What a week!

What a couple of weeks it’s been! I’ve been running around at work like my hair (what’s left) is on fire. That and visitors, and meetings, and presentations to prepare, and more local travel. Whew! The worst is behind me for the moment, and it’s back to what passes for normal.

In spite of my best intentions to really work the supplementary exercises of the Wu family style of Taijiquan into my daily doings, I find that the real center of gravity for my personal practice is the 108 Standard form.

When it comes to working on the 108 Standard form, there is practice and also performance. What we would do in class as a group, when we all do the form together is what I am referring to as performance. Breaking the form down, trying to get every small piece of it technically correct is what I’m referring to as practice.

Up until I got back from Japan, when I tended to do is to run through the form once as a performance with the intention of working in the refinements I’ve been taught in the appropriate places. While I try to get each movement right as I go along, my emphasis had been on relaxation, alignment, and pacing.

What I’ve been up to lately, is to just slow down, and break each sequence down. I try to remember and implement every refinement I’ve been given, and work it into my movements. Yes I still put a premium on staying relaxed, because that’s a requirement of getting the movements right, as is alignment. I’ve been leaving the pacing for when I’m in class.

As a result, my form has not only improved, but I’m finding my ability to maintain the same pace as the rest of the class has improved as well.

I’ve also recently been introduced to the 4th of 12 forms of push hands practice that the Wu family teaches. You always are supposed to begin with #1, which is the most basic, and work your way through to #12, which I think is free style.

Even though I only get to practice push hands for maybe 20 or 30 minutes, about once a week (we practice push hands in class most of the time, but not always), I’m getting better at it.

My older daughter is still unemployed and very frustrated in finding work in her field. I still can’t fault her efforts. She usually makes it to the last round of call backs. She’s sending out tons of resumes, and applying on line all over the place.

For my youngest, high school volleyball season is just starting. They will have a very competitive team. All things being equal, they should go deep into the playoffs for the state championship. Several schools are looking at her to play volleyball in college. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that we can find a good fit for her so she can continue to play at the next level without compromising her education.

My associate M.E. Hom of Collaboration360 Consultants [collaboration360.blogspot.com] recently developed a "Strategic Assessment" process that is based on the strategy principles of Sun Tzu's Art of War. Its general approach enables the implementers to use it in any situation.

Half of the game is being able to take stock of the situation around you. Once you really understand your resources, limitations, and can define the problem, you’re half way home in finding a solution. But how?

Sun Tzu said that the general goes into the temple and makes his assessment, then goes on to outline some of the major factors the general must take into account. Well said, but most of us mortals could use a little more guidance. That is where this Strategic Assessment process comes into play.This is the first time that I have ever seen Sun Tzu principles organized in a way that makes sense to a normal person. Take a look and see if this process doesn’t help you get a handle on some of the issues in your life that you’d like to develop a strategy to tackle.

Budo Training

Below are excerpts from a very good article on Budo training. To read the whole article click on the title of this post.

Noticing requires no time and no thought. It is immediate.

The problem is that the clouded mind fails to notice that it has noticed and this is why so many warriors seek ways to the purification of the body-mind instrument, often referred to as enlightenment.

Training is not a pseudo-intellectual process, but a living, kinesthetic and complete process. This can be uncomfortable for beginners or the complacent. To progress, this pain has to be met. Frontally and full on.

The greatest secret is action. The next is noticing action. And whilst watching someone else work can be fascinating, the only way to walk in the shoes of the worker and attain the skill, is to do so. Do the work. Not once or twice but thousands upon thousands of time until the errors cannot be perceived by others but you know that there is still work to be done.

Instant gratification is a toxic and false belief. There are no short-cuts. Mystical mumbo-jumbo is fun in the movies for kids, but in the real universe everything has a price.

Mastery of true skill requires work. Lots of it and there is no way around this. Nothing changes without attrition. Evolution fine tunes through reduction by paring away the superfluous excrescences which have no value.

In other words to notice truly, you first have to approximate what you are noticing, become it through fire in the belly, intense desire backed up by real effort until every effort becomes ordinary and even effortless, because you are no longer wasting an atom of energy fighting yourself. Such would constitute the physical, mental and psychological purification: Misogi, required to directly apprehend the moment at each instant, with all its potentials, variables, nuances and possibilities, which then change in the next instant, without the mind dragging.

* Mitori-geiko, a noun, translates as: Learning and progressing by watching the keiko of others, and evaluating the strong and weak points of their example. Receiving with the eyes the style and technique of an advanced practitioner usually Budo but applies to everything that can ascend skill levels.

Whatever the Budo or skill, it is wise to sit quietly on the side just watching the training.

Basically there are three parts to practice or geiko.

1/ Mitori geiko - receiving with the eyes the style and technique of an advanced practitioner.

2/ Kufu geiko - learning and keeping in mind the details of the technique through contemplation and mental visualization.

And;

3/ Kazu geiko - repetition through which the technique as personified in one’s own art.

All three are essential to all training. Scientific research confirms that watching an activity in which you are trained, activates the neuro-muscular pathways involved and reinforces functional skill.

Getting in the Way

Below is an excerpt from a martial arts blog entitled Bujutsu Blogger on how our ego gets in the way of our achieving excellence in our training. One of the ways our ego manifests itself is that we want to see the world the way we want to it to be, not accepting how it actually is.

If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed to the full post. Please pay a visit.

The only way forward is “muga” (無我), no ego, and "mushin" (無心), no-mind. Snaggy likes to talk about that a lot, and I am starting to see why. As he puts it, ego gets in the way of living in the moment, in the now. Without muga mushin, there can be no refinement because things like rushing will always get in the way. This is not abstract Zen philosophy, this is the difference between going through the motions and training to fight.

