I'm sure, dear reader, that you've seen a magic trick or two in your day. I'm talking things done by like Penn & Teller, David Copperfield, etc. The pros are really good. So good, in fact, that I've seen some of them do a couple of their tricks while telling the audience everything they're doing and it still looks amazing (take a minute to look up Penn & Teller's "Balls and Cups" for a sense of what I'm talking about). How does that apply to your martial education? I'm glad you asked!
One of the fundamental skills of a stage magician is diversion. That is, they'll make you look at, say, their left hand all the while the trick is happening with their right hand. As it turns out, this is a good skill for a fighter to have as well! Take your standard arm lock. Most people either receiving the technique or observing someone apply it will look at what is happening with the arm. But those who know about "tricks" will be looking anywhere but the the obvious place. For instance, is uke's balance being off put through tactical pressure being placed on the knee? Or is there another, more subtle motion being imparted in the arm that removes the ability to flex the arm, thus making the hyper-extension that we call a lock possible to achieve?
To extend the analogy further, once you know how a magic trick works, you can guard against it. For example, if you are watching an average stage magician do a certain card trick that you've seen before, chances are that you can see when the misdirection happens and notice them palming the card and sticking it in their pocket. Similarly, you can "guard against" the trick. That is, you won't be as easily fooled. So it is with these martial techniques as well. To continue the observations from above, what would happen to the arm lock if you were able to re-establish a strong posture once you start feeling that pressure on the knee? Or if you were able to somehow counteract the twist that isn't the arm lock itself but the enabler thereof? Rhetorical questions…something to think about.
Of course, in order for a trick to work, it should be somewhat subtle. If it's obvious that you're compromising uke's integrity through their knee, then they'll take steps (literally!) against it. The ideal, therefore, is to split their attention. If they're worried about their arm, you'll get their knee. And vice versa. This splitting of attention forms the basis for toatenojutsu.
The Path to the Eye of the Storm
2016/07/04
2016/05/21
More shades of grey
Last time, I wrote a little bit about how the different ways you know of striking imply differing levels of power application. The "executive summary" on that one is: your open fingers are weaker than your closed fingers (or, as the kids like to call it, "a fist") which in turn are weaker than something like your elbow. But there's a place for everything.
Now that you've mastered that, it's time to add another layer onto it. On top of knowing a dozen odd atemi strikes, we have varying levels of initiative (or timing). For today's discussion, I'll be talking about go no sen, sen sen no sen, and tenchin. I'll start with what I think is the hardest to understand - sen sen no sen.
At its core, sen sen no sen is a preemption. That is, your opponent begins his/her attack and you beat them to the punch (literally). Assuming that your opponent is savvy, s/he is attacking because they've evaluated your position and believe they have a shot. Which is what makes this initiative so difficult; they've had time to plan their attack and wait for just the right moment to strike. Your job is to thwart that in the time between when they start the attack and when it gets so powerful that it overwhelms your defense. All of this is a long winded way to say that sen sen no sen favors speed over power. Chances are really good that you're not going to have time to chamber your strike properly. Or, at least, it's not going to look the same as the same strike thrown from tenchin or even go no sen.
Tenchin, by contrast, is the slowest initiative. Which isn't to say that the strike itself is slow in absolute terms, but relative to the other two initiatives. Especially when you consider the narrative above where there's a period of evaluation, opening, etc that comes along for the ride. But if it's slow, what's the benefit? The devastating power of it. Because you're taking your time, you have the benefit of a grand wind up. That is, you can incorporate more of your body.
Lastly, go no sen. Just to be clear, this is the least desirable of the three initiatives we're talking about today (though it sure beats getting punched in the face). If you're using this, it means that you were caught enough off guard that sen sen no sen wasn't an option and that you're responding to someone else's plan instead of having one of your own. But you play the hand you're dealt. Go no sen strikes can afford to be slightly slower than sen sen no sen because the opponent's initial attack has completed (as opposed to your trying to interrupt it). But it needs to be faster than tenchin because chances are pretty good that s/he isn't going to stand around while you get everything together. That is to say that the window of opportunity closes rapidly. And so, because the timing is between the other two initiatives, so is the power.
Now of course, you could try to take this and the previous post together and try to come up with some sort of grand hierarchy with sen sen no sen nukite uchi on the fast/least powerful end and tenchin seiken uchi on the other, but I don't see a lot of value in that personally. It implies a quantification of these things that, to my knowledge, doesn't exist. But you surely can compare things on the same axis. For instance, for any given strike, sen sen no sen is the fastest/least powerful and tenchin is the slowest/most powerful. So, if you want to show your sensei that you understand, practice this way when you're doing your forms. For example, don't chamber your punch when speed is of the essence. Similarly, don't throw little jabs when you intend to destroy your target. Again, a time and place for everything.
As this applies outside of the dojo, think about how you could apply this at work. If something with a tight deadline comes up, you might have to do the vocational equivalent of a sen sen no sen to get things back to a more manageable situation. Or maybe you see an opportunity coming and wait for just the right time to tackle it. That would be tenchin.
