Showing posts with label Chinese Internal Martial Arts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chinese Internal Martial Arts. Show all posts

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Beautiful, Soft Xingyi



I have talked to other Tai Chi Chuan people who are both awed by the power of Xingyi and at the same time skeptical that it is an "Internal" martial art.
So often it is performed in a very aggressive "Kenpo" kind of way that people loose sight of the eb and flow and generally meditative beauty of the art.
I'm not sure of the lineage of this form, but I absolutely love it. This is more how my instructor teaches us to move. The problem with those who immediately try to access the power within Xingyi is that they can't feel the subtle "internal" aspects. Tai Chi Chuan forces us to recognize this. But because Xingyi is (As Tim Cartmell tells us) "mass in motion", the subtleties are overlooked by people trying to harness the power.
I just love this form.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Martial Metanoia

My old San Ti stance, pre-correction


Metanoia:

: a transformative change of heart; especially : a spiritual conversion.
Greek, from metanoiein to change one's mind, repent, from meta- + noein to think, from nous mind
First Known Use: 1577 (Merriam-Webster)

Every now-and-then we experience something in our training that shakes our core beliefs. This is a natural process, and we are smart to learn and grow from it.
Ever since I attended the Tim Cartmell seminar on MMA concepts adapted to street use, I've had to really re-think where my training is going and what I would like to change.
First of all, let me say that nothing in Tim's presentation was new to me. With the exception of Tim's subtle ways of using angles and leverage, I had seen most of the techniques in past programs. There was a lot that took me back to wrestling techniques, knee strikes, basic chokes and focus-pad boxing strikes. These were done with the open palm, which Tim recommends for any strike to the hard head surface of an opponent on the street.
All these things are techniques I have practiced, the technical rise - returning to your feet safely MMA-style was the only really new addition and I had practiced that with Jake Burroughs a couple of weeks before.
So why did this cause me so much consternation that I would seek reflection and change?

Let's use another couple of big words to answer that: Cognitive Dissonance

Definition of COGNITIVE DISSONANCE
: psychological conflict resulting from incongruous beliefs and attitudes held simultaneously

Despite the fact that I've been in many, many real fights in the past - and know what that takes - I was falling into the traditional martial arts trap.
I was conflicted because I knew deep inside that half the stuff we teach in traditional martial arts will get the crap beat out of you on the street.
None-the-less, rosy-cheeked Tai Chi Chuan students begged to be taught two-person fighting sets, stuff that they thought would help them survive a home invasion or mugging at the ATM.
In teaching traditional arts, there is pattern, practice and method. Nearly all of us, especially if you have experienced multiple styles, see the building blocks that are supposed to stack together and eventually form an impenetrable castle.
So much of that is deeply flawed, yet we continue to teach it textbook fashion.
Tim's MMA for the street presentation was nothing new, but truthfully, a beginning student would get more out of that five hours than in five, maybe ten months of traditional training.

So here's my dilemma; traditional or practical?

I think I have a solution.
Our Monday-Wednesday club practice has always had sparring, self-defense and form work, all in a very non-structured way.
The grand experiment is with "The Barbarian Brothers". These guys are huge football player types that have an interest in MMA. They can easily pick my 200-pound ass up and toss me. But they know nothing about real technique. They come on Wednesdays from the mainland to practice with us and are very consistent. But when they first came, it was because another Tai Chi Chuan instructor brought them up to learn more advanced Tai Chi with us. We got stuck in the routine of introducing internal concepts to guys that have trouble with basic stances. Furthermore, they like to mix it up and follow MMA.
So we set another program for them. They come in and start with Tom, our boxing coach on basic western boxing drills. From there, Corey takes them for Small-Circle Jujitsu and related grappling and self-defense. But they still need the structure of form work so they can get familiar with their bodies, so I started them on the first of the short but effective Xingyi Five-Element Forms. They really need stance and root training.
This proved to be a well-rounded scenario, everybody participates and we get a great workout. I'm sure this program will grow and change with time and experience.

Now to the matter of My Thursday Tai Chi Chuan class.
This class is populated with a core group of people ten years older than me and the occasional young people. Seeking the balance is more difficult. Since these students all know the Yang Taiji form, I think I am going to dispense with it for a while. They need to work on basic defensive structure for when people push or grab them. They need to get out of the locked-in-your-stance immobile position and start doing some freestyle movement with a partner. Where is your defensive bubble? What angle do you choose? What gross motor skills are most effective in a simple confrontation?
Gone for now are the inner journey of internal adjustments. These oldsters will never really mix it up with anybody, they just need a little practical protection.

I'm sure other instructors have had to work through these issues, we'll see how it goes...

Friday, November 12, 2010

Mr. Pang's Bagua, 1974



This demonstration puts the "art" in "Martial Art".

