KATA FOLLOWS FUNCTION: the devil is in the details and into the void.

“A lock is a block is a blow is a throw”  “Advanced Budo” by Tony Annesi

” …let the name be wiped out, for that is what it is, just a name”  “The Tao of Jeet Kun Do” by Bruce Lee

Throughout all the years that I have studied martial arts I have repeatedly met players who waxed on about the lack of reality in traditional martial arts.  In fact, many of the more famous martial artists, Bruce Lee being the most outspoken, considered the traditional styles to be little more than “organized despair”.  These nay-sayers regard traditional training methods, kata especially, to be hopelessly obsolete as they apply to modern sport karate.  Perhaps these critics are correct, but then the vast majority of these guys are also products of traditional systems.  Bruce Lee actually published a book demonstrating a traditional kung-fu form prior to formulating Jeet Kun Do. These students learned, internalized and progressed beyond their original style, but, as often happens, preferred to give credit to themselves rather than recognize the value of their  traditional training.

The new student frequently will question the value of the very rigid and quite large techniques of the standard kihon drills.  Common sense dictates that no fighter would ever be able to use the basic large kihon techniques in self defense: they would take too long and telegraph too much.  The tendency is to discard the full hikite position (the hip chambered drawing arm common to standard Shotokan karate) and drastically shorten the chambered positions of the basic blocks.  The applied punch, of course, becomes more like a boxer’s jab from guard rather than the large blow fired from the hip, while the standard kicks become little snappers or large arcs, each utilized in different scenarios.  Of course the justification for these limited techniques are that “real fighters train like they fight”.  The beginner fails to realize that real fighters were beginners at one time too and have since learned and  thus earned the ability to dispense with tradition.

The first justification of large techniques is based on human learning skills.  Beginners frequently do not have the eye to recognize all the subtleties of each technique. The neophyte often only picks up a couple of the salient points of each movement: the downward block becomes just an arm swinging in front of your groin or the upward block is little more than a windshield wiper flashed over the face. In performance the beginner fails to see how his blocks and strikes differ from those of his instructor, but then is amazed to see the difference in their respective power when those same kihon are used in application.  The neophyte just cannot see that the devil really does lie in the details and those details are designed to develop maximum power in the techniques.  Train large, help the student  see all the details of maximum power development over the full range of motion and then, as the student grasps the entire kinesthetic power chain, the action may be “edited” without loss of effect.  Annesi calls it “Train big to small” in his text “The Principles of Advanced Budo”.

Years ago I picked up a little paperback book called “75 Down Blocks” by Rick Clark. The book itself is pretty rudimentary; basically mediocre photography in simple progressive arrays. Certainly at first glance the book is no Pulitzer candidate, but once you thumb through it a couple of times, the serious martial arts student should find a treasure trove of useful ideas and thought provoking concepts in there.  There are two extremely important points that you should take away from this book: every technique has multiple applications and within every technique may be hidden multiple other applications.  Annesi says it best really: within each block may be a lock, could be a blow, might be a throw; it is up to the student to see the potential.  Coming back to our central theme here: the details of the full range of motion on each technique hide all the potential applications; if the student trains the full action he is actually training multiple other skills hidden in the transitional forms.  If the student foreshortens the technique he will miss these transitional applications and he will have to learn and train them as separate entities altogether. It seems to me that the traditional training of the full range of motion, as slow and pedantic as it can be, is much more time efficient.

I can apply this concept in a much larger way to the performance of kata.  One great beauty of a well designed kata is the ambiguity of interpretation.  I have always been of the belief that every technique in every kata may be applied in at least three different ways.  An example of this may be the first movement of Heian Shodan (Pinan Nidan): a simple downward block.  Rick Clark tells me he can find 75 possible applications for this block alone; combine that with the following step in lunge punch and that particular sequence become almost a self-defense system all of itself.  On the other hand, if you skip over the details of the full downward block and simply swing your hand in front of your body as you step left, the only real application I can see is an intercepting block: useful yes, but hardly versatile.  When I train kata I actually like to emphasize maximizing transitional movements (without excessive complexity) with the goal of maximizing potential applications within the transitional forms.

Consider also the nature of kata: it’s all about training efficient and correct movement. Within any form, even the very simple Heian Shodan or the even shorter Wankan there are numerous steps and turns, each of which provide an opportunity for training the important details that bolster such desirable qualities as flow and balance.  Training slowly and methodically the student learns to lead the movement with his eyes and control each step of each technique to insure full range and smooth transitions.  The student learns to co-ordinate each step with each breath and each breath with each technique and the whole movement along the eye line: attention to the details combines to perfect the whole.

Detailed, repetitive, full range motion training with proper guidance from the instructor will eventually lead to a form of enlightenment at which point the student will transcend simple technique and see the entire potential hidden within.  Once the potential of each technique is recognized, the label of that technique may be discarded: a simple block becomes an entire range of weapons and defenses.  At this point the name merely becomes a label and must be discarded if it becomes a limitation.  Bruce Lee, whatever your personal opinion of the man, had it exactly right: martial arts training should eventually transcend the style and it’s name and become a universal concept. Miyamoto Musashi wrote very much the same thing over four hundred years earlier in Go RIn No Sho, the book of the Void: the master will eventually transcend style and technique, but to do that he needs to attain excellence in both first.  In truth “the void” of technique is only defined by the attainment of excellence in technique.

KATA FOLLOWS FUNCTION: Pure Physics

” The relationship between an object’s mass (m), it’s acceleration (a) and the applied force (F) is  F=ma. Acceleration and force are vectors; in this law the direction fo the force vector is the same as the direction of the acceleration vector”  Newton’s Second Law of Motion

“For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction”  Newton’s Third Law of Motion

Before I start all the “karatespeak”, discussing what I consider the basics of karate, I need to set the tone: I consider karate to be nothing but basic physics applied to the physical human body.  There is nothing mystical about it at all: we are attempting to create lethal ballistic weapons out of our own bodies.  In fact, even if you are not studying karate and your favourite martial art is one of the “twisty-bendy” arts like judo or aikido, you are still learning how to apply force to another physical body and throw it to the ground. Kind of like a catapult throwing a rock.

