As of late, my karate-related reading has raised questions in my mind about both karate and Zen. I’m now in the section of Zen Flesh, Zen Bones that translates Chinese classic from the thirteenth century, the Gateless Gate. Perhaps its older, Chinese origins and ideas present more of a barrier for me.
Maha-Kashapa is enlightened when Buddha twirls a flower in another koan; also note the flower is a circle around a point.
The first tale is short: a monk asks Joshu the master if a dog has Buddha-nature. From there, the stories grow increasingly strange: a former Zen master, unable to correctly answer a student’s question, is transformed into a fox for five hundred rebirths; Master Gutei chops off the finger of a boy imitating him; Kyogen’s fatalistic image of a man hanging by his teeth from a tree over a precipice. Yes, the fingerless boy finds enlightenment. The fox-master gains enlightenment and release through listening to another teacher. Kyogen’s caution against words, while acknowledging our human predicament of needing words to transmit Zen teachings, encourages us to engage koans at the level of experience rather than thought or language.
However, to me these stories feel less accessible than those within 101 Zen Stories. 101 Zen Stories includes anecdotes by Nyogen Senzaki, who lived much later, and helped bring Zen Buddhism to the U.S. So maybe the issue is really my lack of understanding and familiarity with Zen’s Chinese roots.
Karate’s Kempo Roots
Nature is full of circles around points; it appears in animals as well as plants
Oyama, at the end of This is Karate, considers karate’s debts to Zen and Chinese kempo. In fact, Oyama states of his day’s karate trends: “the tendency is to use the straight line and the sharp angle rather than the point and the circle” (pg. 329). Kempo’s use of point and circle, to his mind, is more effective. He writes, “Though it may appear weaker, the point and circle method is actually the more powerful of the two, and it has more advantages when you shift from one technique to another” (327). Accordingly, he introduced several kempo hand and fist positions, as well as tensho, into his students’ karate practice.
Oyama goes on to support his assertion of the strength of the point and circle methods. While in Japanese karate, the karateka blocks and stops an enemy’s blow, says Oyama, the Chinese kempo artist blocks and repels the enemy’s blow (327). According to Oyama, the point and circle survive through many effective karate techniques. He wrote, “…in all karate moves for the hands, feet, or for the entire body, the motion is centered on a point around which we make a gentle arcing move.”
Certainly all of my Kyokushin karate instructors emphasized using your whole body for strikes and blocks. From Sensei to the black belts who led class, they all agreed on this point. When you use your hips, you use your whole body to support a move. For advanced students, we emphasize the “hikite,” or opposite hand, as much as we do the the striking hand. Every strike is stronger with an opposite “draw back.” The draw back winds up for a strike or block. With every move, we engage the whole body. The whole body is a circle revolving around a point, focusing our energy to support punches, kicks, blocks or strikes.
Chinese Koans and Karate
Even the rainbow is a circle in progress. What is its point?
This brings me back to the Chinese koans, which are just as much the basis of Japanese Zen Buddhism as kempo is to Kyokushin karate. They are intended to be hard and strange, in order to break the mind open for enlightenment. The author, reputedly Mumon, will often, in his commentaries, apparently contradict the point of the original koan. His ending poems, however, offer humor and a fig leaf back to the koan, and the reader. They circle about a point, like kempo, but the reader might need to use his or her hips, rather than head, for understanding.
Karate, like nature, may combine angles and straight lines to form circles about points.
Maybe because last week was a shorter week, the workdays and evenings were extra hectic. Nevertheless, it was meditation week, so I want to share at least one meditation entry. Our daughter has been having some issues with friends. This required more grown-up involvement than usual, so my attention has been there. I hope to do a better job in the future of keeping up with this blog.
The weather in Burbank is playing a prominent role in our lives right now. The wildfires in Southern California have pumped enough smoke into the air that it is not healthy to be outdoors. Ash so coats the leaves of my crepe myrtle that newer leaves are a different color than older ones. Our karate club had discussed meeting in a park, and we opted for Zoom instead. A week ago, we had a record-breaking heat wave to keep us indoors. This is all in addition to the pandemic.
