Martial Arts and Longevity

Below is an excerpt from an interesting post at Budo Journeyman. The full post may be read here.

 ... I did my own survey of available dates for deceased masters of tai chi and bagua, a total of 47 individuals going back into the 18^th century.

After crunching the numbers, the average lifespan came out as 76 years old, with just one person hitting the 100 years mark and only four making it past 89. The bagua people seemed to live much longer than the tai chi masters.

76 is okay, but it’s not world breaking. Certainly, as far as I can see, all that antioxidant green tea and ginseng, plus the magic herbs, did not really make a jot of difference.

Another study which happened after Covid said that those who kept their body and soul together during lockdown through tai chi exercise increased their lifespan. My thought on that; if you had enough motivation to get yourself out of a chair and actually do something then there must be a quite potent force of positivity about you – but it doesn’t have to be tai chi, it could be anything moderately active. Those types of people do far better than others who might be inclined to slump into negativity, it’s common sense really.

After looking into this and trying to establish some kind of truth, it started to look ridiculously complicated and unlikely to find any definitive truth. The main problems seem to be:

·       How can we trust the claims of people who say they have lived beyond a feasible lifespan? Evidence for the advanced age of Li Ching Yuen is really unconvincing, because in his time, records were chaotic or just non-existent. Claims of extended lifespans in Japan seem to come out of flawed statistics (some people even illegally claiming pensions for dead relatives, which has skewed the data) and besides any health gains that Japanese people used to be able to claim have been ruined by the introduction of the western style diet. Recent studies have suggested that in Japan prostate cancer has risen from almost zero to western style highs because of the heavy involvement of dairy products that hardly ever featured in the Japanese diet.

·       How do we know that long life isn’t just a result of lucky genes?

·       How do you account for just bad luck, catastrophic disease, wars, famine etc?

From the martial arts perspective; just reading around the subject I come across all kinds of medical pseudo-science, involving claims of ‘massaging of the organs’, boosting the endocrine system, ‘nurturing internal strength’ etc. etc.

Human health is much more complicated than this hocus pocus would like us to believe. But, I suppose we have to just keep trying.

As you read this post I am practising my pigeon-walk at this very moment – but, I have to be honest, it’s making my neck ache.

 

 

Yin and Yang in Our Personal Training

Below is an excerpt from a post at Zen Sekai - Japan 2 @ 70, regarding the authors's reflections on his many faceted approach to his own personal training. The full post may be read here.

 

I always enjoyed Kali, working with a partner, feeling the rhythm, the practical flow.
When I first took an interest in it, it was back in Los Angeles, not far from the Tai Mantis school I was training at. 
The Kali Academy, founded by Danny Inosanto, had a reputation. Mostly because of the students who wanted to be the next Bruce Lee; he had taught there, Jeet Kune Do.

There was a friendly rivalry between our schools. Someone once asked me, “What do you want with that stick-fighting stuff?” 
I laughed, because I already knew the answer: the same thing I wanted from everything, understanding through motion.

Chiang Mai , The Yearly Return

Recently, during my yearly training pilgrimage to Chiang Mai, I made a pleasant discovery: a Kali school tucked away in the same city where I usually study Wu-style Tai Chi.

I started Wu Tai Chi years ago after learning it was more internally focused than Yang, yet still retained combat practicality…a kind of bridge between stillness and application. Another big plus in Chiang Mai is that my teacher speaks English, and I have partner to train with. That might sound small, but it makes a world of difference.

Even when I work with my own students, the experience is different. Their foundation is built on what I taught them. When training in a new style or under a different system, I have to dial back both skill and ego. That’s often harder than learning a new move.

Keeping the cup empty, that’s the real discipline.

 

 

 

Is Budo Relevant Today?

Over at The Budo Bum, the author gives his opinion on the question of whether Budo study is still relevant in our modern society. An excerpt is below. The full post may be read here.

How can budo be relevant in the 21st century, especially koryu budo, those arts established before 1868? It’s not as if anyone is training for combat with swords and spears. Close combat now is rifles and grenades, with drones quickly making even those look a bit out of date. What’s the point of training with archaic weapons, besides acting out fantasies of being samurai?

Each generation of students is responsible for understanding how their art is relevant to the world they live in. My teachers did it in their time. I did it. Now it is my students’ time. No one can do it for them.

Koryu budo training hasn’t changed substantially in hundreds of years. Through the practice of carefully developed kata, students learn and master structure, movement, timing, spacing, techniques, and refine their mental abilities so they can move and act calmly and smoothly even under extreme pressure. People throw criticism at the training method because it doesn’t emphasize competition. I’ve written critiques of competition in budo before. I won’t repeat them here. Informal sparring was always part of koryu training, even if it was almost never considered important enough to codify.

