Kung Fu & Tai Chi

I first met Sifu Matthew Stone of Three Lakes Kung Fu and Tai Chi at a seminar held in conjunction with a tournament I’d never been to before. I was impressed with his teaching on body dynamics and I had the fun of both watching him and his students compete in forms. Indeed, I competed against Sifu Stone in the “black belt division” later on (forms only). I think we both won because as he and I chatted after the competition I started counting him among my friends. A few months later I noticed he was scheduled to begin teaching at a rec center about an hour’s drive away. I asked if I could be among the newbies walking in for their very first classes and Sifu Stone enthusiastically said I was welcome to train.

I spent two hours in Sifu Stone’s classes. From the rec center’s website:

Classes on Traditional Chinese/Taiwanese martial arts, including Shaolinquan (Shaolin Boxing), the traditional soldier/bodyguard arts of Xingyiquan (Mind Intent Boxing) and Baguazhang (Eight Trigrams Palm), and the martial arts aspects of Taijiquan (Grand Ultimate Boxing), as taught within the Chen Pan-ling Family Lineage. These classes focus on the martial arts aspect of these styles, the application of movements for self-defense application, and their life-enhancing practice.

The only other newbie who walked in the door for the first hour (Kung Fu) was a lady who came in to learn “whatever you have to teach me.” She did cite the self defense aspect as one of her primary goals and expressed a little concern about her age. I normally don’t speak up when I’m not teaching, but I wanted to encourage her by pointing out that I was roughly her age when I started Karate. I wasn’t wearing my regalia, just a simple T-shirt and sweat pants, so the new student wouldn’t have known I’m a yudansha (black belt in karate) if Sifu hadn’t already introduced me. I was tempted to say, “I’m you in ten years,” but I didn’t. There will be some parallels, yes, but she will have her own unique journey.

For both classes Sifu Stone divided his attention between newbies and his long-time students (who I’d also met and seen at the tournament). I realized later that I was setting an example for the newbies by keeping on with the assigned drills until Sifu came around to us again. Once I got home I wrote down all the teaching techniques I could remember. Aligning the body, isolating a movement, generating power – these are all universal to martial arts. Indeed, a few days later I used one of Sifu Stone’s teaching tools for some of the karate students. The more teaching tools I have in my toolbox the better. If a student doesn’t respond to one way of teaching something it’s up to me to keep trying different teaching methods until something clicks. And the same goes for teaching myself.

After everyone had left, Sifu Stone spent a good long time giving me a boost for my own practice and growth as a martial artist. I’d noticed Sifu practicing with a long, thin spear – but a thrust is a thrust no matter if it’s done with a spear or a bo (long staff) so I asked for help. Yes, I got help with one technique, but most of the help I received was in the form of pointing me in the right direction for teaching myself.

Up until now I’ve been wanting to explore application of kata (forms) and individual techniques but I was looking to others to provide it. Videos, style books, asking one of my sensei – those are valuable pursuits to be sure, but coming up with answers for oneself is a whole other level of reaching an understanding of not only the techniques, not just self defense, but also of oneself. Sifu Stone said of my Shodan (1st degree black belt) status, “You graduated from high school. Welcome to college.”

“So that means I’ve got these textbooks, my kata,” I replied, “What I do with this material is up to me.”

“Exactly.”

For the last few years I have had the attitude that I can do whatever I want in my own personal practice time. There is no doubt that attitude saw me through the pandemic, when training options were limited. After talking with Sifu Stone I realized I have been focusing too much on technical perfection. In the last couple of months prior I actually came very close to burning myself out. Now, instead of spending time trying to get the details right on all my kata I picked one kata and am spending time exploring the applications. I’ll probably need to add the technical practice back in closer to the next tournament, but I have a feeling I won’t be as frustrated if I can’t get something exactly right. I do still practice all my kata (forms) so I don’t forget them. I also work on one or two basics if I feel that I’m slipping into bad habits. But I’ve shifted from the “how” to the “why.”

In karate we have a concept called shu-ha-ri. Shu – follow the rules. Ha – break the rules. Ri – make the rules your own. I have a feeling I shifted into “Ha” territory. Here’s Sifu Stone’s take on shu-ha-ri from his follow-up email.

I’m very familiar with Shu-Ha-Ri, and I use that concept with my students frequently.

Conform yourself to the school/style/technique; force your body to execute according to the principles.

Internalize the lessons so they are indistinguishable from your natural state.

