Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philosophy. Show all posts

Thursday, July 25, 2024

No secrets to boiling water

 "What is the secret to success in martial arts?"

or,

 "How do you get a black belt?"


The answer to these questions is not whispered to a trusted acolyte by a grandmaster in the inner sanctum.  It is not to be rummaged for in dusty and disintegrating parchments.  It is not buried treasure or a revelation from God.


There is only one true answer:  Training time on the deck.


The time you are willing to spend on the deck, sweaty and exhausted.  Sometimes bleeding, crying, or vomiting.  It is not glamorous.  


Consistent attendance and diligent training will allow anyone to make Dan grade.  There are great personal rewards which may be achieved in the martial arts if one can subdue the ego, be willing to make mistakes, be an active learner, and submit to an old and esoteric tradition which seems shrouded in mystery.  Unfortunately, not everyone is willing to make the commitment to consistent training.  


Karate is like boiling water; without constant heat, it eventually returns to its tepid state.

                    - Gichin Funakoshi 

Humility and making progress as a martial artist

"To all those whose progress remains hampered by ego-related distractions let humility, the spiritual cornerstone upon which the fighting traditions rest, serve to remind you to place virtue ahead of vice, values of head of vanity, and principles ahead of personalities."


             - Bushi Matsumura Chikudoun Pechin Sokon, maternal grandfather of  O'sensei Tsuyoshi Chitose.



Saturday, July 20, 2024

On sport karate and the exclusion from the 2024 Paris Olympics

 It is a shame that karate will not be included in the Paris Olympic games.  This is truly odd, as the IOC has decided to include breakdancing.  Whether you like sport karate or not, the exposure provided by the Olympic games motivates many new people to try karate training for themselves.  This is a good thing, as without new students the art would die. 

"Sport" karate in the Olympics, and competitions generally, consists of kata and kumite.  The katas are often modified versions of old forms, but they retain a strong influence from the old ways.  Kumite Competition, with its point scoring, approved techniques, prohibited targets, and prohibition of grappling or being in the "clinch," takes away much of the intent behind karate's purpose as an effective and dangerous method of self-defense meant to physically harm an untrained criminal assailant.  Mabuni Kenwa believed that competitions of this type tended to bring out the worst in human behavior.  This is evident when you see competitors engaging in theatrics before and after bouts.  Karate was intended to be used for self-defense, not self-aggrandizement.  Echoing Mabuni, Soshin Nagamine wrote:

"I don't mean to suggest that I have a totally negative opinion about karate-do's competitive element, it's just that I feel that it is too shallow.  Regardless of whether it is Okinawa, the Japanese mainland, or the world in general, jiu-kumite (free sparring) ignores the principles to which kata apply.  Simply put, jiu-kumite should reflect the kata, because kata is the origin of karate-do.  If there is no kata, it is not karate-do, just kicking and punching."

This reminds me of one of Hanshi's sayings, "If you run out of karate, there's always kicking and punching!"

Thursday, July 11, 2024

Motobu on Matsumura: Learning to Think



"Having studied under Matsumura, I remember what a brilliant technician he was. I learned much watching Sensei teach his students how to think about what they were studying in order to develop and improve its application. Karate in the Ryukyus was customarily taught like this; however, those who were unable to learn to think remained stiff and inflexible"

Tuesday, October 17, 2023

Seven Falls, Eight Rises

Nana korobi yaoki 七転び八起き means perseverance in the face of adversity, and refusing to accept failure.  In other words, it is the grit and resolve to reach a goal, or to die trying.

The "...or to die trying" part is not intended to mean sacrificing oneself.  Instead it is a dedication to reaching for a goal as a mortal being.  None of us knows how much time on earth has been allotted to us, so to stay down and accept failure as inevitable and permanent is to deny that one is alive as a conscious being in the world.

In his book Moving Toward Stillness, Dave Lowry writes about Yasuhiro Yamashita, a well known Judoka who won more than 500 matches in his competition career:

Once, after he captured still another national title, I recall something he said that, to me, seemed to sum up Yamashita's philosophy on competition and said a lot about his successes.  "Just before a tournament," Yamashita told reporters, "I always take a bath, and in the weeks before a competition I try to keep my surroundings neat and well-ordered, so I won't be ashamed even if I die during a match."

The only excuse for not getting back up and trying again is death.


  


Friday, March 24, 2023

Beginner's Mind, 初心

 "Shoshin" is the Zen Buddhism term for retaining the spirit of openness and lack of preconceptions of a beginner or novice.  To not think of oneself as an expert, but to remain receptive and open to new learning and new experiences even when one achieves an advanced level of practice.  Many consider this to be essential in subduing the ego, a fixed and conditioned state that we subconsciously and reflexively impose upon ourselves.  By keeping the ego in check, and using the ego as a detached observer or advisor, we can achieve a more peaceful mental state and begin to integrate that peacefulness into our relationships with others.