Speaking of accepting the world how it is, the remarkable Randy Pausch died today. He was the author of the best selling The Last Lecture, which was based on a Youtube video with the same title. He made a real contribution.

For myself, my next post will be from Japan. I am leaving in a couple of days. Besides taking a lot of Japanese language material with me, articles I've printed out that I've been meaning to read, and I have the newest issues of National Geographic and the Smithsonian. I also brought a couple of books. One is Shogun by James Clavell, and the other is The Nobility of Failure, by Ivan Morris.

I'll be working on my presentation material on the plane (a 13 hour flight!) until my battery dies. I'm thinking of opening my presentation with:

"Detroit kara tobimashita, shoshite ude wa tsukaremashita yo!"

"I flew in from Detroit and boy are my arms tired!"

Being a Teacher

No, not me! I'm not a teacher and I don't play one on tv. This is a guest article by Jennifer at the Bushido Code Club.

There is also a link over at the right. Please pay a visit.

Being a teacher

Being a teacher means more than just teaching others things you already know.

Being a teacher actually means showing someone his own ability to learn, reminding him of what he might forgot already. Reminding him his own power.

Teaching someone especially when it comes to spiritual teaching and in the end everything is spiritual is all about showing someone his own strengths, I even like to think about it sometimes as the art of showing someone else he is a master too but has forgotten about it.

When you show someone else his divinity he would stop at nothing, no training would be too hard and no other person would be able to stop him from growing. In a sense a good teacher functions like a channel, a clear one, a channel between the personality of a person and the way he thinks of himself and his eternal self. Being the master is just being able to show people who they really are.

They are masters too and if the master is true to himself and his calling all is needed in many cases is the presence of the student for the miracle to happen.

It is more than inspiration it is the ability to look at the master and see yourself as you can be as you once have been and when you see yourself in the master you'll never think of yourself as week, powerless or unworthy again.

Written by Jenifer from the Bushido Code Club blog at www.bushidocodeclub.com/blogs

Motion Research on Martial Arts

I came across this article and video clip on a mailing list I belong to. The article is about a motion research study done on a master of the martial arts of taijiquan and bajiquan. It was accompanied by the following video clip.

Stanford researchers record 'optimalforce' of tai chi master
By S.L. Wykes
Mercury NewsArticle Launched: 05/03/2007 01:33:41 AM PDT

Tai chi master Chen Xiang performs tai chi movements while a motion analysis test is beingconducted at the Motion and Gait Analysis Laboratory in Palo Alto on April 30, 2007.(Joanne Ho-Young Lee/Mercury News.Jessica Rose, an orthopedic surgery professor at Stanford, could not believeher eyes. Tai chi master Chen Xiang, sensor balls taped to key body joints, wasdemonstrating palm, elbow and fist strikes so fast - and with such force - thatthe sensors kept flying off his body. And then she glanced at her computerscreen, where Chen's movements were mirrored by an animated stick figure.Like a light-footed dancing skeleton, the figure's grace was undeniable. Andfrightening. The explosive power of the strikes was stunning - 400 pounds offorce generated by Chen's body accelerating from 0 mph to 60 mph in 2.8seconds - faster than any Lamborghini out on the street. This level of powerwas a first for her lab. It's also just plain unusual.

Yoshinkan Aikido

Year ago, I studied Yoshinkai Aikido; that is, the Yoshinkan Aikido as taught by Takeshi Kushida, 8th Dan. Since that time, Kushida Sensei and the Yoshinkan organization have gone their different ways. If you click here, you’ll be directed to Kushida Sensei’s organization, where you’ll find some video clips.

Yoshinkan was one of the earliest incarnations of aikido taught by a student of the founder of aikido, Morihei Ueshiba. Gozo Shioda studied under Ueshiba in back in the 30’s, and founded the Yoshinkan dojo, which has evolved into it’s own substyle of aikido. Yoshinkan remains closely aligned in technique with Daito Ryu Aikijujutsu, the art that Ueshiba studied which became the foundation of his Aikido. Aikido is the child of Daito Ryu Aikijujutsu.

Here is a video clip which is a short documentary on Yoshinkan Aikido. The original post on YouTube page is here.

Enjoy.

The Original Intent of Judo

If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed to an interview with an early British student of Judo, who learned from the founder of Judo, Jigoro Kano. I've excerpted a portion below.

Trevor Pryce Leggett; Physical Education, Judo, and Kano's Original Intention. An interview conducted October 6, 1999 with the assistance of Richard "Dicky" Bowen.

"The future of Budo is in response." -T.P. Leggett-

While in London I was able to visit with Britain's senior Judoka, Trevor Leggett. With his eighty-five years stretching through Judo, Buddhism, Education, Language and Psychology in many ways he is a Renaissance man. His many books on both Judo and Buddhism have been the gate for several generations of readers to enter Asia. Quick to get to the point he said he preferred the interview to focus on things important to him rather than on himself. So it was.

He recalled how at the age of seventeen, hearing Kano lecture on Judo. "Judo for life not competition" was his message. Leggett recalled how even in old age Kano stood straight with impeccable "shinzen hontai" or balanced posture. In Leggett's book on Judo kata Kano is pictured with the same posture demonstrating the Ju No Kata, or kata of ideal movements. "Even better than his younger partner" says Leggett. Leggett continued, "Kano did not want Judo in the Olympics. Yes, he had an interest in the Olympics but this was not to do with entering it. Judo has been destroyed by competition. Kano said it was "Maximum efficiency leading to mutual aid and understanding" The animal movements of a man controlled by a ritualized activity which in turn becomes friendship and understanding. The understanding gained on the judo mats is then extended to business and into interpersonal relationships and into life generally. Judo was not supposed to become a political arena.