Meditation Entry from Tuesday, September 8th.
Volunteer Walnut Sapling
I meditated for ten minutes today. It was quiet. I heard a cricket, but no birds at first. One airplane roar overhead. The air is damp–it’s cloudy and feels as if it may rain. We need it. Over the weekend, we had record-breaking beat. I brought two plants indoors: a “volunteer” walnut tree and a Santa Barbara hibiscus. I’d early lost the walnut sapling to the heat. The hibiscus suffered from the heat, too, and is struggling. It wilted and is in shock. Its leaves are brown, wilted and shriveled, but it has very small green leaves.
Last Friday, I hurriedly dug it up and put it in a pot. I feared the coming heat wave would finish it off. Transplanting it most likely added to its stress. However, I feared the 106 degree temperatures on Saturday and Sunday would finish it off.
My husband is a “lead” for a neighborhood website called NextDoor. People post everything from ads for garage sales, inquires on local street name origins and notes about lost and found pets. One neighbor had posted that a couple squirrels in their backyard died due to the heat wave over the weekend. Remembering this during meditation made me think about our own squirrels and birds. I’ve been looking for a little black and white Phoebe that likes our compost. I haven’t seen it today.
The next time we have a heat wave, I should open the shed and put out bowls of water. Yes mosquitoes may benefit from standing water, but other wildlife may as well. The neighborhood wildlife enriches our lives and is certainly worth preserving.
Focus, Phones and Wildlife
I have been having an on-going debate with F about whether or not to give her her cell during on-line classes. Her father and I contend having a phone during class will be distracting. If she texts or receives texts while the teacher talks, she will miss important concepts. Also, if she were in a physical classroom, the students would not be allowed to have cells out during class.
To make a point, I asked S to text F while I read an article out loud. I chose an article from the LA Times concerning the effects of global warming on vintners. She seemed to retain a remarkable amount of information when I questioned her. Then she confessed that S’s text messages had not come through. I aimed the rest of my questions at S. We discovered that he, in fact, had not absorbed as many of the points from the article as F, since his attention was divided.
Then we performed the same experiment on S. I found a different article about big cats being sited more frequently in Chile, also from the LA Times. Covid-19 restrictions had reduced traffic and other human activities, allowing cautious big cats to explore the suburbs. This time, the experiment went as expected: S received a few silly texts from F. Honestly, I was surprised each of them retained as much as they had. However, each also missed one of the major points of the article. I was still able to make my point: divided attention is not as effective as focused attention.
On-line learning and Socialization
F’s high school had Open House on-line this past Thursday. D and I put the question about phones and communication to each of F’s teachers. F’s contention was that, during a normal class, she would be able to talk to other kids in class. During on-line learning, her phone could provide a means to talk to other kids.
At least one of her teachers, her pre-calculus teacher, wanted nothing interfering with her students’ abilities to focus. She suggested a quiet place with no distractions for students. She asked parents and kids to put away phones during class.
Other teachers allowed the use of Zoom or Google chat for students to communicate, or used break-out rooms so kids can see each other and work together. Perhaps her Chemistry teacher, an older, animated gentleman, was most concerned about the loss of social interaction for the kids. He actively looks for ways to help kids connect to each other, as well as to him.
Overall we were impressed with the teachers and how they are handling the restrictions placed on them by the pandemic. We were also not convinced F needs access to a cell phone during class time. Her grandfather was less convinced, and suggested we try it out for a bit. He is often the one suggesting we test out our assumptions, and advocating for giving the kids more autonomy. So maybe the Chemistry teacher might allow the use of a cell during his class.
