The Mythos of Kata

A student once asked me if it was possible to learn karate without learning the pre-arranged forms (kata). Of course it's possible. But this notion of "knowing karate" without kata is taken as an affront to a tradition and culture that is foreign to many of us. But let me ask you this: do you think memorizing an entire catalogue of block-and-strike sequences will allow you to prevail in a fight? And how many forms are there in your karate syllabus? In Isshinryu there are a total of eight karate (empty handed) kata, but some styles contain dozens! Why so many? Conversely, Chojun Miyagi, the famous founder of Goju-ryu karate, would exhort his students to train on just a single (!) form for years before being considered for advancement. Entire books have been written on the Sanchin kata, an ancient form of Chinese origin that emphasizes isometric muscle contractions and constricted breathing techniques used to refine ki (chi or qi).

A high ranking Isshinryu instructor once described a training session he once had many years ago with Grand Master Seikichi Odo of Okinawa Kenpo karate. A veritable "collector of kata", Odo-sensei was described as having a petite build, barely over five feet tall, but possessed an innate kind of strength that was indescribable. In karate, chinkuchi refers to a type of focused energy that is the stuff of legends. In reality, developing this kind of mystical super human strength is probably the by-product of decades of training and performing certain moves tens of thousands of times.

I put the word mythos in this blog title to be a bit provocative. It's just a recurring theme in culture or tradition that may or may not be true. But is it a myth that kata will translate into being a competent fighter? 

Consider this tale:

Kuwada had begun martial arts training with the desire of becoming feared by all men. But he soon discovered there was no short-cut to his transformation into a master.

Discouraged by the incessant kata training, Kuwada asked his sensei, "When are we going to learn something else? I've been here for quite some time, and it's kata, kata, kata, everyday."

When the sensei gave no reply, Kuwada went to the assistant to the master and made the same inquiry. He was told, "The kata training is to polish your mind. It is better to shave your mind than your head. Understand?"

Kuwada did not understand, and in protest, he left the dojo, embarking on a notorious career as the best street fighter in Shuri. He was tough. No doubt about it. "A fight a night" was Kuwada's motto, and he often bragged, "I'm not afraid of a living man."

One night, Kuwada eyed a stranger walking calmly alongside a stone wall. It irritated Kuwada to see such composure in a person. He ran to the cross section of the road and waited for the man to pass.

When he did, Kuwada jumped out and threw a punch, but the man avoided the blow and grabbed Kuwada's arm. As he pulled Kuwada toward him, the man calmly stared into his eyes. Kuwada tried to pull away, but he could not. For the first time in his life, Kuwada felt a strange emotion—fear of defeat.   

When the man let him go, Kuwada ran, but he glared back to see the man calmly walk away as if nothing had happened. Kuwada later discovered the man was a master of kata; a martial artist who had never engaged in a fight in his life.*

 The summation of the story, "He who conquers himself is the greatest warrior" is banal. Tales like this are meant to be inspiring, but they're misleading. If you've never engaged in a fight, you'll never be prepared for the real thing by being a "master of kata". As Okinawan street fighting pioneer Choki Motobu (d. 1944) advised,“Nothing is more harmful to the world than a martial art that is not effective in actual self-defense.”

 

*Richard Kim 1974. The Weaponless Warriors. Ohara Publications, Inc.

Spinal Health, Meditation, and Aging Gracefully

Recently an attorney admonished a high profile political figure for not having the "courage and spine" to commit to what could be construed as a treasonous act. This is relevant, as being upright is considered moralistic, a hallmark of martial arts philosophy. Notwithstanding the clever use of metaphors, having a strong spine is essential for overall physical health. I found this out at my job about two months ago when I attempted to lift a modestly heavy container onto a hand truck causing excruciating pain in my back. An MRI has revealed two herniated discs causing nerve impingements that make work (for now) impossible. In the meantime, a pair of steroid epidurals has eased some of my pain, hopefully with lasting results.

In a previous post I've talked about my earlier diagnosis with scoliosis (spine curvature) in a positive way; how the spinal rotation in my back may have actually aided my efforts to perform spin-kicks. When I tell other practitioners this, I'm usually met with incredulity. They think I'm nuts. I'm just trying to look on the bright side. It's a coping mechanism. But as I enter my 62nd year on this realm, making lemonade out of lemons is becoming trickier. I have scoliosis, herniated discs, and an arthritic spine, something I don't relish as I approach my retirement years. Forrest Morgan, author of Living the Martial Way, divulged in an interview that degenerative arthritis is the reason for his cessation in martial arts training, though he still enjoys low-impact cardio and weight training for fitness. I'm currently doing neither.