Kano said, that to try to force through one's point of view by stressing advantages of wealth, of strength, or political advantage may overcome the opposition for the moment but the opponent is not really convinced, he has to be convinced by calm reasoning. With Judo protocol and courtesies to keep the animal aspect in check wedded to a vigorous physical exchange, Judo can cut through class and cultural differences to create a comradery of friendship. The ritual of bowing, particularly the kneeling bow, is part of this development. The emphasis on cleanliness is also part of this. Walking down a dirty, smelly hall does not do one any good.

Modern Judo has done away with these ideas and abandoned the intent of Kano. This along with the overemphasis on competition has morally and technically bankrupted Judo. It was not intended as a sport for an audience to watch, it was a practice to be participated in. The cleanliness, the order, the ritual courtesies led by a good teacher - this was the path Kano taught. This creates understanding with accompanying technical proficiency.

One tough medical student who practiced randori with me would say, "Thank you" after I threw him and "Excuse me" after he threw me! Initially I did not understand his pedantic adherence to saying this over and over. Then I realized. It was his way of checking himself and his own temper. This is what allowed him to maintain his own self observation and discipline.

And this is not unique to the Japanese. The old aristocratic British after the French Revolution took up boxing so they could settle scores without the authority of the sword (which characterized the French way). The story of Squire Smith shows this. Squire Smith tied his horse up to go in a shop and a cartman pushed it aside. The Squire emerged from the shop catching him and they had a fight. They were separated by the police but the carter went home wondering whether the Squire, his landlord, would have him thrown out of his house. Instead the cartman received a handerchief from the Squire. When he opened it he saw two golden coins and a note which read, "That was the best fight I've had in many years!" Empty hand combat can transmute into friendship. But this cannot happen with a sword.

I asked Leggett for his views on physical education and his comment was, "They need to get away from ball games. Life is not a ball that you can throw and kick and steer. These ball games require too much space and have no relevance to life. On the other hand if they taught Kendo, or Judo, or some sort of stick-fighting - that is something that teaches economy, posture and timing. These are traits used in life and can also give one a way to defend oneself.

Judo for instance teaches you how to use the body and movement in changing furniture around! Exercises from Judo and other martial arts, like Shaolin, you can do everyday with minimal space. They are good for you and have utility in life. The one ball game I believe is the exception is golf because it favours experience and spans age groups. At sixty-five I could still play golf against young men in their twenties and win. Admittedly as a trained judoman I could retain balance well into age. But still it required too much space and most cannot do it everyday. For some time I had a ball on a string hanging from the doorway and a small wooden sword. I would hit the ball with the small sword and try to hit it again and again while it swung from each hit. It develops timing and responsiveness.

Aikido Ballet

If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed to the video at YouTube. Turn up the volume.

A Clear Mind

A friend sent me these articles. I usually just post an excerpt, but this is short and very very good. Note that the links to the original articles at the New York Times will be found at the end of each one.

These two articles both describe interesting aspects of the mind, which applies equally to martial arts, zen, daoism, ... you name it. Enjoy.

Pitching With Purpose

By DAVID BROOKS

A few years ago, a former professional baseball player mentioned a book that had made a great impression on him. It was called “The Mental ABC’s of Pitching,” by a sports psychologist named H.A. Dorfman. I read the book one spare evening, though, as you may have noticed, I’m not a pitcher — and no major league organization has expressed interest in making me one.

The book left an impression on me too, mostly for its moral tone. Dorfman offers to liberate people from what you might call the tyranny of the scattered mind. He offers to take pitchers, who may be thinking about a thousand and one things up on the mound, and give them mental discipline.

Others are eloquent about courage and creativity, but Dorfman is fervent about discipline. In the book’s only lyrical passage, he writes: “Self-discipline is a form of freedom. Freedom from laziness and lethargy, freedom from expectations and demands of others, freedom from weakness and fear — and doubt.”

His assumption seems to be that you can’t just urge someone to be disciplined; you have to build a structure of behavior and attitude. Behavior shapes thought. If a player disciplines his behavior, then he will also discipline his mind.

Dorfman builds that structure on the repetitiousness of baseball. It’s commonly said that it takes 10,000 hours of practice to master any craft — three hours of practice every day for 10 years. Dorfman assumes that players would have already put in those hours doing drills and repetitions. He urges them to adopt their own pregame rituals. He notes that Trevor Hoffman, the San Diego Padres closer, walks from the clubhouse to the dugout every game in the fourth inning and moves to the bullpen in the seventh.

As a pitcher enters a game, Dorfman continues, he should bring a relentlessly assertive mind-set. He should plan on attacking the strike zone early in the count, and never letting up. He will not nibble at the strike zone or try to throw the ball around hitters. He will invite contact. Even when the count is zero balls and two strikes, he will not alter his emotional tone by wasting a pitch out of the strike zone.

Just as a bike is better balanced when it is going forward, a pitcher’s mind is better balanced when it is unceasingly aggressive. If a pitcher doesn’t actually feel this way when he enters a game, Dorfman asks him to pretend. If your body impersonates an attitude long enough, then the mind begins to adopt it.

Dorfman then structures the geography of the workplace. There are two locales in a pitcher’s universe — on the mound and off the mound. Off the mound is for thinking about the past and future, on the mound is for thinking about the present. When a pitcher is on the pitching rubber, Dorfman writes, he should only think about three things: pitch selection, pitch location and the catcher’s glove, his target. If he finds himself thinking about something else, he should step off the rubber.

Dorfman has various breathing rituals he endorses, but his main focus during competition is to get his pitchers thinking simple and small. A pitcher is defined, he writes, “by the way the ball leaves his hand.” Everything else is extraneous.

In Dorfman’s description of pitching, batters barely exist. They are vague, generic abstractions that hover out there in the land beyond the pitcher’s control. A pitcher shouldn’t judge himself by how the batters hit his pitches, but instead by whether he threw the pitch he wanted to throw.

