Coherence in practice

A few weeks ago I attended a workshop at the Open Center on martial arts philosophy. It was based on the concept of a love based martial art, led by Rick Barrett, where love is defined as a state of being that embraces what is. Fear was defined as that state which rejects what is. You can see how this may be relevant in the practice of a martial artist. It reinforced many of the ideas and concepts we already have in place at the dojo.

One such idea was the concept of coherence. One of the underlying tenets of this workshop, and when you think about it most martial arts, is that entropy is inversely related to the coherence in any given system.

Coherence being ordered focused energy and non coherence being chaotic dissipated energy. The analogy that comes to mind is that of a laser and light bulb. A light bulb while providing light is dissipated energy, whereas the laser (which is also light) is focused to such a degree that it can penetrate steel. Both are light, one is focused and coherent the other is dissipated and dispersed.

So how does this apply to practice in a martial art? I will take kata practice for example. Two people can perform the same kata and yet the one that is focused will flow through the kata, while the other will struggle through the kata. Kata is an ideal indicator of the state of mind of the practioner ( in addition to being useful for many other things).

You will hear me constantly tell my students to stop thinking so much and let their body do what it knows to do. This state is arrived at when we are coherent. At this point you are not "doing" the kata or any other technique for that matter. When you are truly focused(coherent), you are "being" the kata.

The other example where this is clearly observed is kumite. The speed that seems to be exhibited by seniors is not a supernatural ability(although it may appear this way). What is happening is that the seniors are simply more coherent, and by being this way they are connected to their opponent. This connection can be so deep that it would seem that the senior is reading their opponents mind before they attack. In reality it is just a high level of focus and not thinking, but being. It means being in the constant now. While these words are very easy to type-being in the now without distraction or lack of focus takes time and practice.

We are all connected, all one. Most of the time we are oblivious to this connection, because we have a tendency to walk around in a fog as a default. When you study a martial art and have a practice, you will find that you cannot deny the connection you have. Realization of this will make you a better martial artist, but more importantly it will make you a better human being.

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body

Sensei Orlando

What is Shibumi / Shibusa / Shibui ?

The following definition handily provided to me by Wikipedia begins to scratch the surface of what it means to be shibui or a person of shibusa.

The person of shibusa modestly exalts excellence via a thoroughness of taking time to learn,watch, read,understand, develop, think and merges understatement and silence concerning oneself. The shibusa sanctuary of silence, non dualism-the resolution of opposites is intuition coupled with beauty and faith as foundations for phases of truth revealing the worship and reverence for life.

The following excerpt is from Shibumi by Trevanian. Published by Ballantine books, New York.

"Shibumi is understanding, rather than knowledge. Eloquent silence. In demeanor, it is modesty without prudency. In art, where the spirit of shibumi takes the form of sabi, it is elegant simplicity, articulate brevity. In philosophy, where shibumi emerges as wabi, it is spiritual tranquility that is not passive; it is being without the angst of becoming. And in the personality of a man, it is...how does one say it? Authority without domination? Something like that."

The closest definition we can get to a translation of the term is effortless perfection. This is not so much a definition, but more of a desired state of being.

Like all those qualities that defy easy translation( as I discovered with Shibumi) the word Shibumi eludes definition. Those externals which soothe and make the spirit content are considered shibumi to the Japanese. It is on a deeper level, instinctual, not easily conveyed. It reaffirms the traditional appreciation of serenity,introspection, modesty,formality,nobility,generosity and reserve. It is the polar opposite of everything that is garish, loud, noisy or commercial hype.

In essence shibumi is a state we aspire towards. Effortless perfection, simple complexity, understated elegance. It permeates the art we practice and is available to all those who would travel through knowledge to arrive at simplicity.

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body

Sensei Orlando

What is Shibumi / Shibusa / Shibui ?

The person of shibusa modesty exalts excellence via a thoroughness of taking time to learn, watch, read, understand, develop, think, and merges into understatement and silence concerning oneself. Shibusa's sanctuary of silence, non-dualism--the resolution of opposites, is intuition coupled with beauty and faith as foundations for phases of truth revealing the worship and reverence for life.

The above definition handily provided to me be Wikipedia begins to scratch the surface of what it means to be a Shibusa.

The following excerpt is from Shibumi by Trevanian. Published by Ballantine books, New York.

"Shibumi is understanding, rather than knowledge. Eloquent silence. In demeanor, it is modesty without prudency. In art, where the spirit of shibumi takes the form of sabi, it is elegant simplicity, articulate brevity. In philosophy, where shibumi emerges as wabi, it is spiritual tranquility that is not passive; it is being without the angst of becoming. And in the personality of a man, it is...how does one say it? Authority without domination? Something like that."

The closest definition we can get to a translation of the term is effortless perfection. This is not so much a definition, but more of a desired state of being.

Like all those qualities that defy easy translation( as I discovered with Shibumi) the word Shibumi eludes definition. Those externals which soothe and make the spirit content are considered shibumi to the Japanese. It is on a deeper level, instinctual, not easily conveyed. It reaffirms the traditional appreciation of serenity,introspection, modesty,formality,nobility,generosity and reserve. It is the polar opposite of everything that is garish, loud, noisy or commercial hype.