When I told a fellow karate-ka about my blown out discs, he said to me, in all sincerity, it likely occurred because when I meditate I may be concentrating too hard on my hara. The hara (or dantian), considered the seat of power (ki) in Japanese martial arts and the site of the third chakra in Indian mysticism, roughly corresponds to the physical location of the lumbar spine injury that is wreaking havoc on my ability to go to work or basically do anything else.

Who knows, maybe I am meditating the wrong way. Is that even possible? When Western medicine first encountered meditation in the early twentieth century it was posited that seizures, psychosis, and even death could occur to the overly eager neophyte navel-gazer. I have no plans to give up my regimen of meditation, however, my future is uncertain. One euphemism for karate is "self-defense"; I need to take care of myself. We all do. I have bills to pay, but I need to tend to my health, and I find myself at a crossroads. I'm not even sure what that means for me. Time will tell. I'll have to pick some destination, no matter how uncertain it may be right now. As Yogi Berra once offered, "When you get to the fork in the road, take it."

Won't Get Fooled Again

I like a good laugh just like the next person, and for the last few years I've been running a gag blog post every April Fools' Day. In a weird twist of fate (and a bit to my chagrin) a few of my most popular posts are the ones tagged 'humor' and I don't think people are looking for laughs. My blog is subtitled Martial Arts, Philosophy and The Art of Living but most people aren't putting that into their search engines. Viewers want to know how to register their hands as deadly weapons, where they can learn Iron Crotch Kung Fu, and have info on some guy from Italy who holds black belts in 22 styles. You get the idea. Not really humor, but extreme and even bizarre stuff is what often piques people's interest in the martial arts. 'Body hardening workouts' and 'How to karate chop bricks' as search phrases find their way to my blog more often than inquiries into the loftier aims of martial arts, such as character, spirit, or even self-defense.

This site actually started life as part of a monthly newsletter for students at a karate school I used to train and teach at nearly twenty years ago. When the school closed I found another, but my days of writing a column were gone, so my wife suggested starting a blog to export my articles to. At the time I had a couple of dozen, and I wanted to keep future material philosophical in nature; writing posts on the traditions and history of combat systems, including references to authors that were experts in Japanese Martial Arts, such as Donn Draeger and Black Belt magazine contributor Dave Lowry.  After about a year of blogging, I acquired a modest online following.

To expand my newfound readership and to keep things interesting I began to lighten things up with the Top Ten Most Annoying Things in the Martial Arts and The Way of Spock. Later I uploaded videos from Enter The Dojo, a comedic web series starring Master Ken, a delusional instructor who hawks his self-proclaimed street lethal fighting system. In time I began to revise my humor into reservations I had for arts like The Drunken Style and dubious claims such as the ability to knock people out without touching them.

Several years ago I found and posted a video that featured someone performing so-called ki enhanced throws and takedowns on his students that looked suspicious, to put it mildly. The demonstrator came from a martial art I was familiar with. I had previously attended a one-day workshop in this style given by an active member of the NYPD that showcased brutally effective techniques, minus any of the woo nonsense in the video, and I mentioned that in my article. My point was that the video I put up was a grossly inaccurate and unfair representation of an otherwise legit style that was being peddled by a conman. Soon, my article in its entirety ended up on a very popular martial arts forum (with a link back to my blog) where many of the commenters were actually sympathetic to the "master" in the clip. Some of them claimed to have trained under him.

The comment section on this forum became a train wreck of believers versus realists. Rage ensued on both sides. The critical thinkers there had my back, but soon I began to receive threatening emails from wack jobs, including the chief instructor of a school. Somebody else derided my style (as if that mattered), and another promised God would retaliate for my flagrant disrespect. No, I argued, you cannot drop five people simultaneously with the flick of the wrist. Apparently I was the bad guy for pointing this out. It amazes me how certain "martial artists" don't like to have their fantasy bubbles burst.

The clip below features a similar demo with a different guy from the one I originally posted, now long removed by the owner. If you've never seen this before, brace yourself for a display in breathtaking stupidity:


Bear in mind that this is intended to be taken at face value. It's ridiculous, of course, so most of us can't help but laugh at this. Humor can be a way to cope with inanity, but in the form of satire (e.g., Master Ken) can be an antidote for credulity. I see it as providing a public service. So today if you can, goof on someone to enlighten them —  but do so with the best intentions. Happy April Fools' Day!