Here, our local Tai Chi Chuan and Bagua master, T.Y. Pang runs through the eight stepping methods of Sun Xikun lineage Bagua. I studied with one of Mr. Pang's top students, Joel Chung, every Sunday for a year. The foundation of the style comes from Cheng Ting-Hua, a renowned wrestler in his day. Tim Cartmell has told us that in order to seek the applications of Bagua, especially Cheng lineage, is to imagine your body right next to the opponent's body. Within these stepping methods are grappling takedowns, sweeps, arm drags and close striking methods.
Seattle internal art instructor Andrew Dale stated in a 1991 issue of the "Pa Kua Chang Newsletter" that:

"Pang's Pa Kua was the most intricate he had ever seen."
"Seeing Pang do Pa Kua was like watching a powerful snake coiling, attacking, twisting, darting, spinning and turning."

I know for myself, that Tai Chi Chuan balances my yin and yang most effectively.
Xingyi raises my yang energy and is the most direct expression of power.
But Bagua provides the most stimulation and has the appeal of whole-body Yoga. This method articulates and opens every joint in the body and is the most physically expressive of all the internal martial arts I have practiced.

Combat brings necessary pain, Art necessarily brings pleasure...

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

XingyiMax: Xingyi to the Max

Xingyi Crossing Fist


We were at our Dojo last night discussing our training, and I had a revelation.
One style of martial art, or movement, informs others you may be studying.
There are only so many ways to move the human body, and similar martial arts have certain nuance's that allow for a greater understanding of the whole.

So it was with great interest that I found the website "XingyiMax". Despite being the most aggressive and powerful of the Chinese Internal Martial Arts, there is less information about this art, compared to Tai Chi Chuan for example.
XingyiMax is run by "Dennis", who lives in Malaysia and has studied martial arts in Australia, New Zealand, Malaysia and China. It's full of lengthy videos and historical information on the art and it's masters.

The video above is of Dennis' instructor demonstrating "Crossing Fist", one of the most misunderstood of the Five-Element forms. Look at his connection to the ground, the structure and power he is able to discharge. Great instruction on a difficult subject.

Xingyi (Hsing-i) has become an important study for me to round out my Yang-style Taiji and Bagua, and as I said, one art "informs" the other. The apparent simplicity of Xingyi belies the power and effectiveness of this art, and I am certainly addicted to it now!
If you study Chinese Martial Arts, XingyiMax will be a great resource. Check it out at THIS LINK.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Tim Cartmell On "Double Weighting"

Principles, Analysis and Applications of Effortless Combat Throws


Lately I've been reviewing information from seminars I attended with Tim Cartmell, author of the book above on "Effortless Combat Throws". The Chinese Internal Martial Arts have fewer high throws as in Judo, and lean more to the leg entanglement and knock-downs of Chinese wrestling. Here is what Tim has to say about "double-weighting", a practice warned against in the Tai Chi classics:
"It is clear that the masters of old considered double weighting to be a serious problem. double weighting is usually defined as the condition of standing with the weight evenly distributed between both feet (as in the classic "horse" stance).
This however, is not necessarily the case, Whether or not double weighting occurs is not determined directly by the relative distribution of weight between an individuals feet, but rather by whether or not one has joined centers with the opponent."

(D.R.)--Let me summarize an otherwise long and heavily detailed explanation of what Tim means; If you meet your opponent with force against his force, you have your weight and he has his weight and you are "double weighted".

Tim continues:
"Whether throwing, applying joint locks or striking, maximum efficiency depends upon the avoidance of double weighting. When setting up a throw, the most efficient technique is the one which allows you to join and subsequently control an opponents center in the shortest time, preferably immediately on contact."
(snip)
"Finally, it may be helpful to realize that there is really only one angle at which you are double weighted, and that is the angle at which your force clashes directly with the force of another. Applying force to an opponent at any other angle allows you to avoid the fault of double weighting."
(From appendix A-14, "Effortless Combat Throws")

(D.R.)-- Tim is a freakin' genius. Thank goodness I have hours of notes and video on his seminars, they go by so fast and are loaded with so much information that I really have to review to retain it all.
More on Combat throws in Bagua, Xingyi and Tai Chi Chuan coming soon...

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Chasing Another Dragon



Ha, ha...
To those who have written in before about this; the Dragon I am chasing does not come in the form of white powder...
It is, rather, a very difficult posture in our Xingyi system. Yesterday I trained with Jake Burroughs again in Seattle. This time we concentrated on the form and application of the Dragon and the Tiger. First, the Dragon:
As you can see above, it is an extremely low posture - much like "Snake Creeps down" in Yang Taiji. Except there is an extreme twist in the torso. The form rises up with a drilling fist, followed by a low stomping kick, returning to the mirror side low posture as you move across the room. My Xingyi brother Terry warned me about this form, saying it was a "doosey". My instructor Jake Burroughs joked (I think) that it was to weed out people who weren't dedicated to the system. This will either cure my stiffening 50-year-old knees and hips or destroy them forever. Fortunatly, there is no ballistic movement in Li Gui Chang's Xingyi, so it will train my strength, flexability and patience.
Attributes and application include Pi Chuan, metal "splitting fist", the stomping kick which is aimed at knee level, and an alternative leg-trapping take-down The energy of the Dragon is rising and falling, the form moves in a straight line.