Dorfman once approached Greg Maddux after a game and asked him how it went. Maddux said simply: “Fifty out of 73.” He’d thrown 73 pitches and executed 50. Nothing else was relevant.

A baseball game is a spectacle, with a thousand points of interest. But Dorfman reduces it all to a series of simple tasks. The pitcher’s personality isn’t at the center. His talent isn’t at the center. The task is at the center.

By putting the task at the center, Dorfman illuminates the way the body and the mind communicate with each other. Once there were intellectuals who thought the mind existed above the body, but that’s been blown away by evidence. In fact, it’s easiest to change the mind by changing behavior, and that’s probably as true in the office as on the mound.

And by putting the task at the center, Dorfman helps the pitcher quiet the self. He pushes the pitcher’s thoughts away from his own qualities — his expectations, his nerve, his ego — and helps the pitcher lose himself in the job.

Not long ago, Americans saw the rise of a therapeutic culture that placed great emphasis on self-discovery, self-awareness and self-expression. But somehow the tide seems to have turned from the worship of self, and today’s message is: transcend yourself in your job — or get shelled.

A fitting reminder from opening day.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/01/opinion/01brooks.html

Tighten Your Belt, Strengthen Your Mind

By SANDRA AAMODT and SAM WANG

DECLINING house prices, rising job layoffs, skyrocketing oil costs and a major credit crunch have brought consumer confidence to its lowest point in five years. With a relatively long recession looking increasingly likely, many American families may be planning to tighten their belts.

Interestingly, restraining our consumer spending, in the short term, may cause us to actually loosen the belts around our waists. What’s the connection? The brain has a limited capacity for self-regulation, so exerting willpower in one area often leads to backsliding in others. The good news, however, is that practice increases willpower capacity, so that in the long run, buying less now may improve our ability to achieve future goals — like losing those 10 pounds we gained when we weren’t out shopping.

The brain’s store of willpower is depleted when people control their thoughts, feelings or impulses, or when they modify their behavior in pursuit of goals. Psychologist Roy Baumeister and others have found that people who successfully accomplish one task requiring self-control are less persistent on a second, seemingly unrelated task.

In one pioneering study, some people were asked to eat radishes while others received freshly baked chocolate chip cookies before trying to solve an impossible puzzle. The radish-eaters abandoned the puzzle in eight minutes on average, working less than half as long as people who got cookies or those who were excused from eating radishes. Similarly, people who were asked to circle every “e” on a page of text then showed less persistence in watching a video of an unchanging table and wall.

Other activities that deplete willpower include resisting food or drink, suppressing emotional responses, restraining aggressive or sexual impulses, taking exams and trying to impress someone. Task persistence is also reduced when people are stressed or tired from exertion or lack of sleep.

What limits willpower? Some have suggested that it is blood sugar, which brain cells use as their main energy source and cannot do without for even a few minutes. Most cognitive functions are unaffected by minor blood sugar fluctuations over the course of a day, but planning and self-control are sensitive to such small changes. Exerting self-control lowers blood sugar, which reduces the capacity for further self-control. People who drink a glass of lemonade between completing one task requiring self-control and beginning a second one perform equally well on both tasks, while people who drink sugarless diet lemonade make more errors on the second task than on the first. Foods that persistently elevate blood sugar, like those containing protein or complex carbohydrates, might enhance willpower for longer periods.

In the short term, you should spend your limited willpower budget wisely. For example, if you do not want to drink too much at a party, then on the way to the festivities, you should not deplete your willpower by window shopping for items you cannot afford. Taking an alternative route to avoid passing the store would be a better strategy.

On the other hand, if you need to study for a big exam, it might be smart to let the housecleaning slide to conserve your willpower for the more important job. Similarly, it can be counterproductive to work toward multiple goals at the same time if your willpower cannot cover all the efforts that are required. Concentrating your effort on one or at most a few goals at a time increases the odds of success.

Focusing on success is important because willpower can grow in the long term. Like a muscle, willpower seems to become stronger with use. The idea of exercising willpower is seen in military boot camp, where recruits are trained to overcome one challenge after another.

In psychological studies, even something as simple as using your nondominant hand to brush your teeth for two weeks can increase willpower capacity. People who stick to an exercise program for two months report reducing their impulsive spending, junk food intake, alcohol use and smoking. They also study more, watch less television and do more housework. Other forms of willpower training, like money-management classes, work as well.

No one knows why willpower can grow with practice but it must reflect some biological change in the brain. Perhaps neurons in the frontal cortex, which is responsible for planning behavior, or in the anterior cingulate cortex, which is associated with cognitive control, use blood sugar more efficiently after repeated challenges. Or maybe one of the chemical messengers that neurons use to communicate with one another is produced in larger quantities after it has been used up repeatedly, thereby improving the brain’s willpower capacity.

Whatever the explanation, consistently doing any activity that requires self-control seems to increase willpower — and the ability to resist impulses and delay gratification is highly associated with success in life.

Sandra Aamodt, the editor in chief of Nature Neuroscience, and Sam Wang, an associate professor of molecular biology and neuroscience at Princeton, are the authors of “Welcome to Your Brain: Why You Lose Your Car Keys but Never Forget How to Drive and Other Puzzles of Everyday Life.”

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/02/opinion/02aamodt.html

Austere Training

You will sometimes encounter in martial arts training, something which the Japanese refer to as Shuugyou Renshuu, or austere training. In Kyokushinkai karate, for example, they have the famous 100 man kumite. In this type of event, the participant will fight 100 full contact rounds, consecutively against fresh opponents. The founder of Kyokushin, Mas Oyama, was known to go an an annual retreat to the mountains where he would do nothing but practice meditation and karate for months on end. Below is an excerpt from an article on austere training as practiced in a modern day dojo. If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed to the full article.