Strike First!

The title of this post comes from part of the motto of the Cobra Kai school from The Karate Kid movie. Cobra Kai is now a series on YouTube.* Yes, after 34 years, Daniel-san and bad guy Johnny ("Sweep The Leg") are back! These guys are in their fifties now, and they're still at it. Fifty is the new thirty-five. I'm pretty sure Johnny is still hawking "Strike First, Strike Hard, No Mercy" at his new Cobra Kai school. This idea is diametrically opposed, deliberately I assume, to one of the most fundamental tenets found in karate, among other styles. But the Cobra Kai "Strike First" stance takes no prisoners. "Strike Hard" is a no-brainer, I suppose. "Mercy is for the weak" is dysfunctional; roles can be reversed. What goes around, comes around.

In 1938, Gichin Funakoshi put forth 20 precepts for karate students to train and live by. His Twenty Guiding Principles of Karate contains the famous excerpt karate ni sente nashi, or "There is no first strike in karate." This basically implies that you don't provoke a fight; it does not mean that in the midst of what looks like a potential altercation — after all other options have failed — you wait to get laid out on the sidewalk. Deescalation isn't always available. Unprovoked attacks and sucker punches happen. If you're lucky enough to factor in time and distance, then reading intent or energy (shin or ki) is possible.

In traditional karate, there are two basic strategies in dealing with an aggressor:

• Go no sen. This means "after the attack." A basic example would be an aggressor steps in with a punch, you block and counter with a strike.
• Sen no sen. This is "before the attack." An aggressor announces he wants to kill you, and without hesitation you strike. This is like the old military aphorism "The best defense is a good offense."

It's easy to see how both of these concepts can be misconstrued. Waiting for an attack with the sole purpose for a counter and strike is a recipe for disaster. And the legal ramifications of kicking someone in the head because he flips you off should be obvious.

These concepts are not exclusive to karate, and there are more no sen principles in other arts, such as Kendo and Aikido. These strategies go into much greater depth than I describe. For a deeper study into these principles dealing with situational assessment in actual combat, check out The Book of Five Rings by the Japanese swordsman Miyamoto Musashi (c. 1645).


* This is only on YouTube's new "premium" channel. So yes, that means it ain't free. It's either a monthly rate, or pay-per-view.

Glenn Morris: Profile Of A Ninja

Recently I received a copy of Shadow Strategies of an American Ninja Master by Glenn Morris (1996). Morris wrote a trilogy of these ninja books and I've previously reviewed one of them. (This post is not a new review, but an overview of the rather eccentric and controversial author who passed on in 2006.) All three works, which were written during the 90s, discuss the esoterica, history, and psychology of martial arts in general as Morris had an eclectic background. He held rank in Bujinkan Ninpo (a ninja ryu) and something called Nihon Karate Jujutsu, among others. Morris was a fan of mysticism and Jungian psychology. Testimonials from people he trained with credit him with mind-reading and the ability to generate ki (chi, qi) to greatly enhance self-defense techniques.

I realize that Morris' now-dated writing emerged in the aftermath of best selling books in the 70s and 80s by the likes of Fritjof Capra and Gary Zukav, who attempted to fuse hard science and mysticism. If Morris' books were published now there is little chance they would survive the scrutiny of a readership that is the predominantly info savvy critical-thinking crew who frequently visits Bullshido, an online forum debunking spurious claims made in martial arts. Without a doubt, Morris was out there in his views, but to his credit he was no Ashida Kim. Still, his combination of academic achievements and time spent teaching leadership courses and martial arts at colleges and abroad lend to a worldview and writing style that is unique and entertaining.

In his writings Morris laments that ninpo (ninja ways) have been misrepresented in the West, courtesy in part of a string of bad movies depicting ninja as crazed gymnasts (my personal favorite) and resulting in every huckster martial arts wannabe jumping on the ninja bandwagon. Following the ninja craze of the early 80s, comic book ad sales hawking shuriken (throwing stars) and ninja garb went through the roof. Suddenly, ninja masters appeared out of nowhere selling their wares.

(Click on image to expand)

Throughout his trio of works, Morris recounts his travels to Japan to train with the grandmaster of the Bujinkan, Masaaki Hatsumi (who for whatever reason occasionally dyes his hair purple), contacting colleagues via dreams, communicating with kami (spirits), and enduring the awakening of kundalini, the serpent energy that lies dormant at the base of the spine that when activated engenders superhuman strength and a sense of cosmic unity. The kundalini process is brought about by meditation, qigong, and specialized breathing practices associated with certain martial arts.