Express yourself freely through technique, understanding that you’ve “become one” with the principles, and everything else no longer really matters…

So if you haven’t guessed by now learning cool new moves from other martial arts isn’t my primary goal. Sure, learning new techniques is fun but I want to move beyond what my American Kenpo friend calls, “Monkey see, monkey do.” I’m seeking answers wherever I can find them. And sometimes seeking answers leads to questions that I didn’t know I should be asking. And, as always, whenever I cross train I often hear the late Professor Remy Presas whispering, “It is all the same.” In that moment that whisper tells me I’m learning something about Karate.

Exploring American Kenpo

FPfennig, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

A friend of mine invited me to learn “Checking Hands,” an exercise frequently done in the American Kenpo school where he studies. I met up with him for a lesson. I’d already done “Sticky Hands” a few times, which was a good place to start. Gradually my friend led me to more and more aspects of this close-range exercise… Well, actually… In “Checking Hands,” one can play with distance too. Not to mention a third dimension in the form of ducking and slipping. The most marked attribute of karate sparring is darting in and out. “Checking Hands” introduced me to a close-in, three-dimensional approach to engaging in a combat art. And I gained a little insight into the karate kata (forms) that I’ve memorized.

Over time, I became more confident with bringing in elements from my karate kata to the “Checking Hands” exercise. The most frequent techniques I tried were from the Goju-ryu style kata(s) which I’ve memorized. Perhaps I was responding to some of the circular techniques my friend employed (Goju-ryu is known for circular motions). I felt validated in my bunkai (interpretation of kata/forms) of all the kata I’ve learned no matter what style I’ve learned for executing them. Offhand I can’t think of any of my bunkai which doesn’t involve being up-close and personal with my imaginary opponent. And because I absolutely love bunkai the hour I spent with my friend went very quickly.

I was intrigued and wanted to know and do more.

My friend invited me to the school where he studies and of course I accepted. I arrived a bit early, already ready to go, wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. This was, after all, a different art and I was a guest. My gi (uniform) and obi (belt) are regalia, and there’s etiquette surrounding time and place for wearing these things. In T-shirt and sweatpants I stood out, but only as a beginner in any martial art stands out. And that’s exactly what I was – a first-timer.

That said I did hear the late Professor Remy Presas whispering, “It is all the same…” https://www.thestickchick.com/post/it-really-is-all-the-same

Yes there were familiar elements and even familiar techniques; so familiar that I had the Japanese names flitting through my mind.

In fact we did one of my favorite sparring tricks as a line drill. I doubt anyone but my friend knew the combination is a favorite of mine. The American Kenpo sensei (instructor) had his own take and his own way of teaching it. I usually set someone up for this with a fake. We didn’t do a fake – this was a simple line drill with a specific purpose. The sensei had us over-extend the reverse-punch in order for us to really feel the forward momentum used to execute the roundhouse kick. I have thrown this combination hundreds of times over the years, perhaps thousands: in the air, hitting a bag, sparring in class, sparring in tournaments, and sparring with my friend. I’ve even taught this to students. But I’ve never bothered to dissect it, to stretch it beyond “normal” parameters, to understand the body dynamics involved. I should incorporate such exploration into my personal practice.

For part of the class my friend worked with me one-on-one, introducing me to commonly taught sequences and their applications. He did these sequences to me (gently of course) and I tried them on him. My friend’s explanations were peppered with concepts like “shearing force” and creating “zones of obscurity.” Creating “blind spots” where someone doesn’t see the next technique coming is something that deserves more of my attention not just for my sparring, but also for my bunkai. My friend taught about using body dynamics to more effectively and rapidly launch the next technique. And the next. I can definitely bring that to all aspects of my karate.

During the last part of the class I watched the class run through forms one right after the other. American Kenpo forms are short in duration. My friend told me that hands-on learning is an integral part of memorizing the forms. This resonates with me because I quite often teach bunkai in conjunction with teaching kata. I have a long way to go before I research and test every kata I’ve memorized, but my visit to the American Kenpo school has given me a bit more motivation to do some deep dives into, at the very least, the kata I most often teach and the kata(s) I need to present at my next belt test.

I was honored when, after walking me to my car, the instructor invited me back. I absolutely will take him up on it sometime.

Kendo

Long time readers of this blog know I love learning about other martial arts. Through one-off introductory workshops I’ve sampled Capoeira, Tai Chi, and Judo. I also attended several self defense workshops led by instructors from varying backgrounds, trained under students earning their personal fitness trainer credentials, and attended an online seminar that wasn’t so much about Kung Fu as it was about body dynamics. So when a friend invited me to the bi-monthly Kendo (Japanese sword) classes he hosts at his dojo I jumped at the chance.

