May the Force be with you...or the Science.

It’s been an interesting time lately at the dojo.  With the stress and work of a gruelling grading fading into the past, we’ve started delving into different areas.

We’re working on incorporating qi/chi, or energy work into our Jiu Jitsu.  My Sensei has spent years and years studying Qigong (also known as Chi Kung).  While he does lots of healing work, acupressure and acupuncture, he also incorporates chi into his martial arts, making them that much more effective.

We’ve been doing a bit of meditation and working on breathing and building up and using chi.  There are several references to gates, to dantians, to breathing, to channels, to fire, water etc.  These are all components of Chi Kung and traditional Chinese and energy arts.

First off, meditation and ‘mindful’ breathing which focuses on the lower dantian (or belly breathing for lay people like me), is a great thing to do.  It focuses the mind, blocks out lots of the ‘noise’ of life and generally makes you feel good. 

We’ve been focusing on building up chi during these exercises and then using that energy in our technique.

The result? 

My techniques have been far more effective, requiring far less effort (strength).  In fact, I’ve been getting surprised when my training partners start madly tapping before I’ve even really started to ‘sink’ it in.  I’ve had to start being very careful not to accidentally injure my partner when projecting energy into techniques.

There’s definitely something to this.

Is it magic?  The force?  Is there really a gas tank you can fill with the energy of the universe that can be unleashed on your foe? 

Or is there a scientific reason?  Can it be that the very act of focusing, of actively making the body work together as one, cause synapses to fire, long and slow twitch muscle fibres to work synergistically?  Can it be that a whole host of physical and physiological processes occur to achieve this economy of motion and effectiveness of technique application?

The answer?

I don’t care.

It doesn’t matter to me what causes it, as long as it works.

Now normally, I’m not the sort of fellow that just accepts things.  In fact, in martial arts and in life, I usually refuse to accept things without careful scrutiny or deliberation and thought.  In this case, however, it matters not.

There are a couple of reasons. 

#1.  I like to believe that there are some intangible things inherent to the study and journey of the martial arts.  I still believe there is some magic in the world, things that can't fully be clinically defined.  We are all made up of energy, after all. 

#2.  I’ve seen some proof.  I’ve had masters do things to me that I still can’t quite figure out, like sending my rather large frame flying half way across the room having barely moved a muscle.

Also, there have been numerous occasions and documented cases of feats of incredible strength or self healing.  Parents have lifted cars off trapped children.  And science has shown how some people can speed healing to areas of injury through energy work and focus. 

So, I guess I have scientific proof that magic exists.  Hmmm, kind of talked myself into a corner on that one… 

But that’s exactly my point.  Be it science, or be it chi energy, if it works, what does it matter?

If you need science to explain it to make sense to you and therefore you can apply it, learn about the science.

If you need chi to explain it to make sense to you and therefore you can apply it, learn about chi.

With chi work, some people envision it being a force, some think of it as electricity, some as a wave.  Whatever they need to do to access it is fine.  It’s finding a way to use something, and use it well, that matters.  If you envision a more scientific process occurring in your body, that’s just as good, as long as it works. 

Normally I need to know the inner workings of things, a more clinical understanding of the ‘why’ to make something my own.  It looks like even with this type of need, there are different methods, or paths, to understanding. 

Some people say magic is just something science has yet to understand or explain.  Some think science and magic are one in the same.

What do I say? 

My Jiu Jitsu is better.  That's what I know.  For now, that’s enough.

The Path of Budo - Noise

Noise.

Life has been crazy of late. 

Not enough hours in the day. 

Busy at the dojo.

Busy at work.

Busy at home.

Conflicting priorities.

Everything seems rushed. 

Stressed.  All the time.

Tired.  All the time.

Work/Life balance.  Yeah right.

Sound like anyone you know?

I wonder what to do about it?  We’re so driven as a society for the acquisition of material things that I wonder if we’re missing out on some of the really important stuff.  In fact, I know we are.

All this stuff.  The stress. The long hours.  The fatigue.  The bills.  The commitments.  The housework.  The homework.  The overtime. 

A thousand things.

I call it noise.  I’m living a noisy life.  So are many of the people I know.  Most of the people I know.  Rush rush rush.  It’s a drain. 