Tiger Form

A seemingly simpler form in action, the Tiger has many structural principles that must be adhered to. It moves in a zig-zag pattern with powerful palm striking or push that has the power of the follow-step for deep penetration.
Versions of these forms have take downs, which typically entangle an opponents leg and off-balance him for "a knockdown" This is different than conventional Judo-type throws which tend to lift an opponent. As Xingyi was a battlefield art, a soldier could be facing a very large and heavily armored opponent, so tripping, sweeping and knockdowns were the preferred method of downing an opponent.
Attributes resemble a Tiger leaping on it's prey, energy is horizontal.
***********
Now is the stage of my training in this art where Jake is working with me on entries. These are particular to internal arts systems as opposed to the Karate sparring I did for so many years. The range is closer, Kicks low, pre-clinch to closing with take downs. We spent a fair amount of time reviewing something Jake and Tim Cartmell have demonstrated in past training sessions: finding the "dead angle". For any strike, push or take down to be achieved with the minimum effort, the physics of angles must be completely understood. The hallmark of Xingyi is that it seeks the smallest entry angle to exploit the opponent's "dead angle".
-We'll revisit this theme later.

If you are in the Seattle area and are interested in studying Chinese Martial Arts, You can contact Jake Burroughs at his Three Harmonies Martial Arts website and read his Blog "The Ground Never Misses".

Sunday, April 25, 2010

"Martial Shapes" Of Internal Arts



In this post, we'll take a look at a series of e-mails between myself and Christopher Dow, author of "The Wellspring, An Inquiry Into The Nature of Chi".
I tried to edit it for length and keep the key concepts intact:

Chris Dow: I want to say a little about a tai chi-related concept I’ve been thinking about lately. For the last few years, I’ve occasionally played with the movements in a free-form context, originally with a rooted stance but more recently also with moving steps. I guess it’s sort of like Chen style reeling silk exercises, but instead of tracing the tai chi diagram, I just mess around with the different ways that the leg thrusts and waist turns can launch the arms through the various tai chi applications. The more I’ve added the moving component, the more I’ve come to realize something that sort of links to what you’ve written about in relation to the more static martial arts (karate, tae kwon do, etc.) being somewhat limited and the more mobile ones (particularly the Chinese internal martial arts) less so. It’s also, perhaps, an ancillary to what I wrote in “The Wellspring” about the way chi is generated by the entire body in tai chi but only in a localized manner in the hard styles.
Techniques are embedded in all martial arts, certainly, but it seems to me that some marital arts engage the entire body in ways that transcend techniques isolated to specific areas of the body. And more importantly, they provide a natural flow from one technique or type of technique to another in ways that allow the techniques to be put together ad lib.
This line of thought has led me to the idea that a major difference between some types of martial arts and others is that some forms teach isolated techniques—or, perhaps, a series of techniques—while others encode a method of movement that contains techniques. Most (but not all) of the karate and taekwondo I’ve seen falls into the former category, and many (but not all) kung fu styles—especially tai chi—fall into the latter, though this isn’t to imply that technique-oriented arts aren’t effective or that movement-oriented arts always are.
When a person first comes to tai chi, he learns this posture and that posture and the way to get from the one to the other (which often is the most important aspect) in a sort of isolation, as with the technique-oriented arts. But the more the person practices, the more he gains a rhythm and flow from movement to movement. For me, it’s taken a long time to get from that to seeing the method of movement that has been masked by my overall concentration on performing the different movements and the tai chi set as a whole—and even by my concentration on technique. Now, I’ve begun to see the method that underlies not just the different movements, but the form itself, and it’s made me realize how powerful a teaching tool the form is and why it is so important to practice it daily. Only through repetition can the method of movement the form encodes become ingrained in the practitioner’s body. I’m thinking that this might be what makes tai chi such a powerful tool for self-improvement as well as self-defense.
Maybe I’m making too much of a simple idea, or maybe I’m wrong. Or maybe I’m just not making sense. But if I am, I’d like to hear your thoughts—and also the thoughts of others, as you did with the on-guard epistle—on how some forms encode a system of movement rather than simply imparting a series of techniques. And how could forms be thus categorized? To pick two internal Chinese styles: Bagua obviously is a movement-based style, but it seems to me that Hsing-I is a technique-based style. Again, the skill of the practitioner or the martial effectiveness of the art is not the question here. What I’m interested in is the fact that, with some martial arts, you can learn a series of movements that, at first, are disconnected elements but that eventually meld into a system of body dynamics that go beyond the particular elements or techniques of movement.

D.R. : I think I have mentioned it in writing before, but it might bear repeating. I think the internal arts appear to me now as shapes. That is, how does my shape fit the shape of my training partner (or attacker).
Some shapes flow naturally into patterns. But picking the correct shape so that patterns can be created is the tricky part. I think that's what the masters said about "listening with the skin", an innate feeling that allows for success.
- does this fit with where you are trying to go with your idea?

