use natural environmental elements as part of the training. The idea of harmonizing the training of martial arts with nature is also hidden in the well-known Japanese calligraphy of old warriors under the name “Sekai-dojo”―My “dojo“ (my gym), is my universe. All budo (martial art) students eventually realize that their behavior has changed and has been greatly influenced by the martial art discipline they practice. They become more conscious, braver, more careful, more attentive, and more respectful of others. They are able to better acquire natural principles in their philosophical context. They are able to exercise greater willpower, frankness, and generosity. This is followed by the next step: Introducing these virtues into ordinary life outside the dojo (gym). After this happens, the whole world becomes a large, wide dojo. Research shows that this attitude is particularly visible in athletes who engage in traditional forms of karate, which place an emphasis on values. Outdoor physical activity also provides more opportunities to achieve states of mental relaxation, which is so important in fighting sports that some even consider it fundamental.

The study goes on to show the relationship between Eastern philosophy and traditional martial arts. The connection to nature, however, was highly correlated to physical fitness goals associated with karate training. The paper also delves into the different goals of men and women for training in karate.

It's an interesting work that examines the karate way, it's unison with the natural environment, and ultimately, the path to overcoming one’s weaknesses.

Are All Fighting Systems 'Martial Arts'?

When I was a kid, the term martial arts meant fighting forms designed for self-defense that had distinct Far Eastern roots. We all came to know that judo, karate and kung fu were martial arts. In time, non-Eastern forms would be included, such as Krav Maga, Sambo, and Capoeira. Recently, a thread on reddit asks if Mike Tyson was one of the top martial artists of the last century. It really begs the question: Is boxing a martial art? For some, this broadens the definition of martial arts too much.

Of course, some martial-art styles don't engage in contests. Iaido, a Japanese sword-drawing art that utilizes pre-arranged solo forms, is one. Others such as Aikido is strictly defensive in nature. Traditional Aikidoka do not engage in contests like in sport Jiu-jitsu or Judo. In Karate, point-style matches are scored where strikes — particularly punches and kicks to the head — do not make full contact. Adherents would be foolish to think that training exclusively this way would prepare you for the real thing. It would be like thinking that playing flag football could get you ready for the NFL.

Bruce Lee, Miyamoto Musashi, et al., have said that in the martial arts the way you train is how it happens in real life. Musashi was a 17th century duelist who faced over sixty men in his life. Lee, who died in 1973, had a combat resume that's a bit sketchy. Joe Lewis, one of the great full-contact fighters who briefly studied with Lee, said in an interview that while Lee was a great teacher with a wealth of knowledge, he was not a fighter. Lewis is using the term fighter in the same way you would call a boxer a fighter. Lewis himself was a fighter of course, as was Bill "Superfoot" Wallace and Benny Urquidez, other karatemen who later became full-contact kickboxers.

So should all fighting systems be regarded as "martial arts"? Martial arts have roots in militarism. Are members of US Navy SEALs and Special Forces martial artists? Indeed, the Marine Corps has created a martial arts program dubbed the Ethical Marine Warrior, which has a philosophical core of honor, courage, and respect. Certainly, these are virtues that are consistent in the Japanese budo, the traditional martial arts and ways.

Strike First!

The title of this post comes from part of the motto of the Cobra Kai school from The Karate Kid movie. Cobra Kai is now a series on YouTube.* Yes, after 34 years, Daniel-san and bad guy Johnny ("Sweep The Leg") are back! These guys are in their fifties now, and they're still at it. Fifty is the new thirty-five. I'm pretty sure Johnny is still hawking "Strike First, Strike Hard, No Mercy" at his new Cobra Kai school. This idea is diametrically opposed, deliberately I assume, to one of the most fundamental tenets found in karate, among other styles. But the Cobra Kai "Strike First" stance takes no prisoners. "Strike Hard" is a no-brainer, I suppose. "Mercy is for the weak" is dysfunctional; roles can be reversed. What goes around, comes around.

In 1938, Gichin Funakoshi put forth 20 precepts for karate students to train and live by. His Twenty Guiding Principles of Karate contains the famous excerpt karate ni sente nashi, or "There is no first strike in karate." This basically implies that you don't provoke a fight; it does not mean that in the midst of what looks like a potential altercation — after all other options have failed — you wait to get laid out on the sidewalk. Deescalation isn't always available. Unprovoked attacks and sucker punches happen. If you're lucky enough to factor in time and distance, then reading intent or energy (shin or ki) is possible.