Sparring doesn’t make budo relevant. Knowing how to punch, kick, throw, choke, hit with sticks, and cut with a sword aren’t particularly relevant skills in 21st century industrialized societies. I don’t know about anyone else, but I can’t think of many lifestyles where you might expect to need those skills. We’re not all going to be police officers, bouncers, or soldiers. What makes koryu budo relevant is all the stuff that made it attractive to samurai during the 250 years of the peace enforced by the Tokugawa Shoguns. It’s not techniques that win in conflict, it’s all the other stuff. The Taisha Ryu masterwork, Kaichu, found in Unravelling The Cords - The Instructions of a Master in the Tradition of Taisha-Ryu says a little about techniques, and a lot about the mind. Takuan Soho’s The Unfettered Mind has nothing to say about technique at all, and yet it has been prized by the swordsmen of Yagyu Shinkage Ryu for four centuries.

So how do you make koryu budo ryu that are hundreds of years old relevant in the 21st century? The difficult part is learning koryu budo. Making it relevant is the easy part. No, we don’t fight in the streets with swords and spears and staves and naginata. We still fight though. Conflict is inherent in life, and the conflict we are most likely to encounter is the same kind of conflict that samurai throughout the Edo Period in Japan were most likely to encounter: social conflict. The Edo Period was more than 250 years of peace in Japan. Close combat skills were not in high demand. The mental skills and strengths that good budo training develops were though; and are just as useful when people aren’t physically attacking you as they are when your opponent is trying to physically demolish you.

Budo training is not just technical. My budo training turned out to be useful in all sorts of places I didn’t expect. It helped make me a better negotiator in business. In the dojo people regularly try to throw me to the ground, choke me unconscious, or beat me with sticks. Sometimes they succeed. People I deal with in business relationships get upset, yell, pound the table, and get right up in my face, all in an effort to intimidate and bully me. After getting used to real physical consequences in the dojo, people who get upset and emotional in meetings come off like a 2-year-old having a tantrum. It is sound and fury, signifying nothing. I wait for them to get tired, and then we do it my way.

 

 

The Round and Square Forms in Taijiquan Practice

At his Classical Tai Chi blog, Jim Roach has some interesting thoughts on two modes of practicing the taijiquan form. An excerpt is below. The full post may be read here.

My own teacher, Stephen Hwa, Ph.D., did seminars for Jou Tsung-Hwa's students and he told me in an email that Jou Tsung-Hwa was “…someone who was in search of the truth in Tai Chi, and I would like to meet him…”. Master Jou was the author of The Tao of Tai-Chi Chuan.  He used the analogy of a film to explain the movement of Tai Chi. He stated that when viewed as individual, static poses, the movements make no sense. The proper motion and meaning are only perceived when the "frames" are put together and performed fluidly as a continuous sequence. The "Film" analogy teaches several core concepts of Tai Chi practice that can aptly be applied to Classical Tai Chi. 

In the numerous styles, there is really only one that has a “round” form and a “square” (fang) form. The Wu Style, with all its own derivatives, often surprises people with the direct opposite requirement between Square and Round.

The direct opposite requirement is not unique, however:

I am echoing Master Hwa as I relate my own experience. Just think how one learns the art of calligraphy. My own teacher echoes this in the video link. My own experience had me learning Chinese Calligraphy, how to write in print form (brush and ink, of course). Then I studied a smidgen of cursive calligraphy. The differences between these two writing forms are analogous to the differences between those two Tai Chi Forms.

Square Form is analogous to the block printing of (pinyin) Kai Style, or what is called “Kai Shu”. The round form is analogous to Tsao Style or "Tsao Shu/Cao Shu" or the cursive script.

In Square Form, as in calligraphy, movements occur along relatively straight lines between points (the start and end points of inflection). The Round Form, with its curves, has the curves passing through those points. The Square Form is like a template for the Round Form. As you see, the curves go through the points where the lines meet.

Again, merely echoing my teacher, who was a Ph.D. engineer and scientist at Xerox Corporation.  Like the Calculus of Mathematics; however, I would point out that the Round Form is like the calculus, which integrates a tiny segment of a curved motion as a straight line to form the curved motion. A Square Form is like taking one of the small straight lines and expanding it into a straight movement. The way of the universe uses principles that govern everything that appears unrelated.

 

 

Karate Day Demonstrations

Below are some Karate Day demonstrations held on Okinawa.

 

Vintage Kobudo Video

Okinawan Kobudo is the weapons art that often accompanies Karate. Below is a vintage video.

 

 

The Taijiquan of Maggie Newman

Over at Bloke on the Path, a video was posted of Maggie Newman doing the Yang 37 Taijiquan form. Ms Newman was one of the most senior students of Cheng Man Ching in the US. She was a storied dancer; widely known and respected, and threw it all aside to study Tajiquan under Master Cheng.

 

 

The History of Japanese Boxing

At The Budo Journeyman, there was a post describing the history of western boxing in Japan, as well as a look at striking in general. An excerpt is below. The full post may be read here.