Shugyo Renshu by Nathan Scott

Shugyo (修行) may be defined literally as "conducting oneself in a way that inspires mastery". While the meaning of the kanji used in "shu" was originally translated as 'using a brush to strike away the dust that obscures the viewing of a persons original elegance', the combined kanji of "shu" and "gyo" (carrying out, walking along) is now generally translated as simply "severe or austere training". The kanji rendered for this version of "shugyo" is most commonly associated with Buddhist asceticism, and most notably, the "shugenja" (修験者, ascetic mountain-dwelling monks).

In addition to ascetic Buddhism, the act of shugyo can be applied to any serious endeavor or "michi" (path). For example, the term "musha shugyo" (武者 修行, an exponent of martial [arts] conducting themselves in a way that inspires mastery) refers to a "knight-errantry" tour, a practice of travelling around the country in order to train and test their martial skills that was followed by many serious budo-ka of pre-Meiji Japan (and to a lesser degree post-Meiji). The kanji used in the term "shushi" (修士, master) also combines the same shu character with the character for "man" (alternately read as "samurai"). The implication of this kanji combination is that the person, and perhaps only the person, that follows the way of austere training can obtain the skill level of a "master".

A related term worth mentioning is "kugyo" (苦行), which translates literally as "carrying on while suffering", and is understood functionally as referring to asceticism, penance, or mortification.

In centuries past, shugyo were periods of time where the adherent (usually certain types of monks or warriors) would submit themselves to extreme conditions - mentally, spiritually and physically, in order to achieve certain enhanced or enlightening experiences. This was viewed as an important forging process that, among other things, taught one what their actual limitations were; or more appropriately, what their lack of limitations were.

There are several well known shugyo-sha (修行者, practitioner of austerities) that are known to have followed such severe training in more recent years. The famous Karate-ka Mas Oyama was known for his long periods of mountain training.

Tesshu Yamaoka was one of Japan's most famous and interesting swordsmen. Tesshu was influenced by Zen, and eventually founded his own tradition called "Itto seiden muto ryu" (the tradition of no-sword), perhaps partially in reaction to the dissolve of the warrior class in 1868. Though he was also an exceptional artist, and created over a million pieces of calligraphy in his lifetime, he gave money to others his entire life and died a poor man.

It is said that Tesshu required his disciples to follow a progressively strenous physical trial, that would have been considered brutal even in his own time:

1st stage - Two day commitment to engage in two hundred contests per day, alone, and without stopping against twenty opponents who are permitted to rest and attack in rotation. Prior to committing to the 1st stage, the disciple had to carry out the training for 1000 days without fail.

2nd stage - Three day commitment - same as above.

3rd stage - Seven day commitment - same as above.

4th stage - One thousand days training without stopping, from 4am to 8pm each day, competing against one hundred opponents per da

Wu Style 54 Round Competition Form

Iv'e mentioned the 54 Form a few times. If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed to a YouTube video of Sifu Eddie Wu doing a section of the 54 Round Form.

Wu Style Sword

A friend send me a link to an interesting blog. The blog is The Wu Sword Project.

The blog chronicles the efforts of some of the students of Wu Kwong Yu to find "the perfect sword," They weren't interested in the flashy tin WuShu swords. They were looking for the real thing.

Their research led them to investigate the modern day manufacture of combat worthy swords, and to identify and meet the remaining sword makers. It's a very interesting read.

If you are interested in weaponry, you might also want to look at The Sword Forum. The Sword Forum is a place for the discussion of both Eastern and Western variety of weaponry. It's well worth a look as well.

The "Dao" in Dojo

Below is an excerpt from an article at FightingArts.com by a very senior teacher of classical Japanese martial arts, Dave Lowry. If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed to the whole article.

What Puts the “Tao” in the Dojo?

Part 1

By Dave Lowry

Editor’s Note: This is first of a two part article. Part 1 discusses the design and structure of the traditional martial arts dojo and relates it to traditional etiquette and its meaning. Part 2, delves into the hidden Taoist symbolism and additional meaning found embedded within the same dojo layout.

Like practitioners of any Japanese art or way, aikidoka are not into there discipline for long before they discover that what is visible, readily observed, or easy to understand is like the proverbial tip of the iceberg. Inevitably, concealed beneath the surface, are profundities of the sort never even guessed at by the casual observer or the uninitiated.

The deeper meaning beneath the superficial is a recurrent theme in traditional Japanese culture. In the art of garden design, it is actually given a name, hiegakure, which means "that hidden from ordinary sight." The average shlub strolls through a Japanese garden gawking at the sights, entirely unaware of the paths beneath his feet. To the connoisseur, however, these same paths offer a lifetime of study and appreciation. Here the paths are smooth, hurrying one along. There, the stones are rough, irregular, or stepped, causing the visitor to slow down, something planned by the garden's designer, who may have wanted visitors to pause at a certain point.

The concept of hiegakure can be applied to budo (the martial Ways). To the beginner for example, shomen uchi ikkyo begins with a chopping motion which is countered by an arm twist. To the expert, the same strike and counter are wonderfully complex positive energies that exemplify the essence of the universe.

The dichotomy of the obvious and the subtle can be found (or missed), not only in the arts practiced in the dojo, but also in the setup of the dojo (the training hall) itself.

Understandably the cultural model unconsciously adopted by contemporary Western budo practitioner in creating a dojo is that of the gym--a reasonable model, since on the surface the budo represent physical activity. On a deeper level, though, as most of us know, the martial Ways of Japan are most intimately concerned with matters of the spirit. Therefore, while the dojo may resemble a gymnasium, its historical inspiration is that of a temple or shrine.