Finally Karate and Zen
So how does any of this relate to karate and Zen, other than through our lives? I acknowledge that’s the most important through-line. However, I’m towards the end of Oyama’s “This is Karate.” He dedicates a while section to Zen, and begins it with “Karate is Zen” (pg 320, What is Karate? by Masutatus Oyama.) He goes on to describe Zen as that which animates great artists and swordsmen, in addition to karateka.
What does it mean to say that karate is Zen? We could try to define Zen, but, by its own definition of itself, it resists such analysis. However, if we look at descriptions of what it does when it is attained, it may be best to understand it in this manner.
One Spirit to Cleave Stone
Oyama goes on to tell an old Chinese tale about a man who practiced archery late into the night, out in the country. This archer wished to truly master his art, and practiced constantly. One night, under a bright moon, he practiced in the woods. The only sound he could hear was his own arrows. Suddenly, up above the man on a rocky outcropping, the man saw the shadow of a great cat, perhaps a tiger, crouched to spring. The creature growled. The man swiftly drew an arrow, aimed, and let it fly; it hit the tiger. The man returned home.
The next morning, he decided to visit the spot to discover the kind of great cat he had killed the night before. He found no animal carcass, but rather his own arrow, stuck deep in a stone of the nearby crag. According to Oyama, the instant that the man thought his life was in danger, “… all of his spirit was immediately concentrated in the arrow, which he let fly with greater force than ever before ” (pg. 321) Oyama calls this concentration of spirit, or focus, “one spirit to cleave a stone.” He gives other examples of legendary swordsmen who fight with a single-mindedness that also reveal Zen.
Zen and Single-Minded Focus
By Oyama’s description, Zen, or the nothingness that one reaches, is actually a complete, single-minded focus–a focus so strong that one’s self seems to fall away, or be entirely concentrated in some activity, be it archery, swordsmanship, karate or meditation. When we practice karate, we strive to reach that single-minded state, where there is only that specific action: a strong upper block, or the downward force of a shutō-uchi on a brick, for the forward momentum of a mai-geri to an opponent’s middle section.
Zen in karate, then, can be described as the laser focusing of the self into an action such that there is no self. There are no concerns about dinner or chores or friends’ gossip or one’s hairstyle or scratching a mosquito bite on your ankle. The mind is clear.
I could point out to F that it is no accident that we do karate without phones. We do not and send and receive text messages while training. She knows this already. She easily focuses when she stands among karateka. Encouraging her to bring her karate to pre-calculus, or chemistry, or any other challenging school subject is what I ought to do.
Full Circle: Zen, Nature and Our Duty to the World
Finally, Oyama, as well as many Zen masters turned to nature as a source of renewal or inspiration for finding Enlightenment. Oyama, according to his own accounts, left human society for three years to live in the mountains, and at temples, to study Zen and practice karate. Reputedly, he meditated under waterfalls, struggled with wild animals and smashed stones.
I wonder how he would feel if he were alive today and living in California. Record-breaking heat, wildfires and smoke, clearly all made worse by human activities, threaten our health as well as our ability to go out into nature. I’m guessing he would recommend we devote effort to preserving the natural world. One cannot meditate under waterfalls if there are no more natural bodies of water, or struggle with wild animals where there are none.
Macro-micro
Santa Barbara Hibiscus before the heat wave
The two articles we read in our little concentration test were both about the impact of human activities on the natural world. Global warming adversely effected the crops of vintners: they planted crops earlier and those had less time to mature due to the more blazing summers. On the converse of this, reduced human activity in Chile, due to the pandemic, was allowing wildlife to flourish in more suburban areas, and their presence was both studied and welcomed by the human residents.
Within the little eco-system of our yard, I nearly lost my little walnut sapling to the heat. It had turned to a single sad stem with only tiny leaf-buds remaining. I was sure it was dead. However, bringing it indoors during the worst of the heat wave, watering it, and moving it between the shade and sun seemed to help it. It sprang back. Now my little purple hibiscus has suffered an equally sad fate and I’m hoping to nurse it back to health.