Coming back to our old favourite term “Ikken Hissatsu” or “one punch kill”. If we are adherants to the belief of “ikken hissatsu”, then our goal in karate is to create the absolutely most devastating attacks or blocks possible. If we are successful in creating those techniques we will actually be applying traditional Newtonian physics as it applies to projectile dynamics. Our fists, feet, arms and legs will be the projectile, while our body will be the weapon.  I really like this particular image and use it frequently in my classes; it works in just so many ways.

When one of our techniques lands on an opponent, what exactly are we delivering to their body that inflicts damage?  We are delivering energy, pure and simple.  In the case of a projectile, that energy is “kinetic energy”. On impact the fist is decelerated (negative acceleration) by the body of the opponent. The kinetic energy of the fist is translated into the body ( the law of conservation of energy) as a wave as the body is compressed by the fist. Kinetic energy becomes destructive energy.  There are only two things that dictate how much kinetic energy that punch carries: mass and velocity. Kinetic energy is defined as KE=0.5 times mass times the square of the velocity.  Two important things the karateka must take from this: you need to have mass (body mass) behind the attack and the energy of the punch goes up exponentially as your punching speed improves.

  Another thing you need to consider is how focal that force may be: spread the force over a large area and it may be easily absorbed by the enemy as a push; concentrate that force into a small area and you possibly multiply the penetration and the focal damage by a huge multiplying factor. The force is increased  by focusing it into a small surface area ( the main reason a woman in spike heels always should be considered armed and dangerous!!) I am talking about hitting with a fist versus a slap: the fist hits with a very limited surface area, focusing the delivery of KE into a small point, versus the slap which spreads it over a large area.  This point is useful in two ways: you know now that a fist will likely cause more damage to a focal area and a slap will be better to use if you do not want to be arrested the next day: the slap is less likely to leave a lasting impression.

Others will prefer to trot out the F=ma equation: this works too and is very useful if you want to discuss “shocking power”.  In this equation we are really discussing deceleration rather than acceleration: specifically the deceleration of my fist by the opponent’s body.  More force will be used by my opponent’s body to decelerate my fist if it is going very fast and I have all my body behind it versus if I am just using my arm at slothfully slow. Note here the only two things on my side of the equation that matter are the velocity of my fist and the amount of body mass I put behind it (also known as momentum). The other side of the equation is my opponent’s body: how long does it take to absorb the shock of my fist? If I hit his bony, hard face, the fist stops quickly, shocking his head back hard and possibly causing a concussion. If I hit his pudgy, soft fat belly, my fist sinks in, gliding to a halt after a couple of inches of deceleration. I would expect this blow to be more of a push rather than a smack down.  On the other hand, maybe my opponent is a trained boxer and he anticipates the head punch. Here he may roll with the punch, riding the punch back and absorbing the blow by moving his head (knowing as “slipping”). Again, here my punch decelerates slowly, becoming a push rather than a shock.  Again, the point here is that the F=ma equation involves my technique velocity, the mass I throw behind it, and how fast my opponent stops it with his face.

How then, does my ability to accelerate my technique (punch, kick) have anything to do with the force of the impact? Think about it guys: you need to accelerate the punch maximally so it is at terminal velocity once it impacts. If you are incapable of accelerating your punch and it hits slow, then the deceleration on impact is far from impressive.

The concept of “terminal velocity” needs to be addressed briefly. Maximum or terminal velocity  occurs about from the middle of the punch path to about the last third or last quarter.  At full extension of the punch your fist is actually slowing down as a protective reflex of your body; it is not really practical to overextend and destroy your own elbow in the midst of a life and death fight.  Every fighter needs to consider this when he is throwing a real punch in a real fight (or against a heavy bag or makiwara); the impact point is short of full extension while full extension represents a point inside or past the target. This explains why we are admonished to strike through a target rather than at a target.

Consider the term mass in the F=ma equation (or the KE= 0.5m v squared.): this equation implies that a fighter needs to involve as much of his body mass as he can behind the punch or kick. This also implies that the mass is aligned well behind the technique and the limb involved can deliver the entire mass movement directly without folding or absorbing the impact along it’s axis.  The visual on this would be the destructive force of a linear projectile (missile) versus the destructive force of a sponge of the same mass: one will spear rigidly through the target while the other folds on impact, absorbing much of the KE back into it’s mass.  The message here is that your limb and your body have to be aligned on impact and kept that way through to completion.

Let’s consider the Newton’s third law now: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. This implies if I hit some opponent, he is actually hitting me back ( via my fist: remember his face is decelerating my fist). If I am more rigid than my opponent and my mass is able to penetrate along it’s line of attack, then my opponent will crumple or be projected away from me. If my opponent ( or the solid makiwara) is more rigid than I, then I will crumple and bounce back. Anyone that has ever misapplied a solid side thrust kick has discovered Newton’s third law: you tend to bounce off the target and fall down if your side thrust kick is not extended enough that you can drive in off the supporting leg. This brings up an important point: for the most part you need to be driving in these techniques while well braced on the floor by the driving leg. Without contact with the floor to brace your body on impact, then you are likely to absorb the impact reaction into your body and bounce off the opponent rather than vice-versa.  This little point explains why hockey players fight the way they do: on a slippery surface you have to brace yourself by grabbing the opponent with one hand while you hit with the other; otherwise you will just slide away on impact.  In some fights the degree of contact with the ground (friction) may have some importance: certainly a slippery gravel parking lot at a roadside beer joint presents a much different situation than the hardwood floor of the traditional dojo.

