Tuesday, January 17, 2012

The Which Survives

I have my martial arts heroes. Those precious few who exemplify those traits and attributes in the martial arts that I admire the most; that I most want to develop and enhance in myself. I look at some of those people, and I have to stop and wonder for a moment – exactly why do I admire these people? What are those traits that I admire so dearly? What parts of myself are lacking, to the point that I look to others for guidance toward how I would like to be?

Follow if you care to, and lets see what makes this old man tick.

HUMILITY

This is a big one for me – probably the attribute that I admire more than any other, and I think that the reason I admire it so dearly is that it is so very, unattainably, painfully rare. Of all the martial artists I have met, I have known only two who truly possess this kind of humility. I don’t mean the superficial humility that so many martial artists claim to possess. So many strut around, bowing to their seniors, believing that they are humble because they call someone ‘Sensei’, while secretly waiting for someone to do the same to them. This kind of self-obsessed faux-humility saddens me. Its reflective of a greater arrogance than those who possess it could ever know.

The kind of humility I am talking about is a quiet humility; a silent serenity that envelopes one, and brings them to their knees in reverence for the art form that they have adopted as their own; the kind of humility that causes them to weep in frustration because they cannot master a particular technique; the kind of humility that allows them to be completely enveloped in silent euphoria when they finally do master the technique.

NOTE: there are those who will tell you that admitting to mastering a technique is, by definition, arrogance. Don’t believe them for a second. Mastering a technique IS possible in the realm of human endeavour. The arrogance comes into play when you start announcing it to the world; when you start wearing it like a badge of honor. Those who will tell you that they have spent 30 years working on a technique, and one day they will get it right, are as arrogant as those who boast that they have mastered it. They wear the fact that they have supposedly spent all that time working on a single technique like some mantle of success, expecting their students or audience to ooh and aaah over their dedication and their humility before the impossibly unattainable mastery of a technique. Nonsense.

I am talking about a humility that allows you to know a technique, and know it well; that allows you to be content that you know it, to the point that you never have to talk about it with anyone. Ever. You are content in your knowledge, calm in your understanding and completely happy to let the knowledge of your ability die with you, without another soul ever knowing. Don’t get me wrong- I am not saying that talking about an achievement is arrogant. I am saying that the need to validate that achievement by talking about it is the absolute height of arrogance. The kind of humility that holds so dear a place in my heart is the kind that leaves you content in what you know, desperate to know what you don’t, and wise enough to know the difference.

Since I am writing this blog, I am obviously not one so gifted with this kind of humility.

But I want to be.

COURAGE

Fear is, intrinsically, a terrible thing. To deny yourself something because you are afraid – to allow another to suffer, because you are afraid – to see another or yourself to a poorer standing, because you are afraid – these are not only failings, but they are unforgivable, because they are founded in a notion of human existence that calls to weakness of spirit, and more than this, is completely within each of us to control, and overcome. Those of us who do not, are cowards.

I see those around me who are not possessed of that fear, or more worthy of admiration, have faced their fear and seen it overcome. It doesn’t matter what that fear might be – an instructor, afraid to fail a student at a grading test, for fear that the student might take their monthly dues to another school; an aging martial artist, feeling homeless and without roots in his training, finding the courage to walk into a strange dojo and give himself over to another circumstance; a practitioner with a serious, debilitating injury, finding the courage to train again, after so long in convalescence. The fear, on its own, is irrelevant. What matters; what is worthy of admiration, is the character to overcome it.

I am afraid. Of so many things in the progression of my martial arts training, that I am embarrassed to call myself a martial artist. This kind of fear is normal, I am told. What is not normal, I have learned, is to find it within oneself to overcome that fear. I look at those around me who have done so, and I wonder for their strength of character, for it is something lacking in my own. I have watched these people not only overcome their fear, but hurtle themselves at it, as though the fear doesn’t exist, when I know damned well that it does. I have seen them face it down, though every part of them tells them to run screaming in the other direction, and while I know that they will never know that I have seen that part of them, I hope that they understand, in some grand progression of the universe kind of way, that they have offered such perfect example.

DISCONTENTEDNESS

It sounds odd to admire this trait, but lets face it – if everyone were content with what they know, no one would ever have the desire to learn anything new. Without a sense of wonder of the unknown, and the desire to understand it, there would be no learning; no improvement; no growth. And more`s the pity, the older we get, the more easily our thoughts turn to passive acceptance, rather than a frenzied lust for learning.