Chris Dow: Yes, I remember your post regarding the internal arts as shapes, and I thought, yes, that's pretty interesting. I visualized a sort of meshing with the opponent in a way that put him at a disadvantage and at the same time allowed one to use one's power appropriately. But I think of the internal art of Hsing-I, and while I can see the shapes, I don't see the same sort of flow of movement that I do in Tai Chi or Bagua. But then, I'm not terribly familiar with Hsing-I and have only seen practitioners doing repeated executions of particular movements. Maybe there's a form I'm not familiar with that embodies a true flow. Maybe you can clue me in. If there isn't, then, even though it's an internal art, it seems more like the various arts that train the practitioner through repetition of specific movements, such as standing in horse stance and doing a bunch of reverse punches that aren't connected to any other movement.
It seems to me that the internal arts, by and large, foster spontaneous movement and an almost psychic awareness (listening with the skin) of one’s surroundings that makes spontaneous, anticipatory movement possible. But I want to know more about your shapes concept. Over the past few days, I’ve been trying to visualize what that might mean, but I found myself getting stuck on “posture.” By this, I mean something akin to photographs in forms manuals that show, say, Single Whip or Cloud Hands or some other movement. I think my problem isn’t with your concept, per se, but with the word “shape,” which, to me, implies something static. I’m sure you really mean movement blending appropriately with movement and, thus, following the shape of the opponent.
I’ve also been pondering where or not the question I asked in my original e-mail is really valid. All movement arts—martial arts and dance—probably teach flow, not just technique. If I learn to rumba really well, then I will rumba through life. It’s just that Tai Chi and some others emphasize flow, where others emphasize technique. But now I look back at your quote above and think, well….

D.R. : When I think of "martial shape" I think of how an amoeba moves, or osmosis, flowing from an area of high concentration to an area of low concentration.
Water seeking it's own level.
A naturally occuring event that is not forced.
In TKD and Karate, we were "forcing" our "action" onto our opponent, even if we were just responding to movement.
If we try to use the martial shape definition above, then we are using the listening skill you and the classics describe.
Of course, it's easy to talk about and hard to perfect.
So I think we are perhaps describing the same event with different terminology. For some reason, the mind picture of "Shapes" is what is sticking with me.
When I have my crew doing fruit tree pruning in old orchards with hundred-year-old trees, I tell them they will start seeing "patterns" rather than cut-and-clip arrangement. Patterns. Shapes. Something that is innately perceived and felt.
Now, a true master of hard-style arts can achieve this, I have seen it. But it tends to come with power and eventually when the master's physical power is faded (hey, I'm 50), his skill is minimalized.
By the same example, some internal stylists have an unreal expectation of their progress or fighting ability.
With one foot in the hard-style camp, I have now chosen the internal method ( I started with Taiji in 1996, Tae Kwon Do in 1979). I find internal arts superior for longevity, but we gotta' keep it real.

Chris Dow: Okay, I understand your shapes concept better. The amoeba did it for me. I think you’re right, at least with regard to Tai Chi. I’ve seen enough Bagua and Hsing-I to identify them, but I don’t really know more than the basics about them—not enough to know if the shapes concept applies. I take your word for it, since you know them better. But regardless of which martial arts style you can apply it to—Tai Chi being one—“shapes” is the perfect word.
It is partly what I was talking about. I was originally interested in how Tai Chi—and presumably some other martial arts, but maybe not exclusively internal styles—teach a method of movement, while some just teach a series of techniques. The former lends itself to greater flexibility/diversity in movement—what you might call the ability to shape—over the latter. Where our two concepts meet, then, is that learning a method of movement, rather than just a series of techniques, confers greater ability in naturally executing shapes, which are the forte of superior martial styles, particularly the Chinese internal martial arts. Though, as you point out, you’ve got to work like hell to make your method of movement be a truly effective shape-shifter.
Before I go, back to the amoeba for a moment: If you trained two amoeba in Tai Chi and had them “push pseudopods,” would they eventually end up in a perfect Tai Chi sphere?


I know this ran a little long, even with editing. This has been a great discussion, if anyone else has some thoughts to add please help us continue in the comments section.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Why Do I Train In Ancient, Obscure Arts?



Like many martial artists, I occasionally chart my long path in training to consider where I have been and where I am going.
Despite many years of training in Tae Kwon Do and Kenpo, I have settled on the Chinese "Internal" arts of Tai Chi Chuan, Bagua And Xingyi. Many people are familiar with Taiji, but Bagua and Xingyi are virtually unheard of in many parts of our country. I have been very fortunate to have trained with skilled masters in these arts, they are few and far between.
So what is the attraction to these arts?
-Do they stand out as the most effective fighting arts I could be learning?
-Probably not. A beginning martial artist would need years in these type arts to fight effectively. But I am not a beginning martial artist, I've got a good thirty years of training in various arts "under my belt".
-Is it for the benefit of gaining "Rank"?
-Certainly not. I already had a second Dan Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do and a third while in Kenpo. My friends that stayed in TKD are all now fifth Dan or higher ranked. I never cared about that crap anyway. Furthermore, I don't know a single internal art school in my area that actually has a ranking system. It just doesn't apply to internal schools the way it does in the McDojo.
-Does learning a Sword form help in daily self-defense considerations?
-Hell no. Nobody fights with swords anymore. But there must be some other appeal...
********
So what is it that attracts me to these "arts"?
-"Art" is the key word here. As I have written countless times, Combat brings necessary pain, "Art" necessarily brings pleasure. Learning these arts brings a satisfying sense of self-improvement at a deep, introspective level. For instance, In Tai Chi Chuan, the slow precise movement allows one to feel every part of the body, the alignment, the balance, the intent.
-Memo to self: I am over fifty years-old now. Transitioning into the internal arts is a natural path for older, experienced martial artists. Look, us old farts don't heal as fast as we used to, so there is less time spent sparring and more time spent in meditative, healthy martial movement.
-Learning ancient, beautiful flowing arts is like memorizing a great line of poetry. It's not the primal scream of a youthful punk-rock band. It's more like the flavor of aged cheese and fine wine on a sunny afternoon. Even if it's raining...
-And lastly, If we train in these type of arts we continue a long line of study, steeped in antiquity with the knowledge of thousands upon thousands of warrior spirits guiding us. The Chinese arts, in particular mimic elements of nature ("wave hands like clouds") and various animal forms. As we study deep introspective body movement we become more aware of the natural world around us. We listen to the animals, feel the air, change with the seasons.
And as we become more aware of the natural world, we feel more at ease with who we are as individuals, and where we fit in the universe around us...