Some authors prefer to use the term Impulse (J) to explain force delivery in karate. Impulse is a term used to describe the amount of change of momentum of a moving object when a force is applied to it. This change in momentum may be a change in velocity or in the direction of movement. Momentum is described by the equation of p (momentum)= mass(m) times velocity (v). Impulse is defined as J(impulse)= F(force) times t (time). This equation is very specific in what it is saying: an object’s directional velocity (vector) will alter a specific amount when a directional force is applied for a specific period of time. If you apply a different force, then J is different. If you apply that force for a different period of time, then J is different. On the other hand force and time are completely independent of each other: applying a punch for a shorter period of time does not, by any means, increase the force of the punch. The only possible way to increase the force of the punch is to increase mass or increase velocity: an increase of either one of those will increase the KE of your punch and increase the momentum of your punch.  I repeat: force and time are completely independent of each other.  If you were to apply a great force to the opponent for twice as long as you normally do, the impulse on him would be greater and the change in his momentum would be twice as much. Argue all you want, but that is exactly what the equations mean, nothing else. 

 The F=ma equation explains why a shorter impact period may cause more damage far better than the impulse equation. You are best to ignore anyone using the impulse equation to justify “snapping” punches and the like: they either are purposefully cheating or they do not understand simple physics. There is a justification for snapping techniques (they tend to be faster, thus more velocity, and they can set you up quicker for another devastating technique), but the Impulse equation is not by any means the true justification.

We should look at the term “center of mass”. Within a system of inter-related particles (ie: our bodies) the center of mass is the point at which the system’s mass behaves as if it were concentrated.  For the human body this point occurs slightly below the navel and just above the pubic symphysis; in martial arts this is called the “seika tanden” or, for simplicity, the “tanden”. The Chinese practitioners call this the  “Tan Tien” or “Dantien”.  We need to consider this point because when we apply force or have force applied to us, for the most part rotation of our mass will tend to occur around this point.  Control of our center of mass is synonymous with control of our stability.  A low center of mass tends to favour increased stability (to lower the center of mass you usually have to broaden your base: the most stable point would likely be lying down: the center cannot fall any farther and the base is at it’s widest). Raising your center of mass tends to decrease stability and favour mobility ( you need to narrow your base to raise the tanden, thus allowing gravity to help movement).  The standard “stances” of martial arts are all about raising or lowering your center of mass: long, low and stable versus high, short and mobile. The karateka always has to play mobility versus stability when performing: obviously maximizing both would be preferable. Training to maximize both stability and mobility may justify training to move quickly and powerfully in a standard long stance such as zenkutsu dachi (front stance).  Since the body tends to rotate on the tanden, this also explains much of our effort to maintain a strict upright posture: any deviation off the upright alters the lever arm action around the tanden and thus lends itself to instability. Consider a take down (throw) and attack of the downed opponent: if you throw your opponent and lean over his prone body, your own mass will tend to pivot head first around the tanden as your upper body weight drops down. This is especially true if your opponent is grabbing you and pulling you over, helping that leverage.  If you maintain your upright posture and drop down by bending your legs and naturally lowering the tanden as your opponent falls, then there is no leveraged force applied around your center and you are far more difficult to throw.

We should also consider the physics of lever arms.  A simple lever is a mechanical device that rotates on an axis such that a force applied at one end will produce work at the other. Practically all the bones in the body are mechanical levers with the muscles  acting as a complex pully system to do work. Most of the bones in the body act as third class levers: the fulcrum is the joint, the muscle is the force and is applied along the axis of the bone, while the resistance is applied at the far end of the bone in the form of whatever work the limb may be doing.  This arrangement allows for speed of action, and greater range of motion, but does require a relatively large amount of force to move even a small amount of resistance. This arrangement actually provides negative mechanical advantage in favour of range of motion and speed.  The mechanical advantage of the limb actually decreases as it extends:this is one part of the reason that an extended arm is much weaker than a flexed arm. The astute readers here will also understand why most throws and joint manipulations are done at very close quarters: it keeps the lever arm of the karateka’s limbs shorter and thus far stronger.  The speed of action part of this equation also explains the utility of coiled and uncoiled kicks and strikes. Consider the movement of a kicking leg at the hip joint: a ninety degree flexion of that joint represents only about six inches movement. Take that same movement two and a half feet away at the foot end of the leg: the foot moves through a far greater distance (range of motion) to cover that same ninety degree arc; obviously the foot must be moving at a greater velocity than the hip joint.  The coiling action of the leg tends to magnify this action by creating the radial acceleration effect at the hip and knee simultaneously. Furthermore, the coiled leg activates both the hip flexors to move the limb at the hip joint and the femoral muscles to extend the limb at the knee: the net effect is to take a small, fast arc and suddenly extend it into a large fast arc. Large is better.  

One point that needs to be said here (I hope some of you are already saying it): this is all about physics happening to a limited physical body.  Whenever we consider the limitations of the physical body we have to consider how our own muscles act as they provide the force that works our living system of levers.  The muscles are made up of a series of interlocking “ratchet” or “Velcro” like units called sarcomeres. Under the influence of neurological input, energy from oxygen and nutrients, and various enzymes, our muscles activate or relax these ratchets, increasing the amount of relative overlap between the halves of the interlocking ”teeth”: maximal overlap represents maximal contraction, while minimal overlap represents relaxation. The most efficient range of the muscles is at the mid range: neither maximally contracted nor completely relaxed.  This interaction explains why most of our techniques, especially blocks, are most efficient at the middle range, when our limb is at about ninety degree flexion. ( I would bet that ninety degree extension on a punch is about the point when our punch is accelerating maximally and approaching terminal velocity) . 

