Take It Easy

The martial arts, traditionally, is a very physical pursuit. Truly a labor of love, training in the martial arts taxes the human body like few things can. Energy (ki) flows most efficiently through an open channel, much like water flows through an unobstructed garden hose. Any impediment will not only block the delivery of energy, but will actually create a much greater demand for energy than is actually needed for the task. In other words, the ability to relax creates a state which utilizes martial arts techniques with premium efficiency. Speed and power are born of the relaxed state. Relaxation starts in the mind. Anxiety, rage and doubt - all fear based behaviors - are analogous to bending a garden hose that is supplying the water. Most negative psychological states create unconscious muscular contractions which interfere with proper execution of technique. Throughout the move, stay loose and relaxed; only at the end of the strike or block should the muscles contract - then immediately relax again. This describes the concept of snap. Snapping techniques actually involve staying loose through about 99% of the move.

While being in shape is a natural by-product of dedicated training, the inability to relax will definitely produce rapid fatigue. A performance of kata by a master practitioner clearly illustrates how important it is to loosen up in certain sections, then explode into a fusillade of punches and kicks in others. The "breaks" in the kata are very important; otherwise it would be one frantic volley of offensive tactics that would leave the practitioner exhausted. Proper breathing - which has been proven to produce a calming effect on the central nervous system, is yet another factor to consider. The ability to relax conserves energy, allows clear-minded awareness, and prepares the practitioner to strike with devastating power.

Only You

Since training in the martial arts cultivates self-reliance, it is the self that we should come to refer to as a reliable guide. Trophies, pats on the back, and colored belts are not necessarily reliable indicators of proficiency. In fact, they can and often become stumbling blocks. Occasionally, practitioners become attached to the idea of doing something well, but if someone else has other ideas (as in the form of a derisive remark), it can be a long and painful fall to the mat. Our desire for approval is directly proportionate to our repulsion to criticism; they are fundamentally born of the same seed of fear. The idea is to develop the capacity for self-reflection. This dissipates the need to rely on others for a sense of identity or value, otherwise this shaky sense of self follows us right into the dojo. To further compound the problem, there exists a rigid, almost militaristic hierarchy in virtually all martial arts schools that dictates and reinforce our so-called worth. Line Up! Black belts assemble in the front line, lower ranks in subsequent lines to the back of the deck. Whenever I visit a school, I'll line up next to a white belt, just to see if anyone notices. Humility is a lesson that is best taught without preaching.

A common term used to characterize the classical warrior was mizu no kokoro - mind like water. This is popularly defined as a reposed state of mind, akin to a calm lake. But there's more to it than just that. A body of water reflects back whatever comes its way, whether it's a bird flying overhead, or the vastness of the moon. It doesn't absorb, judge, or inflate itself with the image presented before it. The water doesn't ripple or move, it just is. Be that way. Be like the calm lake. Then whatever comes your way, whatever anyone says about you, you'll be able to take it graciously without it affecting who you really are.

Fitness Was The Way

Gichin Funakoshi had an idea. Upon arriving in Japan from his native Okinawa, he would demonstrate his brand of karate only before intellectuals. He reasoned that learned men, relying on brainpower as opposed to brawn, had come to neglect their bodies. Doctors, attorneys, university students, and artists of every stripe became the hand selected audience for Funakoshi's inspiring demonstrations and lectures. Funakoshi asserted that anyone who put in the time and effort could develop a karate physique, as he called it. That was one of his main selling points; to get in shape, and to reap the benefits of health and physical well-being through rigorous training in karate. Japan (c. 1920) was beginning to catch up to the West as a nation of advancement and technology. The white collar class there had begun to emerge, and thus Japanese men of that time had become less physically active than their predecessors. Karate, it seems, found a new home in Japan, and had arrived in a timely manner.

Funakoshi was hardly the first to advocate a fitness oriented regimen for a scholarly group. According to legend, the Zen master Bodhidharma arrived in China around 500 AD, settling at a Buddhist monastery known as the Shaolin Temple. Dismayed and surprised at the poor health of the residing monks, he prescribed exercises to strengthen and condition their atrophied bodies. Over time, these exercises became more structured and systemized, developing into self-defense applications. This gave rise to chuan fa, or more popularly known as kung fu. Tai chi, one of the world's oldest martial arts, is generally practiced today for its health benefits. Ultimately, the purpose of martial arts training is to strengthen all three human components: mind, body, and spirit.

Lose Yourself

Does anyone remember the very first time they stepped onto the mat? How about the first time you were expected to kiai for a form? Did you feel strange, awkward or embarrassed? Self-consciousness is a barrier that many new students need to overcome, and as a rule of thumb, it should be approached in its own time and way. Confidence means believing in oneself. Becoming one with the task at hand is different. To illustrate this, here is a famous Zen story:

A wrestler named O'Nami, "Great Waves", was immensely strong and highly skilled in his chosen art. In private his skill was unmatchable - he defeated even his own teacher. And yet in public demonstrations, ordinary laymen could throw him without difficulty.

What happened? How could a man of such talent, who was capable of beating his own teacher, lose to anyone in public? In public, O'Nami felt pressured and threatened. He felt a sense of separation between himself and what he had to do. His occupation became a preoccupation. So O'Nami sought out the guidance of a local Zen master...

"Great Waves is your name", said the master, "so stay in this temple tonight and listen to the sound of the sea. Imagine you are those waves, forget you are a wrestler and become those huge waves sweeping everything before them."

O'Nami remained. He meditated all night on those waves - it wasn't easy though, he had distractions, unnerving thoughts interrupting his composure. But in time he prevailed with this exercise, and by morning he realized a new found vibrancy. That day, he entered a public wrestling tournament and won every bout, and from that day on, no one in Japan could ever defeat him.

When practicing martial arts, don't be the artist; become the art.

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.

One Strike, One Kill

Many practitioners don't realize, or forget, that weapons came first in the martial arts. Jiu-jitsu, one of the forerunners of the empty-handed systems, was actually developed much later than the classical choice of weapon of feudal Japan: the sword. The sword (ken) was considered the soul of the classical warrior in both the East and West. Almost any cut delivered during a medieval swordfight was lethal and final. It should go without saying that both the kenshi and chivalrous knight took their training quite seriously.

Weapons are taught alongside most modern martial art systems. On Okinawa, customary weapons were banned on and off for centuries by various invading kingdoms. Ingenuity became the way of strategy and deception and kobudo was born. Since farming was a way of life there, its implements could be used as authentic weapons if the need arose. Kobudo, while considered as an integral part of traditional karate, is really a system unto itself. In Japan, kendo (the way of the sword) is actually regarded as the quintessential budo form, in part, because of its roots to kenjutsu (swordfighting). In iaido, practice involves removing a live blade from the scabbard as quickly and efficiently as possible. This idea brings to mind the gunslinger drawing his revolver from the holster during the wild shootout days of the Old West. Weaponry is yet another aspect of the martial arts that remind us that traditional training's original focus was about life and death.