Before this is all dismissed as woo — let's not throw the baby out with the bath water — Morris does impart some conventional wisdom regarding the martial arts and the art of living. To paraphrase:

• Finding a qualified teacher in a true bugei (non-sportive combat art) will likely be a daunting but worthwhile undertaking.
• Take care of your body and mind with a meditation practice, exercise and healthy diet.
• To get ahead in life use your brain to acquire an academic degree or skill. The alternative is not pretty.
• Be kind to everyone you meet. Karma.
• The way is in the training. Keep going. Keep playing.

Blindsided

Here's a clip of Joe Rogan talking with biologist Rupert Sheldrake about threat awareness in the martial arts. Rogan lamented the ineffectiveness of certain "self-defense martial arts", quoted Musashi, and extolled the virtues of expanding human potential resulting from a lifetime pursuit in the martial arts. But he largely sidestepped Sheldrake's important question of whether someone could be trained to develop an intuitive sensitivity to threatening intent. Although not a practitioner, Sheldrake delves briefly into the aspect of threatening intent in his book The Sense of Being Stared At from the martial arts perspective. The following involves an investigation of a so-called ancient technique called to-ate — attacking someone without physical contact from a distance:

In order to rule out the possibility that the person attacked was responding to visual or other sensory clues, or to suggestion, the researchers kept an "attacker" and a "receiver" in sensory-shielded rooms, three floors apart. The "attacker" was a Chinese qigong master. They videotaped the receiver, and measured his skin resistance and his brain waves, by means of an electroencephalograph (EEG). In a series of trails, the qigong master directed to-ate at the receiver at times randomly chosen by the experimenters. In many of these trail periods the receiver visibly recorded and showed alterations in EEG and skin resistance. The results of these randomized, double-blind trails were highly significant statistically, indicating that the to-ate involved an "unknown transmission"; that is to say, a form of transmission currently unknown to science. From the point of view of the qigong master, what was being transmitted was ki or chi.

I must warn you that Sheldrake is not without controversy in the scientific community as some of his theories are held as quackery or the stuff of woo. However, the previous example was actually in reference to a 2000 study conducted by medical-imaging researcher Mikio Yamamoto at the National Institute of Radiological Sciences in Chiba, Japan.

In the past I've trained with the blindfold prop with limited success. Maybe my psi abilities are subpar. There are blind practitioners in grappling styles, such as I've posted about, but striking arts for the most part require physical sight to work. Not everyone agrees, though. Ninpo exponent Glenn Morris recounts testing for rank while blindfolded that involves avoiding a strike from behind delivered by the master wielding a shinai (light bamboo practice sword):

I crawled forward, sat on my heels in seiza [seated-kneeling position], closed my eyes and reached out with my feelings to connect. The first surprise came as I encountered "nobody home." Hatsumi [the master] was in mushin [state of no-mind] and I was in deep s---. As far as my body was concerned, no one was behind me. (There is more than one level of disappearing in this art and sometimes you don't connect things until you experience them. I had expected to be able to feel him.) I watched the white light behind my eyes and waited, saw a flicker in the phosphorous, and rolled. The sword smacked into the floor where I had been kneeling. Victory.*

The historian Donn Drager discusses the subliminal sense a medieval Japanese warrior would acquire called kan-ken futatsu no koto, a type of intuitive "seeing" that enabled him to deal with an opponent laying in ambush, or in a more practical example, "to step instantly over a log, body, or rock lying out of sight behind him in the path of his backward movement."^† Draeger maintains that this skill is developed through meditation and tireless practice. I still train and even meditate. But I won't be donning a blindfold in the dojo anytime soon.

* Glenn Morris 1993. Path Notes of an American Ninja Master. North Atlantic Books.
† Donn Draeger 1973. Classical Budo. Wheatherhill, Inc.

Translations of Chinese Martial Arts Manuals

For those into Chinese boxing and weapons systems here's a site written by Paul Brennan that translates into English an impressive collection of original Chinese works by various authors dated from 1875 to 1963 on Taiji, Shaolin, Xingyiquan, among other arts.

Texts include sections on self-defense, saber training, pushing-hands techniques, fitness, diet and philosophy.