But it is this very lust that keeps us young; its that need to know more; to be better; to look forward instead of backward that allows us to grow. Pity those, then, who lose that lust; who are more content to rest on their laurels; who don’t feel the need to push themselves because they have paid their dues, as it were. Pity them, for while they may think themselves content, in truth they are stagnant. A very wise man once said that there is no standing still. You are either moving forward, or moving backward, and it is this sense of discontentedness that pushes us forward.

*******

As I look back over these traits that I admire so much, I pause at the irony. These have very little to do with the martial arts specifically. While these traits can easily be applied to the martial arts, you certainly don’t have to be a martial artist to possess them. What I find fascinating in all of this is that those who have these traits often make the best martial artists.

Be careful who you admire, and don’t for a moment think that because you admire one trait in an individual, that you must admire the entire individual. Few are those I have known in my lifetime that are worthy of complete admiration. Actually, no one is. Everyone is part saint, and part jackass. That`s just the way it is. Admiration for another is very much like the martial arts. You learn the whole of it, and take those parts of it that make the most sense. Such is the inherent contradiction in such admiration – you may find yourself admiring some traits in a person, and hating others.

And that`s ok.

As a matter of fact, I don’t think you can have it any other way. Human beings are too complex; too at odds with their own nature to be completely admirable. Take what you will, and leave the rest behind, with your heroes, as well with the martial arts.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