In traditional karate, there are two basic strategies in dealing with an aggressor:

• Go no sen. This means "after the attack." A basic example would be an aggressor steps in with a punch, you block and counter with a strike.
• Sen no sen. This is "before the attack." An aggressor announces he wants to kill you, and without hesitation you strike. This is like the old military aphorism "The best defense is a good offense."

It's easy to see how both of these concepts can be misconstrued. Waiting for an attack with the sole purpose for a counter and strike is a recipe for disaster. And the legal ramifications of kicking someone in the head because he flips you off should be obvious.

These concepts are not exclusive to karate, and there are more no sen principles in other arts, such as Kendo and Aikido. These strategies go into much greater depth than I describe. For a deeper study into these principles dealing with situational assessment in actual combat, check out The Book of Five Rings by the Japanese swordsman Miyamoto Musashi (c. 1645).


* This is only on YouTube's new "premium" channel. So yes, that means it ain't free. It's either a monthly rate, or pay-per-view.

3D Martial Arts (And An Old Tale)

Here's a visually dazzling site that includes a catalog of some Japanese budo (martial ways), ceremonies, calligraphy and stage performance arts. While the computer graphics and 3D renderings are impressive, the descriptions, interviews and demos provided are comprehensive and well done. Of the non-martial-art themes featured it was the art of the Tea Ceremony — Sado (also called Chadō) — that caught my attention. Tea Ceremony has a long history in Japan which was influenced in part by Zen; Zen also influenced the development of Japanese martial arts. This inspired the fable of The Samurai and The Tea Master:

A tea master came into the service of a nobleman named Lord Yamagouchi. He poured and prepared tea for his master gracefully and with perfection. Lord Yamagouchi was so pleased he presented his esteemed tea master with the robes and rank of a samurai, which was quite an honor. Occasionally, the lord took his tea master with him on trips.

On one excursion, the tea master found himself in a precarious situation while out and about by himself. After turning a corner, he was confronted by a samurai. Appalled, the samurai questioned why the tea master wore the robes of a bushi (warrior). The tea master explained that his lord presented him with the outfit and rank.

Outraged, the samurai then challenged the tea master to a duel to test if he was worthy of this accolade. The tea master, being who he was, could not reject such a challenge. He agreed to the duel, which was to take place the next day. Terrified, the tea master quickly enlisted the help of a local swordsman to teach him the art of combat. But the tea master was no warrior and a crash course in swordfighting proved to be futile. Having an idea, the sword teacher simply asked his charge to do what he knew best — to prepare him some tea. The tea master kneeled in seiza and cleared his mind. With the dignity, grace and calm required of any master he prepared the tea.

"That's it!" exclaimed the sword sensei. "What do you mean?" replied the tea master.

"You don't need to learn anything from me. When you meet your adversary tomorrow just pretend you're preparing tea. Your state of mind when you perform the tea ceremony is all that is required. Just hold your sword like you hold your chashaku (tea scoop)." The tea master could not comprehend how his respectful ceremony would prepare him for a fight to the death, but with no other recourse he took his teacher's advice and prepared for the showdown.

The following morning when he met his opponent, the tea master performed exactly as his sword teacher had instructed. The samurai had expected to see a quivering wreck of nerves, but instead his eyes fell upon a quietly confident, unshaken opponent. In fact, he thought that this was an entirely different person than the one he encountered the day before! So awed was he by the man before him that he bowed respectfully, asked for forgiveness, and retreated from battle without once raising his sword.

Glenn Morris: Profile Of A Ninja

Recently I received a copy of Shadow Strategies of an American Ninja Master by Glenn Morris (1996). Morris wrote a trilogy of these ninja books and I've previously reviewed one of them. (This post is not a new review, but an overview of the rather eccentric and controversial author who passed on in 2006.) All three works, which were written during the 90s, discuss the esoterica, history, and psychology of martial arts in general as Morris had an eclectic background. He held rank in Bujinkan Ninpo (a ninja ryu) and something called Nihon Karate Jujutsu, among others. Morris was a fan of mysticism and Jungian psychology. Testimonials from people he trained with credit him with mind-reading and the ability to generate ki (chi, qi) to greatly enhance self-defense techniques.

