“To do a dull thing with style — now that’s what I call art.”
–Charles Bukowski
Bukowski’s quote is important to our practice: in one sentence, he hits the root of it all. What makes a “master” is not “advanced” technique: instead, it is doing everything in an advanced way. We are all tempted to think that basics are dull, but when you begin to truly understand them, I believe you will be hard pressed to find anything dull about them. I am endlessly fascinated by the ways in which minute twitches, imperceptible even to the eye, change the techniques dramatically.
That’s what makes what we do a martial art. In any kind of art, some of the simplest work is also considered to be some of the best. Japanese artists will make a lifetime practice out of drawing the enso — the circle that is popularly brushed in Japanese calligraphy (shodo). It’s the same circle, over and over, but they actually never draw the same circle twice. Every punch you throw is also a completely unique creation.
When you look at things from that perspective, your practice should never be dull or boring. With that spirit, you become a martial artist and not the usual monkeys that you see wearing black belts, waving their arms around and having no idea what they’re doing. This quality is what makes true martial arts a life-changing thing to practice, and an exceedingly rare thing to find. Dedicate yourself with all the effort you can spare. Don’t waste a moment.
Congratulations to Blue Cliff Tae Kwon Do’s newest green belt, Keith Sherrill! In our school, green belt is a major accomplishment: it signifies that one has entered the intermediate stage of the journey and is now preparing to become an advanced student, a red belt. Keith underwent a grueling 2.5 hour private examination of all of his techniques and was awarded, like only a few others before him, his green belt. Great job, Keith!
I think it’s a good time to trot out a document that most of you may not have seen, since it’s buried in the web site a bit: the Dojo Rules. There are a few in here that I think we could show a bit more care with.
The first is the wearing of jewelry in class. People are constantly wearing bracelets, earrings, watches, and so on. This is dangerous, to you and your fellow practitioners. I wear a watch to keep time: do you notice that I virtually always take it off when I do something with a student? Please, take off your jewelry.
The second is our mouths. I have heard some swearing lately — in the locker rooms, and even on the floor — and I think we all need to be more conscious of how we represent ourselves in the dojo. Thinking back, I may have been guilty of this myself. Let’s do better. The dojo is a special place where we should speak, act, walk, and practice like the exceptional people we strive to be. This includes the locker rooms and the parking lot. This applies even when (we think) no one else is in the building with us. And it includes the dojo at my house. Once you’re off site (or out of my garage), I don’t care how you talk. But when we are at the dojo, we need to do better. For you, for me, and for the image of the dojo.
The rest of the rules are listed below. Please take a minute and browse through them. I think I did a decent job when I wrote them, and it’s good to consider them every now and then. Just like your front kick, these rules are a part of your training.
1. Safety is always the first concern. There is to be no horse play or rough-housing. You are not to practice without trained supervision, and you will never attempt to cause harm to another member of the class. If you are ever unsure of how to perform a technique correctly, ask the instructor for help.
2. Courtesy and respect are to be maintained at all times, both for the teacher and your fellow students.
3. There is to be no swearing or foul language.
4. There is to be no harassing or picking on others for any reason! In this environment, we are all equal, regardless of profession, race, gender, religion, income, sexual orientation, or anything else. Everyone who wants to participate and follow the rules will be welcomed with open arms. Every student will be treated with respect by all teachers and his or her fellow students, no matter what.
5. Please try to arrive at class on time. Your time with the instructor is precious, and you should use it wisely.
6. You are never to set your belt on the floor, use it as a toy or “whip,” or do anything that shows a lack of respect. It is a representation of your own achievement; as such, to be disrespectful of your belt is to show disrespect to your rank and the teacher who awarded it. In the course of your training (doing push-ups or being thrown, for example), your belt will touch the ground. This is fine. But your belt should never touch the ground unless it is part of the normal course of your training. You will also never wash your belt.
7. You are to practice good personal hygiene when you are coming to class. Wash your uniform (but never your belt) before each class. You should keep your hair clean, and keep fingernails and toenails trimmed.
8. If you are ever training with an injury, you MUST tell the instructor so that appropriate adjustments to training can be made. Otherwise, you risk worsening the injury.