I recently read an interview with Okinawan karate expert Patrick McCarthy, in which he said; (worth quoting in its fuller version, to give context):

“Rare as they may be, I witnessed several street/pub confrontations with salary men, over the many years I resided in Japan. I never paid much attention to the fact that not once did I ever see a Japanese kick or punch each other in such encounters. Rather, it was more aggressive shoving, slapping and wrestling than the kind of physical brutality we’ve become so used to in the West. In a conversation with my Fujisawa boxing coach, Mr. Yamagami, I was surprised to learn that Japanese did not have a history of using a kobushi (clenched fist) in street confrontations. In fact, according to him, such a thing did not become popular until the post-war years and even then, it was mostly amongst Yakuza-type Japanese. Later, when I was doing some research …, I discovered a 1921 article written by Sasaki Gogai, in which he talks about how excited the Japanese all were about (kobushi-based fighting) after watching the Jack Dempsy [sic] vs Georges Carpentier’s world title bout in New Jersey earlier that year. When I started asking a few questions here and there I was very surprised to learn that the said fight was the first time a nation (Japan) had ever seen boxing!”

Source: https://www.usadojo.com/one-on-one-with-hanshi-patrick-mccarthy/

I had never thought about this before, and so started to dig into it.

Early boxing in Japan.

It seems that boxing (in a small way) was experienced by the Japanese as early as Matthew Perry and the ‘Black Ships’.

In 1854 there was a kind of sporting bout between a western sailor and a Japanese sumo wrestler. I am pretty sure the wrestler would have tried to use the sumo-style slaps and then bounce the guy, but would have probably suffered against the boxing methodology of the sailor, (which, I wouldn’t have imagined was very sophisticated. In England at the time, the champion boxer was Tom Sayers, who would have been of the bare-knuckled fighting breed). It’s difficult to find any reliable details.

This wasn’t necessarily a full cultural exchange, or the springboard for the Japanese to embrace boxing. That was to come much later.

The establishment of Japanese boxing.

According to Wiki, ‘The first boxing gym Meriken Training Institute (メリケン練習所) was established in Ishikawachō, Yokohama, Kanagawa by James Hōjō (ジェームス 北條) and Toranosuke Saitō (齋藤 虎之助) in 1896. After the first tutorial book, Bōgeki Jizai Seiyō Kentōjutsu (防撃自在西洋拳闘術) was issued in 1900, followed shortly by International Jūken Club (国際柔拳倶楽部) was opened in Mikage, Kobe by Kenji Kanō in 1909’.

Boxing as a sport in Japan became a real thing in the 1920’s with the setting up of professional organisations. So really, boxing had at least forty years of development before the Dempsey fight.

I suspect Mr McCarthy is making a quiet case for the novelty of the Okinawan method of attacking with the fist in a ‘punching’ manner (as it might have appeared to 1920 city dwellers in Tokyo and Osaka). But we know that fighting with the fist had a very long tradition in China, which then leaked across to Okinawa.

Striking arts in Japanese martial arts.

It depends how pedantic you want to be about this. I mean, what do we mean by the fist? Is anything with a closed hand a fist?

The older forms of unarmed combat in Japan had hand strikes a plenty, but not really with the intent of repeatedly bludgeoning someone into submission or unconsciousness. The hand strikes in jujutsu had many nuanced uses; anything from a distraction to an incapacitating nerve strike (strikes to neck, the philtrum or the temple, or multiple other hits to the head, have always been there).

Just to be clear, the sumo slap (harite) is mainly a distractor, or a head turning strategy, not that it wouldn’t be a painless experience to be on the end of it.

 

 

 

The Aikido of Ryuji Shirakawa

Ryuji Shirakawa is just so much fun to watch. Enjoy.

 

 

The Last Part of the Kata

At Shugyo, a blog about iaido and jodo training, the author made a post specifically about the last part of each iaido kata, the noto. It's worth reading and considering for every form that we practice.

An excerpt is below. The full post may be read here.

The arse end of the kata

I was once told during a written examination of iaido in Japan, that the four "columns" of iaido consisted usually of nukitsu, kiritsuke, chiburi and noto. Every kata, more or less, contained all of these elements. Each possesses an essential quality of its own:

• Nukitsuke would be expressed by a range of strategies including taking the enemy by surprise, seizing the moment, controlling or suppressing their attack etc.
• Kiritsuke* would be expressed as a decisive termination of the enemy's life once the exponent had decided that this was the only solution.
• Chuburi would be an expression of zanshin once the distinct fighting part of the kata is over to release the body and unseize the mind.
• Noto additionally would be an expression of zanshin, almost the complete reverse of nukitsuke, but being uber aware during this dangerous moment of the sword being resheathed thus being a moment at which the exponent was most vulnerable to an additional attack. 

*For those kata that are concluded with a thrust, this element would be called Tsukizuke which is both difficult to pronounce without spitting and is a homophone of "moon pickles". 

Despite each of these elements being self-evidently vital, I sometimes (often) notice the tendency for noto to be given a slightly lower position on the priority ladder. It seems that once all the sword waving and posing for the camera had been completed, noto was a fiddly detail that one had to get through in order to progress to the next kata.

Given the number of minor injuries that I and others had suffered while doing noto, this feels like a wasted moment if not given the same priorities as the other elements in the kata. I mean, just because the letter "Z" is at the arse end of the alphabet, it doesn't make it less important - ask any Polish person! 

To illustrate this vital point, here is a list of the names of some my closest Polish friends with the Z's in their names caps'd and in bold.