I realize that Morris' now-dated writing emerged in the aftermath of best selling books in the 70s and 80s by the likes of Fritjof Capra and Gary Zukav, who attempted to fuse hard science and mysticism. If Morris' books were published now there is little chance they would survive the scrutiny of a readership that is the predominantly info savvy critical-thinking crew who frequently visits Bullshido, an online forum debunking spurious claims made in martial arts. Without a doubt, Morris was out there in his views, but to his credit he was no Ashida Kim. Still, his combination of academic achievements and time spent teaching leadership courses and martial arts at colleges and abroad lend to a worldview and writing style that is unique and entertaining.

In his writings Morris laments that ninpo (ninja ways) have been misrepresented in the West, courtesy in part of a string of bad movies depicting ninja as crazed gymnasts (my personal favorite) and resulting in every huckster martial arts wannabe jumping on the ninja bandwagon. Following the ninja craze of the early 80s, comic book ad sales hawking shuriken (throwing stars) and ninja garb went through the roof. Suddenly, ninja masters appeared out of nowhere selling their wares.

(Click on image to expand)

Throughout his trio of works, Morris recounts his travels to Japan to train with the grandmaster of the Bujinkan, Masaaki Hatsumi (who for whatever reason occasionally dyes his hair purple), contacting colleagues via dreams, communicating with kami (spirits), and enduring the awakening of kundalini, the serpent energy that lies dormant at the base of the spine that when activated engenders superhuman strength and a sense of cosmic unity. The kundalini process is brought about by meditation, qigong, and specialized breathing practices associated with certain martial arts.

Before this is all dismissed as woo — let's not throw the baby out with the bath water — Morris does impart some conventional wisdom regarding the martial arts and the art of living. To paraphrase:

• Finding a qualified teacher in a true bugei (non-sportive combat art) will likely be a daunting but worthwhile undertaking.
• Take care of your body and mind with a meditation practice, exercise and healthy diet.
• To get ahead in life use your brain to acquire an academic degree or skill. The alternative is not pretty.
• Be kind to everyone you meet. Karma.
• The way is in the training. Keep going. Keep playing.

Bearing The Storm

There is something to be learned from a rainstorm. When meeting with a sudden shower, you try not to get wet and run quickly along the road. But doing such things as passing under the eaves of houses, you still get wet. When you are resolved from the beginning, you will not be perplexed, though you will still get the same soaking. This understanding extends to everything.

― Tsunetomo Yamamoto

Misperceptions

Look at this poster. The guy on the left is depicted as a musclebound thug covered in tattoos with cauliflower ears engaging in a blood sport. Maybe we should be grateful there is such a thing as MMA or this character would be in prison or the nuthouse, right?

Now observe the gentleman on the right. He's bowing in respect, an obvious by-product of self-mastery developed from a long time of training in an honored fighting tradition that ultimately has lofty, even peaceful aims. He is a disciple (and perhaps a teacher) of Budo — the martial arts.

Basically what this image is saying is that Traditional Martial Arts (TMA) are civilized and cultivate good qualities in its adherents while MMA is legalized headbashing that provides little more than a buglight for violent whackjobs. This just reinforces some unfair stereotypes, especially to laypeople. There are good and bad people in all walks of life. Don't be so fast to judge a book by its cover.

It's true that MMA has no official philosophy or written tenets of life principles like those found in TMA. But MMA doesn't automatically produce a crop of bad guys anymore than TMA can unconditionally change otherwise unsavory types into good citizens. As karate master Yasuhiro Konishi once said, "Karate aims to build character, improve human behavior, and cultivate modesty; it does not, however, guarantee it."

This Is A Traditional Dojo

Saturday I visited a karate school in Queens, NY where a longtime friend of mine now trains. As a visiting student from a different style I respectfully took my place in the back row where we all lined up at the beginning of class to bow in. Later I showed them my versions of Seisan and Kusanku kata that are common to our styles and then worked the corresponding bunkai from their system. I didn't go there to spar, but when I asked one of the seniors about sparring practice (kumite) I was taken aback by this exchange:

ME: How often do you guys spar?

STUDENT: This is a traditional dojo. We practice budo (martial ways) not sports.

ME: No kumite -- ever? The pre-set drills are nice, but wouldn't exploring some spontaneity be a good idea to see if what you're doing even works.

STUDENT (raising his voice): Kumite is not self-defense. Our system's self defense techniques are mined from the kata. Can't use them in sparring anyway, too dangerous. We don't do contests or hand out prizes or play games. We're totally traditional. That's our way.