This is an important concept in martial arts.  While we are studying how to fight, and we know from childhood that fighting and violence are wrong, we are learning to become more peaceful within ourselves.  It is very easy for someone to develop an inflated ego as higher rank is achieved.   Keeping a beginner's mind helps to prevent this, and leaves the door open for new learning in addition to new ways of thinking about old ideas.  There is always something new to discover.  

Consider a kata, even a "beginner" kata.  With experience and training, a beginner kata can be performed without really thinking about it very much.  But try to imagine an opponent, what that opponent may or may not be doing against you, and how you react.  Have you thought of everything?  That is difficult.  While some ideas may be more valid or appropriate than others, keeping your mind away from preconceptions helps to give a new perspective to your thinking.

Friday, October 8, 2021

Wabi Sabi

The concept of wabi-sabi highlights the importance of acceptance in Japanese culture, a society forced to contend with devastating natural disasters on a semi-regular basis. Rather than casting nature solely as a dangerous and destructive force, it helps frame it as a source of beauty, to be appreciated on the smallest of levels.

---

 

Japan’s unusual way to view the world, from BBC Travel.
The appreciation of transient beauty is at the heart of some of Japan’s most simple pleasures, such as the annual celebration of cherry blossoms (Credit: Alex Ramsay/Alamy)
Wabi-sabi offers a refuge from the modern world's obsession with perfection, and accepts imperfections as all the more meaningful – and, in their own way, beautiful.

Withdrawing my hands reluctantly from the slowly spinning bowl, I watched its uneven sides slowly come to a stop, wishing I could straighten them out just a little more. I was in the ancient pottery town of Hagi in rural Yamaguchi, Japan, and while I trusted the potter who convinced me to let it be, I can’t say I understood his motives.

Smiling, he announced, “it has wabi-sabi” – and whisked the bowl away for firing. I sat, contemplating the lack of symmetry and wondering what on Earth he meant.

As it turns out, failing to understand this phrase is not unusual. A key part of the Japanese Aesthetic – the ancient ideals that still govern the norms on taste and beauty in Japan – wabi-sabi is not only untranslatable, but also considered undefinable in Japanese culture. Often muttered in moments of profound appreciation, and almost always followed by the word muri! (impossible!) when asked to expand, the phrase offers an unusual way to view the world.

Wabi-sabi is a key part of the Japanese Aesthetic (Credit: Nathaniel Noir/Alamy)

Wabi-sabi is a key part of the Japanese Aesthetic (Credit: Nathaniel Noir/Alamy)


Originating in Taoism during China’s Song dynasty (960-1279) before being passed onto Zen Buddhism, wabi-sabi was originally seen as an austere, restrained form of appreciation. Today it encapsulates a more relaxed acceptance of transience, nature and melancholy, favouring the imperfect and incomplete in everything, from architecture to pottery to flower arranging.

Wabi, which roughly means ‘the elegant beauty of humble simplicity’, and sabi, which means ‘the passing of time and subsequent deterioration’, were combined to form a sense unique to Japan and pivotal to Japanese culture. But just as Buddhist monks believed that words were the enemy of understanding, this description can only scratch the surface of the topic.

Prof Tanehisa Otabe, professor at Tokyo University’s Institute of Aesthetics, suggests that the ancient art of wabi-cha, a style of tea ceremony established by tea masters Murata Juko and Sen no Rikyu from the late 15th to 16th Centuries forms a good introduction to wabi-sabi. By choosing common Japanese pottery over the popular (and technically perfect) imported Chinese examples, the men challenged the rules of beauty. Without bright colours and ornate designs to rely on as signifiers of accepted beauty, guests were encouraged to study subtle colours and textures that would previously have been overlooked.

Wabi-sabi leaves something unfinished or incomplete for the play of imagination

As to why they sought imperfect, rustic pieces, Prof Otabe explained that “wabi-sabi leaves something unfinished or incomplete for the play of imagination”. This opportunity to actively engage with something considered to be wabi-sabi achieves three things: an awareness of the natural forces involved in the creation of the piece; an acceptance of the power of nature; and an abandonment of dualism – the belief that we are separate from our surroundings.

Combined, these experiences allow the viewer to see themselves as part of the natural world, no longer separated by societal constructs and instead at the mercy of natural timelines. Rather than seeing dents or uneven shapes as mistakes, they are viewed as a creation of nature – much as moss would grow on an uneven wall or a tree would curve in the wind.