Friday, March 12, 2010

Exploring "Shen Fa"; Body Method



Last weekend when I was at a Tai Chi Chuan seminar My instructor took interest in a movement I was doing. The class was practicing "roll back" and "press" from the Yang form. The instructor stood at my left flank and asked that we perform the move at the same time so the class could see how we moved differently. I could not see his exact movement (he was to my left and slightly behind me), so I asked a classmate to explain the difference. My instructor did press in a "long energy" way, with his body pushing the arms as if to project an opponent backward. I was doing press by unfolding my body from the roll-back position in a wave-like fashion, sharply ending in the press like snapping a wet towel or whip. Both were functional in their application, with my method being more "short energy" for penetration rather than projection.
This got me thinking about "Shen Fa" or "body method", and how things I am learning in Bagua and Xingyi are subtly changing my Tai Chi Chuan.
Shen Fa is what makes "internal martial arts" internal. If you imagine a Karate practitioner moving through down blocks and straight punches, you understand how they are powerful but tend to use muscle tension in the limbs and the body and spine remain erect.

Now compare that to this video of Xingyi, most movements clearly using "body method":

Currently on "The Rum Soaked Fist" forum, there is a great three-page discussion on the use of "Shen Fa". In one comment, Kenneth Fish sums up the issue:

"--most of the Xingyi that is public is lacking this - frequently the body, although solid, is like a brick - none of the various wave/rolling/stretching/compressing etc that should be driving and following all movements."

And that is the hallmark of the internal arts; wave/rolling/compressing/stretching.
Take a look at the exercises this practitioner is using to develop "Shen Fa":

One of the next lessons I will have with my Xingyi instructor will be to learn a "Neigong" (internal method) set called "Tuna Si Ba". I have yet to see how the set works, but it takes two hours to begin learning, and 30-40 minutes to practice once learned. I'm starting to believe that my toolbag of fighting forms is looking pretty good, but Neigong internal method may be the most important aspect for me to pursue at my current level of training. I have to say I am fascinated by this. To be clear, "Nei Gong" is internal body work, "Chi Gong" refers more to "breath method" (which I have also studied).
The first part of this next video is of Bagua master Park Bok Nam demonstrating the "Dragon Back" exercise from his Bagua system. This may be the most graphic example of internal body method, with the segmented whipping of the spine in the palm strike. As you can see, the motion is shortened in the stepping strike, but still evident. For the purpose of this article, the first few minutes of this video are the only relevant parts:

Note the coiling/compressing/releasing of this method. This is what really makes the internal arts internal. You see the entire body is involved in the strike, bringing the energy from the root, through the spine, and the power is manifested at the palm.
I love this stuff.
For more information and discussion, check out this thread at "The Rum Soaked Fist".

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Interview With Jess O'Brien, Author Of "Nei Jia Quan"



What would it be like to meet and train with dozens of the top experts in the Chinese Internal Martial Arts? Can you imagine the vast knowledge, the combined years of wisdom and experiance these teachers could transmit to you?
Well, that's exactly what author Jess O'Brien did as he compiled interviews with master instructors of Tai Chi Chuan, Bagua, Xingyi and other related arts.
I've wanted to get my hands on this book for some time now, and I've dog-eared page after page with insights and instruction for future review.
O'Brien visited scores of instructors and whittled his compilation down to 16 interviews that are solid gold for students of the Chinese Martial Arts.
This book is not a "how-to" of technique and application, it is a collection of deep thought and personal experiances of some of the best martial artists of our time. As Chinese Internal Martial Arts are unique, this is a book of self-exploration.
Jess O'Brien was kind enough to describe his journey in writing "Nei Jia Quan", here's a few questions I asked him:

(D.R.): How did you choose the master instructors that you interviewed?
(J.O.): My boss said I could publish anything I wanted. So after I thought about it for a while, I started making a list of everyone I'd ever heard of that would be cool to talk to and train with. I think I had close to 200 names. After that it was a matter of luck and timing as I was on the lookout for visitors to the Bay Area as well as on my own travels. Unfortunately I wasn't able to go to Asia, so it was only people here in the states that I was able to access. Luck was with me and many good teachers either came through or were teaching here. So the book developed quite randomly. I wish I could have done it more systematically with a budget for time and travel, but that was impossible. I did about one interview a month for two years and picked from the best of them. I hope other people will interview their teachers and publish them, because this was just a tiny drop in a huge bucket.
What was really amazing was how open these teachers were to speaking with me. Most interviews were done after a day seminar or class, and often on my first meeting with the person. I was expecting to be turned down often, but virtually all of the teachers in the book were willing to go out of their way to speak with me. Furthermore they all answered honestly and with depth, never did anyone deny any of my questions, even about their own teachers! A number of times their students said to me that they were surprised at how much was said at the interview, as Chinese martial arts teachers are fairly conservative about what they say. Normally they only tell the student what would actually be useful during that stage of their practice. Since I was an outsider they could expound more deeply on the topics I mentioned, not speaking to me as an individual but to the public at large through me.
Many of the discussions I had in the book didn't make much sense to me at the time, but have gradually become more clear as I've trained more. Various things pop out at me and I go, wow why didn't I pick up on this before? Which is cool, I'm as much a reader of the book as anyone else, all I did was copy down what the teachers said, without trying to interpret it beyond editing for clarity.
My intention for the book was to follow on the footsteps of great writing like Pa Kua Chang Journal, RW Smith's books, BK Frantzis's books, and all the others out there that kept inspiring me whenever I got bored in training. Not focusing on the mystique and uniforms, but on the people, the history and the day to day training. PKCJ was especially a ground breaker. Dan didn't use the word master or grandmaster, only people's names, and that made a lot of sense to me. We are past the era of inflated expectations and mystical flying combat nonsense. Chinese martial arts offer very pragmatic and utilitarian training concepts, whether on a physical, mental or energetic level. That's plenty, we don't need to use the word "devastating" any more. We can speak of effective and useful, we don't need to carry the weight of being secret and deadly, that just leads to fear and frustration.
Part of the mystique of Chinese martial arts is this image of a wise, unapproachable master who sits above the crowd. I found the opposite to be true, all of the teachers I spoke with were gracious and friendly and open to questions. They didn't feel threatened at all by my questions. I hope readers of the book will seek them out. They were normal people who had trained to an extraordinary degree. They all emphasized cultivation and hard work, not short cuts or fantasies. However, each had a somewhat different take on the path. Some liked combat sports, some focused on chi, some were TCM oriented, some were fascinated by the intricacies of physical mechanics. Some were oriented toward mindfulness and awareness, some loved to fight in the street, and others gave me very cool lessons in history and culture. Chinese martial arts has all of these things and much more within it. I set out trying to find out how to define internal martial arts, but in the end the definition is much wider than any one person can ever uncover, in my opinion.

(D.R.): There is a wide variety of opinions from the Masters about the cultivation and use of Chi in the Internal Martial Arts. After meeting these Masters, have you formulated your personal thoughts on Chi?
(J.O.): I remain open to all ideas on Chi. Whether it is a substance, or a metaphor, whether it is at the core of IMA, or irrelevant. In Religious Studies we speak of simultanous truths. For Islam to be right doesn't mean Taoism is wrong. A Native American who believes in the Creator doesn't negate a Buddhist who doesn't believe in God. Both are right. I apply this thinking to martial arts as well. Our idea of what works and doesn't, our framework of how we construct our training and interactions contain multitudes of unspoken assumptions. That's how humans work, and trying to scientifically define everything and put it all in its correct place is somewhat futile on a grand scale. We can only pick our favorite worldview and work from it, while keeping an open mind. If it gets results, it works. What you want as a result may be radically different from someone else, however. So for me it's a constant process of allowing new insights to arise and keeping the ones I like.
If I learn a technique that doesn't use Chi, then that's how I practice it. If someone else teaches me something energy based, I follow those instructions to the best of my ability. It all doesn't have to fit together neatly in some unifiied theory of everything. I'm not smart enough to put it all togther. That's why I created this book, I couldn't define Internal Martial Arts, so I asked all these other folks to do it. When you look at the mosaic that their answers form, you can find things that you agree with and things that you don't. But all the teachers in the book are or were effective fighters, so that in itself is a lesson for me. Different paradigms can achieve great results.
All these different paths are to suit different personalities and inclinations, not because one way is better than the others. And I think that goes all the way back to historical Chinese martial arts. There have always been the mystics, the nerds, the soldiers, the bodyguards, the sport fighters, the calligraphers, the farmers, etc. Each one needs a martial art to suit them, and no one art will ever give everyone what they need. Different things inspire different people.

(D.R.): Has the openness of the West truely expanded the knowledge base of Internal Arts, or has something been lost from the age-old traditions and training methods?
And; given the popularity of MMA and grappling training, is there a strong future for the Chinese Internal Martial Arts in America?