Walk into a gym-type dojo, and there will be little aside perhaps from a carelessly fashioned shomen ("ritual alcove"), to distinguish it from an aerobics classroom. I remember visiting an aikido dojo in which the toilets and dressing rooms were actually behind the shomen or "front" wall, which is supposed to be the most honored and respected part of the training area. (Was it just coincidence that this dojo was the coldest, most unfriendly place I've ever practiced at?)

Arranged along the lines of a building meant for spiritual or religious exercises, the traditional dojo is divided geometrically into a complex matrix.

The shomen is the dojo's front wall--the wall on which the kamiza, or dojo shrine, sits. Opposite is the shimoza wall, where the dojo entrance is located. To the right is the joseki (the "upper lateral wall"); to the left, the shimoseki or lower side wall.

Traditionally, there is an elevated shinden space against the kamiza wall --a space where once the headmaster of the art being studied would sit as would any members of the Japanese imperial family who might drop by. This is, therefore, a largely symbolic elevated space reserved only for the founder of the ryu ("style") or an imperial family member. (Recently, the American planners of a dojo in a Japanese-American community center decided to make the shinden "stage" bigger in order to "go one better than traditional floor plans." A competent martial arts practitioner on a planning committee pointed out the mistake and explained what a kamiza meant to the architects before the dojo was built.

When class begins, dojo members align themselves in order of seniority from joseki to shimoseki. Also, in a traditional dojo, senior practitioners will stay to the right of the dojo's centerline, nearer the joseki, when training. Juniors train on the other, shimoseki side. The receiver of a technique will most often position himself with his back to the kamiza while the nage or shidachi begins facing it.

Traditional etiquette also specifies such details as the appropriate foot with which to begin approaching or leaving the kamiza and the direction to turn first in moving about the training area.

Prepare to Die

No, I'm not quoting The Princess Bride, a terribly funny movie with some of the best fencing to be found in a modern movie; and one of the few instances of where the movie outshines the original book.

A martial art is about fighting and there's no denying that. Even if your whole practice is based on a health practice, you can't forget that your martial art was based on the struggle of life and death.

Below is an excerpt from an article at the Aikido World Journal. If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed to the whole article. It is thought provoking and well worth reading.

Life and Death

About 20 years ago, I remember Mitsugi Saotome, Shihan said in an Aikido class here in Chicago:

Budo prepares you how to die ...

Hearing him say this on the mat I was intrigued to know more of this interesting perspective. I recall that my sinuses suddenly cleared in spite of the hay fever season and I listened very intently. Budo is the preparation for death. But in learning how to die, you learn how to live, respect, and appreciate life. Martial arts is combat, and there are only two options: survive and live on ... or die.

To press further, some people shun the martial art aspect of Aikido. While there are many that wish Aikido to a be a peaceful and beautiful recreational activity, it is my belief currently at this stage of my life that to fully understand Aikido is to accept it in its totality. To deny Aikido its martial arts side is to disrespect Aikido itself.

To try to dissect Aikido from its martial arts or Daito-ryu roots is to ignore the meaning of Aikido. It is a martial art --- a form of combat. And to study both aspects, should not depreciate Aikido but rather add to its understanding and meaning, in pursuit of serious study. To do this you must indulge in what made Aikido work and what essences it took on during it's evolution to Aikido.

In the case of refusing to recognize the "martial" of Aikido, we can look at different aspects of life to find out why doing so is so very much a hypocitical stand for those that say they are Aikidoists and practice Aikido. For instance, just because someone doesn't like the way the rind of the orange tastes, doesn't mean you throw away or forsake eating the orange itself. There is always something to learn from the things that one is more apt to avoid and dislike immensely. In our culture, we like to dissect things. We dissect thoughts and all sorts of things into two classes: things we like and are comfortable with ... and those things we don't understand, dislike and fear. We dissect animals too, but when we do ... we kill them at the same time, by doing so. It is much the same when we try to take off the "martial" from Aikido --- we take away its life and meaning.

In life, it is not unnatural for the female wolf to fight to protect her young. Furthermore, when an animal is cornered, normally it will not submit with its underside upwards but will attack with its last breath of life. Even the most smallest of animals will display this type of behavior. I have seen it rats and dogs. This is purposeful combat, meant for survival and the preservation of life.

Sometimes in learning how to fight and kill, you discover how important and fragile life really is. Unfortunately, there is no better lesson to this unless you have witnessed someone being hurt or abused, murdered, or have watched someone pass away in front of your eyes as a result of an accident. It is good to feel remorse, regret, and sadness. It brings you that much closer to appreciating life, nature and all living things. Death is as much a part of living --- as life is as much a part of death. They are diametrically opposed, but yet ... are so very much dependent upon one another. Without death, we would not appreciate life. We would not grieve. We would not have regrets at death. We would not have deep compassion for living without death as a reference, and visa-versa. They both compliment one another.

Free Yiquan eBook

If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed to a website entitled J.P.Lau's YiQuan Research. There you will find a free eBook on Yiquan available for download.

The author says right up front that this book is no substitution for live instruction. At around 300 pages, however, it looks like a very thorough overview of the training methods and aims of Yiquan.

Mr. Lau is a student of Yao Cheng Rong, whose father was the named the successor of the founder of Yiquan, Wang Xiang Zhai.

If you have any interest at all in this martial art, the book is well worth checking out.

Ma-ai: The Importance of Distance

Ma-ai (間合い) which is translated as "Distance" or "Interval" is a very important concept in Japanese martial arts. Below is an article from the Aikido Journal on this topic. If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed to the whole article. Enjoy.

Maai

by Diane Skoss

My cousin, who runs a karate school in San Jose, California, says that the one who controls the distance in an encounter is the one who controls the situation. One of the shihan of the Japan Aikido Association, when asked about how, using aikido, to deal with a karate practitioner, replied simply, "Maai."