“The aesthetics of wabi-sabi opened our eyes to everyday life and gave us a method of handling what is common in an uncommon, aesthetic way,” Prof Otabe said, highlighting the importance of acceptance in Japanese culture, a society forced to contend with devastating natural disasters on a semi-regular basis. Rather than casting nature solely as a dangerous and destructive force, it helps frame it as a source of beauty, to be appreciated on the smallest of levels. It becomes a provider of colours, designs and patterns, a source of inspiration, and a force to work alongside, rather than against.

Originating in Taoism before being passed onto Zen Buddhism, wabi-sabi encapsulates a more relaxed acceptance of transience, nature and melancholy (Credit: Lily Crossley-Baxter)

Originating in Taoism before being passed onto Zen Buddhism, wabi-sabi encapsulates a more relaxed acceptance of transience, nature and melancholy (Credit: Lily Crossley-Baxter)

It is the inevitable mortality embound in nature, however, that is key to a true understanding of wabi-sabi. As author Andrew Juniper notes in his book Wabi Sabi: The Japanese Art of Impermanence, “It… uses the uncompromising touch of mortality to focus the mind on the exquisite transient beauty to be found in all things impermanent”. Alone, natural patterns are merely pretty, but in understanding their context as transient items that highlight our own awareness of impermanence and death, they become profound.

This idea brought to mind a story a Japanese colleague told me when we discussed wabi-sabi. Visiting Kyoto as a teenager, she had hurried through the grounds of Ginkakuji, a wooden Zen temple with quiet gardens, eager to see the more famous Kinkakuji, an ornate temple covered in gold leaf and perched above a reflective pond. Bright, stunning and glamorous, it lived up to her expectations, a far more impressive beauty than its traditional sister temple.

A few decades later, however, she returned to find the gold garish and, while it was certainly eye-catching, there was little beyond the immediate gratification of the gold leaf. Ginkakuji, however, offered a new fascination: the aged wood held countless hues and patterns, while the Zen moss and dry sand gardens offered a frame for nature’s many shapes. Unable to appreciate these things as a child, she had grown to see the ravages of time as a deeper source of beauty, far greater than a two-dimensional flash of gold.

Rather than seeing dents or uneven shapes as mistakes, in Japan they are viewed as a creation of nature (Credit: Christian Baumert/Alamy)

Rather than seeing dents or uneven shapes as mistakes, in Japan they are viewed as a creation of nature (Credit: Christian Baumert/Alamy)

Intrigued by the personal element of this appreciation, I contacted artist Kazunori Hamana, whose unique pieces are often considered to have an element of wabi-sabi. As we walked through the grounds of his tumbledown farmhouse in the rural idyll of Izumi in Chiba prefecture, he agreed with the need for age.

“You have different feelings when you’re young – everything new is good, but you start to see history develop like a story. After you’ve grown up, you see so many stories, from your family to nature: everything growing and dying and you understand the concept more than you did as a child.”

This appreciation for the marks of time is a key feature in Hamana’s works, which he chooses to display in derelict Japanese farmhouses. Explaining that the wooden doorframes have been blackened by years of smoke from the irori (an indoor hearth) and pointing out how the mud walls have started crumbling, he says he feels the history of the houses lend a fitting backdrop to his pieces, avoiding the cold duality of impersonal white gallery spaces.

Though not as ornate as its sister temple, Kinkakuji, the Ginkakuji temple in Kyoto exhibits a deeper source of beauty (Credit: dave stamboulis/Alamy)

Though not as ornate as its sister temple, Kinkakuji, the Ginkakuji temple in Kyoto exhibits a deeper source of beauty (Credit: dave stamboulis/Alamy)

Creating sculptures with natural clay from Shiga, an area with a reputation for high-quality clay and a long history of pottery making, Hamana embraces the important wabi-sabi concept of mutual creation between man and nature.

“I design a little at first, but clay is a natural thing, so it changes. I don’t want to fight with nature so I follow the shape, I accept it,” he said.

Not only does he allow nature to aid in the shaping of his pieces, but in their later appearance too. In an overgrown bamboo forest in the farmhouse grounds, he showed me the pieces he’d chosen to leave outside, buried in the undergrowth for years at a time. There they’ve developed unique patterns from extreme temperatures and surrounding plant life, as well as being occasionally broken. Studying them closely, I found that this simply added to the beauty of each piece, with the cracks offering another opportunity to add to the story.

Kazunori Hamana’s clay artwork is often considered to have an element of wabi-sabi (Credit: Lily Crossley-Baxter)

Kazunori Hamana’s clay artwork is often considered to have an element of wabi-sabi (Credit: Lily Crossley-Baxter)

Often associated with wabi-sabi is the art of kintsugi – a method of repairing broken pottery using gold or lacquer. The process highlights, rather than conceals, the cracks, allowing them to become a part of the piece, too. When his daughter accidentally broke some of his work, Hamana said, laughing, he decided to leave the pieces outside for a few years, allowing them to be coloured and shaped by nature. When it was repaired by a local kintsugi specialist, the different colours created a contrast so subtle, so uneven, that could never have been intentionally created. Embracing the effects of nature and allowing family history to be visible in a piece creates a unique value for something which would, in many cultures, simply be discarded as worthless.