In essence shibumi is a state we aspire towards. Effortless perfection, simple complexity, understated elegance. It permeates the art we practice and is available to all those who would travel through knowledge to arrive at simplicity.

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body

Sensei Orlando

Pushing the limits

It was ten, then twenty, then thirty. It kept increasing by ten until we had hit one hundred push ups at one time. At some point I lost feeling in my arms, but I kept going. When the class was finally over I realized several things;

1)push ups can be very difficult.

2) I was exhausted.

3) Any perceived limitation I thought I had regarding the execution of hundreds of push ups was shattered.

Every time you set foot in a training hall you should push some kind of limit. Whether that limit be physical or mental, you should aspire to move forward or upward, each time. Why should we attempt to push our limits, aren't they in place for our well being? In some cases I would agree. Limits can serve as a governing structure to prevent harm. For example, I don't attempt to jump over moving vehicles accelerating at me in the street. It is a limit of mine, it keeps me safe and intact. This is not to say I haven't thought about it, or haven't seen it done. I have done both, but my internal limit advises me that it is not a prudent course of action, for me.

Pushing your limits forces growth. When the limit is physical it is only matter of convincing your body that you can do whatever it is you seek to do (provided the skill set is present, please don't try and jump moving vehicles) and usually the body follows suit. As in the example above about push ups, I did more than I thought I could ever do. It meant that my body was more than capable of churning out push up after push up far past what I thought was my limit.

Which leads to the other and more important aspect of limits, the mental side. My students constantly hear me say " The moment you quit in your head, your body follows."

This mental aspect is by far the hardest to acquire, it has been called fortitude and heart. It has been defined in various ways by many people. It boils down to not giving up, not giving in and pushing past any limit you may harbor. This is difficult, but not impossible. All of us have internal censors or voices that tell us we can or cannot do something. When you push that limit, you must dictate that you can, despite what anyone else is telling you, sometimes despite what your own body is telling you. This translates directly into your life from the dojo. One of my other favorite sayings is- The only limits that exist in your life-are self imposed. The second you think you cant do something, you cant.

This is why I stress the pushing of limits. We have a tendency to avoid discomfort, to the extent that we create a "comfort zone" and very rarely decide to leave it. Pushing your limits means you have to break out of the comfort zone. It means doing whats necessary, not convenient. It means taking the hard path most of the time. It means discovering how far your body can go taking it to that edge and then further. It means developing mental fortitude and not succumbing to the doubts. It means total commitment.

Is it difficult? Yes very much so, some days it will feel impossible, but it isn't. Is it worth it? Absolutely.

What limits have you pushed today?

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body

Sensei Orlando

Our Dojo Kun

After a brief hiatus (the month of August and September, we had a spectacular summer program!), I was eager to get back to this blog, especially at the prodding of the many people who faithfully read these pages. I wanted to spend some time on our dojo kun.

So the most obvious question is what is a Kun (pronounced coon)? According to Wikipedia Dojo kun is a Japanese martial artsterm literally meaning dojo rules. They are generally posted at the entrance to training halls or at the "front" of the dojo; and outline behavior expected and disallowed. In some styles of martial arts they are recited at the end of a class.

A better definition for me would be the code of conduct that governs a school or training hall. It means that it governs behavior inside and outside of the school. For each student it is the guiding principle of their practice. Do I think it’s important? Absolutely. When a school lacks a kun, written or otherwise its very much like a large ship without a rudder, large, powerful and directionless. New students can look to the kun and see if the seniors embody it. Seniors can look to it and see if they are upholding its ideals, using it as a mirror. When schools lack a code of conduct, it means that any behavior is hypothetically acceptable. It gives room to ego and behavior inappropriate to a dojo.

As schools are made up of people, and people are flawed, it underscores the importance of the code of conduct. We all make mistakes, but when we do rather than try and save face or overcompensate for being embarrassed, we can allow our code of conduct to dictate our response. It allows us to maintain grace under pressure, to push ourselves when we would rather give up. It calls us to be supportive and selfless rather egocentric. Can this occur without a kun in place? I would like to think that it can, but I also know that our default way of being can be rather unpleasant.

A dojo is not a gym or a social club it is a special place where we go to train, grow and confront our flaws and shortcomings. As such it requires that we behave in a manner reflective of the vulnerability this entails. This is what a dojo kun enables. It sets the parameters for the behavior that is appropriate to the dojo. The next time your school recites the kun, really listen to the words and reflect if you are living the ideals it is stating.

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body
Sensei Orlando

Training with pain

The first thing I discovered when I started training in a martial art is that knuckle push ups hurt. I distinctly remember the hardwood floor, forming two fists and trying to place my body weight on those very tender knuckles. That was my first introduction to pain in the martial arts. Surprisingly its not part of what is shared when a prospective student walks in the door (probably for fear of scaring the student away). You will hear that you will become stronger, develop discipline, attain focus and flexibility.

