Commitment IS easier

During a few of our recent classes, Jack has been talking about how "Commitment is easier". At first this does not seem to make sense, surely if you commit to doing something, then you must now go through with the effort of making it happen. That doesn't sound easy. You might also lose the ability to fill your life with others things. Again, not easy.

The point was though, that it was 'easier' than indecisiveness. For example, we could explore a persons commitment to martial arts training. If they are not really committed, then on a class night they must decide "should I go to class or...." followed by an almost infinite number of alternatives. A truly committed student will not need to make this decision, they already know it is a class night and what they must do. The student will not be concerned with the 'what' to do, but the 'how' to do it. Goal based decision making rather than constantly changing the goals themselves.

This also applies in relationships. What if a man were to constantly concern himself with whether his partner is attractive enough, smart enough, kind enough and supportive enough. Out of the billions of women on earth "which" woman is the best for him? Rather than finding a good and worthwhile partner with which to make things work long term, he must wake up every morning and reassure himself that he has not made a mistake. This kind of life must surely become a torment.

Similarly, a martial art student may be torn between different expressions of martial art. Different styles, different teachers, different perspectives. They may even try to create a collage or hodgepodge of various different forms they are dabbling in, because they are constantly fearful that their 'system' does not have everything. Instead of finding a good teacher in a bonafide martial art and committing to a lifetime of study, they must constantly evaluate their inventory and decide what they will study next. Again, this can become a torment.

Commitment IS easier.




Buyu Camp Review

In the middle of September, I took the opportunity of attending Buyū Camp East. I have been taking part in these camps since 2006, and in those years, I can only say that they keep getting better. The welcoming and inclusive atmosphere, the co-operation and strong desire to learn, the level of training and instruction, it keeps pushing the boundaries and evolving from the year before.

Friday Night

Sui no Kata
On Friday night, Jack Hoban took us through some of the Sanshin no Kata. The focus was on how the 5 basic patterns can be mapped into to 3 different perspectives during an attack:

The ethical goal creating context of the situation
The tactical strategy for achieving the objective
The physical method (taijutsu) required to deliver the execution of the tactic.




 I could spend a great deal of time discussing the role of ethics in martial arts, and how it is a framework for long term sustainable success. However, you could also just get one or both of the two in depth books which are already published on the subject:

http://www.amazon.com/Ethical-Warrior-Values-Morals-Service-ebook/dp/B00AEU157I/
http://www.amazon.com/Ethical-Protector-Police-Tactics-Techniques-ebook/dp/B00N7S16OG/

Regarding the strategy, the 5 basic forms were broken down into the way one might recognize, obtain and control a particular tactical space. From there we can gain an understanding of suitable timing, distance, and kamae that would allow us to obtain the strategic objective without violating our ethical objective.

Finally, the movements had to be executed in an efficient, integrated, and smooth manner. Jack explained the importance of body alignment, skeletal organization, and muscle activity, while executing any movement. Using the ground surface, and gravity, to isometrically activate the body, transferring energy through the hip girdle and along the spine to create more effortless, but incredibly powerful and stable, movements.

The Sanshin no Kata came to life through this process, and soon different, more modern looking, attacks were introduced. We saw that the tactic might change slightly, but that the ethic can remain constant, and even the taijutsu need only be mildly refined. Ed Martin also demonstrated that even if the movements become smaller, the principle of the Sanshin no Kata can still be there, although less clearly noticeable to the untrained eye.

Saturday Morning

On Saturday morning, after Ed Martin warmed us up through his breathing routine, Jack walked us through the Kihon Happo.

Ura Shutō from Hichō no Kata
The Kihon Happō are often referred to as the basic building blocks of the Bujinkan system, and even the root of Budō. However,  as we all saw, even the basics are not basic.

Onikudaki 








Following on from the Sanshin no Kata the night before, the Saturday morning session taught us the importance of capturing the opponent in a trap. By correctly taking the space, it is possible to guide the resisting opponent into the exact technique we were looking to create, with minimal effort. The important aspects being soft hands and good footwork, not strong hands and no footwork.

Saturday Afternoon

Fighting from the ground
After a lunch break I attended one of the optional breakout sessions. There were two excellent teachers, Craig Gray teaching ground fighting principles and Phil Bradshaw with modern interpretations of Gyokko Ryū. I ended up in Phil's group on this occasion, but I have trained with Craig before and his classes are extremely helpful.







Ura Gyaku leading to Omote Gyaku - Renyo

Phil focused on progressing us from one basic move into a modern practical application. From here, he then incrementally introduced us into a series of logical next steps. Within a short time we were all executing an entire sequence of flowing forms. He then pointed out that we were doing a sequence that closely resembled the full kata of Renyo from Gyokko Ryū - Jō Ryaku no Maki. At the start of the process we were all focused on a specific technique, but soon we learned to flow from one technique to the next, not fighting for a specific outcome.