Prioritising flawlessness and infallibility, the ideal of perfection creates not only unachievable standards, but misguided ones

In fact, the term ‘perfect’, which stems from the Latin perfectus, meaning complete, has been placed on an undeserved pedestal in many cultures, especially the West. Prioritising flawlessness and infallibility, the ideal of perfection creates not only unachievable standards, but misguided ones. In Taoism, since no further growth or development can take place, perfection is considered equivalent to death. While we strive to create perfect things and then struggle to preserve them, we deny their very purpose and subsequently lose the joys of change and growth.

Although seemingly abstract, this appreciation of transient beauty can be found at the heart of some of Japan’s most simple pleasures. Hanami, the annual celebration of cherry blossoms, involves parties and picnics, boat rides and festivals, all beneath the often already-falling petals, considered as beautiful in their haphazard patterns on the floor as they are on the branches. The pure acceptance of a fleeting beauty that would garner no more than a few photos in the West is something of an inspiration. While the appreciation may be tinged with melancholy, its only lesson is to enjoy the moments as they come, without expectations.

The appreciation of transient beauty is at the heart of some of Japan’s most simple pleasures, such as the annual celebration of cherry blossoms (Credit: Alex Ramsay/Alamy)

The appreciation of transient beauty is at the heart of some of Japan’s most simple pleasures, such as the annual celebration of cherry blossoms (Credit: Alex Ramsay/Alamy)

The dents and scratches we bear are all reminders of experience, and to erase them would be to ignore the complexities of life. By retaining the imperfect, repairing the broken and learning to find beauty in flaws – rather than in spite of them – Japan’s ability to cope with the natural disasters it so often faces is strengthened. When my bowl from Hagi arrived in the post months later, its uneven edges were no longer a defect, but instead a welcome reminder that life is not perfect, and nor should I try to make it so.

Monday, October 19, 2020

What is Chito Ryu all about?

The following is excerpted from the "Founders Forum" pages at chito-ryu.com:

         WHAT IS CHITO-RYU ALL ABOUT?

  1. IT IS AN ART OF SELF PROTECTION WHERE THE STUDENT'S SELF PERFECTION IS OF PRIMARY IMPORTANCE.

  2. IT IS ABOUT A STYLE OF SELF DEFENSE WHERE SELF DISCIPLINE IS OF PRIMARY IMPORTANCE.

  3. IT IS ABOUT HEALTH AND LIVING A PROPER AND FULL LIFE, SO WE CAN BENEFIT ALL MANKIND.

  4. IT IS ABOUT RESPONSIBILITY, AND BEING IN CHARGE OF OUR LIVES. IT IS ABOUT NOT BLAMING OTHERS FOR OUR FAILURES.

  5. IT IS A SEEKING OF THE TRUTH, BOTH WITHIN AND WITHOUT OUR BEING.

  6. IT IS SEEKING OF A ONENESS WITH ALL CREATION, A UNIVERSAL ONENESS.

  7. IT IS A KNOWLEDGE THAT THERE IS VIRTUE IN BEING WHO YOU ARE, AND NOT WHAT YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE.

  8. IT IS AN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT THAT MONEY CAN NEVER BRING HAPPINESS, OR ENLIGHTENMENT.

  9. IT IS AN UNDERSTANDING THAT IF WE TAKE CARE OF THE SMALL THINGS IN LIFE, THE BIG THINGS WILL MOST LIKELY TAKE CARE OF THEMSELVES. LIFE WILL THEN FLOW VERY NATURALLY.

  10. IT IS AN UNDERSTANDING THAT LEARNING IS A LIFE LONG PROCESS (JUST LIKE KARATE KATA) AND WE MUST EACH AND EVERYDAY LEARN AND PRACTICE OUR LIVING SO TOMORROW WILL BE A BETTER DAY AND WORLD BECAUSE OF OUR LIVING A HUMBLE AND LOVING LIFE.

  11. IT IS ABOUT O-SENSEI AND THE GOALS HE HAS ESTABLISHED FOR US TO ACHIEVE THROUGH THE PRACTICE OF CHITO-RYU.

  12. IT IS OUR PRACTICE. OUR FAILING, AND THEN STARTING AGAIN.

  13. CHITO-RYU IS NOT WHAT WE MAY THINK OR SAY. CHITO-RYU IS BEYOND MERE WORDS AND THOUGHT. CHITO-RYU IS A DOING, A LIVING, A BREATHING THING. THIS WILL BE TRUE AS LONG AS WE LIVE AND PRACTICE CHITO-RYU.