I missed the first Kendo class due to an important karate event. No big deal, this is a casual gathering for the purpose of learning. I had to catch up, but at least I’m used to following along, to being at least few steps behind everyone else. In other words I know how to be a white belt (no rank, new beginner). I know how to learn and I know my own learning style. I know how to manage my practice time. And of course I had a blast learning something completely new. This beginner’s mindset is called “Shoshin” in Japanese. I try to keep my shoshin fresh in karate because, after all, Shodan (1st degree black belt) means “first level.” I’m still a beginner in my primary art (yes, after nearly 10 years).

My primary art is of course empty hand. Weapons aren’t part of the rank tests in the karate organization I belong to. To me dabbling in weapons is a nice little “extracurricular activity,” although I have recently started thinking about the benefits to my empty-hand game. I have started to understand this quote:

”Karate and Kobudo are like brother and sister. They should stay together.”

Nakamoto Mashiro

Studying weapons gives one the chance to compare and contrast, to think about how and why body dynamics change (or don’t change) when one is wielding a weapon. During the pandemic lockdowns I learned bo (Japanese long staff) over Zoom from one of my sensei (instructors). Bo feels natural because it involves push-pull dynamics similar to karate. A bokken (training sword) is another animal altogether. About the only thing I knew going in to my first Kendo class was you use two hands to wield the weapon. The bokken feels very different from my bo, from Filipino Martial Arts canes (in one or both hands) and is totally and completely different from fencing foils. Yes, I took a semester of fencing in college. And yet…

Like many other times when I’ve cross-trained, I heard the late Professor Remy Presas whispering, “It’s all de same…”

 Blogger and Arnisadora Jackie Bradbury explains,

“The meaning of this is that what we do and learn in my style isn’t actually terribly unique in the martial arts world.  Much of what we do can be seen in other seemingly unrelated styles like taekwondo, karate, and kung fu.”

Jackie Bradbury, The Stick Chick Blog

With the bokken I learned angles of attack just like in Filipino Martial Arts. These angles of attack are based on human anatomy in order to cause the most damage and hopefully not catch your weapon on bone and lose your grip on it. This is serious stuff, but so is shattering joints and there’s plenty of that in the empty hand arts. Speaking of the empty hand arts, there is a relationship between Kendo and the style of Karate I study.

Konishi Yasuhiro Sensei founded Shindo Jinen-ryu karate. But before that he was a Kendoka (one who studies Kendo). Konishi Sensei coached the University of Keio’s Kendo club. Just a few months short of 100 years ago (at the time of this writing) Konishi Sensei met two karate luminaries after one of his classes. They asked if they could use the Kendo training hall for their karate classes. The rest was history. A karate exercise I practice frequently, “Te Gatana,” echoes Konishi Sensei’s Kendo and always reminds me of Filipino Martial Arts angles of attack. In 1927 and 1928 Konishi Sensei hosted a guest in his home for ten months: Mabuni Kenwa Sensei who founded the style of karate my friend teaches at his dojo. Talk about echoes of the past!

Kendo and Karate weren’t the end-all-and-be-all of Konishi Sensei’s martial arts life. In addition to Kendo and Karate, Konishi Sensei also studied Jujutsu, Judo, and Aikido. Within the Karate world Konishi Sensei trained with whoever he could. This garnered some criticism but Konishi Sensei held fast to his belief in the value of cross training. I’ve seen its value myself. That and it’s just plain fun to learn something new and different.

In karate I thoroughly enjoy exploring bunkai (interpretation of forms). Imagine my delight when I was taught that Kendo kata (forms) require two people. Instant bunkai! On the other hand, what I like about karate kata bunkai is there can be multiple bunkai for any given movement and/or sequence. Still, there’s something appealing about having obvious and set bunkai. Like anything else, there are advantages and disadvantages either way. I’m stoked whenever I get to explore different modes of learning.

In a way attending a Kendo class felt like coming home. When I was a girl I was fascinated by sword-and-sorcery novels. At Renaissance faires I was more than a little jealous of those who owned real blades. I took fencing in college but the restriction of activity to a narrow lane drove me a little nuts. I was used to having free range due to my study of karate when I was a teenager. Years later I learned the history of the style of karate I now study. Entering the Kendo world just feels like a natural step for me. The cherry on top? A few years ago a co-worker gifted me with a polypropylene bokken at an office Christmas party. He uses his for cosplay. I used mine as a wall decoration. So is this fate? Time will tell. What I do know is this. My first Kendo class was fun and I’m looking forward to the next one.