•  LukasZ Machura
• Michał SZcZepański
• Paweł BrZeZiński
• AgniesZka KrawcZyk
• Marcin Zyga
•  Ziemowit ZenZiZenZiZenZic (shortened to "Domański")

Most of them have more Z's in their name than vowels! Some has more Z' than letters!

Back to the story... 

During 2024 and 2025 I spent some considerable time in Japan training at Shinbukan while students of our dojo prepared to take 6th and 7th dan exams in iaido and jodo. It just so happened during one of these visits, while coaching a 6th dan iaido candidate who had just been landed with her brand new shinken, that Ishido Sensei explained in detail the method of doing horizontal noto i.e. that used in Muso Shinden Ryu and other ryuha.

While I had picked up snippets of this methodology over the years, this was the first time to have it explained in such comprehensive and complete detail. Additionally, Ishido Sensei over the last year during my visits was very focused on the correctness and general performance of noto.

He showed me a scratchy old black-and-white video of some very old iaido masters (who were also scratchy and black-and-white) doing demonstrations and at one point, emphasised how, despite age affecting their speed and power in nukitsuke, kiritsuke and chiburi, their noto still contained the essential aspects of speed, fluidity, control and zanshin vital for a well performed noto. He told me that while most people could learn speed and power within a few years, true quality from decades of practice becomes visible in the way noto is performed.

And so he instructed very clearly and in detail, the exact movements of preparing for noto which I will try to present now. Please bear in mind that this is Ishido Sensei's version of Muso Shinden Ryu noto; other styles may have other methods, even other lines of MSR might vary.

I will first explain my understanding of his noto method up to that point and then explain why it doesn't work so well. Previously I had gripped the koiguchi in a natural way and then rotated the saya (that is the angle of the koiguchi to about 45°. Then as the sword approached the left hand I would rotate the saya to the full 90° to align the hasuji of the saya with that of the sword. I wasn't sure why it should be rotate to a 45° waiting position first, I just did it as I had been taught this way by Ishido Sensei.

 

 

 

Boost Your Martial Arts Training

There was another thought provoking post at Budo Journeyman. An excerpt is below. The full post may be read here.

Take it from me, these three factors I’ve either benefitted from, or my past self would have reaped the largesse,… if I had known. And so, I want to share this with my readers.

Power Boost number one:

Tap into the right mantras and motivators.

Everybody likes a saying, a phrase that is a go-to kick in the pants. The problem is that this stuff is all over the Internet and although it sounds profound, it either isn’t or it’s not going to rock your world. Some of it is even contradictory.

Here are a few things that I either would have benefitted from, or I still tap into today. All relating to training in the martial arts:

Marcus Aurelius (Roman emperor warrior and Stoic Philosopher). The full quote is:

“I have to go to work — as a human being. What do I have to complain of, if I'm going to do what I was born for — the things I was brought into the world to do? Or is this what I was created for? To huddle under the blankets and stay warm?'"

Or, ‘nobody achieves anything by lying in bed’.

Now try this one…

Ray Kroc (the founder of McDonalds) quote:

"The two most important requirements for major success are: first, being in the right place at the right time, and second, doing something about it"

A very similar quote, or the same sentiment is attributed to the founder of Motown Records, Berry Gordy.

 

Whether it’s written down, or from verbal tradition; work out what works for you.

I can relate this the Brian Eno’s ‘The Scenius’ mentioned in my piece on Genius; https://budojourneyman.substack.com/p/the-genius-effect

Recognise that you are in a major advantageous situation and milk it for all it’s worth.

Sometimes, you are in the middle of something, a door opens and you fail to act (I have certain personal regrets that continue to haunt me to this day).

And now…

Ellis Amdur (martial arts writer and respected Koryu practitioner).

Paraphrased here:

If you want to really figure out the wisdom of a true martial arts expert, ‘all you gotta do is PAY ATTENTION’.

Brilliant. Too many people have real pearls of wisdom laid out in front of them by a genuine authority and allow their own mental chatter to get in the way.

Sort yourself out!

Confession time; I have made this error myself. I missed it first time round because I was too busy transposing my own ‘wisdom’ over the top of it (fool that I am).

There are many more, but it’s what works for you.

The Aikido of Takeshi Kimeda

 

When I trained in Yoshinkan aikido under Kushida Sensei back in the 70's and 80's in Detroit, a frequent visitor was Takeshi Kimeda Sensei, who was in charge of Yoshinkan Aikido in Canada. I was able to snag him as a training partner a few times and it was a wonderful experience.

 Below is a video of a demonstration he gave in 2018. Enjoy.

 

 

The Four Standards of the Sanchin Kata

 

The Aikido of Kanshu Sunadomori

 

Taijiquan and Non Violence

There was recently an interesting post at Thoughts on Tai Chi about Taijiquan and Non Violence. An excerpt is below. The full post may be read here.

Tai Chi Chuan is a completely non-violent martial art. There, I said it!

What? How can a martial art be non-violent?

Well, that’s a good question – so please let me explain. If a skilled Tai Chi practitioner is attacked, he or she does not acknowledge aggression or violence.

We don’t acknowledge aggressive manners or words. We don’t respond to them. We keep both mind and heart empty, not allowing another person’s violence to attach itself to us.