Using Kōdachi to close the Kukan
In the next session we could choose between Steffen Fröhlich on the grass or Ed Martin indoors. I found myself in Steffen's class on Gyokko Ryū Kata with Kōdachi. It began to rain a little, but this made the training feel exposed in a good way. Slippery grass challenged our footwork as we tried to play with the concepts Steffen offered us. Opening and closing the space to confuse the attacker, while at the same time maintaining a steadfast and serious feeling.




After training I attended the no-host dinner. It really was nice to eat and drink with old friends and new. Enjoying the company of many Buyū.

Sunday Morning

Controlling an attacker with multiple points of the body
On Sunday morning, Ed Martin again led us through his breathing routine. He then taught a class on defending against knife attacks. He started off with up-close scenarios, and then progressed to how we might protect someone else in a similar situation. Next he progressed to a more ranged attack, and then again focused on how we might use the same principles to protect another person in the same situation.

Controlling with Kuzushi before attempting a Gyaku

 Steffen once again took us through Gyokko Ryū kata, this time very much focusing on the importance of having the correct thought process for dealing with an attack. A good thought will generate a good and powerful feeling, connecting with the Uke and bringing a serious realism to the encounter. Some of the kata we worked on were Danshu, Danshi and Gyaku Nagare of Gyokko Ryū - Jō Ryaku no Maki.

Using the stick like a paintbrush

Next we had a session from Mark Guest focusing on 'the stick'. Mark relayed the importance of training with a variety of styles, shapes and sizes of stick. He also showed the importance of finding the balance point of a weapon as well as developing the ability to quickly familiarize ourselves with any that we should pick up. He also talked a lot about the feeling of the stick, it's blunt edge being very primitive, and the need to defend and control a center line with seriousness.





Sunday Afternoon

The rest of the day was broken into two sections both led by Jack Hoban. First of all, learning to find the balance point of the opponent, so that no matter how much they resist, they only make the technique more effective. Second, defending others, and ensuring we do not get caught up in the techniques and forget our mission to protect another.

Protecting others with Muso Dori

Summary

Overall I had a wonderful time. The teaching was excellent with high level teachers from near and far. The atmosphere was very co-operative and friendly. I made new friends and had a chance to catch up with old ones. I really am grateful to be a part of something so positive.

If you are interested in training at Buyū Camp next year there is already a webpage and a facebook event with more information:
http://www.winjutsu.com/seminars/buyucampeast/index.htm
https://www.facebook.com/events/1231270993566555/




A beginner class, for 15th Dans

For the last several weeks Jack has been honing in on our ability to feel and guide the balance and energy of the opponent, exposing our desire to apply a specific technique using inefficient movement.

Performing different drills we have had to work very closely in the Uke/Tori relationship. The feedback of the Uke is critical to understand the next movement in terms of leading the Uke to a bad space rather than forcing them. Even students of many years are reduced to slow movement and constant feedback. Jack had been joking often "Sorry! This isn't a beginners class anymore."

During a recent class, perhaps Jack sensed the frustrations, as we students seemed completely unable to do, just once, what he repeatedly did to all of us. Eventually my partner and I managed to do some very rough imitations. With a lot of stopping and guiding by Uke we established a zigzagging trajectory which looked like 4 distinct movements rather than 1 smooth one. We knew we were still a long way off and didn't yet feel encouraged.

Jack told us not to worry, we aren't yet used to this way of doing Taijutsu. We were just beginning to learn and it's hard. I observed and quipped "So this IS a beginners class!".

Jack smiled and immediately said "Maybe it is a beginner class for 15th Dans."

We didn't feel quite so bad now. We all have a long road ahead of us. It won't be the first time I had to give my perspective on Taijutsu an overhaul on this journey.

Tetsuzan - Iron Mountain

Recently I was in Japan, and during a training break one of the teachers wanted to know if anyone had any questions. When nobody volunteered anything he said that it doesn't always matter if you have questions or not, because the answers don't always make sense, you will understand when you are ready.

This is a little bit how I feel about the book Tetsuzan which was recently re-released. I originally bought it about ten years ago, I skimmed through it searching for answers to my questions, put it down with good intentions of studying it later, and then after circumnavigating the globe on my travels, I realized I could no longer find it. I soon forgot about it altogether, it was just a book after all, I had many.

Now in 2014 I just read through it again, and the whole experience was different. Instead of looking for what I wanted, I just read through it diligently and let whatever attracted my attention simply 'be'. I got a lot out of it, but the most shocking revelation of all was that.....nothing has changed.

Let me explain via one simple example why I say this. One of the many recurring messages of the book was how important it is to gain good basics before trying to do all the advanced movements. Something I have been told before. Something said at the same Daikomyosai where I bought the previous book in 2004. Something said in Hombu dojo just last month by Soke himself to the entire class.