Squirrel Power!

Image generated by Adobe Firefly

I was near the fireplace insert in my basement office/personal dojo when I heard a startled squeak and scrabbling sounds. “Oh no,” I thought, “Rats.”

Using a jo I thumped the drop-down ceiling and the wall, eliciting more squeaking and scrabbling. The sounds came from the fireplace insert. I looked inside and saw pellets – not wood pellets but squirrel pellets. Not rats. Whew! I heard a growl that I’d never heard before but it sounded similar to other squirrel vocalizations. A quick wiggle of the flue lever confirmed the flue was partway open. That explained the droppings. I opened the flue all the way.

While I was on the phone with a pest control company I noticed a flicker of movement. Squirrel movement. I quickly closed the flue and peered through the glass door of the fireplace insert. In the shadows crouched a soot-covered squirrel. It was scared out of its gourd but it still growled at me and made disapproving “tok tok tok tok” sounds.

Bear with me, I promise I’ll relate this story to karate. Well, OK, specifically self defense.

Pest control folks refused help me until after the weekend. It finally occurred to me that the local wildlife rehabilitator could have a solution. I called and the procedure was simple.

I cut a small hole in what would become the top of a box. I took the additional precaution of covering the hole with waxed paper. It just so happened I have a work light that was perfect for placing on top of the hole, but a flashlight would do the trick too. Using a beach towel and a bath mat I made the rest of the area dark and reasonably secure. Cautiously I opened the fireplace insert door, made final adjustments, and waited to hear the scrabbling sounds of a squirrel checking out the lovely noisy wax-paper packet of peanut butter I’d left in the back of the box.

I waited a long time.

When I came back from a bathroom break I heard scrabbling noises in the box then growling from within the box. Dang, the squirrel was right near the flaps of the box. I would have to take a chance. Slowly I moved the towel and bathmat aside. I could see the critter hunkered down. He was absolutely terrified but he definitely was trash talking me. I took a chance and slowly moved the flaps of the box inward, shoving the squirrel and trapping him inside the box. That squirrel was furious and scolded most vociferously.

Needless to say the squirrel cussed up a storm as I tilted the box (making sure to hold the flaps securely shut), carried the box outside my house, then tilted the box again. When I opened the flaps of the box that squirrel took off like a shot. After the squirrel vanished I found it utterly adorable that this little creature still found the spirit to growl, talk trash, and cuss me out in spite of its obvious terror. My heart melted.

I have a new respect for squirrels. Knowing that a bite from a squirrel is a serious matter is one kind of respect. That’s respect for one’s own safety and the safety of one’s family. Another kind of respect is admiration. A squirrel’s agility, speed, and climbing abilities are indeed remarkable. But there’s another, deeper kind of respect which acknowledges your heart has been touched and you’re better for it. That squirrel’s bravery and knowledge of self defense resonated with me.

The little creature was frozen with fear but it was prepared to fight me to the death. The squirrel thought it was highly likely that I would kill it but by golly it was going to take a piece of me with it. I’ll be honest, the squirrel’s desperate attitude was a bit intimidating. I didn’t know what to expect – would it suddenly leap up and maybe claw my face? Would it bite me? This squares with what I’ve heard in many a self-defense seminar: standing up for yourself gives a potential attacker a reason to look elsewhere. Even if you look like a harmless bit of fluff you can still make someone bigger than you think twice about messing with you.

And yet the poor little thing was scared out of its gourd. That’s natural. Of course if some scary person steps out of the shadows you’re going to have a very visceral reaction. You might even freeze like the squirrel did. A “freeze” reaction isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It might preserve your life. It might give you a moment to assess the situation. A terrified freeze reaction doesn’t necessarily spell instant doom. I have no doubt that if I’d messed with the squirrel or even lingered too long shutting the flaps of the box he would’ve found it in himself to spring out of his tense posture to attack me, run, or both.

Imagine seeing a huge monster looming over you. Imagine being shoved into a room and the room tilts, sways, then tilts again. It’s a scene straight out of a nightmare and would scare anyone. That squirrel very wisely got outta Dodge when I opened the box. Getting away to safety is a valid and, I would argue, best option for self preservation.

So… A stupid rodent who got itself trapped in my fireplace, all talk and no action… A squirrel who was frozen with fear… A squirrel who ran away and didn’t stay to fight… That’s a brave creature? You bet it is. Bravery doesn’t depend on circumstances, on anyone else’s opinion, or your own emotional state. Bravery is finding that spark inside you and making a choice to survive and/or help someone else survive.