And – if we are attacked physically, we don’t perceive it as a weapon or a threat. Instead, we see the attacker’s movement as nothing more than a physical action – harmless in itself – and we simply move through space, adjusting to the motion.

If I stand still in the path of a fist, yes, Tai Chi becomes violent – because I allow you to hurt me. That is violence. So Tai Chi cannot be passive, because passivity invites violence. Instead, a skilled practitioner – regardless of the type of attack – will not meet the attack head-on. So, I will not meet a punch with my face, but at the same time, I will not try to block the force or stop the direction of the punch.

Regardless of the attack, a good Tai Chi practitioner will follow and guide the moving body.

Pay close attention here. Notice my wording: I did not say “follow and guide the attack,” or “follow and guide the punch.” I mean exactly what I wrote – follow and guide the moving body. This means the whole body. When someone attacks, we connect to their balance and their center. But again – without ever meeting force directly.

Tai Chi is about following, guiding, entering, finding the gaps, and mirroring the opponent’s movements. All of it is non-violent.

 

The Fundamental Practice of Karate

 

The Most Rewatched Fight Scenes of All Time

Below is a compilation of the top 15 most rewatched fight scenes.

 

the Aikido of Tsurozo Miyamoto

 Ryote Dori variations.

 

Martial Arts and Aging

As I grow older (I'll be 68 in a couple of month), this topic becomes more and more important to me.

Below is an excerpt from a post that appeard at  Zen's Sekai - Japan 2 @ 70. The author has a deep and broad martial arts background and has shared some thoughts. The full post may be read here.

 

䷹ – Hexagram 61: Inner Truth (Zhōng Fú)a

Theme: Harmony between heart and action. True strength flows from sincerity, not force.

“When the heart is open and the mind clear, even the smallest effort carries great weight.”

Evolving the Way : Zen, Martial Arts, and Age

Trying to train at seventy-five as if you were thirty-five…or even fifty-five…is not only unwise, it is a quiet rejection of the very teachings we claim to follow. In Zen, we speak of impermanence. In martial arts, we speak of timing. Both point to the same truth: all things change, and to resist that change is to create unnecessary suffering.

But impermanence is not an excuse to stop. It is an invitation to evolve.

Youth and Power

In youth, practice is often a celebration of raw strength and boundless energy. We want to push our limits, to test what the body can endure. Whether in the dojo, on the archery range, or walking the circle in Ba Gua, every session is a chance to go faster, strike harder, or hold a stance longer. These are valuable years, building a foundation of skill, resilience, and discipline.

Maturity and Refinement

By middle age, we begin to see the art beneath the effort. Movements that once relied on muscle now draw on structure and timing. In Kyudo, the draw is no longer just about power, but about the settling of the breath and the stillness of the mind. In Tai Chi or Hsing Yi, our strikes and steps carry the weight of accumulated awareness, and we learn that conservation of energy can be as effective as explosive release.

The Gift of Age

At seventy-five, the practice changes again. The goal is no longer to prove what we can do, but to express what we have become. Breath becomes our ally, economy of movement our strategy, and patience our greatest strength. A shorter training session, done with full awareness, can be more profound than a day of youthful exertion.

 

 

Wu Family Style Taijiquan Applications

Here is a short video of some Wu style taijiquan push hands applications, from the 4th generation of the family, Wu Dakui.

 

 

Large Circle vs Small Circle Taijiquan

Over at the Classical Tai Chi Blog, there is a post explaining how the large and small circle practices differ. Below is an excerpt. The full post may be read here.

 ...

Small circle Tai Chi minimizes arm movement, keeps shoulders down, and generates power from the core. The large Circle style has excessive arm moves, movement at the shoulders, and power from the legs. In contrast, the Classical Tai Chi taught by Master Stephen Hwa and certified teachers, emphasizes internal discipline. Every movement originates from the core of the body, specifically the abdomen and back, and the Yin/Yang Junction in the Core, a point where yin and yang energies meet, is located within the torso, not at the limbs.


 So many things are moving extraneously in the large frame. The primary purpose of the Square Form in Classical Tai Chi, the first step in the Classical Tai Chi teaching method is to teach the student how to delineate yin and yang by moving only one part of the body while keeping another still, a principle essential for internal movement.

 

When practitioners attempt to perform the Small Circle ( often referred to as small frame)  form using large, external movements typical of large frame Tai Chi, they practice a different art form. This can interfere with the development of the internal energy as external movements create localized yin-yang junctions at the joints (shoulders, elbows, knees, hips), which impede the smooth circulation of qi throughout the body.


The Small Circle form is internal with its energy and continuity. This is achieved by minimizing external movements and focusing on subtle, internal movements originating from the core. The ultimate goal is to achieve seamless transitions and a smooth, continuous flow of energy throughout the body, a state that cannot be attained through the large, external motions of the large frame style. 

 

 Large Circle contradicts the principles of internal discipline and core-driven movement that define the Small Circle art.