  14. LET ME FINISH BY SAYING THAT: "Chito-ryu is __________________________________"

William J. Dometrich, Hanshi
Co-Founder U.S. Chito-kai

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Kime, or Chinkuchi


We often speak of "kime" in our classes:  The focusing of power at the end of a technique, at the moment of impact.  It is a sequence of relaxation / tension / relaxation which happens almost instantaneously in more advanced practitioners. This is a difficult concept to understand for a beginner, and one which needs constant attention and refinement for the more experienced student.  The beginner tends to have far too much tension in the body for kime to be effective.  This not only slows down the technique, but it can actually be damaging to the body.  There is a good article in the Shotokan Times discussing fascia - the covering of organs, connective tissue, and muscles which is found throughout the body - and its relationship to Kime.


In Okinawa, there is a slightly different term regarding this concept:  Chinkuchi.  It is the process of near instantaneous tension and release throughout the body, which must be learned by physical practice over a period of years before mastery can be approached.  Jesse Enkamp describes this as a feeling like a sneeze.


A really down-in-the-weeds examination of this subject can be found in an article published in the research journal Body and Society.  This article is rather esoteric, but it can be summarized thusly:  Kime is a body consciousness which is achieved through repeated thoughtful practice of the body in motion.


Obviously, the key to achieving Kime - and anything else in Karate - is PRACTICE.  Regular, dedicated, intentional practice. 



Get on the deck and sweat.




  







Friday, February 21, 2020

Iron and the Soul, by Henry Rollins

The following is an essay by Henry Rollins, (the last) lead vocalist of the punk band Black Flag.  This story is about his life as an adolescent finding purpose, confidence, and resilience through physical training.  I wish I had a Mr. Pepperman in my life when I was at that age!  I have found that training in Karate-do has the same sort of effect as what Mr. Rollins calls the Iron.

"I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.


Completely.


When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me “garbage can” and telling me I’d be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn’t run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.


I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn’t going to get pounded in the hallway between classes. Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you’ll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn’t think much of them either.


Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn’t even drag them to my mom’s car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.


Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.’s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn’t looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing. In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn’t want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in.


Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn’t know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.


Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn’t say sh–t to me.


It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn’t want to come off the mat, it’s the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn’t teach you anything. That’s the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.


It wasn’t until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can’t be as bad as that workout.


I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn’t ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you’re not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.


I have never met a truly strong person who didn’t have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone’s shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr. Pepperman.


Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.


Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body.


Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn’t see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.


I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you’re made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it’s some kind of miracle if you’re not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole.


I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.


Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind.


The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it’s impossible to turn back.


The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you’re a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.


https://www.artofmanliness.com/articles/henry-rollins-iron-and-soul/

Thursday, February 20, 2020

Butoku

Butoku means "martial virtue."  The following is from the late Shuri-te Karate expert Chibana Choshin, 1885-1969, founder of the Kobayashi-ryu style of Karate.  The article was assembled by an unknown person from quotes and teachings of Chibana Choshin.


"The great master Itosu Anko studied Karate very hard. He was not only a great Karate expert, but a scholar and excellent calligrapher. I first visited Anko Itosu in 1899 and asked him to teach me Uchinan-no-te [an old name for Karate].


Twice he refused me, leaving me waiting at his entrance gate. Only upon asking him for the third time did he finally accept me as a personal student.


He taught Karate secretly at his home to a select group of about six or seven followers. They trained in Bu (Karate as a martial art), not as sport, as they do now. During that period of time I, too, kept my training a secret, even from my family. In 1903, or 1904, Itosu sensei began to publicly teach Karate in the school setting. It was at this time that I told my parents that instead of going to school I had been practicing the art of “te.”


In 1918 a group of Karate enthusiasts (Hanashiro Chomo, Kyan Chotoku, Miyagi Chojun, Mabuni Kenwa, Go Kenki, Oshiro Chojo, Yabu Kentsu, Kyoda Juhatsu, Yabiku Moden and myself) formed a group for Karate study since the two greatest teachers had died (Itosu Anko and Higaonna Kanryo both died in 1915). It was called the Karate (written as Tode) Kenkyukai which was established in Shuri City.


This was the first time that practitioners of different methods (Shuri, Naha and Tomari styles) met to train together and exchange information. Each time we met one senior would lead the training and all would benefit from their knowledge. This lasted until 1929 when, because of the popularity of this art, we all became too busy with our own students to train collectively.