(J.O.): Martial arts in the west is certainly an interesting situation. I think the initial appeal of Asian martial arts made a big splash here. It's something we didn't have, the culture of discipleship where a master helps a student forge himself. That's very cool and outside of sport it was hard to find such a situation here. It's part of human nature I think to want to experience such a mentorship. These Asian martial arts had new fighting methods as well, new ways of sparring and competing. They also had ideas about meditation, healing, and developing and training the body in new ways. The emphasis on self-cultivation rather than winning sport matches was also something new that appealed to many of us who were burnt on competitive sports. The focus on longevity and training for life was another new concept in the USA where we watch sports and don't participate as much. So Asian martial arts brought many cool things to the west that we've really come to enjoy. And I think the west is now influencing Asian martial arts with our emphasis on effectiveness in NHB and sport fighting in general. So it's come full circle in that regard. However new circles are being created as our medical and psychological world has become fascinated with the mindfulness and mind training that all Asian arts use as a base, including martial arts.
Working on this book really brought home to me how martial art and sport are two different worlds. As I've ranted on RSF and other message boards for years, they are simply different fruits, you don't get much out of comparing them. For instance, playing the flute and playing football both take time and effort and dedication. But flute is in the ear of the beholder, and football has stats that show who is better or not, clear cut, no BS. Art will always have this undefineable quality, for the creator and for the observer. Sport is great because it has rules and measures to determine quality. If you win the Superbowl, you are the best. If you sell a lot of albums, people may still hate your flute playing. There is no standard that applies across the board.
Many people are frustrated by this, and want to define martial arts in one way or another. Say, if it isn't good in the ring, toss it out and modernize it. However, you risk losing the baby with the bath water. The practices you toss out now, may have benefitted you in some other way down the road. Asian martial arts have many sides to them, sport fighting is one of them. But training the mind is another. Training your nervous system, training your knowledge of yourself, training your ability to heal, to survive. Not all of these things help you in a fight right this minute, but they could save your life in another context.
Nobody does forward rolls in the UFC, yet they've saved lives on the street in accidents. That's just one example. I have learned that martial arts are their own thing, and are not equivalent to sports. I think the term MMA is unfortunate, NHB is much better. Because martial arts is something my grandma or my son could do, and benefit from. NHB, probably not as much, it's emphasis on sport is a world of its own. To excell in sport requires tremendous dedication, resolve and unyeilding desire to win. A good sportsman has a huge high standard to reach if he wants to win a professional match. Whereas martial arts can be forms, meditation, healing or a million different things. It may annoy some people, but martial arts is not just what you want it to be, it is relevant to others in ways that it's not relevant to you.
Of course, martial arts and martial sports cross over. They both fight. And there is much to learn from a good fighter,no matter where he learned it. So this could be a golden age for Chinese martial arts. There are so many great sport fighters out there, we can all safely test ourselves in ways that the previous generation never could. We can win and lose against great practitioners, who are game to fight. Fighting under their rules may be frustrating, but it only makes you better in the long run. Gloves, ropes, pads, points, etc, all these things will limit your technique and help you refine what you have to a huge degree. Chinese martial artists who don't spar widely in this day and age are missing out on tremendous opportunities for growth.
That said, sport is only one aspect of Chinese martial arts. Sparring is a tool, but only one among many. Medicine, meditation are also tools. Forms and conditioning are others. These martial arts have much to teach, if you find the teacher and system that suits you. Some people want to define CMA as one thing or another, but again, from all the interviews I did, I'd never presume to speak for a tradition so vast and deep. There is much we in the West don't know about Chinese martial arts, so the time is premature for anything but hypothesis. A hundred years from now we will know more, and our understanding of it will be refined. Who knows what it will end up being at that point.
On the topic of fighting, one thing I noticed in the people I met was that the oldest guys who had fought in wars and seen people killed in battle and in gang fights all disliked sparring. To them it was like ping pong, a waste of time when training your body and mind is more important. I take their advice quite seriously. However, as a suburban dude from modern Northern California, I've never been in a fight in my life. So I must use sparring as a tool to learn about courage, how to take a punch, how to attack someone who is defending strongly. I've never had to fight for real, so I use play fighting as a way to get something of that adrenaline surge. However, being realistic, the people who I met that did fight for high stakes told me that there is utterly no comparison between a sport fight and a fight where your life is in danger. I'll take their word for it, and if I'm lucky I'll never have to find out if they are right about that.

My last word is to reiterate that Chinese martial arts are in their infancy here in the West. From hints I got in my interviews, there is much underlying these arts that we haven't yet been exposed to or understand. We may well reject these cultural underpinings or change them to suit us as westerners. But before we do that we will need decades of travel, translation, investigation and testing to begin to comprehend the depth of the well that these arts are drawn from. Chinese martial arts are a product of Chinese culture, and the way they look at these arts is not the same as how most of us do. There is vast diversity in the way they are trained and understood, so again, I feel that we need to continue to take them at face value and train them as directed. Over the next few decades many new insights will come to light and we'll have a much clearer idea of the whole tapestry that makes up Chinese martial arts, rather than the incomplete threads we've seen so far. Of course I could be wrong about this too, but I'd rather be conservative and work slowly than presume too much and miss the boat on some of the amazing aspects of this stuff that may not be apparent in the short term. There's a lot of good stuff in these arts, so it's an art I'll always be learning more from.