Esoteric topics such as breathwork ("energy" or chi) and intent (xing) are discussed in Li Jianqiu's treatise on The Art of Xingyi Boxing (1920):

If you gather energy into your chest, you will gasp and it will not stay for long. If you gather energy into your lower abdomen, it will stay long and not hinder your breathing. It will accumulate gradually until it is abundant. This kind of energy is vast, and is more readily led by the intent.

Explanations and illustrations appear throughout on form and function as well as the differences between internal and external theory. Many of these works emphasize the unity of mind, body and spirit along with encouraging the would-be aspirant to cultivate a proper attitude and moral integrity in relation to the martial arts.

[Note to readers: Chinese martial arts are not my forte; for those schooled in this area I'll leave it to you to decide the value of these texts in today's world.]

How To Debunk A Scam Artist

Meet Jukka Lampila, the Finnish founder of the EFO system - Empty Force martial arts. EFO's techniques are purported to incapacitate attackers with little or no contact. Lampila wears a hakama - traditional garb worn in the aiki arts as well as some other Japanese budo, for what it's worth.

Earlier this month an EFO workshop was attended by some well behaved skeptics in Spain. Watch below and notice how the attendant skeptics respond to ukemi (attack/defend scenarios) from the "master" versus the brainwashed sheep. The clip has gone viral, which was uploaded just a few days ago.

From the EFO website:

In our training philosophy, an important aspect is not to try to use any physical force or pain to gain control of the attacker. With Efo, there are no specific forms or technics and each trainee applies it the way it best fits oneself.

In Efo there are no "courses" that would start and end somewhere. Instead, the fundamental principles (relaxation, mind and breathing) are exercised during every session. Thus, anyone can join and train any time. And if you can't join each and every session, you won't miss anything irreplaceable.

Spoiler alert: it doesn't work. You're not missing anything.

What would Master Ken say?

(h/t: Skepticool)

Hard vs. Soft

Isshinryu karate is occasionally described as a half-hard/half-soft martial art. This is a concept taken from Goju-ryu (go: hard; ju: soft), a forerunner style and extant system of Okinawan karate. Hard or external martial arts are characterized by use of muscular strength, speed, and linear movements. Soft or internal arts (almost always of Chinese origin) are defined by their circular body movements and especially the development of ki or chi. Hard martial arts are explosive, visibly combative and down to earth as it were. The soft or internal arts are ethereal and occasionally fodder for woo-skeptics. In truth, some concept of ju can be found in nearly every system of martial arts. Not meeting force with force, maintaining proper balance and blending with an opponent's energy are methods as worthy as developing as striking power and athleticism.¹

In Chinese boxing the contrast between external and internal styles is very well defined. This distinction, however, is somewhat muddled in Okinawan karate.² "The manner of spitting or drinking is either hard or soft" is taken from the Isshinryu Code (Eight Precepts of the Fist) but few ponder its meaning. In Japanese bujutsu the expression Ju yoku go o sei suru translates as "Softness controls hardness" or "Weakness controls strength."³ This is a philosophy that was probably hijacked from Chinese Daoism. Certainly, proper technique will win over brute strength, as again, this idea is held consistent within all combative styles.

Taking the hard-soft dichotomy to the next level of psychology or philosophy we could define these terms along different parameters. For example, an external or hard approach to martial arts could be found in the desire to compete in tournaments, training with ishi sashi (traditional weights) or on the makiwara (striking post). Soft or internal approaches may be realized in preventive measures such as verbal deescalation, awareness of one's surroundings, and cultivating health and chi through the practice of forms and meditation.

In Daoist texts the soft or yin model is commonly expressed as water. Water, the softest of all things, can eventually erode even the hardest of objects while seeking its own level and being at one with nature. As Bruce Lee famously said, "Water flows -- or it can crash! Be water, my friend."


1. Daniele Bolelli 2003. On The Warrior's Path. Frog, Ltd.
2. Michael Rosenbaum 2001. Okinawa's Complete Karate System: Isshinryu. YMMA Publication Center.
3. Donn Draeger 1974. Modern Bujutsu & Budo. Weatherhill, Inc.

Breath, Ki and Altered States

Karate was once defined by a certain high level instructor I know as an endeavor that is both hard and painful - hard as in difficult, not the external or linear aspects. Painful is self-explanatory. Pain for me is not just getting walloped or incurring injuries but also a by-product of arduous training. Karate workouts tend to be very cardio/aerobic in nature. Speaking from experience, the feeling of fatigue brought on by oxygen debt is what, in the words of legendary football coach Vince Lombardi, "makes cowards of us all." Nothing pushes one's boundaries more than a brutal training session (shugyo). Shugyo "polishes the spirit" as Draeger puts it, and can even be undertaken solo sans a group setting, according to Forrest Morgan, author of the now classic Living The Martial Way.