Conclusion
We have to do what we can to heal this world of ours. However, small, we can turn off lights when not in use; take care to avoid pesticides or poisons with the potential to kill wildlife when we garden, leave out water for wildlife during a heat wave. And yes, as humans, we are also obliged to look at the suffering of other humans and do what we can to help others. We can donate to charities that feed and clothe those less fortunate, especially the homeless.As humans, we are not separate from the natural world, but part of it. For this reason, Oyama reminds us that karate can help transform us to “better humans, better members of society and better family members.”
It is Labor Day, and with the exception of laundry and dishes, I have taken a break from most labor. Writing and karate are both labors of love, so it is an ideal time to add an entry to this site.
Regarding personal fitness: after my shodan test, I’ve continued to do push-ups, sit-ups and squats in the morning but primarily push-ups in the evenings. I also still run on the treadmill about two days a week. Maybe I can lift weights, or find different exercises to do, in order to mix up my routine. I want to maintain my level of fitness, but no longer feel a need to do knuckle push-ups on bare floors. I use a mat in the mornings, but the floor in the evenings because it’s faster. This week I have reached “meditation” week. On Sensei’s advice, I rest from exercises, with the exception of karate class and cardio, on the fourth week. I do need to meditate today. Hopefully meditating more this week will give me a bit more to write about!
Challenges of Distance Learning
Our household has been adjusting to school over Zoom. I recently received a letter from a sister in North Carolina. She asked how the kids have been adjusting to school during the pandemic. I’d like to share my response. When the pandemic is over, remembering how we coped may be interesting.
Here it is.
During the first week of school, Zoom class presented us with some surprises. D had set up both kids with computers in the dining room a couple years back. They did much of their homework side by side, in the dining room. Before the pandemic, having the kids next to each other in the dining room, doing homework, didn’t present issues.
When the pandemic shut down the schools last March, they were ready to go on-line, and did fine. During our first week of school this semester, however, we encountered serious issues. D put video cameras and headphones on each computer, and we assumed that was all we would need to do.
When Pre-Calculus and Band Collide!
On Wednesday morning during the first week of school, F had Pre-Calculus at the same time that S had Band. F’s teacher decided to give a pop-quiz style assessment. She wanted to make sure her kids were in the correct math level, and properly prepared for the coming year. So F was taking a test.
S’s Band teacher, generously wanting to make band fun for children who had not yet been able to pick up their musical instruments from the school, or purchase ones, had her students seek household items that could be used as instruments. So, while F took an exam, S literally banged on a pot next to her. He got up, tore about the house in search of some item as instructed by his teacher, returned to his spot and started “playing” whatever household item he’d found. S even asked F where certain household items were to be found. F responded, “Shut up! I’m in the middle of a test!” So his assignment that day was a cross between a treasure hunt and a home-made drumming session. It looked fun. Hers was not fun.
Needless to say, F did not do well on her exam. Fortunately, her math teacher did not count the test as part of their grade, but she strongly recommended that any student who did not do well change to a different math class. F was distraught. We emailed the teacher to let her know what happened to F. For the next week, D sat with F to review math material to make sure she actually understood the math she needed for Pre-Calculus and felt prepared for the coming year.
Snails race to rescue unsuspecting students from logarithms
Okay, I have to post this really cool video that D used to review logarithms with F. Just as I depended upon a humble earth worm to guide me through Tabata, this instructor, whose witty handle is NancyPi, employs the snail to help students solve logarithms. I loved this video so much I posted it at work, too.
Watch this for a very cute snail drawing, as well as a clear explanation of solving logarithms
Lessons Heeded
Now, on Mondays and Wednesdays, F has a laptop set up in her room while S is downstairs in the dining room. So now, if he’s playing household items or even his flute while she’s taking a test, she can simply shut the door.
So distance-learning has presented some challenges that we needed to overcome. Now our kids, and we, are pretty tech-savvy. If we were thrown off by, say, not anticipating that a middle schooler’s schedule might hamper a high schooler’s schedule, I really feel for those families that are less tech savvy.