However, it's common for practitioners, particularly those who started with the more widespread 'large frame' Tai Chi, to perform large, expansive circles in their movements mistakenly. Recognizing and correcting these mistakes is a crucial part of the learning process, and it's a sign of your dedication to mastering the art of Tai Chi. 

    Initial Training Focus: Many styles begin with large frame movements, which focus on developing whole-body connection and stretching through a broader range of motion. These larger movements might persist while doing a small circle form if not carefully transitioned to small circle principles.
    Misinterpretation of "Roundness": Classical Tai Chi Round Form emphasizes rounded, continuous movements. However, misunderstanding this principle can lead to exaggerated circular motions that lack the specific internal mechanics of small circle Tai Chi, such as the use of the waist and spine to initiate and direct movements.Focus on External Form: Beginners sometimes focus primarily on the external appearance of the movements, rather than the internal mechanics central to small Circle Tai Chi. 

 

Why are large circles less effective in small circle Classical Tai Chi?

    Dispersal of Force: Large, uncontrolled circles can dissipate energy and weaken the practitioner's structure, making it harder to generate power and maintain balance.
    Lack of Internal Containment: Small circle Tai Chi emphasizes containing movements within the practitioner's body frame, maintaining structural integrity and control. Large circles can violate this principle.
    Reduced Effectiveness in Push Hands and Applications: While a large circle is valuable for building foundational connection and flexibility, a small circle is often regarded as more martial, as it teaches more efficient and precise force application, crucial for push hands.

 

The Aikido of Morihiko Murashige

 

Traditional and Modern Karate

An excerpt from another insightful post at Budo Journeyman is below. It discusses just what is "traditional karate," "modern karate," and points in between. An interesting read. The full post may be read here.

‘Traditional’, call it a label of convenience; call it a handy pigeonhole to categorise what is done. You can even use it as a hallmark of quality, if you want. But how helpful is it, and who cares anyway?

Clearly some people care, or they wouldn’t keep using it. Some wear it as a badge of honour. To the detractors and critics it becomes yet another thing to take a swing at, a convenient target, their favourite strawman.

What does ‘traditional’ mean?

A key part of my college training was to look at the early history of advertising; selling through the message and labels were important. We were told that if you wanted to sell something to the Americans you attached the words ‘New Improved’ to it; but if you wanted to sell to the British you were better off using the word, ‘Traditional’. (‘Traditional Marmalade’ gets my vote every time).

I was listening to a political podcast recently in which ex-politician Nick Clegg was asked what it was like working in Silicon Valley (he has a top job with Meta). Clegg said that the interesting thing about the Valley was that everything is focussed on the future; because the industry has no past. He contrasted that with the UK where he was of the opinion that some of the Brits from the hard right were so sucked into a mythical image of Great Britain’s past (one that never existed in the form they assumed) that they seem unable to develop any forward-thinking future ambitions; other than turning it into some kind of warped image of a fictional England.

The past is not only ‘a foreign country’ (as L. P Hartley said) but it’s also inclined to be a toxic swamp.

So why, in martial arts, do we give ‘tradition’ so much kudos?

In the martial arts we make an assumption that it’s because the product was tried and tested, like some historical Darwinian quality control exercise. There is one obvious flaw with that idea; the assumption that the process is continued forward in an unbroken line.

The great crucible that was the hundreds of years of Japanese civil wars is a prime example. For the development of martial skills this wasn’t the steady civilised and disciplined refinements found later in the Edo Period, no this was a total meat grinder. (The battle of Sekigahara in 1600 had an estimated body count of 30,000). It was closer to chaos than it was to organised tradition.

What we know of the surviving Koryu (Old School Budo/Bujutsu), the majority of them were developed and coalesced in the later periods of peace, when they had the luxury of evolving their lineage and traditions, uninterrupted by warfare. This doesn’t lessen their fighting ability (unless the lineage is allowed to drift into decay, as has happened), if anything it gave them scope to really refine the skills and imbue them with a greater humanity – which is always paradoxical in martial arts.

The specific case of karate.

Karate as it is consumed in the West (and in Japan) is a modern thing. Can we attach the word ‘tradition’ to something that is so recent?

In Japan it’s classified as ‘Gendai Budo’, 現代武道 ‘Modern Martial Way’. A line is drawn at 1868; in the years before that it’s ‘Koryu’.

Karate jumped from the rural domain of Okinawan to mainland Japan in the 1920’s and underwent many changes; including elements of militarisation, modernisation and westernisation (consider the influence of the Olympic ideas of Baron De Coubertin which spread across Japan). So, although you might talk about the ‘Olympic tradition’, it would be odd to start referring to ‘Traditional Olympics’ because it would sound so retrograde.

Cobra Kai.

To highlight the clash between traditional and new; modern western culture has set up a cartoonish karate model as a framework to attach a storyline to, which began in 1984 with the springboard of the ‘Karate Kid’ movie franchise and has been warmed over like turkey dinner for the streaming platform generation.

For those of you who know it (and those who don’t):

In a nutshell; Cobra Kai = modern progressive karate, American style, strip mall Dojo, all noise and thunder and no morals.