One last thing I would like to discuss with regards to physics as it applies to martial arts: vectors.  A vector is a term that describes motion or force in a specific direction.  Take for example a bullet launched from a gun pointed at a 30 degree angle upward. The force from that gun created by explosion of the gun powder and the resulting expansion of the exhaust gasses behind the bullet has a vector of 30 degrees upward. The bullet also has a velocity vector of thirty degrees upward. Now, on the other hand, by applying simple geometry this vector can be broken down into components: a force of thirty degrees upward will have component going directly upward at ninety degrees and a component going directly forward at zero degrees. Continuing on this topic there will also be other vector forces applied to that bullet. There will be the force of gravity which is always ninety degrees downward (which acts to counter the upward component of the trajectory from moment the bullet leaves the gun). Then there will be the force of air resistance acting to slow the bullet along the horizontal axis. There may also be a second form of air resistance from any cross wind blowing that may act to both slow the bullet and force it off it’s trajectory with sheer force.  Sounds pretty complex doesn’t it? How does it apply to karate? Consider a front snapping kick: the foot travels from the floor to it’s target on the body: the direct line is forward and up. That foot has a trajectory and a vector, thus it has vector components both forward and upward.  When teaching students most instructors will have noticed that students miss one or the other of these components: some students fail to have any forward vector in the kick and thus just balance on their support leg while kicking practically straight up, while others fail to lift their leg at all and basically kick forward along the floor.  The better students recognize early on that a good kick has both upward and forward vector components.  Similar analogies can be made for just about all our techniques: thrusting techniques usually have mostly forward vectors while snapping techniques often have both forward and angular vectors.  Thinking in this way may not help in actual training, but it certainly does help an instructor recognize student’s shortcomings in many techniques.

Consider all these ideas and perhaps add to them outside the dojo: deep thoughts about Newtonian physics while you are training out on the hardwood is absolutely innappropriate and likely to get someone hit and hurt.

KATA FOLLOWS FUNCTION: First Comes Intent

“If by getting one’s heart right every morning and every evening, one is able to live as if his body were already dead, he gains freedom of The Way. “  Yamamoto Tsunetomo, “Hagakure” about 1716

Superficially, the old samurai quoted above seems to be discussing a morbid, nihilistic existence devoid of passion or focus.  In fact, if you read about old Yamamoto, he likely was a sour old pessimist, constantly bemoaning the passing of “the good old days” (very much like all the old karateka who constantly tell us  just how tough “real karate” was back in “the day”).  On the other hand, Yamamoto was actually trying to catch the essence of the entire Samurai code: serve your obligations regardless of the consequences to yourself. To the old samurai this fulfillment of obligations meant serving his daimyo (master) in every way possible, even if it meant imminent death.  Perhaps this attitude may seem a bit antiquated in this modern world, but without too much mental gymnastics, one can see a valuable lesson here that can be applied to both karate and life.

I remember when I was fourteen my father taught me perhaps the most important lesson of my life. At the time I was a dedicated competitive swimmer and as such I had committed myself to attending early morning training every day.  One week I was offered an opportunity to make a little pocket money by covering a friends newspaper delivery route. This would directly conflict with my swimming practices.  My father forbid me to cover the route, despite the fact it would earn me ten or fifteen dollars pocket money, a considerable sum back in the mid-seventies.  Of course there was the inevitable father-son confrontation, and, as usual, my father prevailed. He told me this, and I carry it to this day: “If you make a commitment to something, you have to follow through, despite any trivial losses to your wallet. You have to learn to follow through on your word; it helps you three ways: you will never lightly make promises, people will learn that they can trust you, and you will learn what your real priorities are”.  Of course, all this was said at a much louder volume and perhaps a wee bit firmer than I let on. My father may have been wrong once in a while, but he was right that day.  It really is liberating to have priorities and focus within your life; call it acting with intent.

All too often I run into karateka who really do not have a faint clue of what they are actually trying to accomplish in karate.  Some of them spout out the standard platitudes about self-defense, others will discuss their aspirations in sport karate, and yet others will positively glow about attaining their black belt.  All these reasons may in fact be worthwhile, but if you then turn around and ask them HOW the current training they are doing actually contributes to their goals, they often are completely stymied.  Why do we do so many repetitions in Kihon? No idea. What timing do you prefer in kumite and what is your preferred attack distance? Not a clue. What exactly are the kata for????? Well, for the last one the answer is easy: We need to know the Heian kata for  gradings, and a bitchin’ Unsu is likely to win  a championship trophy.  Hopefully we all recognize the superficiality of that last statement.  This lack of intent in our training is possibly the major weakness in karate curriculum. We all dance around in white pyjamas but do not understand why or where it all is leading.  Before  training has any use, every karateka needs to find the underlying intent and focus on training that intent during every session.  If you train with intent at all times, every session becomes productive.

Let’s look at Kihon training. The key characteristics of standard kihon training are repetitive actions and infinite attention to detail. Each individual technique is dissected into segments, each segment is trained numerous times and then the segments are re-assembled into a whole technique. This is actually the true definition of the term “Bunkai” (we all incorrectly tend to use the term with regards to studying kata applications). Once that technique is sufficiently developed, the class moves on and either trains another technique in similar manner or adds that second technique into the mix to create a combination. Throughout all of this the emphasis may alter for each training set: perhaps the instructor is looking at force development, co-ordination of action, or body alignment. There may be different drills for each of these concepts or the same drill may be used with the emphasis shifted.  The student has to focus on the actual drill at hand,  sincerely trying to follow the instructions given by the sensei. On the other hand, the student cannot allow his basic performance of the elements to falter as he concentrates on just one: this is a form of multi-tasking.  Kihon training, by nature, is the best example of the “Zen” nature of karate: creating a list of little details, internalizing that list and allowing the repetitive training of “the list” to become reflex action when the complete technique or combination is performed.  The goal of this training is, in fact, the creation and internalization of perfect technique.  The completion of this thought process must be that because perfection is truly unattainable, this type of training should challenge any karateka regardless of experience or rank.  Black Belts can just quit whining about having to perform white belt techniques; most of us have not quite got those perfect yet.