I bring this up not to complain.  After all, I’ve got it pretty good.  I’m just not sure I’m spending the proper proportion of my time and energy on the things that matter most.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately.  I’ve been thinking about living a more minimalist life, quieting my life.  Reducing the noise.

I think from time to time you need to evaluate what is truly important in your life and make sure that you are taking care of those things, first and foremost. 

I’m going to meditate on this for a while.

I suspect this is all part of the path of Budo.

Something to think about.

Lessons in Budo - Humility

The last couple weeks have been busy with belt grading at our dojo.

Just as with belts themselves, I have mixed feelings on formal testing.  Some are positive, some are negative.

It’s done for a while, likely quite a while.  My Sensei doesn’t believe in rapid ascension through the ranks.  It occurs to me that part of the journey with him is that of humility.  He decides when, and if, people test for a belt, and there is no automatic time frame or schedule.  This may not be the best business model for profit, but then again, he isn’t in it for the money.  Years ago, he moved away from having a commercial dojo.  He now has a small group of dedicated students and he teaches on his terms, which is fine with us lucky enough to call him Sensei.  While we are associated, or friends of, larger schools, his standards are his and his alone, and they’re high.

Personally, I wouldn’t have it any other way.  You work for it, through blood, sweat and tears.  No student in our dojo ever need feel that they haven’t earned a ranking.

I share my teacher’s belief that your motivation shouldn’t be a ‘shiny new belt’.  In fact, we trained with no belt colour for the first couple of years when I returned to him.  It wasn’t until he decided to take on a few select students that rankings of any sort were added.

Here’s the conflict – from time to time students do want to be recognized for their study.  It’s really a non issue while we’re actually in our dojo, but that little hint of ego (is it ego?) can pop up when visiting other schools or attending seminars or demonstrations.

I’ve had the opportunity to attend quite a few great seminars or events with martial artists from a variety of different styles and schools.  It doesn’t take long to get to know the ‘regulars’.  From personal observation, I’ve seen a few of these students who have a higher belt each time I see them. 

I’ve seen one martial artist who I met as a white belt that has climbed 6 belt colours (in his belt system) since the last time our Sensei did a grading.  This isn’t to suggest that he didn’t deserve them or work hard for them (we are talking years here), but it’s interesting none the less.

Some students can have trouble dealing with this situation, feeling that they ‘deserve’ the next level.  They would probably not last in our dojo. 

There are valuable lessons to be learned here, such as humility as previously mentioned, and patience, and discipline.  

One of my loftier goals is to never be touched by ego.  While I aspire to be completely free of any desire for the next level, I wouldn’t be completely honest if I didn’t say that, over the years, on occasion, I’ve coveted the next level, rank or designation.      

There are a couple reasons:

The first one I’m ok with.  Having a visual indication of experience automatically puts you ‘at the grown up’s table’.  In mixed groups, you are usually paired by belt or dan groupings.  It’s always a pleasure to train with experienced people from different styles.  You can learn just as much from working with newer people, mind you, but in some situations, (such as a seminar) working with similar ranks can maximize your learning while minimizing the chances of unintentional injuries.  Simply put, you can go harder and faster in the short time you are there.

The second isn’t quite as altruistic.  Ego can rear its ugly little head from time to time.  While I think people naturally like to receive praise or be recognized for their accomplishments, it should be by your skill level and attitude, not by the colour of your belt.

I don’t know if I’ll ever completely banish any inkling of ego, but I am working on it.  I know this is part of my journey.  It’s one of the main reasons that I ditched any and all belts from my meandering martial journey and started over when I re-connected with my Sensei several years ago.

There will likely not be another grading in our dojo for several years.  I’m ok with this. It keeps ego at bay, teaches humility and patience, and removes the pressure and distractions of prepping for a test.

This style or timeframe isn’t for everyone, and it’s not the only way to go.  Some schools or styles promote their students more quickly than others.  The requirements of the teacher for different levels can vary greatly.  Some schools may promote to black belt in two or three years of dedicated study, some may require ten or more at minimum.  Neither is necessarily right or wrong, they’re just different approaches.  As long as you’re always striving to do better and to keep learning, it probably doesn’t really matter how long it took you to get to a certain 'recognized' level.

At the end of the day, it only really matters what you think and what you know.  If you are not confident that you can apply what you’ve learned in a real life situation or violent encounter, it doesn’t matter one bit what colour your belt is.  Ideally, this should be the only measure of success or progression that you need.  In reality, this is often easier said than done. 