Miyagi Ryu = Old-fashioned (traditional) karate, clear link to a Japanese/Okinawan figurehead, high moral standard, set up as an antidote to the above. Looks a lot like Goju Ryu (deliberately).

Cobra Kai leader, John Kreese, All-American military guy, Mr ‘No Mercy!’, ‘No fear!’ The cinema-going audience know this is ‘black hat, white hat’ stuff, they are supposed to be repelled by this version of ‘modern karate’.

Miyagi Ryu master, Mr Miyagi; unassuming handyman dude, reluctantly acts as karate mentor to teenager Daniel LaRusso. Indeed, for most of the story Daniel is his only student. The writers have fun with Mr Miyagi’s unorthodoxy, e.g. “In Okinawa, belt mean no need rope to hold up pants”. Miyagi is so traditional, he’s beyond traditional.

Cobra Kai is shown as what the west has done to the noble Japanese tradition, not only have they sportified it, they have taken the humanity out of it.

 

 

Crossing the Threshold

At Budo Journeyman, there is an interesting post about the generations of Japanese martial artists who were active as the transition was being made from the traditional classical martial arts (koryu) into modern(ish) budo.

An excerpt is below. The full post may be read here. 

A theory that there was one snapshot in Japanese history that created a uniquely fertile environment for martial art growth. A historical ‘perfect storm’.

I am grateful to my friend Carl O’Malley for prompting this train of thought.

1890’s or early 1900’s Japan. Otsuka Hironori (then known as Otsuka Ko) was just a boy, but he remembered distinctly first-hand experiences of the remnants of the then defunct and disenfranchised samurai class.

In his book he mentions a certain Mr Suzuki Yoshio, who he described as a seventy-five year old samurai; an elderly warrior from a different age, who had been obviously dramatically and suddenly made obsolete and virtually unemployable as a result of the restructuring of Japanese society in the 1868 Meiji Restoration.

Otsuka Ko describes Mr Suzuki’s demeanour; his look of distrust; even a small boy could be seen as a potential threat. Reading between the lines, for me there seems to be more than a hint of toxic hyper-vigilance, as well as a man being out of his time.

Similarly, Otsuka’s mother’s uncle was another elderly relic. Whether he lived with the family or nearby, I don’t know, but Ebashi Chojiro was a retired/redundant martial arts teacher of the Tsuchiura clan, then based in Ibaraki and disestablished in 1871.

Ebashi’s presence in the youngster’s life was not insignificant. I mention this because these characters were on the tail-end of the historical social circumstances that swirled around the young Otsuka and his extended family.

As he was maturing and growing up, Otsuka’s cultural references, his markers of identity, of who he was, where he came from and where he might go to, gives us a picture of an individual pulled in two directions; the historical past and the modernising future.

A personal reflection.

Now, you might say that doesn’t make him unique… because, aren’t we all in the same boat?

If I look at my own situation.

I was born just thirteen years after the end of WW2; my grandparents were Victorians (granny was born in 1888, the year that Jack the Ripper was prowling the streets of Whitechapel) massive generational differences there.

To a lesser degree than Otsuka’s, like everyone from my generation, I think I can also map out my own life into two distinct epochs:

Internet age and Pre-Internet age.

There is nothing insignificant about those two eras and, in a way, I feel fortunate to have experienced both of them.

But, to return to the martial arts theme.

Otsuka and the other Japanese martial artists crossing the eras.

As mentioned, it was Carl O’Malley who proposed the idea that maybe the Japanese martial artists from that particular timeframe had something special that was not available to the later generations.

As a kendoka; he suggested that younger kendo practitioners had only ever known the modern iteration of kendo as a sport. Whereas for those who trained in kendo in the very early 20^th century, it is possible that a large percentage of them had experienced the older forms of kenjutsu, with the blade and the bokken, (not the shinai), and everything that entailed. They would have had Koryu (‘Old School/Tradition’) roots. They were swordsmen first and sporting kendo practitioners second.

Time for some concrete evidence.

First example; Nakayama Hakudō (1872 – 1958).

Here we have a perfect model of a swordsman who bestrode both eras. Look at the years…

Nakayama is cited as started his sword training in a traditional Ryu (Shindō Munen-ryū) in 1891, (this was the school founded in the early 18^th century by Fukui Hyōemon Yoshihira, a man who sharpened his skills through duelling in death matches). But, he was actually learning some aspects of swordsmanship from the age of eleven.

Nakayama’s training in the Old Schools would have been very traditional, but based on the deadly serious business found at the edge of the razor-sharp sword.

Nakayama’s dedication to the sword art inevitably involved the bold move of modernisation and significant revision of the older material through kendo and Iaido. My brief description does him no justice – for a fuller story, follow this link: https://www.budokanworld.com/theforgottenlineage

  

 

 

 

The Aikido of Kyoichi Inoue

Kyoichi Inoue, along with Takashi Kushida, developed the training system that we now recognize as Yoshinkan Aikido. Below is a video of his aikido.

 

 

 

Overview of Different Styles of Taijiquan

At Thoughts on Tai Chi there was a post that provided a nice, concise overview of the different major styles of Taijiquan. An excerpt is below. The full post may be read here.