Kumite training is a difficult subject. To most karateka  excellence in jyu kumite is the penultimate goal of karate.  Common sense dictates that if a person wins all his karate matches, he must be really good at karate. Winning appears to be the goal of kumite and as such, we tend to train kumite that way. Unfortunately, this approach is, in the long run, actually detrimental to our karate.   Karate is not about winning: it’s about fighting perfectly.  Miyamoto Musashi discusses this very subject in the third book of “Go Rin No Sho”: if you kill your opponent accidentally by a clumsy slash this is just good luck rather than good strategy.  Furthermore out on the tournament floor the fighter needs to concentrate on the moment only, allowing the balance of success or failure to pivot upon his hours of dedicated training back at the dojo.  He cannot afford to consider winning or losing during the match.  This mind set should be taken to the dojo: train as you would fight. Back in the dojo the fighter has to release his need to “win” and replace it with a need to “train”.  In the dojo the fighter must be willing to experiment and frequently concede points to less talented fighters as he perfects each of his weapons. The dedicated karateka needs to train all his weapons: indeed he should perfect his “favourites”, using them in every possible method, but he also should experiment with techniques he is less comfortable with, finding those which he can definitely use and discarding others.  This thought process is called “winning by losing” and every karateka should embrace the process.  

Of course there are numerous other factors that should be trained in kumite, all of which are involved with the “winning by losing” scenario.  Kumite, more than anything else, is about training to control just two things: maai and zanshin. Maai is a Japanese term (no kidding!!) that combines the concept of timing and distance.  Because kumite deals with two moving subjects, the concepts of timing and distance cannot be considered separately.  Indeed, timing, distance and technique are all interconnected.  Here is an example: you cannot throw a front snap kick as quickly or from the same distance as a punch: the punch is faster, but needs closer attack range.  The use of one or the other technique depends completely on where you stand with relationship to your opponent.  On the same token, the response of the opponent depends completely on those same factors. Furthermore, the distance and timing are constantly shifting because you have two subjects in motion on the kumite floor. Zanshin, yet another Japanese term,  liberally translated means “continuing focus” ( no doubt others will give a better translation: this is my take on the subject).  I personally have real difficulty with zanshin: I am notorious for losing my focus (daydreaming) while sparring. I get concerned about what I am doing, how I am doing it, what my opponent is doing, what that little kid over in the corner is up to and where is his mother?  Inevitably I get hit, usually quite hard and the fight is over.  This is absolutely my weakness: lack of Zanshin.  This all comes back to the “Zen” concept, doesn’t it?

Here are two terms that are worthwhile to know; if nothing else you will be able to impress at the next frat party or re-union. “Mizu no kokoro” or “a mind like water” is the first. Specifically the water of a calm lake that reflects the mountains around it equally and accurately.  Once the water is stirred by the wind it no longer reflects anything accurately.  Much like the emotional mind, stirred by fear and confusion. “Tsuki no kokoro” or “mind like the moon” is the second.  Here consider the moon shining down upon the world illuminating everything within it’s light equally.  The suggestion is that you need to see everything about the opponent without specific focus on any one part: in karate all parts of the opponent are potentially a weapon, so no part can be ignored.  I like these concepts: they succinctly encapsulate the concept of zanshin for me.  Of course, the water in my mind is naturally muddy and my moon is a 15 watt light bulb.

Finally we come to kata, the very core of karate and easily the most misunderstood part of our curriculum.  Our traditional kata reflect so many things that one paragraph in one simpleton’s web log cannot come close to doing it them justice. Technique is indeed an integral part of kata: individual techniques and the all-important transition between them.  Certainly strategy is demonstrated in kata: even the beginner level Heian kata demonstrate  early-interception timing elements (to be discussed much later).  Sequence analysis of each kata can be used to reveal detailed and logical strategies against common attacks. And, finally, there certainly is art found in karate kata.  Each student finds his own vision of each kata as he trains.  On first learning a kata the student will muddle through, attempting to follow exactly the commands of his senior instructor. Once the student has the kata internalized until he can flow through it flawlessly, a timing and rhythm all his own will develop. Each student has to find his own rate and rhythm for these kata; without artistic flair the kata are merely dead cultural dance performed merely for rank or trophy.

Perhaps more than any other part of karate, intent must be applied with every kata training session. Each passage through the kata should develop some part of the karateka’s skills.  Perhaps, as the Japanese tend to, we want to use kata as a complicated form of kihon. Certainly this is a very worthwhile pursuit.  Extreme attention needs to be paid to eye-line (messen), transitions, stances and posture alignment, breathing (ibuki) and specifically the use of breathing to co-ordinate the techniques and transitions. As the karateka develops the complete kata with all these elements, he will find there is a rhythm and flow of the kata punctuated by appropriate application of “kime”, the focusing of mind and body for an instant at the completion of each technique.  Once the external form is completed the student may start to find applications within the kata: we always have to keep in mind that the form of the kata flows from the function of the kata.  There are indeed applications for every move within our kata and those applications dictate the form of those kata. Advanced karateka need to develop applications for their kata; the best of these will require no alteration of the kata form to be realistically applied. Once the karateka has an efficient application for each technique or sequence he can now use them for visualization while he performs.  Once the karateka has this inner vision developed he should use that to give his performance realism and life.  From this vision comes the artistic side of kata training: those that have the best, most realistic vision will likely have the most impressive, realistic kata. 

Take all this to the real world: self defense.  If you have trained well and diligently you have all the weapons prepared and on line, your kumite has given you the mental stability to remain strategic on deadly ground, and your kata has helped you visualize defense options for numerous varied attacks.  Finally, perhaps most importantly, you have confidence and intent. With intent of action, devoid of hesitation and confusion, the well trained karateka is likely to carry himself slightly differently in public. An air of confidence and security might be the first impression of any potential assailant watching the karateka. Perhaps this alone will give the attacker pause for concern. Perhaps it may convince a mugger to move off and find a more appropriate victim. In fact, there is little doubt in my mind that a well trained karateka is actually less likely to end up in a physical confrontation because of his training rather than in spite of his training. Criminals do not like the focused and confident members of society: they look for the hesitant souls, devoid of intent, drifting aimlessly into trouble.