By now I had everyone's attention. (This was a rank class for adults.) I was getting glaring looks from some of the older BBs and I was getting the impression I was wearing out my welcome. I really thought my question about kumite was rather benign. I agree that sparring or even heavy fighting is not "self defense". I admit that there are aspects of karate that are somewhat exclusive to one another. Freestyle fighting and self defense practice are one of those dichotomies.

Sparring has its uses -- and limitations. The same with kata. Kata and knowledge of their self defense applications will not teach one to "expect the unexpected." I believe that if your school doesn't employ some form of sparring you'll never get that feeling of adrenaline surge or butterflies or the uncertainty of working outside of your comfort zone. That's part of the martial way.

When Buddhists Attack

Donn Draeger once referred to Japanese martial arts as "plastic Zen". To really understand the Japanese martial ways (budo), says Draeger, one is required to appreciate Zen. When Buddhists Attack: The Curious Relationship Between Zen and the Martial Arts is a study in the historical parallel between these two rigorous undertakings. The goal of Zen is an understanding of one's true nature called satori. This is known to happen in an instant, either through comtemplation of a koan, meditation, or even mortal combat. There's nothing like someone trying to lop your head off to put things into perspective. For the archetypal Zen Warrior, compassion and ahimsa (non-violence), hallmarks of Mahayana Buddhism, take a back seat to fighting skill, keen awareness, and a disregard for death.

Author Jeffrey K. Mann, a longtime Goju-ryu karateka and accredited religious scholar (Ph.D), composes this work with authority and concision as he gives us a brief background on the life and teachings of the original Buddha (c.500 BCE) to the 28th patriarch, Bodhidharma, who arrived in China from his native India (or perhaps Iran) in the fifth century. Legend has it that when Bodhidharma brought the Buddhist gospel (Ch'an) to the Shaolin monastery he found the resident monks to be listless, so he devised a regimen of exercises to shock them out of their meditative stupor. These exercises eventually morphed into quan fa (unarmed self-defense). Ch'an Buddhism (Zen) and Shaolin quan fa began concurrently, though the credibility of these events and the very existence of Bodhidharma is cast in serious doubt by historians. Zen eventually found its way to Japanese culture from China in the thirteenth century.

The heart of Zen is meditation. The classical Japanese warrior practiced a form of seated meditation called zazen to develop present-moment awareness and the various mind states that most practitioners of traditional martial arts are probably familiar with, such as mushin (no-mind), zanshin (remaining mind), and fudoshin (indomitable mind), which are covered at length in the book. Dr. Mann points out that the majority of samurai, Japanese soldiers and budoka were not strict adherents of Zen, nor was Zen the only spiritual practice that influenced budo. Furthermore, the entanglement of Zen and the martial arts has been romanticized and exaggerated by pop culture and even academia. Still, the influence of Zen in the martial arts, both historically and in the present day, cannot be dismissed, nor should it be overstated. The book is a quick read at 208 pages. Sections include "Overcoming Self, Overcoming Others" and "Budō as Religion."

Never Bring A Gun To A Swordfight

Patterson's post on gun violence includes an image of a street sign proclaiming that "Real Men Use Fists" with a slash through a revolver that made me think of firearm use by samurai during feudal Japan. When relative peace finally emerged during the Tokugawa period (1603 - 1868) firearm use had come to be seen as ignoble. Maybe "real men" of this time didn't like to use guns, but the Way of The Sword was held in high regard. Budo culture now took root and swordfighting schools flourished. Kenjutsu skills were honed not primarily for combat, but as a means to develop character and inner self-control. Two major treatises were written during this period: The Book of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi, and The Life-Giving Sword by Yagyu Munenori, both of which delve into philosophy, psychology, and combat strategy (heiho) while giving little regard to any technical explanations.

Swords presumably cannot inflict the mass harm that a sidearm can, let alone an assault rifle. This didn't stop Sokaku Takeda from downing a group of Japanese laborers with his sword following a verbal altercation in the late nineteenth century. After he was acquitted, Takeda wised up and focused his efforts on the weaponless art of aikijujutsu.

In Western lore, the sword was the weapon of choice for the duel before pistols became fashionable. A pre-presidential Abraham Lincoln was challenged to a saber fight that he deftly wiggled out of*. A younger Lincoln, however, did manage to compete in a number of no-holds barred grappling matches^†, none of which ever resulted in a falality.