The breath is closely related to the (controversial) concept of ki (chi/qi). Kiai (spirited shout) is a manifestation of this force that is not limited to karate. At a recent Japanese Spring festival I attended, a local kendo (sword way) school put on an exhibition match that featured players that liberally employed the kiai. I thought it was a bit much, but then I don't do kendo. Years ago, I took a jiu-jitsu seminar given by a renown Daito-ryu exponent who thought the kiai was "fake" if not downright silly. Shortly thereafter he went on to show a technique that was concurrent with a forceful exhalation. "Why exhale there?" I inquired. "It makes you stronger" was the response. A silent kiai, perhaps?

In karate, techniques that are performed with slow, deliberate muscular contractions are frequently executed alongside of forceful breathing. In Isshinryu the kata Seisan, Seiuchin and Sanchin use such methods. Sanchin is a unique form with no real bunkai (fighting applications) - at least none that I'm aware of - that dates back to antiquity. Supposedly it was Sanchin that the mytho-historical figure Bodhidharma brought from India to the Shaolin Temple in China to shock the lethargic monks out of meditative stupor. In reality, the Sanchin kata was probably a cognate of an earlier qigong form used to facilitate respiration and the circulation of blood.

One of my instructors would advise to "breathe through the heels" when performing Sanchin. Though not anymore, back in his day (the 60s) Sanchin was the last karate kata taught in Isshinryu. Naturally then, when testing for shodan (1st black belt) Sanchin was the last kata performed after numerous forms had been completed at full power and speed. The now heavily fatigued aspirant was then expected to fight everyone in the school! Talk about shugyo. And no uninspired renditions of kata for testing were allowed, as I once witnessed two candidates fail their 2nd dan promotions for not 'working up enough sweat' through a dozen or so forms. I must say, Sanchin produces a training effect like nothing else. A friend of mine that runs an Isshinryu school nearby does a version of Sanchin utilizing "Dragon Breathing" (i.e. very intense) that he says he learned from Advincula Sensei.

In early Chinese texts much is said about the power and magic of the breath. One Zhou dynasty (c. 500 BCE) inscription on the breath translates thus:

When transforming the breath, the inhalation must be full to gather the magic. To gather the magic, fullness must be extended. When it is extended it can penetrate downward. When it can penetrate downward it is magic. When it descends it becomes calm, solidifies, and is both strong and firm.

When novices are preparing for a test or tourney I advise them to take a slow, deep breath a moment before a point match or performance of kata. It has been long known that emotions affect the rate of breathing, but the opposite is also true: controlled breathing regulates the emotions. Stan Grof, a pioneer in transpersonal psychology and LSD research, has developed something called holotropic breathing that reportedly brings about altered states of consciousness. Thanks, no. If I want to achieve euphoria or pain-induced ecstasy I'll stick with good ol' martial arts training.

Striking Distance

Middle-Aged Martial Artist recently penned a post about punching range, in particular how boxers use "reach" to their advantage. In the Sweet Science, having long arms is considered favorable as a skilled fighter can use them to keep an invasive opponent on the outside. The pugilist's jab or the karateka's forward leg front kick both work effectively to stop an aggressor in his tracks.

Still, if you don't possess the reach advantage, or even if you're not that good of a fighter on the outside, getting in that close range shot may be you're best bet. Short strikes such as hooks and uppercuts are fast, powerful and difficult to detect. It was fifties boxing contender Rocky Marciano that delivered a crushing right cross that traveled a mere six inches to knock the heavyweight crown right off Jersey Joe Walcott's head. Taken to its extreme, we have the controversial 1-inch punch that Bruce Lee demonstrates here in 1964:

I'm told that Lee's uke in this footage was in fact a judo player. Note that he's not braced in any kind of a fighting stance whatsoever when he gets hit. Also note that Lee's arm is nearly extended prior to punching. Maybe it's just me, but this looks more like a push than anything else.

Supposedly the trick to this little 1-inch miracle shot is to deliver the strike with a vertical fist and upon impact torque the still standing fist to protrude the bottom two knuckles (as opposed to the traditional method of striking with the top two knuckles). In this way ki-energy that already is flowing down the ulna of the forearm will be dispensed into the bottom portion of the fist and into the hapless opponent. This certainly wasn't Lee's explaination as he had some serious doubts about the existence of ki at all. Draeger believed in its presence but from a practical viewpoint, sans the "carnival hocus-pocus" seen in clips of George Dillman, Jack Hogan, et al.