To summarize, inasmuch as there are "levels" of power and speed, they are inversely proportional. That is, when one goes up, the other goes down. And for those of you feeling robbed about the missing forty-seven shades of grey alluded to in the title… come and get them.
Now that you've mastered that, it's time to add another layer onto it. On top of knowing a dozen odd atemi strikes, we have varying levels of initiative (or timing). For today's discussion, I'll be talking about go no sen, sen sen no sen, and tenchin. I'll start with what I think is the hardest to understand - sen sen no sen.
At its core, sen sen no sen is a preemption. That is, your opponent begins his/her attack and you beat them to the punch (literally). Assuming that your opponent is savvy, s/he is attacking because they've evaluated your position and believe they have a shot. Which is what makes this initiative so difficult; they've had time to plan their attack and wait for just the right moment to strike. Your job is to thwart that in the time between when they start the attack and when it gets so powerful that it overwhelms your defense. All of this is a long winded way to say that sen sen no sen favors speed over power. Chances are really good that you're not going to have time to chamber your strike properly. Or, at least, it's not going to look the same as the same strike thrown from tenchin or even go no sen.
Tenchin, by contrast, is the slowest initiative. Which isn't to say that the strike itself is slow in absolute terms, but relative to the other two initiatives. Especially when you consider the narrative above where there's a period of evaluation, opening, etc that comes along for the ride. But if it's slow, what's the benefit? The devastating power of it. Because you're taking your time, you have the benefit of a grand wind up. That is, you can incorporate more of your body.
Lastly, go no sen. Just to be clear, this is the least desirable of the three initiatives we're talking about today (though it sure beats getting punched in the face). If you're using this, it means that you were caught enough off guard that sen sen no sen wasn't an option and that you're responding to someone else's plan instead of having one of your own. But you play the hand you're dealt. Go no sen strikes can afford to be slightly slower than sen sen no sen because the opponent's initial attack has completed (as opposed to your trying to interrupt it). But it needs to be faster than tenchin because chances are pretty good that s/he isn't going to stand around while you get everything together. That is to say that the window of opportunity closes rapidly. And so, because the timing is between the other two initiatives, so is the power.
Now of course, you could try to take this and the previous post together and try to come up with some sort of grand hierarchy with sen sen no sen nukite uchi on the fast/least powerful end and tenchin seiken uchi on the other, but I don't see a lot of value in that personally. It implies a quantification of these things that, to my knowledge, doesn't exist. But you surely can compare things on the same axis. For instance, for any given strike, sen sen no sen is the fastest/least powerful and tenchin is the slowest/most powerful. So, if you want to show your sensei that you understand, practice this way when you're doing your forms. For example, don't chamber your punch when speed is of the essence. Similarly, don't throw little jabs when you intend to destroy your target. Again, a time and place for everything.
As this applies outside of the dojo, think about how you could apply this at work. If something with a tight deadline comes up, you might have to do the vocational equivalent of a sen sen no sen to get things back to a more manageable situation. Or maybe you see an opportunity coming and wait for just the right time to tackle it. That would be tenchin.
To summarize, inasmuch as there are "levels" of power and speed, they are inversely proportional. That is, when one goes up, the other goes down. And for those of you feeling robbed about the missing forty-seven shades of grey alluded to in the title… come and get them.
2016/04/11
Not all strikes are created equal
I'm a believer in basic egalitarianism. That is, I think giving everyone a chance to prove themselves is only fair. That said, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. For instance, I'm not likely to ever finish a marathon, let alone clock in some world class time. But that's okay; I have other gifts. An analogous concept can be brought into your atemi as well.
When you think of atemi as an art, why is it do you think that we have myriad hand/arm and leg/foot strikes? It's tempting to think that some sadistic sensei in the Good Old Days™ thought "Yeah… the mudansha don't have enough to learn. I'm going to come up with a bunch of weird hand positions to give them something to do and hopefully confuse them!". But alas, that's probably not how it went down.* Instead, different strikes have different purposes. For example, nukite uchi is more of a precision strike whereas seiken uchi is more about power. Of course, everything is on a continuum (i.e. "shades of grey"). But when I see people executing the aforementioned strikes in form with exactly the same amount of power, I feel like something's been lost in translation; either the precision strikes are being done with too much "oomph" (thus risking damaging the leading fingers) or the power strike is not living up to its name. To be honest, I see the former much more often than the latter. I think this is due to the mentality of "this is atemi and therefore I must put every ounce of power into this strike". This is a good way to get your fingers injured on those strikes where they're more exposed (ask me how I know).
As this applies to your non-martial life, I'm sure that you have many "techniques" for interpersonal dealings. Sometimes it's appropriate to speak in a soothing tone; other times raising your voice is appropriate. What would happen if you had only one of those tools in your set?
In conclusion, as you're practicing your atemi forms, I challenge you to think about the relative power that you could use with each and demonstrate that. From a distance, an observer should be able to tell that your koko uchi has a different level of power than your hiraken uchi. Notice I said "your"; it's important that you practice your art and no one else's. Which is to say that on an absolute level, my uraken uchi is going to be of a different absolute power level than yours. But within my own practice, my seiken uchi should be thrown with more power than my nukite uchi.