A while back I saw a review on a book describing actual swordfighting techniques called Street Sword: Practical Use of the Long Blade for Self-Defense. I haven't read it, nor do I plan to. For now, I'll just stick to hand-to-hand combat. Somehow I feel safer that way.



* Steven Pinker 2011. The Better Angels Of Our Nature: Why Violence has Declined. The Penguin Group.
^† Glenn J. Morris, Ph.D. 1998. Martial Arts Madness. North Atlantic Books.

Awareness

The eye must see all sides. The ear must listen in all directions. - from the Kenpo Gokui

The Zen monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, advises to practice mindful awareness with every waking moment. When opening the door, be aware of opening the door. Pick up the candle with two hands instead of one to accentuate mindfulness, and so on. That doesn't sound easy, does it? Think about really placing your full attention on every mundane task you do throughout the course of the day. To be thoroughly aware of every nuance and event within one's purview is the basis for meditation and the path to satori (enlightenment).

In classical budo the emphasis was on constant surveillance of one's surroundings. This made it to the modern ways as expressed in karatedo. Shotokan founder Gichin Funakoshi would demonstrate on his students how improperly held chop sticks could be rammed down the throat if one was caught off-guard. He would walk wide around turns in the street so as not to be surprised by a would-be attacker. In the dojo Funakoshi would deliver sound kicks to the back of the legs of students that he deemed weren't paying attention.

The problem with being on-guard all the time can be debilitating. In this way you're not alert at all, in fact, you're merely thinking about being alert. All one can really do is be awake, open-minded, and relaxed. Then the potential attack can be fended off effectively and swiftly without the mind being laden with a cacophony of "what if" scenarios.

The fact that our daily lives are invaded by ceaseless thoughts and preoccupations or "monkey mind" as they say in Zen are by-products of modernity and our culture. I consider the ability to ponder one's daily routines alongside of a job and whatever you have to do in the course of the day as multi-tasking, not some form of lower consciousness. Most people these days aren't cut out to be a Zen monk or a Japanese bushi.

Here's a good example of spontaneous right action to an attack, Spaghetti Western style. In the 1971 movie Red Sun, Charles Bronson's character attempts to ambush a samurai. We'll call this one a draw.

Cultivating Wisdom

The classic Chinese text, the Bubishi, was passed down through numerous generations of teachers to students of quanfa (kung fu) until it finally arrived in Okinawa in the mid-to-late 1800s where it had a profound impact on the development of karate. A diverse tome, the Bubishi covers an array of subjects on martial arts such as fighting techniques, healing methods, and philosophy.

I'm not an advocate of gleaning self-defense methods from a book, and traditional Chinese medicine is commonly viewed as snake oil by even modern Chinese physicians. But the following portion of this ancient text, ideas clearly inspired by Daoism, Confucianism and Zen, are timeless tenets to live by for anyone in any culture.

Laws of Wisdom

1. Let anger be your enemy.
2. Remember, an empty vessel makes the most noise.
3. Patience is the foundation upon which security and long life rest.
4. Know well your station in life.
5. Trustworthy reputations are only gained from virtuous merit.
6. Success is the fruit of the strong and wise.
7. Delay is the best remedy for anger.
8. Those who will be enlightened are the ones who live moderate lives, have simple tastes, consume natural foods, and pursue the wisdom of the sages.
9. Remain honest in your heart, true to your discipline, and refrain from overindulgence, and you will enjoy great rewards in life.
10. Mind your manners and your own business.
11. Discretion is the better part of valor.
12. The barriers of human achievement lie only in the mind.
13. An idle mind is a demon's workshop.
14. Justice exists for those who live according the Way, as these are one and the same.
15. Be happy without cause and make the best of what you have.
16. True friendship knows no boundaries.
17. It is a humble virtue to be wealthy and not affected by it.
18. Cause and effect are mutually consistent.
19. Despair is the conclusion of fools. Tomorrow's success is built upon yesterday's failures. Live in the here and now. Do not seek more but learn to enjoy less.

SOURCE: Patrick McCarthy 1995. The Bible of Karate: Bubishi. Tuttle Publishing.

Getting Your Priorities Straight

I find it interesting that karate teaches methods of mayhem alongside of social responsibility. At least that's what most schools strive for. Budo (martial ways) and bujutsu (martial methodology) are defined as having similar goals, but stressing different ones. The priorities that distinguish budo and bujutsu are laid out in Classical Budo:


Classical Bujutsu

1. combat
2. discipline
3. morals

Classical Budo

1. morals
2. discipline
3. aesthetic form

Note that 'combat' missed the top-three spot on the budo list. Apparently martial arts strictly as a combative system (bujutsu) give morals relatively short shrift. Being a moral person usually, but not necessarily, gives rise to other traits, such as politeness and humility as one karate blogger puts it. I agree these are desirable attributes to be found in the karateka.