I first began to teach Shuri-te Karate-jutsu in 1920 but by 1929, at the age of 44, I opened my first training hall (dojo) in Shuri City. In 1933 my good friend and colleague, Magusuku (Miyagi) Chojun, and I registered the names of our respective teachings with the Dai Nippon Butokukai (Greater Japan Martial Virtue Association). I called my teachings Shorin-ryu meaning the “small forest style.” My colleague, Chojun-sensei, called his style the Goju-ryu meaning “the half hard and half soft style.”
We were good friends and he died in 1953. He was a good colleague and a friend to all Shorin practitioners. He is missed.


Both Bucho (Bushi) Matsumura and Itosu Anko were poor. When I spoke of this to Itosu he told me that this was not a universal truth, that is that a martial person is poor. He stated that Okinawan bushi (warriors) were poor because they did not know how to handle money, as was the custom back then.
A true Okinawan martial artist makes his living away from the martial arts. They should not concern themselves with the making of money out of teaching the martial arts. A martial person must make their living away from the martial arts so as not to contaminate it through the influence of “making money” in order to “make a living.”


This is the Okinawan way.


Karate, as it is transmitted, changes every few years. This is a common phenomenon. It happens because a teacher must continue to learn and adds his personality to the teachings. There is an old Okinawan martial arts saying that states that Karate is much like a pond. In order for the pond to live, it must have infusions. It must have streams that feed the pond and replenish it. If this is not done then the pond becomes stagnant and dies. If the martial arts teacher does not receive infusion of new ideas and/or methods, then he, too, dies. He stagnates and, through boredom, dies of unnatural causes.


I remember learning the kata Tawada Patsai (Passai/Bassai) from Tawada-sensei. At that time I was receiving instruction from Itosu and he, too, taught a version of Patsai kata which he called the Matsumura Patsai, which I learned.


In 1913 or 1914, having practiced the Tawada-no-Patsai with all my heart, as was the custom back then, I approached Itosu and advised him of this. He asked me to demonstrate the kata for him. I did and Itosu then stated to me that was the finest performance of this rarely seen form that he had ever witnessed.


He then told me that this form must be preserved and passed on to future generations and to add it to his (my) teachings. So [in Kobayashi-ryu] the Matsumura Patsai is now called the Patsai-no-sho and the Tawada Patsai is called Patsai-no-dai.


Many of today’s practitioners are too timid in their training. They train with only the thought of being able to finish and not with the thought of progressing – pushing yourself to become better. You must train hard if you want to progress otherwise you are just a mediocre practitioner, and there are many of them.


If you wish to learn mediocre karate, go some place else and do not waste my time.
If a teacher teaches with his heart he can only expect the student to train with their heart. It is only right – then both the teacher and the student progress. The student motivates the teacher and the teacher teaches the student the correct attitude and spirit of the Okinawan martial arts. This is good training – the student and the teacher progressing together!


When you train you have to devote yourself only to the way of Karate – think of nothing else. Do not think of others, or what they may think. You must develop the ability to focus your mind, hands and feet strongly. You must not only learn body movements but also research and study the art itself.


You should develop and improve yourself before you reach the age of fifty. Your body naturally begins to deteriorate after fifty years old so you must then adjust your training accordingly. If after fifty you still train every day then you may not decline so much. I noticed a slight decline at age fifty, but I don’t think I declined much at all between fifty and sixty years of age.


Of course, you cannot help deteriorating to a degree but if you continue training you will not age so rapidly, even between seventy and eighty years of age. Therefore, train continuously.
In the old days we trained at Karate as a martial art, but now they train at Karate as a gymnastic sport I think we must avoid treating Karate as a sport – it must be a martial art at all times!


Your fingers and the tips of your toes must be like arrows, your arms must be like iron. You have to think that if you kick, you try to kick the enemy dead. If you punch, you must thrust to kill. If you strike, then you strike to kill the enemy.


This is the spirit you need in order to progress in your training. The effort required is great, and you can strain the body by doing too much. So keep in mind your own physical condition and train accordingly.


Years ago I decided that through my own hard training I wanted to leave my name connected with Okinawan Karate-do. I trained hard and taught to the best of my ability and talent. Now I think that my name will remain a little in the history of Okinawan Karate-do.


Not only do we need physical training, we need to think for ourselves, studying and researching the kata and their applications.


It is vitally important to understand kata and train your body to develop the core of Karate. You can achieve a five or six times increase in your body power if you train hard. Naturally, if you do this you will be pleased with the result, so train very hard.


Whether you become great depends on only two factors – effort and study. Your movements must be sharp – never be slow – and when you train at kata your eyes will get sharper and your blocking and striking will get stronger. Even when you reach the age of seventy or eighty you must continue your research with a positive attitude, always thinking “not yet, not yet…”"


h/t Jesse Enkamp

Friday, February 14, 2020

Dojo Kun

Dojo Kun are general rules of conduct for students of martial arts.  Many dojo have these rules posted in a conspicuous place near the entrance, and everyone from the most senior Dan rank to the newest white belt are expected to adhere them.  Here are ours, from O'sensei's book Kempo Karate Do.