We've all heard similar statements and all have been admonished during training to be aware of the maai, often translated as combative engagement distance, but perhaps more accurately rendered "combative interval." When I first heard the word in a Tomiki aikido dojo in the U.S., I thought it referred to a simple spatial relationship-the distance at which I could, in a single movement, reach an opponent with my attack. Conversely, I also discovered, it was the distance at which an attacker could reach me!

What I didn't quite get at first was the extent to which this was not one, but two, sometimes vastly different, distances. When my then training partner, Meik Skoss, casually remarked, over coffee and donuts after jukendo (bayonet Way) training one morning, "Of course, you know that my maai in relation to you, will always be different from yours to me--even though the distance between us is constant," I nodded, and pretended to have the foggiest notion of what he was talking about. It became clearer soon after when I ran into my friend Bill, who is over six feet tall, in the company of his girlfriend, who is five foot nothing. If the two of them were to stand side-by-side facing me, at (Bill's) arms length away, I would be fully within Bill's maai, and just outside of his girlfriend's. They would both be in my maai. If Bill took one step back, he might very well be out of my maai, yet I would still be within his. These differences are naturally based on the length of each individual's arms and legs. Two more elements, speed and timing (hyoshi) can also affect the effective combative interval. What it all adds up to, is judging the constantly changing maai, different for each individual and each type of attack, is incredibly complicated. And of course, our teachers tell us, we must learn to make this evaluation virtually subconsciously and instantaneously.

Having just finished shovelling the snow

Having just finished shovelling the snow, one's thoughts turn naturally to ... Flower Arranging!

If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed to the Aikido Journal, specifically to a blog entry by Dave Lowry. Mr. Lowry is a senior practictioner of Classical Japanese Martial Arts, and was taught ikebana (flower arranging) by the wife of his kenjutsu sensei. There is an excerpt below. Also, if you click here, you will be directed to the Wikipedia article on ikebana. Enjoy.

Of all the requisites faced by the budoka (“martial artist”) contemplating the construction of a new dojo or training facility, the tokonoma (“alcove”), with its space for the display of arranged flowers, could rank in importance somewhere between solar-powered showers and cashmere mats. Pragmatism must sometimes take precedence over aesthetics. Safe, durable training floor surfaces, adequate dressing facilities, and so on, are more apt to concern dojo builders than will a shelf devoted to flower arrangements. Later on, the tasks of training, teaching, and maintaining the dojo are more likely to occupy its inhabitants than are such matters perceived solely as decorative like the arranging and display of flowers. This is reasonable. But it also risks the development of dojo—and we need not look far to find examples of these—that are physically healthy but seriously lacking in their collective soul. They are filled with budoka who are learning well the outer, physical aspects of their art. Yet something seems missing, something internal, unidentifiable in words by the students perhaps, although palpable if by no other sense than by its absence. A good many trends that today surface in budo (“martial Ways”) training, the recent interest in some of the spiritual aspects of the martial Ways, for example, appear fundamentally to be efforts at nurturing or reestablishing this spirit, this attitude, this matter of what we might call the budo’s “soul.”

2008 Lenten Challenge

Every year, I throw out the Lenten Challenge to my martial arts buddies. It has nothing to do with Christianity or religion. We are simply using this time as a convenient reminder to rededicate ourselves to our training. It’s kind of hard to miss either Fat Tuesday (Mardi Gras, the last day before Lent, which is also Paczki Day!) or Easter Sunday (Bunnies, candy, colored eggs; that stuff). Several of us have been doing this for years now.

The challenge is this: from Ash Wednesday (Feb 6, the day before Chinese New Year, the Year of the Rat (子年) ) until Easter (Mar 23, or Apr 27 by the Orthodox calendar), train every day, without fail, no excuses.

It's not as easy as it sounds; things come up. Some days, you might only be able to get a few minutes of training in; but the point is to do it everyday, no matter what.

It doesn't have to be martial arts training either. Whatever it is that you need to really rededicate yourself to: studying, practicing an instrument, walking, watching what you eat; anything - do it every day, without fail.

In the past on some forums, people have posted what they’ve done everyday. I think everyone who’s done that has become tired of writing , and the others get tired of reading it. How about you just post if you’ve had some breakthrough, or you’ve had to overcome some unusual circumstance to continue your training? Maybe just check in every once in a while to let everyone know you’re keeping at it, or to encourage everyone to keep at it.

For those of you who insist that you really do train everyday anyway, by all means continue and be supportive of the rest of us. For the rest of us who intend to train everyday, but sometimes come up short due to life’s propensity for unraveling even the best laid plans, here is an opportunity to put a stake in the ground and show your resolution.

As a gesture of solidarity with my Orthodox friends, I’m going to keep it up through their Easter celebration.

Won't you join me?

Best Regards

Rick
Http://CookDingsKitchen.blogspot.com

Taiji Question

A blog that I have been visiting a lot lately, is Taiji Question.

The author has made many thought provoking posts, and I wanted to pass this along. If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed there, or you can find a link over at the right.

Something that grabbed my eye the other day was a quote: Carry your body in your mind, not your mind in your body.

A good bit of wisdom there. I'll throw out a quote that I encountered not too long ago:

"Be soft in your practice. Think of the method as a fine silvery stream, not a raging waterfall. Follow the stream in its course. It will go its own way, meandering here, trickling there. It will find the grooves, the cracks, the crevices. Just follow it. Never let it out of your sight. It will take you."

Sheng-yen

Pro Wrestling vs MMA

If you click on the title of this post, you'll be directed to an article at Yahoo Sports. There is an excerpt below. A pro wrestler is going to try his hand at Mixed Martial Arts. This just isn't any pro wrestler though. He was a highly regarded college wrestler, who was known for his strength and speed. It sounds like it will be quite an entertaining match.