This brings up a pertinent question: Is karate training really capable of transforming an otherwise brutish lout into a 'nice guy'? Traditionally, the master of a dojo would interview a prospective student to see where he was coming from. Drunkards, layabouts and alpha-male tough guys need not apply. The whole idea of learning self defense is to ward off these jerks in the first place.

I believe the "polite and unassuming" students one sees in the dojo likely started out that way before they ever stepped onto the mat. More than likely their training in a budo form accentuates already innate positive tendencies.

I've personally seen how transformative the martial arts can be. Those lacking in confidence, physical coordination and even social grace can make amazing progress in these areas as a result of dedicated training over a period of time.

But are traditional martial arts more about making good citizens or good fighters? I believe that budo - with its emphasis on morality and social responsibility - requires a combative core to make it all worthwhile. If a style or system gets too bogged down with philosophy or the "art" aspects to the detriment of realistic effectiveness, then it's simply not worth it. Equally, a style that lacks an understanding of right living is missing something very important.

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.

A Work In Progress

Pablo Casals, one of the great cellists of the twentieth century, never missed daily practice with his instrument for decades. One day someone asked him, "Señor Casals, you're ninety-three years old and you still practice everyday for three hours. Why do you do it?"

"Well," said the maestro, "I think I'm still seeing some improvement."

Has anyone considered the martial arts worthy as a lifetime pursuit? I don't mean in general or for the masses, but specifically for you. Everyone that I've known that's invested more than ten years in karate have done so mainly to teach. Without teaching, there's very little to motivate most people to train over the long haul. It is true that much can be learned from the teaching perspective, but it's not the same as training - as practice. The truth is, most instructors simply don't have time to train themselves.

So if you don't fancy yourself as a teacher, what do you do? You can still train on your own, but how can you gauge your own progress? You may think that the master can be the only reliable guide on the path of budo, but realize that the ultimate task of the true master is to transform the disciple into an equal.

Donn Draeger once said that the trainee should practice diligently, with heart-and-soul, but should never expect anything in return from training. Why train if I don't get anything out of it? Why bother training at all then?

We've all heard that saying, "Do what you love, love what you do." Certainly Pablo Casals couldn't have cared less about making improvements in his already masterful playing skill if he didn't have true passion for music in the first place. In this way the practice itself becomes the end, not the means. The way is in the training. Goal setting, while important conceptually, only begets more goals to acquire. But even that is a cryptic message. The real goal in martial arts advancement is to be process oriented. It's all here-and-now. And with that realization, all boundaries bust loose. As karate master Hohan Soken once noted, "Martial arts training has no limits."

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."

Finding Balance

There was a movie a while back called Gung Ho that comically depicts the high standards of the Japanese workforce. In reality, this intense work ethos may be what's responsible for the high suicide rate in Japan. A recent US survey reveals that the life expectancy for the average CEO after retirement is about thirty months. So even if your job doesn't kill you, not showing up for work doesn't fare so well either. Finding oneself without purpose after a lifetime of work and achievement must be akin to having the rug pulled out from under you.

I used to train with a woman with four young kids. Even after she earned her black belt she continued to train five times a week, teach on the same days and hold down another part time job. It was a bit much and her hectic lifestyle was palpable. Commitment is essential in the martial arts, but not when it morphs into fanaticism.

Do you consider yourself a devotee of the martial arts? What do you enjoy doing when you're not in the dojo? Do you have any hobbies besides your training? (My apologies to the devout budoka who may be offended by the notion that the martial arts are a "hobby".) When the medieval kenshi Miyamoto Musashi said "learn the ways of other men" he wasn't referring to different styles of combat. Judo founder Jigoro Kano and karate's Gichin Funakoshi were skilled in the art of calligraphy and poetry. Musashi made beautiful paintings, wood sculptures and hand guards for swords. These men set aside time for creative outlets as a way to counterbalance their considerable efforts invested in the martial arts. Training to the exclusion of all else leads to stagnation and craziness (kichigai). "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" said Jack Nicholson's character in The Shining. And we all know how Jack ends up.