KATA FOLLOWS FUNCTION:The Zen in Karate

“the way of the warrior is resolute acceptance of death” Miyamoto Musashi in “the ground book” in  Go Rin No Sho

And so the most famous swordsman of history succinctly encapsulated an entire philosophy that guided the warrior’s life. Certainly this is not an solitary quote: Yamamoto Tsuenetomo stated almost an identical attitude in his “Hagakure”, a lengthy ode to the samurai way written only a few decades later. The similarity between the two authors is somewhat ironic: Musashi wrote as a homeless cave dwelling recluse after a lifetime of bloody confrontations while Yamamoto wrote as an embittered courtier living in self exile after a lifetime of bureaucracy.  Both are discussing the mind set that was probably the most lethal weapon of the ancient samurai: the ability to disregard emotional influences such as fear and focus wholly on acting or reacting appropriately regardless of the imminent danger (Munen Muso).

The adoption of Zen Buddhism, which includes many elements of the older Taoism, by the warrior class of Japan is really very logical. The inclusion of Zen behaviour and thought in any martial art  is of great benefit as long as there is some understanding of what the exact goal of this practice really is.

Consider the traditional Samurai battlefield. Prior to the introduction of the gun in the late Sengoku Jidai period (just prior to the assumption of the Tokugawa clan to the Shogunate), the “big gun” of the battlefield was the bow and arrow.  If you were an archer, your job was to draw your bow and fire arrows very accurately at the enemy to kill him.  You had to do this while standing immobile well within range of his arrows raining down upon you.  This is all very logical: if he is within your range, then you are likely within his.

Now, anyone that has ever fired a gun at a living animal knows that you are often affected by “buck fever” just as you pull the trigger; your pulse races, your breathing heaves and your hands shake. You frequently miss your target completely.  The way to control “buck fever” is to slow everything down: slow your breathing by counting as you inhale and counting as you exhale, brace your arms to your body and ritualize the entire action. It is difficult.  Consider now how difficult that “slowing of the action” would become if your quarry was an angry buffalo charging down upon you at close to thirty miles an hour.  You know you will die if you miss and you know that you will miss if you do not calm your nerves. The only way to avoid death is to release the fear of death immediately so you can indeed overcome the “buck fever”.  Apply that concept to the medieval battlefield.

Enter Zen of Taoism.  At the basis of both of these is the concept of keeping everything simple and very basic. Take care of the small details and the big details with take care of themselves.  Considering the small details tends to create a check list of “things to do” to complete the action.  Check lists repetitiously trained tends to create ritual.  If the warrior remains loyal to “the ritual”, unconcerned that his enemy is raining death down upon him, he remains within the moment, concerned only with completion of his assigned task. On the same token, if he is truly successful in his task, then his enemy dies and no longer able to kill him. His success and his survival are practically synonymous and both depend on him disregarding his own fear of death. Living within the moment, focused on action and unconcerned about personal risk becomes a true survival strategy.

A modern day example: a professional pilot. When the shit hits the fan every pilot is trained to start a standard protocol checklist designed specifically to deal with any possible emergency. Cockpit recorder tapes are filled with the voices of good pilots ritualistically going through checklists as their ill-fated plane augers into the ground. The ritualistic nature of these lists are there for two reasons: experience has provent them effective for problem solving and the ritualistic nature of them keeps the pilot in the present, too busy to consider the consequences of failure.

Apply this to karate in both small scale and large scale. We train hundreds, if not thousands of repetitions of fairly simple actions. We are told frequently that “only perfect practice makes perfect” and “do it right before you do it fast”.  Both of these approaches apply to the concept of “take care of the small things” (each segment of each technique, each technique in each combination, each combination in each kata).  We are trying to create reflexive reaction by repetitive conditioning (“no mind, forget technique, forget self”) The technique ceases to be a conscious action and becomes merely an unconscious reflex to a percieved threat or opportunity for attack.

Consider also the nature of Zen within the competitive arena. When sparring you cannot consider what you opponent MAY or COULD do, you can only react to what your opponent IS doing.  You cannot consider what you MIGHT do or what you JUST did, you can only consider what you ARE doing or you CAN do right now. You have to live within the moment: pondering the next moment or the last moment is likely to get you hit. The only thing you can do is to act and react as the situation unfolds and have the faith that your previous, exhaustive training will allow you to overcome. This is the nature of Zen within the context of karate.

The concept of “ikken hissatsu” so often quoted in the karate dojo is clearly part of this budo philosophy.  Ikken Hissatsu, liberally translated, means “one punch kill” or finishing blow.  In my opinion this should not be considered to be a literal command but a working concept.  This is merely an exhortation to optimize every technique for maximal effect. Train every technique or every detail of every technique as if it is the only technique you will be able to use in the conflict. You need to train diligently all those little details and “become the list” so each technique you use is as close to perfect as possible and can be performed thoughtlessly, as a reflex rather than a conscious effort.  “Ikken hissatsu” may also represent a Japanese version of the older Latin term “Carpe Diem” or “seize the day”. Both are exhorting the student to perform everything as if this is the only thing, the last thing you will ever do. Note that the results of that “ikken hissatsu” are not necessarily considered: the results of perfect technique are merely a side effect of that perfection and not the goal. Perfection of technique is the true goal and this can only be achieved by ignoring the potential outcome of success or failure.  We come full circle: you can only achieve success (or survival) by forgeting success (or failure) and only considering performance: you need to live in the moment, live in the “lists”.

KATA FOLLOWS FUNCTION: where is this going

“Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the men of old: seek what they sought”   Basho

The new student in the karate dojo is faced with a myriad of peculiar terms in a foreign language and a plethora of techniques that appear simple enough until the instructor starts “correcting and perfecting”. To the new student the novelty of it all seems to be endless.   Stances, blocks, punches, kicks, strikes, kata, timing strategies are all thrown out, often in no particular logical order and with no particular goal beyond the next grading examination.  In fact, when queried, I would bet that many karateka only consider rank or tournament success as their “goal” in studying martial arts.  In today’s society, distanced from the battle field or the dangerous dark alley, training in the martial arts has often become about the acquisition of new skill sets and the completion of syllabus requirements to attain rank rather than the ability to defend ones person.  We now follow our sensei and try to match or surpass him, rather than mastering the fighting skills that the founders were trying to preserve.