Dojo Kun


Dojo Kun are rules governing conduct of students training in a martial way.  The following is from O'Sensei Chitose's book, Kempo Karate-Do:


 


1.  Always maintain respect for courtesy.


 


2.  Always have a serious attitude.


 


3.  Always use polite language.


 


4.  Always maintain a high spirit.


 


5.  Always maintain a high level of cleanliness.


 


 


 


Those who study Karate-Do must take these five principles to heart.

Friday, January 31, 2020

Wash Your Gi

Class is over, you change out of your gi and stuff it in your bag, leaving the dojo until the next class.  You don't feel like doing laundry that night, and maybe sensei went a little easier than normal on the class so you did not sweat that much.  Your gi will be fine until the next class!  You do this a few times, it becomes more of a habit than not, and then you start to wonder why your gi smells like roadkill wearing dirty gym socks. 


Bacteria are on everything.  The roadkill gym sock smelling bacteria thrive in a warm, moist environment, a.k.a. the skin of your body, and must be washed off regularly in the bath or shower.  Your gi picks up this bacteria along with sweat, body oils, and dead skin cells that you produce when you exercise.  When you take off your gi and stuff it in your bag, not only is the bacteria and its food present on your gi, the moisture from your sweat does not get a chance to evaporate, creating the perfect environment for bacterial reproduction.    








Of course, most of us do not have access to a drying cabinet, so we hang our gi to dry.  You should use heavyweight hangers, as a gi made of 12oz cotton is pretty heavy when it is wet.  Heavy hangers for your gi are definately worth the investment.  I have an antique hanger from an old defunct cleaners for my jacket.  It is essentially a heavy wooden dowel curved into a bow shape with a stout steel hook for the hanging part.  I hang the pants on a separate hanger with clips.  Slapping and straightening the gi after it comes out of the was makes it much easier to fold.  We do a lot of line drying at my house, so I have a garment rack that I hang my wet gi on. 


While we are on the subject of caring for your gi, properly folding your gi after it is washed and dried will give you at least the physical appearance of knowing what you are doing, even if you do not.  This might not be so important in day-to-day class at the dojo, but for a test, especially before the national board, you want to put your best foot forward.  Imagine how it looks (and smells) to a test board to be evaluating someone in a dirty, rumpled gi!  A neat and clean appearance conveys one's humility and respect for others that all true martial artists strive to embody.  An added bonus to folding your clean gi properly:  it turns into a neat compact bundle that fits easily into your bag.








Think of folding your gi as a mental preparation for your next class.  This is what people who practice Iaido (drawing and cutting with a katana, or "iaito" as it is called) do when they fold the hakama, which are the multi pleated skirt-like pants that are worn in that art.  You are making a cognitive shift to focus only on the task presently before you, which is what we are doing during "mokutso," the silent meditation before class begins. 


Folding the Karate gi is so much easier than folding a hakama.  Check this out:






Clean body (and clothing), clean mind...

Wednesday, January 15, 2020

Motivation, Training, and Success

The following was sent in by Kohai Tim, who holds a Dan rank in the Isshinryu style of Karate.  Isshinryu is a traditional style, just as Chito Ryu, so the ideas presented here are absolutely compatable and transferable:



Isshinryu Training and Motivation to Succeed, By John E. Hughes


People have built-in feelings and perceptions regarding Karate training, exercise, and the ability to learn.  Most Americans are brought up to want to succeed quickly.  Karate is an art that is taught using a number of methods.  Some dojos test the student at regular intervals, fees are paid and the student is promoted.  In other dojos, the student signs up for a period of time and at the end of the contract, the student is granted the promotion.  Also, there are training methods where the student trains and when the level of proficiency is attained, the student is promoted.  THE TRADITIONAL ART DOES NOT GURANTEE PROMOTIONS [emphasis mine].  It does promise to help the individual improve physically, mentally, and emotionally; if the student trains properly.

Training methods are learned at the hands of a qualified Sensei, whose attitude, encouragement, and teaching methods help the student to identify the skills, abilities, and values needed to learn.  Motivation is the heart of learning and is dependent upon the purpose for learning.  The nature and extent of the desire to learn will influence the degree of motivation.  The degree of student motivation will determine the extent of personal involvement and help to create the persistence to overcome difficulties and frustrations. 

Motivation and learning are experienced intrinsically and extrinsically.  Extrinsic motivation comes from outside the individual.  The incentive may be to gain prestige, approval, or promotions.  Intrinsic motivation is derived inside the individual due to the enjoyment of the art for its own sake. The individual derives enjoyment, relaxation, physical benefits, challenges, and an expression of “Self” from the study of the art.  Intrinsic motivation does not depend upon what rank a person is but upon the values and abilities that the individual achieves.