I may post soon on some of my thoughts on the actual grading, but for now, I’ll let my body keep recovering from the pounding it took…

Food for thought.

Train well with a beginners mind. 

Lessons in Budo - An Open Mind

One of my hopes in authoring this blog was to have a written record of where my mind (and body) were during my journey.  A 'snapshot' in time, if you will.  

I had hoped that if I could maintain an open (or beginners) mind, that some of my opinions would change or alter over time.  After all, I've said from the start that as soon as you close your mind, you stop learning and you stop improving.

Well, here's something I didn't think would happen.  I've changed the way I look at the good old hip throw. After years of not really having any use for it, or seeing much value in it, I've recently become a fan.  

Why?  Well, I'd like to say it's because I did a deeper study in the biomechanics of it, that I delved into the history of this well worn technique or that I sought out an expert specializing in balance points and levers, but none of that's true.  

The answer is that all of a sudden (relatively speaking), I got good at it.  After years and years of struggling with it, not getting low enough, torquing my back, losing my balance and using too much strength, it just got easy.  It was as if a switch had been thrown, everything just 'clicked' and it all came together.  

I'm still not entirely sure what I'm doing differently.  That's the strange thing about it.  I'm not consciously doing anything different.  The only thing I can put a finger on is that I've made sure I keep moving throughout the entire throw.  Instead of breaking it down in my brain, I'm just trying to 'feel' it, to 'go with it'.  I've actually stopped thinking about where to plant my feet, how low to go, when to swivel etc.  And it's working.  In fact, I'm actively trying not to analyze what I'm doing, or what I'm doing differently.  

This was inspired, in part, by watching a guy climb a tall ladder to get on a roof.  I watched him near the top of the ladder and just continue to step, from rung to roof.  I realized that he just kept moving.  He didn't stop, examine his next footfall, place his foot carefully and push off.  He just kept moving.  Had he stopped to ponder each detail of his next move, he may have put himself in peril of a misstep.   I saw a parallel to my challenges with the hip throw.  It's sort of like increasing the chances of someone tripping by telling them not to trip.  The mere fact that they thought about tripping dramatically increases their chances of doing so.  

Budo is everywhere, after all, not just in the dojo...

I suspect there's more to this lesson than I've managed to uncover, but suffice to say, I now kind of like the hip throw.  Where for many years, I couldn't imagine a time where I'd ever use it, I now find opportunities for the hip throw popping up everywhere.  I find myself balanced and my opponent unbalanced.  I find that an advancing attacker can quite often easily be thrown.

I wonder if it's like learning a new word.  It seems every time you do, you hear it spoken or read it in print over and over again.  Something you didn't even know existed is all of a sudden everywhere.  Or is it that they, like opportunities for the hip throw, were always there, but it was you that couldn't recognize them?    

Food for thought.

Bad Habits in the Martial Arts - Part II

In Part I, I identified and discussed what I believe is a serious issue in the world of martial arts today - The practice of tailoring attacks to fit defenses. 


I had a lot of great comments on that post.  


So now that I've identified the problem...

What can we do about it?

Well, it’s not the easiest thing to fix.  It’s actually a bit more complicated than it might appear on the surface.  So, what does it take?

1. An understanding of what real attacks look like.  In a safe training environment, it can be challenging to have people attack realistically, especially if they’ve never been involved in real violence before.  You must balance the need for scripted attacks based on real world probability and the need to have an element of unpredictability. 

2. The decision not to stop if your partner attacks incorrectly.  Figure it out. If your intended technique doesn’t work, adjust it or change it to one that does.  Only after successfully working through it should you request the ‘proper’ version for the next time.

3. The understanding that you need to break away from exact responses to exact techniques.  As time goes on, the requested technique/defense selection should get broader.  For example, ask for an arm lock or a wrist throw from a punch, but leave it to the attacker to decide which type.  Or from a grab, any type.  This way you have a general goal in mind, but the attacks, and subsequently your responses, will have to vary.  This will help you develop the mental flexibility and the physical skills needed to respond to the unpredictable nature of a real violent encounter.