UFC gambles on untested Lesnar
By Dave Meltzer, Yahoo! Sports
January 21, 2008

Dave Meltzer
Yahoo! Sports

In the spring of 2000, Brock Lesnar was a University of Minnesota senior, just two weeks and a handful of workouts away from the NCAA Division I wrestling tournament.

Today, the 30-year-old Lesnar finds himself in a similar situation as he trains for his match against former Ultimate Fighting Championship heavyweight champion Frank Mir in the most publicized debut in UFC history.

The former “Next Big Thing” of pro wrestling has become ultimate fighting's next gigantic question mark, a 1-0 fighter with 69 seconds of ring experience thrown into the deep end of a shark-infested pool.

Whether he's in over his head remains to be seen, but the reason he's being billed as the semi-main event of UFC 81 on Feb. 2 in Las Vegas is because of his fame as a former World Wrestling Entertainment champion.

The success of this card hinges on people buying the novelty of a former WWE champion fighting a former UFC champion. The idea, if it clicks, is to rally the UFC fan base to want to see the fake wrestler get smashed, and for the pro wrestling audience, to whom the show is being heavily marketed, to tune in out of curiosity to see how one of its all-time tough guys can do.

Lesnar knows his role is to antagonize UFC fans, as he did in dismissing Mir's submission ability in a commercial. Lesnar noted upon signing with UFC a few months ago that when it comes to promoting a fight, he "learned from the best."

"I've got eight workouts left (as of late last week) and I'm very excited for February 2," Lesnar said. "I've got it all to lose and I've got everything to gain. Frank Mir doesn't have the same kind of pressure."

Lesnar knows the knee-jerk reaction is to say a WWE champion would get destroyed in an MMA match. He's heard all the wise cracks: No scripts. No dance partners allowing you to do your moves. With his big muscles, he'll gas out in a minute of real fighting. But what makes this match different from a Kimbo Slice-type of freak show is that those on the inside are even more intrigued than those on the outside.

Oddsmakers are heavily favoring Lesnar, likely because they think people will bet on him because of name recognition as opposed to handicapping the match based on who they think has the best chance of winning.

It would be a mistake to dismiss Lesnar as an over-muscled fake; he's arguably the best all-around athlete of any heavyweight in UFC history. Certainly nobody can match his combination of strength, explosive power, and speed to go along with his 265-pound fighting weight.

After one week of training with Lesnar in late 2006, MMA coach Pat Miletich, a former UFC champion, came away impressed. "In a year, there won't be a man alive who can beat him," Miletich said. Lesnar has spent the last 18 months training at Greg Nelson's Minnesota Martial Arts Academy in Minneapolis, concentrating on striking and jiu- jitsu. He often works out with the national champion University of Minnesota wrestling team -- in particular, Cole Konrad, the 2008 Olympic hopeful who was NCAA heavyweight champion the past two years. Suffice to say, Lesnar gets a regular reality check of where his wrestling stands.

"I'm going to stay in his face and control him," Lesnar said. "I can guarantee I'll be in better condition than Mir."

But will tremendous athletic gifts and 18 months of training help Lesnar overcome a lack of MMA experience and an opponent with enough submission skills to finish even ground experts? People will be watching to see.

Lesnar's pro wrestling fame has allowed him to start as one of MMA's highest-paid fighters. The downside to that fame is it forces him into the spotlight. While most people with his potential would be brought along slowly and shielded from such a dangerous opponents so early in his career, because of what he's getting paid, he has to be in a match like this one with a theme that will grab attention.

Lesnar's strengths as a wrestler were conditioning, physical power, takedown ability, and his ability to turn his opponents over. But outside of his workout partners, the only evidence anyone has seen of him as a fighter was his June 2 win over Min Soo Kim at the Los Angeles Coliseum.

Min Soo was a 1996 Olympic silver medalist in judo, so he was no slouch. But he has also had struggles adapting to MMA, with a 4-6 record. Lesnar did a quick takedown and showed unusually powerful short punches in quickly knocking out the Korean on the ground.

But the spot Lesnar put Min Soo -- on his back -- is the exact place Mir wants to be, working for an armbar or a triangle. Mir's most famous moment in UFC was an armbar from the bottom that broke Tim Sylvia's arm and won him the heavyweight title on June 19, 2004.

The question is, if Lesnar can connect from the top with his heavy artillery, how long does Mir have to get that submission before he's knocked silly? While Lesnar will have a significant size advantage over most UFC heavyweights, Mir, at 6-foot-4 and 250 pounds, will be slightly taller and nearly as heavy as Lesnar, and he does have a wrestling background, including a Nevada high school state championship. If he can keep his distance and avoid a takedown, he'll have a reach advantage, and while not a great striker, Mir has a huge experience edge in that aspect of the game.

"Frank Mir is a black belt in jiu jitsu," Lesnar said. "I've been training a lot in jiu jitsu, and a lot of jiu jitsu defense and a lot of striking and defense. My wrestling workouts have taken a back seat because I did that for 18 years." Lesnar says he has visualized this fight a thousand times and the only consistent thing is his hand being raised at the end.

"Anybody can get knocked out in this sport if you get hit with the right punch with the size of the gloves," he said. "I don't have a weak jaw, but if you get hit in the right spot, anybody can lose. You just try to lower the odds of being in that situation. If I can avoid that, I can win a lot of fights."


Dave Meltzer covers mixed martial arts for Yahoo! Sports. Meltzer, who has published the pro wrestling trade industry publication the Wrestling Observer Newsletter since 1982, began covering MMA with UFC 1 in 1993. He is a graduate of San Jose State University, and has written for the Oakland Tribune, Los Angeles Times, and The National. Send Dave a question or comment for potential use in a future column or webcast.