To learn, a person must be patient.  To learn, a person must know that there is something to be learned; knowledge to be gained.  The person must add enthusiasm and the will to learn.  Karate is a progressive art.  One starts training with the basics and then proceeds through kata.  The ultimate goal is for the student to gain an understanding of how one’s body, mind, and spirit may be strengthened.  To this end, direction and guidance are added by the Sensei, while motivation and dedication are added by the student.  With continuing effort and desire, the student will be guided to understand what is required to become a “true” Karate student, who is a credit to the art.

******************************************************************
I would like to add here that just as successful training requires intrinsic and extrinsic motivation, one's training should never be limited to what happens inside the dojo.  External learning must also take place, including solo practice (this is where kata are particularly useful) and non-physical study, i.e., reading and watching videos.  If you are a reader of this blog, you probably realize this already.  To be successful in your Karate training, regular dojo attendance must take place.   For a deeper, more meaningful, and more internalized experience DO NOT LIMIT YOURSELF to the two or three hours you may spend at the dojo each week.

Thursday, January 9, 2020

Karate can kill

This is something interesting that makes the point of "original intent" in karate:  It was meant to be a deadly and violent form of unarmed self-defense against an untrained and villainous opponent or opponents, not a sport or a form of physical fitness.


https://www.karatebyjesse.com/2-okinawan-karate-deadly-techniques/

Tuesday, November 26, 2019

Dojo Kun

Dojo Kun are rules governing conduct of students training in a martial way.  The following is from O'sensei Chitose's book, Kempo Karate-Do:

     1.  Always maintain respect for courtesy.
     2.  Always have a serious attitude.
     3.  Always use polite language. 
     4.  Always maintain a high spirit.
     5.  Always maintain a high level of cleanliness. 

     Those who study Karate-Do must take these five principles to heart. 

Wednesday, November 20, 2019

Master Wang Reveals His Secrets







This is "Article 2" in the Bubishi, also known as the Laws of Wisdom.  Master Wang was the second master of a Chinese fighting style known as White Crane Gongfu.


  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, 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 to 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.




Tuesday, October 29, 2019

Sport Karate, 2020 Olympics, and being an (older) "amateur" karate-ka

Whatever your take on sport karate may be, it will be included in the 2020 Olympic Games.  While I do not believe that sporting events, or even competitions, reflect the true purpose of karate, anything which presents karate in a positive light is a good thing.  Increased awareness leads to increased interest, and hopefully an increased number of people practicing and studying karate.


That said, sport karate is not about fighting or self-defense.  It is about winning competitions.  "Real" karate is a traditional fighting system having as its purpose combat effectiveness in a self defense situation, which is quite different from getting in punches and kicks for a judge to score.  Whether these punches or kicks would actually work on the street is not taken into consideration.  It is considered bad form to bloody an opponent, or even to cause minor injury.


Learning a traditional form in a traditional dojo is a fortunate thing.  The techniques we learn, recorded in our katas, are the same tested techniques which have been handed to us through the generations and across nations.  When we practice an old kata like Chinto or Bassai, it is almost as if the old masters are teaching us directly.


Most people who enter a dojo end up dropping out of practicing karate for various reasons.  Most of us who continue to study karate will never reach the level of competence where we would be considered a "professional."  Many who do reach higher rank and continue their study past 35 or so are considered senior citizens in the martial arts world.  This is fine, as karate should be a lifelong study. 


The future is uncertain, and the end is always near, especially on the street.  Olympic karate, I am confident, will be an entertaining spectacle for those interested in martial arts.  It is reassuring to know, however, that what I have been taught will give me at least a fighting chance in a self defense situation.  There are no silver medals in a street fight.  The "winner" gets to survive.  In that light, being an old amateur is not so bad.



Bubishi

Anyone who has had even the briefest introduction to the history of karate understands that the roots of the art are in China. The Bubishi is the "ancient Chinese secret" of karate, a text of techniques and philosophy, that was handed down on Okinawa from master to student. In many cases, the old masters whose names are familiar to us today made hand copies of the text that their teacher themselves had copied. This information was considered top secret until the early 20th century, about the time when the kanji name for the Okinawa fighting system was changed from "Chinese Hand," or just "Hand," to "Empty Hand," and karate was introduced and popularized on the Japanese mainland. Featured in the video below from, who else, Jesse Enkamp, is a teacher of karate named Patrick McCarthy, who has made a recent translation of the Bubishi. He demonstrates some of the techniques in the video, and explains a few of the colorful names. I especially like "Monkey picking the peach."