4. Building on number 3 - Use randori, or free practice.  No set attacks, no set defenses.  Just spontaneous attack and defence, preferably with multiple attackers.  You’ll quickly forget about someone attacking wrong and you’ll just do what you have to do.  See previous posts on Randori here.(links to several in post)

5. Testing criteria should take all of this into account as well.  In my system (the one I study), the higher the belt ranking, the fewer the number of techniques are outlined in ‘required’ lists.  Instead of having each technique listed and from what attack, it simply lists things like:

THROWS:

Type - Hip (3 variations)

Attack – Punch/Kick/Grab - Any

In this example, it could be any punch. Then any kick.  There’s still structure for required techniques and an order for grading, but a certain degree of spontaneity is maintained. 

Go higher and you’ll find:

THROWS:

Type - All

Attack - Any

Essentially controlled, or led, randori. 

Earlier belt grading will have set lists which outline the specific attack and the specific response required.

Anyone can spend enough time and memorize a set number of attack/defense combinations.  On the surface, demonstrating forty techniques in a row from a lapel grab or a choke may look impressive, but in truth, it doesn’t tell you too much about the student’s ability to defend themselves.  The same can be said for kata, but that's a topic that deserves it's own post.

I’d rather see three or four well performed responses in randori. The true measure of success is the student’s ability to react, adapt and respond successfully to unscripted, unrehearsed and unpredictable attacks, all while under stress.  It doesn’t really matter which technique they select, as long as they react immediately and are able to adapt and adjust as needed until they reach a successful conclusion.  It doesn’t have to be pretty, as long as you never freeze up or stop fighting. 

This is how it is with real violence, so it’s important to recreate this dynamic (safely) as much as possible in training. 

CONCLUSION:

At the start of our journeys, we work on building a decent foundation.  Repetitive practice of a set number of techniques is one excellent method for developing a good amount of skill in the basics.  Once you have the mechanics nailed down, it’s time to build on that foundation.  Learning to apply and adapt to more realistic attacks is important. 

Don’t get stuck in a right or wrong way of attacking or defending.  Shift away from specific techniques and understand that often your response will most often be dependent on what option is presented to you, not what you have pre-selected in order to deal with an incoming attack.  This is where the concept of Mushin, or empty/no mind, comes into play.  Not many people can observe, identify, and then select a specific response to an unexpected and spontaneous attack in time to execute it successfully. 

Strive to be like the willow tree.  The willow can survive storms that topple other rigid trees.  The willow, while it has a strong set of roots, is flexible.  It doesn’t fight against the force of the storm; it simply adapts and adjusts by being flexible.  So too, should you be at higher levels of training.

Don’t tailor your attacks to fit your defenses.  Don’t practice attacking or defending in ways you never would in a real situation.  Strive to achieve Mushin.  Accept that real violence in unpredictable and that even a successful defense will rarely resemble the smooth response you so deftly demonstrated in a controlled training environment.  Don’t worry about looking sloppy. 

  

Establish roots in the basics but never stop your training there.  Learn to apply and adapt and always remain flexible. 

Train well.

Tradition vs. Reality?

The Strongest Karate (check out his blog here) left a comment on my last post that go me thinking.  The comment was in reference to my assertion that before you could discard a technique, you really need to learn it first.  It’s in the same vein as Bruce Lee’s ideas on ‘keep what is useful, discard what is not’, a central concept in his vision of Jeet Kun Do.

The Strongest Karate said the following:

"Very informative post. 

You make the distinction that one must understand a technique fully before they can decide whether it is useful or not. I agree with this, but it does present us with a problem: one may have to practice every technique 10's of thousands of times before they really understand it and, regrettably, our lifetimes just aren't long enough. 

This, I suppose, is why the arts are passed down the generations, but then I run the risk of throwing away a technique that wasn't useful to me (due to size/strength/injuries/other limitations) but would be perfectly suited for someone else. "       

I agree with him.  We can’t master every technique before deciding to keep it or throw it away.  My concern is that many martial artists are too quick to throw something away.  If it didn’t go right, or it was hard, or it felt awkward or they simply weren’t good at it the first couple times, they throw it away, citing the ‘keep what is useful, discard what is not’ mantra.  Doing this without at least exploring it to discover a deeper understanding is a mistake. 