THE IDOLISES OF KATA

Ever since the day I first walked onto a Dojo floor, my ill-fitting gi wrapped uncomfortably around my trembling and terrified teenage form, I have been showered with the sentiment that Kata is the center of the Karate universe. As the years passed, I began to realize that the dojo I was weaned within was but a microcosm of what was out there; that there were as many divergent opinions about Karate as there were practitioners of the art form.
The one exception to that understanding is the place of Kata within a traditional curriculum.
Each school; each practitioner; each blogger and online resource all championed the same message. The medium might change, as do the words expressing the sentiment, but at the end of the day, all traditional Karate practitioners held fast to the belief that Kata is, and must be, the central focus of martial arts training.
As a junior practitioner, I often questioned anything and everything. Why practice Kata? Why is it so central to Karate training? What does it offer the student that makes it so universally revered? Each time I asked, I was met with a condescending smile; that stereotypical look saying to me “someday you might understand. Keep practicing your Kata, and one day enlightenment will descend”.
And so I did. Diligently. Every day. I learned and studied Kata. I broke the movements down to their barest foundations; reverse engineered the Kata I had chosen to study, and built them back up again. I could perform them with my eyes closed, forward or backward, and for the Kata I had chosen as my own, last move to first. I had dragged every interpretation out each technique; studied the cadence and timing of the Kata until I sometimes felt I knew nothing in this life better than I knew those forms.
As any serious student of Kata will tell you, this process takes years. There are so many layers to Kata, that to pretend this kind of study, measured in months, is ludicrous. To truly know and understand a Kata is the task of a lifetime, not the momentary glance that is possible with only a few years of study under your belt.
I should pause to mention something of my background, at this point. I have been studying Karate for almost 30 years. The better part of my entire lifetime has been dedicated to this pursuit. I have also studied, to varying degrees, Judo, Aikido and modern MMA. Through all of these, Karate has been, and always shall be, my first love. I have studied and practiced it alone and in numbers; I have been teaching martial arts for almost as long as I have been practicing it. I have won tournaments across Ontario (lost more, of course). I say these things not out of any sense of pride or hubris. In truth, I would have preferred to leave my pedigree out of the conversation. I would have the words I write here speak for themselves.  Unfortunately, many of those who read this will, at least in part, base their opinion of what I have to say on their perception of my experience.  It is for these few that I include something of my martial arts education.
And so on I went with my study of Kata. Still wide eyed and without purpose beyond learning for the sake of learning, I practiced my Kata, and like the diligent, too inexperienced waif that I was, believing that one day, I would finally and truly understand; that the light of comprehension would bathe me in their epiphanous waters, and I too would begin to counsel those more inexperienced than I in the truth that Kata is the center of Karate training.
Imagine then my surprise, when the heavens never opened; my disappointment in realizing the truth about Kata; the awkward glances I was forced to offer when talking to those who had been wholly indoctrinated in the ways of traditional perspectives about Kata.
In what is to follow, I am certain that there are those who will scoff; deride and openly criticise. This I invite. I do not speak in absolutes (though I find it ironic that many of those will choose to react negatively to these writings do). I speak in terms of what I believe, of what I will teach, and what I have come to know as my own personal truth.
After a lifetime of misinformation, forced study and complete misdirection, I take a few moments here to offer my understanding of Kata.
**********
To begin with, I want to talk about the most basic reasons students are given for practicing Kata. I will list them here (at least as they were explained to me), and then discuss the merits of each in turn.
KATA ACTS AS A CATALOGUE OF TECHNIQUE
I start with this one because it is the easiest to dispute. The style of Karate I practice and am devoted to (more precisely the dojo I attended) has approx.. 20 Kata in the kyu belt curriculum. I have gone over each and every one of these Kata, countless times, and have dedicated myself to the intense study of two in particular. I can count at least three white belt techniques that are not to be found in any of these Kata.
How can Kata be said to act as a catalogue of technique, when so many of the very basic techniques (not to mention the dozens of more advanced techniques that are likewise excluded) are not included? In my mind, this alone invalidates that argument. A catalogue must be complete, else it is ineffective as a catalogue.
This leads into the more daunting perspective that all techniques can be found within the Kata, if the practitioner studies it deeply enough. I will speak to this later, as it is a far more invasive discussion, and one I would prefer to leave to later pages.
KATA IMPROVES YOUR BASIC FIGHTING SKILLS – DISTANCE, TIMING, etc.
This perspective is grown out of the notion that being good at Kata means having an advantage in other areas of the martial arts – that Kata provides a foundation for the other facets of the martial arts that you will study.
There are many things that go into making a successful fighter, technically speaking. Distance, timing, understanding of technique, speed, power – the list goes on. Kata can certainly help with some of this. The things it cannot help with, to be specific, are distance and timing. Formal Karate Kata, by definition, is performed alone. If a partner is added into the mix, it ceases to become Kata, and is then line work. Practicing Kata will not improve your ability to judge proper distance, nor will it improve your timing. Line work (moving back and forth with your partner performing various attacks, blocks and counter attacks) certainly will, but Kata will not. The reason for this is simple – when performing Kata, you do not have an opponent in front of you, save that which you invent in your mind (a favorite talking point of the true believers). What is missed here is that when you control the opponent, it ceases to be a test of your distance or timing. How can one improve their ability to act or react relative to an opponent, when one knows precisely when and where that opponent will attack? These facets of fighting must be trained against a live, uncooperative opponent if they are to have any true impact.
Having said that, you can of course invent your imaginary opponent, have them attack you in the context of your Kata, and you can react in line with your compliant and nonexistent attacker. I do not dispute that this might, in some small way, improve your notion of timing and distance, but no more so than using a tree, a door frame or other inanimate object for the same purpose. True improvement in these areas can only be achieved by being confronted by a real, noncompliant opponent.
I have to pause for a moment and relate a section of an article I read on the importance of Kata. It was written by Hidy Ochiai, a Japanese born martial artist who came to prominence in the US for his skill, teaching ability and general dedication to the martial arts. In one article, he writes:
“One day while performing Kata, I realized that one of my imaginary opponents caught me off guard. And I realized that if what we were dealing with was actual combat, I would have received a fatal blow. I became aware of the seriousness of this situation, and when I finished the Kata, I felt that my back was wet and cold.”
Reading this article, I take pause to wonder if the author was delusional, or, as so many before him (and after him), so completely indoctrinated into the rhetoric of traditional perspectives on Kata, that he truly believes that he is not aware of everything his imaginary opponent does. Articles such as the one from which this passage is taken make me humbly and supremely sad. Those new to the martial arts, and untried in the truths of Karate might actually take this nonsense at its face value, and believe for their entire martial arts careers that they are doing something wrong – that their imaginary opponents are not able to ‘outsmart’ them, and therefore suffer a lack of ability or understanding.
The truth is far more liberating. The author is either not in his right mind, or simply exaggerating to the point of falsehood to make valid his tired and misguided perspectives.
Practicing Kata does offer some help to those who seek to be better fighters. You can certainly train your speed and balance, both important aspects of fighting. Your power and focus can improve as well, again, both critical elements of any good fighter’s repertoire of abilities. However, I hasten to add that, while Kata can improve these elements of a fighter’s ability, it is not the most efficient means to do so. There are other methods with more effective results.
This brings to mind one of my favorite arguments in this regard. If Kata is so profoundly central to becoming a good fighter, why do the best fighters in the world not universally incorporate Kata into their training regiments?
Whenever I broach this argument, it is met with condescension, both toward me and the fighters of whom I speak. What is noticeably absent from their arguments, is any kind of reasonable, well thought out response. I contend that if Kata is so effective and so central to becoming a good fighter, would not more professional fighters incorporate Kata into their training?
‘nuff said.
KATA IMROVES YOUR SELF DEFENSE
Self defense can be thought of in various ways in terms of the martial arts. Basic, pre-arranged attacks with predefined defenses; attacks that are not known ahead of time, with either pre-arranged or improvised defenses; the list is extensive. In truth, sparring / fighting can be thought of as self defense in its most untamed form.
How then, does Kata aid me in becoming better at self defense? We have already discussed the fact that Kata, in no real way, improves basic fighting skills. So what is left?
This is the crux of the true believer’s argument – that every technique can be found in the interpretation of techniques that exist within basic Kata, if one is willing to dedicate the time and study to truly understand it.
If I take any one technique, and it doesn’t matter which, and I break it down – reverse engineer it, so it sits before me in its most basic and stripped down state; then I study each movement of that technique; add to it; take away from it; move it in a different direction; piece it together with other elements of other techniques; open my mind to universe of applications that each technique offers – this is how to discover the true depth and true expanse of Kata.
Now let’s ponder that for a moment. What the true believer fails to realize, it that Kata is not required to be able to do this! What they are talking about here is intelligent understanding of individual technique. When I break down a Kata, I am not breaking down the entire Kata; I am breaking down the component pieces of that Kata. I am tearing apart the Kata into techniques, and the techniques into smaller fragments still, and building new techniques from the building blocks that the original techniques offer. I don’t need the Kata for this!! In fact, if you recall, we have already established that the Kata do not catalogue all of even the basic techniques of a style – if this is true, then using Kata as a basis for this exploration of technique ends up being limiting, rather than enlightening, because I don’t have the basic techniques at my disposal to break down in the first place.
Also, if I am limited to the direction of the Kata; to the techniques of the Kata; to the flow and timing and structure of the Kata, then I am limited too much. I cannot grow my exploration beyond the limits of the basic Kata I am using, and so I am imprisoned by the pretended limits of the individual Kata, and forever unable to explore the actual, glorious limits of the building blocks of the techniques themselves.
And, if I do expand the limits of the Kata to allow me that greater perspective, then I have ceased using the Kata as the foundation for my exploration. I am bursting out of the Kata’s limits to the point where the Kata is no longer recognizable. If this is so, why should I use a Kata in the first place? Why force myself to break the limits of a contained perspective, when I can free myself of those limits without being constrained by them in the first place?
Further to this, if I can interpret movements of Kata (in all its glorious and winsome limitation) beyond the limits of the Kata itself, then can I not do the same thing with other forms of movement? Entire styles of martial have been built on this very premise – kung fu specifically has several styles based on the movements of animals, all considered to be valid styles. If so, why not, as a mental challenge, break down the movements of a ditch digger, digging a ditch? Of a basketball player performing a layup? Of a pregnant mother giving birth? ANY FORM OF MOVEMENT CAN BE INTERPRETED IN SUCH A WAY AS TO PRESENT USABLE TECHINQUES. To think that this intellectual exercise can only be associated with Kata is not only arrogant, but remarkably and painfully short sighted. In fact, I would argue that there is MORE value to taking a non-martial movement form and performing this kind of interpretation, as it requires more thought and more open mindedness to achieve the goal that Kata disciples claim is the sole property and province of Kata.
So then, why study Kata? And let me be clear in this point. I love Kata. I always have. I practice it diligently, and when I can, I teach it reverently. I know that this may sound contradictory in light of the past several pages, but my intention was never to invalidate the practice and study of Kata. In fact, my intention is exactly the opposite. I want to inspire the study of Kata, based on the value that the Kata intrinsically and honestly offers, not on the pretended value that so many heap upon it.
Kata, to me, is the highest form of the art. It is the end, not the means. I could sit and watch well performed Kata for hours. I hasten to quote one of the martial artists that I respect the most: “If you develop the tools to be good at Kata, you will have all the tools you need to succeed at anything in your life”. Profound words, these, and words I choose to live by. Kata does not form the basis of the study of Karate; instead, Karate training forms the basis for Kata.
I have also learned, at least in  my own limited truth, that at no place and no time will a Karate student come closer to reaching perfection in their endeavour than they will during the honest and limitless study and performance of Kata.
To finally answer the question of why study and practice Kata, I can only offer the answer I gave at my green belt test when asked that very question. Ironically, I felt stupid and inadequate saying it then, but I say it now, loudly and with no fear of contradiction.
Because I love it.
Because it’s fun.
Is there really any better reason?