So why? Why is this message repeated over and over again? My only logical explanation is that generally people are not doing it. They were not doing it 25 years ago, 10 years ago, or last month. And for me this is almost good news. It seems that human beings have a tendency, a tendency towards impatience, and lack of commitment. Why is this in any way good news? Well, because it turns out I am only human after all. Prone to weaknesses, shared by people all over the world. That hearing or reading something is not the same as really understanding or knowing something, but that is OK because it is still the first step. So often I hear that 'acceptance is the first step'.

Furthermore the book reveals that only those who really improve themselves as people can get the most out of this Budo. Tetsuzan is chock full of warning for those that underestimate the need for a good heart, and the importance of defending others or living a good life. That is a relief for me, improving oneself continuously is no easy task, but we are all in the same boat in that respect.

I think the only way I could not have found benefit in revisiting this book, is if I truly believed I had learned all the lessons it provided already. Instead I found the book very revealing, about how little has changed in the pitfalls of studying an ancient martial art. This art is hundreds of years old, and stems from transmissions beyond that. Yes, the book was written many years ago, but the techniques of the Bujinkan are even older, we still practice them.

Tetsuzan available here

Couldn't have put it better myself

At a recent class I was training with a very good Buyu friend of mine, who also happens to be in great physical shape. It was a real opportunity to stress-test my kamae and see if I could get the right positioning and application of a technique. I knew that if I did not have a tactical advantage I would unlikely overpower him. I had one advantage though, he had missed a few classes lately.

We took our time and coached each other through the motions, constantly trying to smooth out the rough edges of our form. We joked that every time we started to improve in one area, we might lose it in another. Our distancing improved, and that threw our timing out, then we improved our timing and we started using the wrong muscles to apply the technique, we started using the right ones and our distance was impacted. Jack told us that this was the whole purpose of training versus fighting, that training was the time to learn and get better. So we had better utilize the opportunity.

At one point my partner got impatient and muscled through the form, this resulted in an incomplete technique that did not quite work. If done quickly it may have caused some damage, but it just didn't feel right to either of us. Of course, this was the one that our instructor observed...

"You muscled it!" exclaimed Jack, smiling.

"I know, I know..." said my partner. And then suddenly he said "I'm supposed to get in to a good position so that I can control him easily, and he finds it very hard to control me, that way a weaker person can take on a stronger opponent and win. Right?"

A few of us stopped. Although nobody, not even Jack, had said it quite so succinctly and directly, that was exactly what I felt we had been focusing on for a while. At least I hoped that was right...

"Exactly!" confirmed Jack, "I couldn't have put it better myself."

It seemed we all knew what we were supposed to be doing, we just had to keep doing it until it became integral to our training.

2d vs 3d Waza

"You are trying to do a technique!" said Jack. I knew I was, old habits truly die hard. Such a statement would have sounded like madness to me years ago, but not these days. We had been practicing some concepts from Ichimonji no Kata, and at first I had been in a fairly comfortable zone. I had been watching the tactical space I was familiar with, I knew the terrain. As we moved on to different shaped attacks, and different directions to maneuver, started including Gyaku and other forms, I started to struggle.

Jack mentioned that we students were mostly doing two dimensional techniques. In other words, we were trying to 'push' our opponents down (one direction) and in order to do this we were trying to unbalance them with a lateral movement (second direction). He pointed out that such techniques might not work because the opponent must simply resist sufficiently in two dimensions to prevent them. If the opponent is stronger than you, or has fast reactions, they have a good chance of beating/escaping your technique. Instead we were told to use three dimensional movements, adding an extra direction of movement to the form. This makes it much harder for the opponent to resist and converts their resistance into further imbalance. This is much more efficient.

I knew this, I should have known this. I even teach this. So what was wrong?

I was in the wrong place. A three dimensional technique uses Kaname (a spiraling action), which requires you to be in the Kukan no Kyusho (correct point in space), and you can only find that point if you are paying attention to the changing tactical environment.

I have been taught many times the precedence of Ethics first, then Tactics, and finally Technique. It is a natural law of nature. If you are focused too much on doing a specific technique you might lose focus on the tactical space. If you lose the tactical space your technique will become two dimensional. It might work, it might not, depending on your opponent. By focusing on being in the correct tactical position as a priority, the technique can become much more efficient. You don't have to 'try' so much.

So when I hear my teacher say "You are trying to do a technique!", perhaps I should try to be more tactically positioned instead. I already know how to try and 'force' a technique if I am in the wrong place. If I want to learn and improve I need to start focusing on the higher priorities.