I’ve had serious doubts about the usefulness of techniques that I initially learned.  At the time I was convinced they’d end up in the mental trash bin.  I continued to work on them when required by syllabus or by Sensei.  Over time, some of these have become some of my preferred techniques.  Had I discarded them at the outset, I would have denied myself several valuable tools.  It took exploring the mechanics, the application and the variations to give me enough insight to determine their value. 

This brings me to the next point touched on in the comment.

“This, I suppose, is why the arts are passed down the generations…”

Good point.  To a degree, we must have faith in our art and our teachers.  This is not to suggest we should blindly follow without thought or question, but if you’ve managed to find a good teacher of high skill and character, you must accept a degree of the teachings as being valuable, even if not immediately apparent.  

This leads me into one of the powerful arguments in favour of keeping the tradition in traditional martial arts (TMA).  With a move towards the next reality based system (RBS) and the increasing popularity of mixed martial arts (MMA), we run the risk of losing what it took hundreds of years to learn, a comprehensive and complete system of effective, battle tested techniques. 

I’m saying this over genuine concern that with each new generation, we are increasingly getting ‘watered-down’ versions of what were once truly combat arts, or martial systems.  I’m not slamming MMA or RBS; I’m actually a fan of both, for different reasons.  What I am saying is that when you strip away large portions of a TMA’s system in favour of a ‘quicker-fix’ or rules based system, valuable history can be lost.

Not everyone is pursuing TMA for the long haul, and this is fine.  RBS and MMA are viable and effective options, each with their own focus and value. 

A significant challenge for teachers is to maintain and teach techniques that they may not feel are overly effective, for them, at least.  A technique that doesn’t work particularly well for one, due to height, weight, gender, flexibility, health etc. may be perfect for someone else.  So must a teacher maintain a group of teachings and techniques that they wouldn’t necessarily use themselves.  

What I fear is that martial artists, who start in TMA, but too quickly discard ‘not yet fully understood’ techniques in favour of a less traditional method, end up being the next generation of instructors in the martial arts.  This if fine if their instruction is confined to RBS or MMA, but it is an insufficient knowledge base to teach anything else.  You either have TMA systems not being passed down with the historical knowledge and understanding, essentially fizzling out, or you get unqualified people teaching an incomplete system.  Both are equally troubling to me.

You can see this all over the place.  It’s one of the reasons finding a good qualified teacher can be so challenging.  Many people, who I consider to be masters, are giving up on teaching.  I suspect this is due, in no small part, to society’s ‘quick-fix’ mentality.  The ‘now generation’ want it fast, and want it easy.  While I agree a training environment needs to be comfortable and respectful, too many students want to be coddled in their pursuit of a shiny belt.  The faster the better, and don’t make it too hard… 

I’m not a fan of some of the ‘old school’ methods of training that resulted in unnecessary injuries, but by and large, many students have ‘gone soft’ and are loath to experience pain or discomfort at the hands of a serious teacher or in training.  Sadly, the schools that provide a ‘no touch’ position on training are attracting a large student base.  This is also problematic for new students who don’t know any better.  Again, for fitness, fun and camaraderie, this is all fine, but for those seeking skills to protect themselves and their loved ones from real violence, they come up short.

I’m all for kid’s martial arts programs.  They build confidence, discipline, self control, and the kids have fun and develop social skills while getting fit.  It’s tough to be critical of any of that.  What I do have an issue is when the only real difference you see between the ‘kiddie-class’ and the adult class is the age of the participants.  

Obviously, I have strong opinions on the topic.  This is because I believe that TMA are just that, traditional martial arts born on the battlefield.  Tried and true techniques tested in (often) life or death situations and real combat.

Perhaps ironically, the state of mainstream martial arts may be feeding the problem, or causing what I see as the decline of good TMA.  If students taking watered down martial arts are critical in their thinking, they may seek out a RBS to get real combat skills.  Or they may be attracted to MMA, which, for all its faults as a true combat art, does incorporate real and hard training against resisting opponents.  A hands-on sport based style can be better than a hands-off McDojo.

So, if students are creating a market for real combat skills development, they may naturally find themselves seeking out RBS.  And if qualified TMA teachers are frustrated with the business of martial arts or the desires of mainstream or ‘soft’ students, they may naturally find themselves instructing a RBS program. 

This can be good but also creates the very situation that I see as the problem.  When the TMS turned RBS teacher stops teaching, the next generation is only left with what was taught in the RBS.  Lost then, possibly forever, is the more comprehensive, and complete TMA system. 