The presumption of this essay is that there are some underlying principles that provide a logical framework upon which we can build all the individual skills from. Logically those principles will fall into two broad categories: the techniques and the strategies.  Simply explained the techniques would cover “the how” of karate, while the strategies would cover “the when” of karate. There is really only one valid “why” in karate: you fight only when you are forced.

I have several texts by well know authors that discuss  “the basic underlying principles” of martial arts. They all are truly excellent and I plan on quoting most of them throughout this essay.   I freely admit that I have all the originality of a common two by four plank and almost everything I discuss here will be scavenged from other, far more capable authors. On the other hand I believe that most, if not all of them, have made the whole thing too damn complicated, They have attempted to be too all inclusive.  Rather than simplifying and organizing their systems, they have expanded and complicated their system by merely adding yet another layer of details on top of everything else. Generalizations are only useful if they simplify explanations and discussions, especially when teaching.

Here is my plan: I will attempt to generally cover the very basic concepts of technique and strategy as I see them. I will expand those basics with examples, describing in some detail  how we use those basics within each technique.  With regards to strategy I will attempt to explain, with examples and references, how I believe there really is only one winning strategy. Within that discussion I will touch on the various sub strategies that should be considered within “the master plan”.  If the reader wants to skip over this section, especially those people who know my own strategy is usually “exhaust the enemy by allowing him to hit me frequently and continually”, just read “Go RIn No Sho” by Miyamoto Musashi, it really is the master text of winning strategy.

Once I have established the “basics” of technique and strategy, I will attempt to apply those principles to my favourite topic: kata. I will briefly touch on technique training within kata and spend  a little time on demonstration and training of strategy within kata. For simplicity sake, I will usually use the simple Heian (Pinan) kata for these sections. I hope to touch on the historical reasons why we no longer actually know the “real” applications of the traditional kata and perhaps make a plug for my own opinion of why we lost the true meanings.  Moving on from there, I plan to look at the common assumptions (the kata code or “rules” of kata application analysis) made when analyzing kata with regards to applications.  Using these conventions for kata analysis, I hope to illustrate how many instructors are now “reverse engineering” the old kata to find those fighting strategies hidden within. 

Once I have covered all this ground, I want to take a ninety degree direction change and look at how applications of the basic techniques, strategies and “the kata code” may be used to “forward engineer” my own kata. This part of the essay will not be about creating a new kata for general consumption and demonstration.This section will be about applying and playing with karate kata theory to help develop a new, better understanding of the existing traditional kata.  Perhaps by muddling through the process of self creation the student (myself) can come to a new understanding of the challenges and difficulties of kata development.

Of course, if my creation proves worthwhile, it might be tempting to explore the other half of kata development: evolution or devolution through generational passage.  I believe is would be very beneficial to see just how public consumption of an art form such as a karate kata would effect that kata. How would various people alter that kata to fit their own vision of how karate should be? Would these changes truthfully reflect the changes that the original, traditional kata underwent over the last two centuries?  This part of my essay is perhaps the most interesting and it will have to write itself.

KATA FOLLOWS FUNCTION II: what is karate?

OK, so this is the part where I feed you the standard, run of the mill pap that appears in just about every other karate book: “Karate is a lethal empty hand combat technique with a 2 thousand year history originating in the Shaolin temples of China, exported to Okinawa and popularized by Japan.” Is that enough for you? It certainly is enough for me.

Karate, at least the common forms practiced today, has about a 150 to 200 year history and can be traced back to a few specific originators who travelled to Southern China and imported the empty hand combat forms they learned there  back to their home in Okinawa.  In fact, most of the very common karate forms can be traced directly to Sokon Matsumura and his student Ankoh Itosu.  It was a very short 2 thousand years.  Certainly there are deep historical roots at the base of karate, but only because all men have been fighting and killing each other back into the mists of time.

There is no doubt in my mind that karate is indeed a “lethal” combative art. On the other hand, is it more lethal than Kung Fu or Jiujutsu? How about French Savate or Brazilian Caporiea? How about getting angry and just picking up a big rock and beating some victim with it? My bet, is that if you were able to do a study you would find the last style, generally known as “frothy mad ass-whooping” is the most lethal martial art known.  Certainly the  biblical story of Cain and Abel proves that it is the first lethal martial art. In truth, any time that you beat on another human being (or animal for that matter) there is a really good chance that you might kill them: killing is just not that difficult. Killing, or the ability to kill with one blow, is never anything to boast about.

A student of karate does not learn how to fight: every one of us already knows how to fight. It’s hard wired into us to defend ourselves and most of us do it quite well if pressed hard enough. What karate is (to me) is a systematic method to learn the optimal or perfect way to defend yourself with empty hands. Karate can and should be compared to traditional Newtonian physics: it is all about how things would work in a perfect world.

Back in high school we all muddled through basic physics, calculating how far a bullet would fly with a specific muzzle velocity and a barrel inclination of so many degrees from an elevation of so many feet. We ran through intricate calculations, drew numerous vector diagrams, factored in gravity and finally found the range of the bullet to within a foot. Heck, we even calculated the kinetic energy of that bullet when it landed. Having done that, we proudly turned in the project and were summarily told that we had done good work, but indeed had the wrong answer for the real world. Bullets do not fly in a perfect world, they fly in the real world where there is wind, air resistance, rain and a tendency to tumble in that soup we call air. Newtonian physics is all about some perfect world were everything acts in a vacuum and friction does not occur.  Worthwhile knowledge and sorely needed before the student moves onto “real world” problems, but still not real.

Karate is much the same way;  We practice on smooth hard wood floors in spacious gyms and dojos. We wear loose clothing that never restricts our joint range of motion. We warm up well prior to training and we train under controlled, non-threatening situations.  All our training is about creating optimal force from a stable platform. We seriously discuss the concept of “ikken hisatsu” or one punch finish. Stances, techniques and even sparring drills are controlled and often very predictable.  Everything is sanitized, predictable and more or less safe.  Before you question this, ask yourself who the most dangerous members of your dojo usually are; for me it is the beginners. They are unpredictable and usually scared. They have no control and they have yet to understand the nature of karate. They are willing to hurt any senior belt because they still believe that is what karate is all about and that black belts are invincible. They are still living in the real world while the rest of us experienced karateka have forgotten what the real world is. We are the deluded ones; our beginners are the real warriors.