Soft training and slow training

"Everyone knows that the yielding overcomes the stiff,
and the soft overcomes the hard.
Yet no one applies this knowledge.” 
― Tao Te Ching

Last night we continued our theme of controlling the opponent through his own resistance. Jack mentioned that, last year in Japan, Hatsumi Sensei had revealed the importance of a well integrated body combined with soft hands. I had certainly noticed that concept before when experiencing techniques from various Shihan, but I couldn't understand how or why it worked. It was also very difficult to practice because although it sometimes 'just happened' for me, it wasn't repeatable and therefore difficult to improve upon.

We practiced a technique whereby there was a temporary moment of body tension that caught the opponent by surprise and unbalanced them, it was done subtly but we focused on it in slow time. Without slowing ourselves down we could not 'feel' the effectiveness of our kamae, could not develop our timing, and our uke could not experiment with natural resistance. There was no way to improve by rushing it. As we got more comfortable and as the technique sped up, the kamae, the tension, and the technique itself started to disappear and blend in to our movement.

Some of us had a Muso Dori variation applied to our arm. It felt dangerous, scary, as if our joint was at risk of being damaged, even though it was slow and his hands were soft, there was no way to prevent the pain without throwing ourselves onto the floor or breaking our kamae even further. Jack explained that in a real moment of danger our adrenalin will excite our muscles, and our movements will become fast and hard, adding an extra 30%, or so, of intention. Because of this, it is not necessary to try and hurt the Uke with hard and fast motions when training properly, that could happen anyway, depending on the situation. So this focused slow and attentive training was the way to really teach our bodies how to do it correctly.


Training while injured

I have often heard my teacher talk about training while injured, more importantly though he actually does it himself as an example. Please note the use of the word 'injured', rather than 'highly contagious', or 'seriously ill'.

Many Budoka train frequently, with various different partners, in various different locations. Some work out, or partake in sports, others do physical tasks for work. The chance of hurting a muscle, tendon, or bone over time are high, not to mention the elements of repetition and natural aging. Eventually, something will go wrong. What then?

It really is a personal decision, but here are a few things to consider.

Training should be good for your body if done correctly. You should usually leave the dojo with a sense of well-being, as opposed to a reservation of "how much longer will I be able to do this?". Training should get the juices flowing, and serve as a source of rehabilitation for injured areas.

It is sometimes possible to learn from the injury, and use it to improve your Taijutsu. Often bad form increases the pain experienced performing certain movements. For example I once had a bad shoulder, if I did my Jodan Uke incorrectly I would experience searing pain in my nervous system. By training while injured I re-enforced myself to do a better job of it.

The injury may have happened because of something you can change (bad choice of training partner aside). It could be that you have issues with structural Kamae and movement. Other considerations might be the overall state of your health, such as extra weight and lack of flexibility. Even how we deal with the stress in our lives can effect how we move.

Injuries are a part of life, and real life does not go on hold for you. Part of training is to be able to accept and adapt to the situation. What if you are in danger while injured? It is sometimes good to test yourself a little, and see how you would 'keep going' despite an injury.

Other people might be injured too. Training with other injured people gives you both a chance to train without impacting the rest of the dojo, you can also both appreciate and protect certain areas. Training with injured people and taking their condition into account can also be good training.


Know your enemy

At a recent seminar we were being taught the importance of not focusing on a specific technique, but instead to flow with the opponent. If the Uke tried to pull, we used that pull. If the Uke tried to push, we used that push. If we lost our 'cool' and focused on trying to make a specific technique happen, then our technique could be beaten easily by a strong or tricky opponent.

At one point I was training with my partner, and I started to have problems. I kept wanting to do something, I kept panicking and rushing to what I thought should be the conclusion of the technique. It then dawned on me, 'I' am the problem here. Of course, my Uke is a potential problem too, if I do not move and protect myself he will surely hurt me. But once I have gained some familiarity with the form, my biggest problem is my own lack of self control.

It is difficult to time the movements well. To hold a good integrated kamae, at the right time, in the right place. Taijutsu is difficult. I have to be patient (忍), this is 'training' after all, and not a real fight (実戦). If I can not apply the principles of what I am learning in the environment of a training hall, how can I believe in my training?

I must learn to master my enemy, now that I know him.

Two ears, one mouth

We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak. - Epictetus
This week at class, Jack was teaching us the importance of having a light feeling in the hands. The important thing was to use our hands to contain the opponent, rather than to try to force them into compliance and make a technique happen. In fact, when done correctly, the more the Uke struggled, the more the technique 'worked' and occurred naturally. But, in order for the Tori to feel the Uke and apply the technique correctly, there could not be too much tension in the hands.

After one of the more successful attempts, I mentioned how different the outcome was, and how different the technique felt during execution. Jack said, 'we have two ears and one mouth for a reason'. I nodded understanding the expression, at which point he simply said, 'This is the same thing'. In other words, we have to use our senses (afferent nerves) to understand what is happening, and this is more important than using our muscles (efferent nerves) to try and force a technique.