So you either get TMA schools teaching watered down versions of a combat art and subsequent teachers who don’t have a complete understanding of the original art and its application or you get branched-off RBS systems which miss out on the larger body of work.

I’ve done a pretty good job identifying the problem.  The harder part is coming up with the solution.

If your goals of learning go beyond just the down and dirty of a RBS (which is valuable and more than sufficient for many), find a good TMA instructor and stick with him/her and the art.  Give the system and the techniques a chance before making any rash decisions about their worth.   Ultimately, I agree with the concept of discarding what is not useful.  Just make sure you’ve done enough of the work to make that assessment.  And, as always, keep an open mind.

Train safely.

Meditations on Aikido

I've got Aikido on the brain.  Here's some of my opinions on this fascinating art.


Aikido. 

My last post touched upon the effectiveness of Aikido.  I’ve always been a fan of good Aikido and it’s been a significant influence on my own martial journey.  In many ways, the early movies of Steven Seagal kicked off my fascination with this type of art, and in no small way helped lead me to my now two-decade study of Jiu Jitsu.

Each time I post on Aikido, I invariably come across great videos of Aikido in action.  I also come across some not-so-great examples.

In many ways, I believe Aikido is one of the least understood arts out there. 

Morihei Ueshiba founded this style as part martial art, part philosophy on life.  More accurately, it was his vision of peace and harmony that contained martial elements. 

I am speaking in general terms, as I am in no way an expert on the art and its history.  I am, after all, first and foremost a student of Jiu Jitsu.  Having said that, it can be argued that Aikido came from Jiu Jitsu.  Morihei Ueshiba was a student of many martial arts, notably Aiki Jiu Jitsu, or Jiu Jitsu (personally I see these two titles as interchangeable), before he founded Aikido.

If you accept or agree that Aikido is as much a belief system, or philosophy on living and harmony as it is on a combat skill, there’s little wonder why the quality and nature of its instruction can vary so greatly.

From my perspective, no matter how noble one’s motivations are in a martial art, there still needs to be an understanding that you are learning how to engage in combat.  Even if your ultimate goal is to avoid conflict or violence (which it should be), you are gaining the fighting ability and skills to build the confidence to walk/get away. 

To my mind, it is very much a case of “Si Vis pacem, para bellum” – If you wish for peace, prepare for war

My major issue with the state of Aikido today?


A lack of understanding of the combat applications of the techniques.

Aikido, being a system based on the concepts of peace and harmony, a system in which many techniques are designed to ‘not’ injure your opponent (or to minimize injury) can be quite challenging.

Where I think some of the problems lie is with an incomplete knowledge base of techniques that actually cause damage and injury.  As I mentioned, Morihei Ueshiba was a student of Jiu Jitsu long before he founded Aikido.  He knew lots and lots of nasty techniques capable of causing extreme injury.  From this knowledge base, he worked on moderating, or adapting his techniques to be more in line with his belief system. 

I once heard Aikido described as Jiu Jitsu with all the nasty stuff taken out.  While not completely accurate (there’s still lots of nasty stuff in Aikido), it does have a kernel of truth.

A while back, I discussed the paradox of the martial arts and how in order to keep what is useful and discard what is not (a central component of Bruce Lee’s philosophy on martial arts); you first have to properly learn the technique before throwing it away.  If you only have a partial understanding of a technique in the first place, how can you know if it’s of value or not?  So you have to learn it before you can un-learn it.  Read the original post here for more details.

My theory, [once again, these are based on the general trends I have seen and don’t apply to all schools and teachers], is that the original knowledge base or understanding of the ‘original’ techniques from which much of Aikido has been based or adjusted/adapted from is not robust enough.  Some have even forgotten that atemi, or disruptive strikes were very much a part of Aikido.

The less injurious techniques of Aikido are very much a choice of the practitioner when applied.  The skilled student of Aikido chooses not to hurt their opponent, but this is not to suggest that they couldn’t. 

This is an important point to consider and an area that I suspect may be part of the problems that I see.

If you never learn the ‘nastier’ stuff, it is more challenging to fully understand how and what it is that you are doing.  I’d far rather know how to do more damage and then choose to do less than be unsure what options were available if the situation forced me to consider a more severe response. 