9. No jewelry is to be worn in class. This includes, but is not limited to, rings (including wedding rings), toe rings, bracelets, anklets, necklaces, watches, earrings, any other type of jewelry for a piercing (including belly button rings and other piercings that are not readily visible under the uniform). This is for YOUR SAFETY and the safety of those around you. Piercings, in particular, can result in nasty injuries if accidentally kicked, punched, pulled, etc. You may, however, wear glasses if you require them.
10. You are not to wear your belt outside the classroom unless you have a good reason (such as practicing, performing in a demonstration, et cetera).
I would like to take a moment to recognize Will Sherrill and Keith Sherrill, Blue Cliff Tae Kwon Do’s co-Students of the Year. Every year, I am faced with the difficult decision of choosing a student of the year. Since I honestly believe that I only work with the best of the best in terms of my students, this is a hard choice indeed.
This year, Will and Keith stood out for their ability to make amazing progress through consistent attendance and lots of practice at home. Every time I gave them a correction, it was always fixed the next week. When I gave them advice, they took it. And they have made special efforts to take advantage of the classes I offer in my home dojo on a periodic basis. Their hard work has shown up in their progress through the ranks this year. They have, in short, done what every good student should do: they have applied themselves to their training and taken responsibility for their own growth.
It is hard to convey how fully these brothers have become a crucial element of our little family. The BCTKD program is far richer for their participation, and I am a far richer instructor for having them as students. With all my good will and gratitude, I proclaim Will and Keith Sherrill the Blue Cliff Tae Kwon Do Students of the Year!
I had one particularly stand-out experience in Texas over the last week: an instructor assisted me in picking up a sword for the first time. I say picking it up because that’s about what we did: pick it up. I’m being literal.
Don’t get me wrong: I’ve swung around junky “swords” before with very little idea what I was doing. And I’ve done some decent Aiki-bokken work to help me with finding my center of gravity and learning proper extension in Aikido. But I’m talking about real sword work with a razor sharp piece of steel that will take off a limb like going through butter. At least, that’s what my instructor was using.
I was using an unsharpened “fake” sword. Most of my learning time was spent preparing for the draw: tying the sword belt (kaku obi) and hakama, learning etiquette for handling the sword, learning posture, learning stancing, and learning how to position the sword so that it is ready for the draw. So, after hours — days — of practice, I still don’t really know how to even get the sword out of the sheath. Good!
This tells me that I am working with a great instructor who cares enough about his students to insist on the basics. If my basics are not flawless before I ever draw the sword, I run the danger of killing myself or lopping off my own body parts, even if I’m not facing any foe. I have heard that several people die each year while practicing solo sword kata.
The danger of the sword magnifies what we should realize about every art: if your basics aren’t right, you put yourself in mortal peril. With a sword, you can clip your own jugular vein or cut off your own nose as you bring the sword out of the sheath. You might cut off a finger putting it back. And irreparable damage happens in the smallest fraction of a second. In our art, your bad stance or ineffective strike can have results ranging from broken knuckles to knee injuries to an opening that will allow an opponent to kill you. In both scenarios, with the sword or empty hand, our own clumsiness and inattentiveness is our biggest enemy: not some imaginary opponent out “there” somewhere.
No one is immune. However, instructors in empty-hand arts have an easier time hiding this fact. Once you have been around long enough, you can use your speed and experience to put on a good show for less experienced people. There are tricks that will help you hide your flaws (to the fools who don’t know any better, that is), and you will figure them out as you go. But you will come across someone, someday, who has spent their time working the basics, who has not been faking it, and who doesn’t care how many stripes you’ve loaded up your belt with. On that day, you’ll wish you had spent your time more wisely.
Sword arts are rife with stories of truly spectacular sword masters who have injured themselves in truly spectacular fashion. When you hack half of your own arm off, it’s tough to brush it off (the mistake, that is, but perhaps your arm too) in a way that students won’t notice. It doesn’t matter who you are or how good you are: it only takes one second of inattention for you, or for me, to lose our lives to sloppiness. Make your basics powerful. Keep your form pristine. It’s a matter of life and death.
Attention. Attention. Attention.
Hi all,
Just a reminder that class will be canceled on Friday, March 19th and Saturday, March 20th. Keep practicing on your own and I’ll see you at class the following week!