One noteworthy theory of ki is that it begins in the lower extremities and then radiates to wherever you can get it to go. This idea holds up well alongside of the bio-mechanics involved with delivering any kind of strike. Proper foot alignment and rotation of hips are critical to executing maximum force to punches. Getting real power into short range strikes can be tricky - it might require a little magic - but definitely requires lots of practice.

Maturity

I remember reading somewhere that the measure of one's character could be determined in the execution of a punch or kick. That sounds like a bit of a stretch, although early Chinese thought implies a correlation between chi and morality. At any rate, a certain amount of wisdom is expected to be developed alongside of one's advancement in their art. Dan denotes a black belt rank, but another definition suggests a coming of age, not only chronologically, but in maturation. Children hold black belts, but they are not yudansha nor should they be regarded as such. Most schools will actually retest young black belts for shodan when they arrive at a certain age, usually 16.

In his book Nature and the Human Soul, Bill Plotkin describes a social ill that he calls patho-adolescence: adults - especially those in a position of authority and power - who possess the mental and emotional acuity of teenagers. Think of certain political figures that have headlined the news recently. Are there any sensei or black belts that you've come across that could be labeled as immature? The consummate martial artist should have a developed sense of responsibilty and self-control. One instructor I knew told me that he doesn't spar with his students out of fear of killing someone. I suggested a career in Special Forces. He didn't get it.

When I speak of maturity in the martial arts, it's not stoical indifference to joy or grief - believe me, there's plenty of both to be found in the dojo - but rather integrating wholeness within the range of human emotions. Some high ranking instructors that I've met mix a good deal of humor into their lessons. "Sometimes you have to entertain your students" a colleague of mine once said. It's good to lighten up once in a while. Being childlike is not the same as being childish.

The No-Touch Knockout

I was checking out some info on qigong (chi kung) when I came across this rather interesting albeit amusing footage of the no-touch KO trick. The real trick is finding willing participants who make the star of the show look like the real deal. There are all kinds of hucksters out there trying to sell their so-called ability to manipulate chi or ki at a distance. This clip features a top student of George Dillman performing the demo. Dillman's a big name in the martial arts world which gives these particular demonstrations far more credibility than they deserve.

The US government invested millions into researching "remote viewing" (clairvoyance) during the Cold War. Too bad the powers that be haven't seen this clip. I want to believe, but I just can't. You decide:

Are You Tough Enough?

If you're involved in any kind of free-style fighting or grappling at your school, eventually you're going to get hit, kicked, thrown or choked out. It's all part of the game, and players need to experience this incrementally over a period of time to desensitize themselves to the physical and psychological discomfort of getting busted up. While general exercise gets us in shape to sustain battle, traditional exercises were created to condition the body to take a certain amount of abuse without incurring any serious or permanent damage. Before I delve any further into this, it should be noted that some of these body-hardening techniques are somewhat controversial and have the potential to do far more harm than good. Women may have difficulty accepting these routines and they're not recommended for kids. You've been warned.

The ancient karate form sanchin is a kind of moving isometric muscle builder that emphasizes deep breathing with a sharp hiss. Performing sanchin is akin to moving an imaginary heavy weight. When being tested for this kata the student is expected to withstand sound kicks and punches delivered to the legs and torso. In demonstrations, the expert sanchin performer endures objects being broken over his body with no apparent ill effects. Some practitioners really go overboard and actually end up with high blood pressure and related problems from the forced breathing aspect of this form.

Kotekitai is a forearm muscle conditioner done with a partner. Students pair up and alternate striking the inside and outside of each others forearms similar to a blocking drill. This is an importatnt routine for Isshinryu karateka, where blocking is always done with the muscular side of the forearm. In many styles, the mechanics of the block exposes the bony ridge of the forearm (ulna), which can cause it to break upon impact, especially from a kick.

A makiwara is a striking post, usually padded with straw, rubber or carpet to cushion the impact of the strike. Fist, elbow and shuto (blade-hand) strikes are practiced. Old time practitioners used to develop large calluses on their knuckles from years of training on these devices. In actuality, the object is to develop strength and precision in all areas of striking that can't be duplicated in sparring or forms practice.