* Disclaimer: I wasn't around nor am I a time traveler, so I can't corroborate.
When you think of atemi as an art, why is it do you think that we have myriad hand/arm and leg/foot strikes? It's tempting to think that some sadistic sensei in the Good Old Days™ thought "Yeah… the mudansha don't have enough to learn. I'm going to come up with a bunch of weird hand positions to give them something to do and hopefully confuse them!". But alas, that's probably not how it went down.* Instead, different strikes have different purposes. For example, nukite uchi is more of a precision strike whereas seiken uchi is more about power. Of course, everything is on a continuum (i.e. "shades of grey"). But when I see people executing the aforementioned strikes in form with exactly the same amount of power, I feel like something's been lost in translation; either the precision strikes are being done with too much "oomph" (thus risking damaging the leading fingers) or the power strike is not living up to its name. To be honest, I see the former much more often than the latter. I think this is due to the mentality of "this is atemi and therefore I must put every ounce of power into this strike". This is a good way to get your fingers injured on those strikes where they're more exposed (ask me how I know).
As this applies to your non-martial life, I'm sure that you have many "techniques" for interpersonal dealings. Sometimes it's appropriate to speak in a soothing tone; other times raising your voice is appropriate. What would happen if you had only one of those tools in your set?
In conclusion, as you're practicing your atemi forms, I challenge you to think about the relative power that you could use with each and demonstrate that. From a distance, an observer should be able to tell that your koko uchi has a different level of power than your hiraken uchi. Notice I said "your"; it's important that you practice your art and no one else's. Which is to say that on an absolute level, my uraken uchi is going to be of a different absolute power level than yours. But within my own practice, my seiken uchi should be thrown with more power than my nukite uchi.
* Disclaimer: I wasn't around nor am I a time traveler, so I can't corroborate.
2016/03/15
"You haven't beaten me!"
There's a scene* in the movie "Batman Begins" where Bruce Wayne (spoiler alert: he becomes Batman) is training with Ra's Al Ghul (spoiler alert: he turns out to be the bad guy). To set the scene, the latter is mentoring the former in his brand of ninjitsu (ninjas!). The two are fighting on ice, Ra's talks some smack about Bruce's father, and Bruce musters some rage and manages to get the best of his master. Or so it would appear. Ra's says "You haven't beaten me! You've sacrificed sure footing for a killing stroke." He then taps the ice with his sword and Bruce plummets into the frigid water. It's at this point where today's lesson begins.
As you're learning to fight, a lot of emphasis is placed on posture and body positioning. How many times have you heard your instructor say something like "back straight!" or "keep your heel on the ground!". This isn't mere pedantry. It is only by having "sure footing" (to use Mr. Al Ghul's terminology) throughout your entire series of movement that you truly become unbeatable. Take care not to take "sure footing" too literally, however. Integrity of structure in your entire body from the beginning of the movement until the end is the ultimate goal. It is of course a lofty one. As it was alluded to before, your instructor(s) probably note one or two things for you consistently. When they make that observation, take that opportunity to slow down and put your mind into that body part for the rest of the class (and maybe the next one!) and really be conscious of how it's moving. Moving towards and through conscious competence is the only path to unconscious competence. And don't worry - once you've corrected the noted deficiency, your instructor will surely have another one for you to work on; it is a service they provide.
As a benchmark as to whether you have integrity of structure throughout your movement, pause at different points during your execution. While smoothness of execution is also desirable, moving smoothly through a compromised position doesn't do you much good. You should endeavor to execute your movements and techniques in such a way so that if someone said "matte!" you could stop and have a good body position. Of course, if in that same moment your uke was also in a position of unbalance, that would be most excellent. But one step at a time.
So why is all this important? It isn't just the start and end points that matter, but how you get there. Be unassailable. If you compromise your structure in the service of completing your motion, a savvy opponent will capitalize on your temporary weakness to destroy you. Intentions to end in a strong position count for naught if you never make it there!
One example of how this applies to your Kaze Arashi Ryu practice specifically can be seen in something as simple as the cross block that we normally execute from irimi tai sabaki (i.e. "One and two"). Often times, beginners will execute this by ducking under their arm, rounding their shoulders and adopting what I typically call "Turtle Pose". Instead, endeavor to keep your back straight and guide the strike over. This not only keeps you in a better position, but done correctly raises the center of your uke which should make your next movement easier.
And for those of you playing at home, think of the non-martial applications of this. If in your business dealings you move through dishonest positions (i.e. less than ideal integrity), have you really won? You may have bested that particular opponent in that particular encounter with deceit, but you arrived there through questionable means. All it will take is for the seemingly vanquished to tap the ice you're standing on and send you into the freezing lake. Be unassailable. Only when you accomplish victory through these means will you have truly won.
* This scene can be viewed on YouTube at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uiaRYQlsjy4. Copyright Warner Brothers, all rights reserved.
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