–Sensei
When a rebel army took over a Korean town, all fled the Zen temple except the abbot. The rebel general burst into the temple, and was incensed to find that the master refused to greet him, let alone receive him as a conqueror.
“Don’t you know,” shouted the general, “that you are looking at one who can run you through without batting an eye?”
“And you,” said the abbot, “are looking at one who can be run through without batting an eye.”
The general’s scowl turned into a smile. He bowed low and left the temple.
–Natalie Goldberg, as quoted in Sushila Blackman’s Graceful Exits: How Great Beings Die
Power of mind is infinite while brawn is limited.
–Koichi Tohei, 10th Dan, Aikido
[P]raise and a good reputation do nothing to increase our longevity or good health. Maybe if lots of people praised us we might get a bit richer! But apart from that, praise does not make us live longer or in better health or help us in any other way. If people criticize us, it does not make us sick or unhealthy and nor does it shorten our lives. It does not affect us in any substantial way at all.
If we really stop to think about praise and criticism, we will see they do not have the least importance. Whether we receive praise or criticism is of no account. The only important thing is that we have a pure motivation, and let the law of cause and effect be our witness. If we are really honest, we can see that it makes no difference whether we receive praise and acclaim.
–The Dalai Lama
The art of leadership is saying no, not saying yes. It is very easy to say yes.
–Tony Blair
As a leader, I love this quote. I spend so much time struggling to make the correct decisions for my students. When I am embroiled in a difficult quandary, this quote reminds me that I am supposed to be embroiled in difficult quandaries if I want to be effective. The struggle is a marker that I’m doing something right because it is, as Blair says, very easy to say yes. If I find leadership to be easy, then that is a sure sign that I’m not really leading: I’m just standing in front of the class. At that point, the class is leading and I’m just a “yes-man” to their whims. It is easy to make people happy by giving them what they want, only putting on a show of “no” with no real teeth to it. That’s how martial arts has gotten to the sad state of the present day. Yes, yes, yes. Where is the collective martial arts spine? We study conflict, but we can’t bear to say “no” every now and then? Come on, my fellow instructors!
Honestly, when I’m in doubt I usually say no. When there is a nagging feeling in my gut saying something isn’t quite right with a request or situation, I say no. My gut is usually right. Not always, but usually.
I say “no” because the system I teach is more important than whether or not you like me. My duty to my instructors is more important than your “self-esteem.” Their legacy they created in me requires the same standards of the legacy that I create in you. And they said “no” to me a lot. Their “no”s taught me much more than their “yes”es.
My instructors were not always right when they said no, and I won’t be either. However, the instructors who are busy saying “yes” all of the time are wrong far more often than I am in their overindulgent permissiveness. No one seems to mind, though, when a leader is wrong about a “yes.” Until the student is attacked and has no idea what he is doing. Until the student gets hit for real for the first time on the street and is not prepared for it. Until the rubber meets the road. Then the student feels betrayed, and he is right to feel that way. But most are lucky enough to never have to realize, in real combat, that their rank is a lie. So they skip blissfully through their training, unaware of the mockery that they are.
When I find an instructor who says “no,” I cling to him for dear life. That is a teacher who cares so much about me that he is willing to risk losing my affection to do right by me. That is truly selfless behavior, and hard to find. “Not good enough. Not yet. Not ready. Not precise enough. Not energetic enough. NO NO NO!” That is the mantra of a teacher who loves his art and his students. My challenge is that no one is there to say “No” to me anymore in Tae Kwon Do. Not really. I am alone here in Arizona to do as I please. But my teachers showed me how to say “no” to myself. If you want to feel good about yourself, to be a leader unto yourself, then internalize my “no” and make it your mantra. Not good enough, not yet. You will be surprised how far a good “no” will take you.
And when I say no to you, remember this little essay you’re reading right now. Through the frustration and hurt feelings — I know, I have been there — listen to what I’m really saying: “I care about the system, and about you, too much to let you get away with the easy way out. You can do better.” I say no to you because I believe in your ability to grow and excel. I say no because I believe you can be a black belt someday. And on the day you finally get that “yes” from me and put that black belt around your waist for the first time, you won’t believe how grateful you will be for all the “no”s that got you there.
February 23rd,2010
Philosophy |
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