 

Here is a brief guide to the different styles of Tai Chi Chuan. There are five main styles, five big ones and then there are also a whole bunch of several lesser popular arts. Some of the smaller ones have quite a big amount of followers as well. Here I will list 8 of those smaller Tai Chi schools that are reasonable enough to call individual styles. This means that a total of 13 (!) different Tai Chi styles will be discussed here.

Off springs and variations that belong mainly to any of the larger schools as Cheng Man Ching’s Yang and Dan Docherty’s Wudang Practical Tai Chi Chuan (Wudang PTTC) are not considered. here. But if we were to actually add every school with decent popularity, we would probably get a list of well more than 20 schools.

(Also: Please, don’t get offended by my intentional ironic and disrespectful tone in this post.)

The five main Tai Chi styles

The five big traditional styles are:

• Chen Style
• Yang Style
• Wu Style
• Wu (Hao) Style
• Sun Style

The Tai Chi styles of Chen, Yang, Wu, Wu (Has) and Sun are all recognized, well known and has many practitioners throughout China and the whole World.

Chen Style Taijiquan

Chen style is said by Chen stylists to be the oldest of the modern Tai Chi styles found today or the original art of Tai Chi, something that is usually accepted by Yang stylists as Yang style creator Yang Luchan admitted that he had studied with the Chen family. In the first half of the 20th century it was suddenly decided by the government that Chen Wangting (1580-1660) should be regarded as the inventor of the whole art of Tai Chi Chuan, a person suddenly discovered, that no Chen Tai Chi master knew anything about and no one had mentioned anytime before in any text about Tai Chi Chuan. Chen style was later popularised in the 20th century by Chen Fake (1887-1957) who was very upset and got revengeful when other Tai Chi masters told him that what he was doing was Shaolin and not Tai Chi.

Chen style has both slow and fast movements, often performed with sudden outbursts of “fajin”. It also has Shaolin movements not found in any other of the five main styles so that other stylists often says that Chen Style is just Yang Style with Shaolin stuff infused.

The main idea of body mechanics in Chen style is summarized into “spiraling silk reeling” where spiral movements are initiated from the belly area and connected throughout the whole body.

There are several big popular formal and informal lineages and traditions in Chen, As “the Village style” represented by Chen Xiaowang, “the Beijing style” represented by people as Chen Yu and Chen Practical Method lead by Chen Zhonghua. And “Chen Small Frame” is usually practiced in other lesser well known lineages.

Pros
Maybe the easiest style for development of strength and power.

Cons
Might be harder to and take longer time to develop calmness and deep relaxation compared to the other five big ones.

Chen Style Taijiquan is recommended for:
Anyone who wants to keep fit and healthy and everyone who wants to study a smart and very powerful martial art.

Yang Style Taijiquan

When people think about Yang style Tai Chi, they mostly think about slow, large movements performed in an even pace. Large frame Yang Style was created by “The Invincible” Yang Luchan (1799-1872) who killed a younger female relative with his spear when practicing. This style was wildly popularised as a health exercise by his illiterate grandson Yang Chengfu (1883-1836) who sold his name to a ghost writer for a book and got really obese and died young by eating way too much.

Yang Style is the most popular Tai Chi style, widespread “all over the globe” (citing Flateartherners expression of the popularity of their own movement), much due to several lightweight watered down versions with shorter and less demanding forms. Those are taught rather fast with little attention to detail. In the middle of the nineties for instance, going to Beijing to learn the 24 form in a few weeks and teach it in the west was rather popular. But fortunately the traditional Yang long form variations are very popular as well, and many practice it as a complete martial art.

Don’t be fooled by the calm, harmonious movements. Yang Stylists can be pretty good fighters and like to toss their opponents far away rather than offering a good punch, something that is mostly given to and restricted for the stupid ones who tries to attack them again.

There are also several off-springs and sub-styles of Yang Style as Cheng Manching’s version and Dong Style, sometimes recognised as an individual Tai Chi styles. A school as Erle Montaigue’s Tai Chi organisation claim that they do the “Old Yang style” from Yang Luchan.

Pros
Quite easy to find somewhat good traditional teachers and very easy to find teachers from various health only variations.

Cons
Hard to find people who teach anything similar to power generation for punches and other finishing methods necessary in any complete martial art.

Yang Style Taijiquan is recommended for:
Anyone and everyone on this planet without exceptions.

Wu Style Taijiquan (Quanyou/Jianquan)

Wu style is characterized by large movements performed with whole body leaning, something many Yang stylists say is wrong and contradicts basic Tai Chi principles. Wu Quanyou (1834-1902) was one of Yang Luchan’s students but became a disciple of Yang Banhou, and Wu Jianquan was his son and taught it publicly. Wu Jianquan was also one of those guys who popularized Tai Chi for the big masses together with Yang Chengfu.

One modern branch is called Wudang Practical Tai Chi Chuan created by Dan Docherty and focuses a lot on no-nonsense combat and realistic self-defence applications.

Cons
You’ll be hearing all of the time from people from other styles about how wrong you do things.

Pro
Has everything that Yang Style has, is seldom as watered down as much, and much easier to find good traditional teachers.