Consider the real world with regards to self defense. It’s a concrete jungle out there, filled with cars and light posts, mail boxes and fire hydrants. The streets are often wet, gravel covered or icy, while parking lots have hundreds of obstructions in the way of a good clean fight.  And then there is the personal factors: in your real life you wear real clothes that restrict your movements and make each step slightly unstable. Go on, slap on your shit-kicking western boots and just see how stable your spinning back hooking heel kick feels. I would bet those tight jeans destroy your flexibility and the gravel that covers just about every parking lot in the Northern hemisphere makes for some interesting footing. This is the real world.

For karate, or any martial art, to be truly useful, the student has to realize that he is studying a theoretical fighting method designed to give the basic building blocks of optimal technique. The thought process must be that the student is learning “fighting in the perfect world” and then must take those principles and modify them to fit the real world experience.  If the student fails to make that leap from theoretical to practical, he is absolutely missing the entire point.  Of course, it is always worth a good laugh when some fool drops into a classic “cat stance” with his hands in double chicken head position as the battle hardened gang member from “the hood” is about to kick his ass big time. 

This disconnect we may see between the “karate world” and the “real world” is where my point of view comes from. This blog is a sincere effort to distill the “theoretical axioms” of karate down to a few, finite and memorable points that will transfer across any style of karate and indeed out into the “real” world. Throughout this blog I will tend to apply what I call the eighty percent rule (basically Pareto’s law of economics): anything that is true and applicable eighty percent of the time should be trained at least eighty percent of the time and allow all the other details and exceptions to take care of themselves.  I am sure the nit-pickers of the world will beg to differ, but then they can write their own blog and trash my name all they want.

The “take-home” from this installment is Pareto’s Law.

WHO THE HELL AM I?

“Do not believe on the strength of traditions even if they have been held in honour for many generations and in many places; do not believe anything because many people speak of it; do not believe on the strength of sages of old times; do not believe that which you have yourselves imagined, thinking that a god has inspired you. Believe nothing which depends only on the authority of your masters or priests.  After investigation, believe that which you have yourselves tested and found reasonable, and which is for your good and that of others”   Buddha  

 

Well, the first thing I will admit is that I am no sensei. In fact, I am the leader of nobody; if you follow me, just remember: I might just be the first lemming at the edge of the cliff.

I am a teacher of Shotokan karate. I have been teaching for over ten years.  I have been doing martial arts for well over twenty years, the vast majority of it  traditional ITKF Shotokan karate.  I am what you might call ” a true believer” when it comes to Mr. Nishiyama’s approach to karate. I do have my own ideas, or, more accurately, I have my own way of seeing things and saying things, but the basis of all my beliefs stems from the dojo of Hidetaka Nishiyama.

In my early years I actually studied the Yang style Tai Chi Chuan Long Form. I still do the long form daily, but I would suspect that it now looks a lot like Tai Chi with karate stances and dynamics.  The two martial arts actually do compliment each other; many of the elder statesmen of karate such as Mr. Kanazawa train Tai Chi Chuan very seriously.  I admit my reasons for starting Tai Chi were far less than honourable: I believe her name was Sue and she and May West had a lot in common, if you know what I mean.

I started karate very late in life: I was 29 and my daughter was not quite a year old yet.  I know that many of you hard-core karate guys started karate while practically suckling babies, but I had other fish to fry in my youth. I was a serious competitive swimmer into my early twenties. I managed to place in the top sixteen in two events at the 1980 Olympic Trials.  I still train in swimming to this day: I remain only a pound or two above my teen-age competition weight.  Being a national class athlete gave me a step up on most other karateka: I had the internal self discipline hammered into me by years of dedicated deprivation in the pool.

I earned my Shodan ranking back in 1997. I never have bothered grading beyond that point. I still study karate passionately and I have actually written a couple of published articles on various subjects. I just don’t have much interest in ranking.  If you really are impressed by ranking and want to wave your rank in my face, go ahead. I don’t care what your rank is or who gave it to you. I could care less if you were a multiple national grand champion. All the cheap trophies in the world or the stipes on your belt do not necessarily translate to knowledge or teaching skills.  Superficial awards only represent physical skill (and sometimes political savy). I have sat next to Olympic gold medalists and know what a truly great athlete really looks like: most karateka do not qualify in those ranks.

Enough about me. It’s not about me. It’s really about karate and the wonder of the art.

KATA FOLLOWS FUNCTION: an exploration of core karate

“These are my principles. If you don’t like them… well, I have others”   Groucho Marx, the comedian

 

This blog will form the basis for what just might be my personal Everest.  For years I have practiced karate, studied karate, written about karate and generally immersed myself in an artform that I am wholly unsuited for. I am neither co-ordinated nor fast, I am not particularly aggressive or combative, and I think way too damn much.  What I am gifted at is systems creation: give me any jumble of vaguely related objects, thoughts or theories and I will find some logical, simple way to relate that collection.

One may ask what right does a simple Shodan ranked karateka have to comment of subjects hotly debated by his senior ranked colleagues? Just where does a nobody from nowhere get off discussing topics he cannot even begin to understand much less explain? I reply simply that even the village idiot is right sometimes and often the best ideas come from humble minds. Perhaps it is my very limitations that make me appropriate to this task: none of this comes easy to me, so I have to look a lot deeper than my much more talented superiors.

I originally thought I would actually publish a book on this subject and I may still. On the other hand, putting this out on the world wide web does any number of very useful things. It opens up my ideas to a far greater audience. It allows people an opportunity to critique my work and perhaps improve it through liberal editting. Finally, it saves some publishing company the expense of publishing a book that three people will buy (well, maybe only two: my mom is not all that healthy and I doubt she will be around to see the finished results).  And so it begins….