One of our friends has a son with autism, and for a child like him, Zoom is no substitute for in-person learning. Burbank is considering opening the schools for children with disabilities, ESL learners and children with individual learning plans–basically for kids who need extra help. I sincerely hope they are able to work out a way to safely get these kids back in school, with the personal instruction they need.
Last week we celebrated four birthdays (my nephew, my sister-in-law, my husband D and me), and we saw Sensei in the park last Saturday morning. He spoke words of encouragement to all of us, and handed out belts and certificates.
We arrived home to a pancake breakfast prepared by my nephew from Northern California. It was also D’s birthday, so we got take out from our favorite restaurant, shared it with D’s brother’s family and the grandparents. Afterwards, we watched Zodiac. D had worked with Aaron, the son of Robert Graysmith, who authored the original book. It was disturbing, mainly because it is a true story, but a good movie.
On Sunday, we peformed those chores neglected while entertaining out-of-town guests and celebrating birthdays. On Monday, we were off running.
I want to share my entry from Saturday.
Ceremony of Belt Awards
Today is D’s birthday. He slept in. The kids and I rose at 7 am. We were at the Figure 8 park by 8:30 am. T, TF, B, Sensei AJ and our Sensei were all there, as well as many of the kids. Sensei brought a large box, filled with certificates and belts. With help from T and B, he arranged them in a row on the green. His certificates this time were issued by the California Budoshinkai Association, the new style he is in the process of creating. We are still an IFK affiliate.
It was an emotional experience, seeing so many friends and my own children receiving their belts. Certainly I felt emotional upon receiving my own belt. Obviously this ceremony was not the one I imagined a year ago. Kyokushin, however, is about seeking absolute truth, or absolute reality–this is our preferred translation in our dojo community. Buddhism teaches us to let go of illusion, including and especially self-delusion. Wisdom will bring us to recognize beauty in that reality, when we can strip away enough self-delusion to see it.
Imagination versus Reality
Before the pandemic, I imagined a ten-person kumite match: most of the folks whipping my tail would be good friends from the dojo. I imagined it within the dojo building that Sensei no longer rents, along with board or brick breaking to demonstrate our skills, along with a party afterwards. But the reality is we gathered in the morning, outdoors, in a neighborhood park, under blooming crepe myrtle trees, standing on grass, surrounded by our greater Burbank community. Sensei announced that two persons from our dojo have been diagnosed with Covid-19. I hope they are coping okay and not seriously ill.
Many of us gathered there in the park, distanced but well, dressed in street clothes instead of gis. Despite the pandemic and the many woes inflicted upon our group that might have pulled us apart, we were there together, at least, those of us who could be there. Some others do join us over Zoom that were not at liberty to come to a park. One pair of children were allowed to come only briefly to receive their belts, and had to leave right away. Three members of their family are immunocompromised, so these children, understandably, kept their contact brief.
We are fortunate to be together, mostly over Zoom but sometimes in the park, like this gathering. We are fortunate to not have lost anyone in our little dojo community to this disease at this time. Granted, preserving our community through this crisis took a lot of work.
Kumite
This was our real fight: our kumite match was against a plague that would pull us apart with fear, illness and financial troubles, all against a backdrop of political unrest and dissension. Though we’ve received our belts and certificates, this particular kumite match is far from over. We have to support each other in the face of this plague, build harmony from discord, and hold our little community, along with Burbank, California, the United States and the free world and finally, the whole world, together. We are a world community of humans, with more binding us together than separating us. Also, all living things in this world are interdependent upon keeping our environment, and each other, in good health. We’ve made it this far.
Sensei saw fit to honor many of us with belts and certificates for our hard work. He also gave high honors to T and AJ by asking our dojo community to address them now as “Sensei,” or Teacher. They well deserve this honor.