Bringing it home to karate. The squirrel had many tools in its self-defense toolbox. That squirrel had strong back legs for jumping, sharp claws for scratching, and a bite from a squirrel is a serious matter indeed. Did the squirrel need to use those tools? No. Would the squirrel have been more brave if it had launched a full-out assault on me? No, it would’ve been a dead stupid squirrel because I’d have killed it. Using “cool karate moves” isn’t always the best course of action. “Knowing” karate puts more self defense tools at your disposal, but your best tools are your instincts and your belief in yourself. In other words… Squirrel power!

A Judo Seminar

Today (11/18/23) a friend hired me to take pictures of the self defense seminar held at his dojo (as in he owns the dojo). He also wanted pictures of the judo seminar held earlier today and was OK with me juggling photography and learning about judo from the guest sensei (instructor). I initially thought, “Good – my camera will be the perfect excuse for me to stay safe and comfortable.”

I was scared.

No, make that terrified. I’d seen judo throws before and no way was I gonna allow that sort of thing to happen to my over-fifty-year-old body. Best leave it to the youngsters, I thought.

My perspective shifted a little when someone walked in with a pad that had to be at least a foot thick. When asked about it, she explained, “It’s for bouldering. Rock climbing. You put it down over things so that if you fall you won’t die.”

I had to laugh. I quipped, “Well now I’m not afraid of Judo anymore. I should be scared of bouldering instead!”

With that shift in perspective I thought perhaps I would give Judo a try. After all, I could still use my camera as an “out” if I thought I couldn’t handle something. I admit I did use my camera as an “out” for somersaults and cartwheels. But not anything else. I gleefully threw myself into shrimping and other basic movements. Ground work wasn’t scary – I’ve done it before (click here and here).

I ended up paired with my friend the dojo sensei. This was perfect because anytime he needed to check on something or do something I’d grab my camera and photograph the guest instructor and/or the seminar participants. I guess I’ve learned to juggle from being a mother. There was one occasion, though, when my friend was taking longer than usual and I’d already taken plenty of photos.

The guest sensei’s assistant came over to me. Participants had just begun the “scary” throws. I knew in that instant that even though I trust my friend I’d feel better about being thrown by someone who’s done it a thousand times. I told the young stranger that I needed to practice being a good uke (receiver of a technique) and requested he throw me.

Whoomph!

I got up, looked him in the eyes, and said, “Again.”

Whoomph!

“One more time. I just need to face this down, and I’ll be OK.”

Whoomph!

“Thank you.”

By this time my friend came back and we went to work. I have to admit that being thrown also helped my fear of injuring my friend. I came to the realization that a modicum of fear was good and healthy. Fear made me mindful of the dangers involved. I tried to make sure I understood what to do and if I overlooked something I appreciated help and feedback. Fear provided fuel for respect – respect for the art of Judo, for the guest instructor, for my friend, and for myself. By shifting from terror to respect I shifted from a closed mind to an open mind.

I learned a lot about leverage and body mechanics. From time to time I drew parallels between kata (karate forms) and Judo. I will be thinking about throws more as I look at possibilities for bunkai (interpretation of forms). That’s all well and good, but more importantly, I learned about myself.

I’ve blogged before about being pushed outside my comfort zone. At least this time I didn’t vomit. I didn’t even feel nausea. Does that mean Judo wasn’t as scary as all those other times? I’ll be honest, I’m pretty sure the prospect of being thrown like a rag doll freaked me out more than anything else to date.

In my series, “More Betterer,” I speculated what being a Shodan (1st degree “black belt”) would mean for me. I listed some of my “inner demons” in Part III. Fear was number 5 on my list. I quoted an online acquaintance:

“The bad news is, you’ll probably be facing those demons for most, if not all, of your time in the martial arts. The good news is, they get smaller (or maybe you get “bigger?”) the further you go.”

Clifton Bullard

    My fear of Judo was a pretty big inner demon, but I’m bigger” now. I’ve had almost eight more years of practice facing down fear. I was pushed so far out of my comfort zone today that I’m certain I grew in many ways. I’ll be discovering those areas of growth for a good long while I’m sure.

    And… I had a lot of fun.

    Wait, what?

    Yes, fun. I had a big grin on my face most of the time. I thoroughly enjoyed solving puzzles with my body. I always enjoy cross training and today was no exception even though initially I was thinking about sitting this one out. My body might not agree with me tomorrow morning, but I had fun. And really, if this stuff isn’t fun, would it make sense to stick with a “strange little hobby of acquiring bruises for funsies” (as Jackie Bradbury puts it)?