Thanks so much to Jess O'Brien,

You can find "Nei Jia Quan" and hundreds of other martial arts titles at the website for BLUE SNAKE BOOKS

Monday, July 27, 2009

Xing Yi Five Element Forms



Ack!
My Xingyi instructor, Jake Burroughs will probably claw his own eyes out after he sees this, but here it is.
While I've been practicing Tai Chi Chuan since 1996 and Bagua off-and-on since then, Xingyi is pretty new to me. In Tae Kwon Do, we had about 16 forms. Threw them all out. Same for Kenpo, all gone. Don't need them, and my instructors couldn't explain some of the arcane postures and movements within the forms.
What I am realizing about the Chinese Internal Arts is that unlike hard styles, Internal forms are more about shapes. Shapes that either exhibit or neutralize power, sometimes both.
Taiji and Bagua movement is intensely complex. At some point, I realized that I needed to start learning Xingyi to complete the trinity of the Chinese Internal arts.
Xingyi looks simple, but it's not as easy as it looks. There are tons of internal alignments to be aware of, and if done correctly can produce tremendous power.
In the short time I have been studing this art, it has helped me understand my Taiji and Bagua much better. Also, I've found myself successfully using the Xingyi hand methods in sparring with my training partners. Jake has said you could just study these five forms for life and develop into a very capeable fighter.
Another thing I find interesting is the relation to Chinese philosophy these forms contain: Pi/splitting fist (metal), Beng/smashing fist (wood), Zuan/drilling fist (water), Heng/crossing fist (earth), and Pao/pounding fist (fire). They naturally relate to the cycle of creation/destruction, and corresponding organs and meridians.
I have a long way to go in this study, but I feel I am beginning to internalize the yin and yang interchange of Taiji, the spiral energy of Bagua, and now the linear power of Xingyi.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

The Continuing Education Of The Dojo Rats


San Ti Posture

As if we didn't have enough on our plate...
Sometimes you say "oooh, that looks good. I'll have five scoops"!
In reality, you could only handle three scoops.
***********
Across the board, the guys in our little Dojo have been past hard Karate stylists. Backgrounds include Tae Kwon Do, Kenpo, Kajukenbo, Jujitsu, Goju-Shorei and a little Boxing, Judo and Aikido thrown in.
About 1996 or so, some of us started practicing Tai Chi Chuan with one of our instructors, closely followed with an intro to Bagua. As time marched on, several of us sought out further instruction in those "internal" arts, resulting in our long-time friendship with Tai Chi Chuan instructor Michael Gilman, and our new friendship with instructors Jake Burroughs, Mike Martello and Tim Cartmell.
Something was lacking in our old hard-style arts: perhaps it was the health aspects and the Mystique of Chi Gong and Acupressure meridian theory. Or possibly the meditative side of the internal arts, or the use of "whole body power". Internal arts hooked us, and I haven't seen anybody practice a hard-style form for years.
Which brings us to the five big scoops I tried to put on our plate.
I have felt for a while that if I was going to have a more complete understanding of the Chinese Internal arts, I needed to explore Xingyi. I had one Xingyi linking form that had been taught to me by a Karate instructor. That form, "Walk the Tiger", came from a Wado-Ryu teacher in Taiwan named Watanabe. It's lineage is of unknown origin, and the guy who taught me years ago could not provide much information about it.
"The thing I need to do", think'eth The Rat, "is learn the basic Five-Element forms", which are the basis for nearly every Xingyi system. So I grabbed Zac, our youngest Black Belt and we cruised down to Seattle to visit Jake Burroughs for what became a four-hour class. Now, while these forms are very linear in appearance and are straight-foward and direct, I was decieved by their inherent complexity (Que Jake Burroughs Cheshire Cat smile). Five Elements, Five scoops on the plate. No problem. Whoah... I think I'm getting kinda full here.
Jake patiently walked us through the first three forms: Pi Chuan (splitting fist, metal), Beng Chuan (crushing fist, wood) and Zhuan Chuan (Drilling fist, water). Normally, you could spend weeks just training in one of those forms, with the subtleties and wide range of applications. At three forms, we were pretty much maxed out, and we still will need much correction and application instruction. But, the exploration of these forms does indeed help me to view the complexity of internal arts, even those with outwardly simple postures - and that's exactly what I was looking for.
It's going to take repeated visits to train with Jake to gain deeper understanding of Xingyi, an art that looks simple but is so, so much more. If we can get a handle on this art, we will have the linear, whole-body striking of Xingyi, the spiral movement and grappling of Bagua, and the softness of Tai Chi Chuan which incorporates all these qualities.
So for now, I'm going to have to put those other two scoops, the "pounding fist" and the "crossing fist" back on Jake Burroughs' generous serving plate. They'll be there when we're ready, after we work on the first three.
If you would like to see information on Xingyi and the other martial arts Jake Burroughs teaches, take a look here at the website for "Three Harmonies Martial Arts Center".