In certain Chinese martial arts, qigong (chi gung) is emphasized. This esoteric practice of manipulating one's chi or ki energy is reputed to have the capacity to reinforce areas of the body against blows. These methods are referred to as iron shirt techniques, and date back centuries. The existence of ki/chi remains questionable as modern science has not investigated this area enough to prove anything conclusive.

While I believe that the student has to get a feel for what a real fight is like through sparring and occasionally taking some hard shots, I'm not totally convinced that it's possible to strengthen parts of the body through repeated blows. I do believe there is an emotional component connected to the "shock" of getting hit that needs to be overcome. Is it really possible to turn one's body into protective armor? If you're willing to find out, proceed with caution.

Haragei

Whether speaking of human physiology or esoteric martial arts, the ability to generate power and maintain proper movement and balance begins by identifying your center of gravity (itten) located in the lower abdomen - the hara. When haragei is optimally developed, a special quality of power emerges - one that exceeds ordinary muscular strength. The feeling of being rooted, yet agile, is essential in every system in the martial arts. In explaining one of the secrets of Okinawan karate, goju-ryu founder Chojun Miyagi used the parallel of a willow tree enduring a wind storm; while the top of the tree and its branches sway in the direction of the wind, the trunk remains unmovable and planted. Conversely, when one feels tense, or relies upon typical "arm strength", this point of energy (ki) rises, and causes the practitioner to become top-heavy and off-balance. This is why maintaining proper stances and rotating the hips during various techniques are so important in the martial arts. The ability to kiai and the audible breathing aspects of certain forms must also begin in the hara.

The hara is also the reference point of mental focus in some meditation practices (mokuso), and is considered the seat of courage and intuition (kan), as expressed in having "guts" or a "gut feeling". Natives of many tribal cultures regard the abdominal region as the site of the mind, even the soul.

Despite some of the mystical connotations associated with the hara, in practical terms it is the source of one's power, balance, and spirit in the martial arts.

Take It Easy

The martial arts, traditionally, is a very physical pursuit. Truly a labor of love, training in the martial arts taxes the human body like few things can. Energy (ki) flows most efficiently through an open channel, much like water flows through an unobstructed garden hose. Any impediment will not only block the delivery of energy, but will actually create a much greater demand for energy than is actually needed for the task. In other words, the ability to relax creates a state which utilizes martial arts techniques with premium efficiency. Speed and power are born of the relaxed state. Relaxation starts in the mind. Anxiety, rage and doubt - all fear based behaviors - are analogous to bending a garden hose that is supplying the water. Most negative psychological states create unconscious muscular contractions which interfere with proper execution of technique. Throughout the move, stay loose and relaxed; only at the end of the strike or block should the muscles contract - then immediately relax again. This describes the concept of snap. Snapping techniques actually involve staying loose through about 99% of the move.

While being in shape is a natural by-product of dedicated training, the inability to relax will definitely produce rapid fatigue. A performance of kata by a master practitioner clearly illustrates how important it is to loosen up in certain sections, then explode into a fusillade of punches and kicks in others. The "breaks" in the kata are very important; otherwise it would be one frantic volley of offensive tactics that would leave the practitioner exhausted. Proper breathing - which has been proven to produce a calming effect on the central nervous system, is yet another factor to consider. The ability to relax conserves energy, allows clear-minded awareness, and prepares the practitioner to strike with devastating power.

The Spirit of Kiai

For the benefit of the uninitiated, a kiai (key'-eye) is the traditional "shout" one hears in the martial arts - but it is much more. In fact, there is no adequate translation for kiai without a brief discussion of its main component, ki. Ki, or its Chinese equivalent, chi, is correlated to breathing. Spirit has an etymology that has roots with breath, as in respiration. Ki, spirit, and breathing are deeply connected. So coordinating one's breathing with martial arts techniques is imperative to mastering them. The kiai works its magic during exhalation, and just prior to a strike; breathing out allows us to generate maximum power. An added benefit of kiai has the potential to startle the opponent, while invoking our own passion and kokoro (fighting spirit).

An appropriate, well timed kiai should be used sparingly. It's important for a kiai to be as convincing as possible. In most traditional karate kata, two kiais make separate appearances, usually during a critical moment in the fight sequence. Since all kata start with a defensive move, the kiai represents an offensive conclusion delivered at the end of a series of techniques. There has been some misunderstanding of the real meaning of kiai; some regard it as unnecessary, or even phony. It's really up to the practitioner to give it significance, otherwise it just becomes a form of glorified yelling. For the dedicated budoka, the kiai symbolizes the manifestation of breath and technique, unified in an exultation of spirit.