You will not hear that you will experience pain on many different levels. The truth is you WILL experience physical pain if you are practicing a hard style, its just something to come to terms with. Somewhere along the path you will sprain, twist, bruise or break something. You will not be told this when you begin, because frankly it would deter most of us from training. Could you imagine walking into a school and being told "Sure you will get stronger, but don't forget you will also feel lots of pain!" Most of us would turn around right there and head for the nearest exit.

You will experience emotional discomfort and in some cases pain, as you are confronted by yourself, your limitations and aspirations and the gap between the two.

So how do you deal with pain? Most of us flee from pain, if it hurts we want no part of it. When it comes to a devoted practice and a mindset of training, you accept certain pain as part of the equation. Now I'm not advocating training with broken bones or in excruciating, mind numbing pain. That would be detrimental to your training and would put your sanity in question. If you need to rest by all means do so, likewise with injuries, give them time to heal. However, there are some situations when it is acceptable and even expected to continue even when in pain. Think about how our society glorifies the hero who is injured but doesn't give up. The one who despite the pain he/she is feeling digs deep, finds a reserve of inner strength and fortitude and manages to overcome whatever obstacle lies before them. We all seek to emulate that model or at the very least admire it.

It is usually the case that what many of us consider pain is actually moderate discomfort. The problem surfaces when we must leave our comfort zone. Push ups, to use an earlier example, are not what I would consider a comfortable exercise, they tax your body to a considerable degree, but I do them until it " hurts" because the benefits outweigh my discomfort. We each hit out threshold for pain at different points, the question is not if but when. What do you do when you hit the place where whatever you are doing is no longer comfortable and just downright hurts. Do you quit? Do you rationalize that it wasn't really for you anyway? Do you create an elaborate story to reconcile the fact you couldn't face the discomfort and more importantly, yourself? The alternative is to accept the presence of pain, adapt and get stronger.

I have always believed that if you quit in your head, your body just follows suit. you have to learn to train with pain. My first hand experience of this was taking a promotion with a broken hand. A concerned sensei pointed out my condition to the head instructor and I was informed that I had another hand with which to strike. Again this is an extreme example and I don't suggest training with broken limbs, but I have seen individuals whose practice is as important as breathing to them, these people let very little stop them from training, including pain.

The dynamic of pain is an interesting topic which I wont explore in its entirety here. Suffice to say we each experience pain differently. How this impacts your training rests with the reaction you have to the pain you will experience. You can embrace it, realizing that its a facet of the training, something else to overcome. You can reject it and the training making it something to avoid at all costs.

Even though I belong to school of thought that pain is part of the process, I don't advocate pain for pains sake. Pain is always a byproduct of pushing ourselves harder and longer, making our bodies and minds stronger, each and every day.

You will get stronger, you will be more focused, you will improve your flexibility, you will develop discipline and you will feel pain.

What will you do when that moment arrives?

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body

Sensei Orlando

Progress not perfection

"It takes a thousand days to make a fist, a thousand days to learn a stance and a thousand days to learn to strike". Its possible this saying isn't shared by many martial artists, nevertheless its important to understand what is meant by this saying. You don't hear this shared in many schools because it can be disheartening to the western mindset of " I need everything yesterday". If you listen closely and are fortunate enough to be in a school where this philosophy prevails you will hear it in every class, in one form or another. I have to admit that if someone told me at the beginning of my training that it would take over three years just to learn how to make a fist, I may have seriously reconsidered the whole endeavor. It is the kind of lesson that is self affirming. By that I mean you understand it to be true after you have realized that it took you a thousand days to learn how to make a fist.

In our school there is a mantra that is shared by one of our instructors. "Progress not perfection", which is usually followed by "gradually and eventually". Both are related to each other but they are not the same. What they convey is the attitude needed to excel at something like the martial arts. You do not develop proficiency in what we do overnight, it takes years and years. Years of progress not perfection, moments (long stretches) of frustration followed by brief flashes of insight and ability. One example that comes to mind: A student was working on an evasion for the better part of a year, in essence learning to move the head out of the way of an incoming fist.

Time and again that student kept getting hit, but one moment (and I was able to witness this), a fist came and the student moved effortlessly out of the way, no thought- just pure reflex. It was graceful, efficient, and quite amazing to see. That is progress. The fact that the student continued to get hit in the head afterwards does not negate the fact that the evasion occurred. Progress not perfection.

This is not to say we should not strive for perfection, of course we should. Its a worthwhile goal. It has to be done prudently though, with the knowledge that perfection is difficult(many would say impossible) to attain. In my decades of practice I have yet to do a perfect kata, it doesn't stop me from striving to do so each and every time I practice.

Progress reveals to us that perfection is ever elusive, once you think you have gotten closer to perfection, the bar is raised yet again, the target shifts to a level that is even more difficult, one you didn't even know existed before that moment. That is how progress works and that is why we never quit. If we do quit and settle, then we admit to ourselves that we no longer are seeking perfection, we have grown complacent. In our school we have a character that reads constant polishing. Each day no matter how brightly we have shined in the past we must continue to polish, remember it takes a thousand days just to begin.

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body

Sensei Orlando