This applies to all combat arts, by the way, not just Aikido.

So, if a teacher lacks the depth of knowledge, so too will the student suffer.

As for students, who is attracted to Aikido?  Could the type of person who is drawn to Aikido play a role in the understanding and application of effective technique?

People are drawn to Aikido for a variety or reasons.  Some are drawn to it more for the technique and some more for the philosophical aspects.  For most, it is a combination of both.  Either way it is a worthwhile pursuit.

I would suggest that the motivation of the student directly affects the combat effectiveness of the techniques.  Not every student, or teacher for that matter, wishes to learn the dark side of Aikido, focusing far more on the intrinsic value of the “way of harmony”. 

I’m ok with that, but it can water down an art into a far less effective option for dealing with real violence. 

Ideally, you should be striving for both harmony and martial skill.  One without the other compromises the study of this fascinating art.  Aikido is a martial art of contrast.  It is this very contrast which makes me such a fan. 

When you find a teacher who has the knowledge of the nasty but the mindset of the peaceful warrior, you get something very special indeed.

Living in the moment

In my last post, I talked a bit about taking responsibility for whatever you do and how it can free you to live in the 'now'.

Over the last couple days, I rebuilt a deck.  I did not particularly want to do it, as I don't have a lot of extra time in my life right now and it took me away from other pursuits I enjoy.  It's also hard work.  Now, I could have wasted time before hand thinking how I didn't want to do it.  And I could have spent the time doing it concentrating on how I wanted it to be over so I could do other things.  Instead, I tried to live in the moment.  What I found was surprising.

Sure, it was still hard work, but that's ok, it's good for you.  I also realized how great the weather was.  Ripping up boards, using a sledge hammer, prying up nails, replacing rotting wood with straight good smelling wood, and seeing the tangible progress became strangely satisfying.  I started to enjoy figuring out how to get into a rhythm, how to get faster and smoother in my technique, how to use less effort to accomplish more and so on.  I enjoyed and was present in the moment.

And yes, the parallels to martial arts study are not lost on me.  This same mindset should be applied to training.  What I found interesting was that just by thinking about being present in the moment, I was.  My mind drifted off from time to time but overall I enjoyed the day.

I may just be on to something...

Standing on the Shoulders of Giants - Respect in the Martial Arts

I keep coming across websites and martial artists that have created their own unique new martial art.  It seems that they are popping up everywhere. So and so has created the ultimate martial art, the unstoppable martial art, the unbeatable one etc. Some even have names that I've never heard of. Some are so secret that you have to sign up for a year just to find out what it is.

The language that we use is important, If I open my own martial arts school, I haven't made a new martial art.  I haven't 'created' it.  What I've done is use existing techniques from existing martial arts systems and formed a teaching methodology.  The manner in which those techniques are taught and applied is what I've brought to the table.  That's the part that's new, that's mine.  In this way, I've created my own style, or mode of martial arts.  Well, sort of.

Style is defined as:

"1. The way in which something is said, done, expressed, or performed: a style of speech and writing. 
  2. The combination of distinctive features of literary or artistic expression, execution, or performance  characterizing a particular person, group, school, or era."
(thefreedictionary.com)

Mode is defined as:

"manner of acting or doing; method; way:"
(dictionary.reference.com)

Why am I making this distinction?

It bothers me that people out there tout themselves as the creators of a new martial art.  I find it disrespectful to their teachers and the system they were taught and practiced.  There are no new 'discoveries' to be made, no previously undiscovered techniques. The human body can only move so many ways, there are only so many strikes, kicks, locks etc.

There is a saying dating back to the 12th century and a variation of it used by Isaac Newton.  The gist is that if you can see or reach higher or further, it is because you are standing on the shoulders of giants.  Not an exact quote, but I hope you get the meaning.

The giants are those that came before us, our teachers, training partners and the founders and teachers of martial arts systems dating back many generations.  It is on their shoulders that we all stand.

I'm not suggesting you market yourself as a master or teacher of another person's martial art, or style, but I am saying to give credit where credit is due. Assuming you are in good standing with your previous teachers, I would suggest you at least make it very clear that your teachings are based on, or influenced by, another school or system.  Then you can call your style whatever you want.

I guess it all boils down to respect and honouring those that have been kind enough to pass down the gift of martial arts knowledge to you.

Food for thought, I hope.