Performing Breaks
Yesterday, in our own back yard, F, S and I broke up chunks of concrete and rocks with shuto hands. So we did our breaks before receiving our belts. That evening, S and I showed his young cousin the rocks and chunks of concrete that we’d broken. He was actually more impressed by the concrete breaks, since the rocks looked more “breakable” to him. S and I found a thinner piece of concrete and demonstrated how to break it on the patio. S’s young cousin listened carefully, and, using the technique we demonstrated for him, he broke it!
Sensei had told us that receiving a black belt is about teaching, sharing what you know. I was so excited to see my ten year old nephew present the fragments of his shattered hunk of concrete to his own father with pride. His was a clean, straight break.
The Loss of Chadwick Boseman
Our family was saddened to read about the death of Chadwick Boseman. Sometimes we fight hard and do not win. Not winning the battle, or even the war, does not make you less of a warrior. On screen, Chadwick fought super-villains. In real life, he had more formidable foes: racism, on top of the usual demons faced by artists and other creatives, and finally, cancer. He deserves his own black belt for tenacity and his drive to share his gifts with the world.
If you have not watched his speech to the Screen Actors’ Guild, it is well worth your time.
This is another kumite match we, as a society, need to take on and defeat: racism, including systemic racism and unconscious bias. Exacerbating these situations is the problem of poverty, another formidable foe, but one we can defeat, if we have the will.
Family from Northern California are visiting with us. Rather, they were smoked out, and chose to come and see us. My husband’s brother Joseph, wife Fahr and son Ez (Ezekiel) drove down to see us on Fahr’s birthday. (Fahr is a nickname.)
We set up picnic tables in and chairs in the back yard. Everyone wore masks, until we cracked open a bottle of red wine. My mother-in-law put out a bowl of cherries. Joseph and his family had eaten on the drive down.
An Apt Metaphor
Fahr had an amusing metaphor for discussing the COVID-19 exposure level that people are comfortable with: it’s like discussing sex: individual boundaries and preferences regarding birth control have to be set. It was an apt comparison: people really do have a range of tolerance for different kinds of exposures, which can vary according to who they deal with. So we spent sometime talking about that.
Fahr also had a similarly useful suggestion: respect the wishes of the most conservative member of the group. In our case, that’s D. He warms any food prepared outside our home to kill potential viruses, still sprays down purchased items with a diluted bleach water solution, quarantines non-perishable items for 3 days in one room of the house, and prefers to wear a mask in most social situations involving persons outside our household. I should mention Joseph is a nurse practitioner who is tested frequently for COVID-19 exposure, and he is somewhat less conservative. Nevertheless, Fahr wanted us to respect D’s boundaries.
I found Fahr’s take on exposure insightful. I loved the fact that Fahr repurposed guidelines stemming out of feminism. Fahr, I should mention, worked for many years as a doula , is a credentialed life-coach, studied ancient healing methods in addition to undergraduate and graduate studies in the humanities. Feminism is deeply rooted in the individual’s conscious relationship to her or his own body. So, of course, when considering matters of the body and personal boundaries, as we all must now do during this pandemic, feminism presents a logical framework for coping with social relations and our comfort level with exposure to disease.
Joseph, Fahr, Ez and their small dog are staying at a nice hotel within walking distance from our home, and we’ve met almost every evening, either in our back yard or the hotel’s outdoor pool area. We’re looking forward to seeing them tonight.
F is teaching karate over Zoom with T. tonight. I hope that Ez will be able to join their class.
Oh, and Rocks!
S’s rock fragments
Now for the fun stuff: rocks!
Since we may have guests again in our back yard, B and I cleared the furniture and the build-up of junk from the back patio, so I could power-spray it down. While helping out, I mentioned to S I’d been looking for a rock to break. We looked at and discussed rocks while clearing some of the beach stones from the patio.
S and I examined a curved rock together, and what angle we might strike it at. We looked at a few other ones, and B took out a smooth composite one maybe a bit more than half an inch thick. S, thinking he’d try it out to see if it would be an appropriate one to break, gave it a wack against the pavement, cleaved it smoothly in half! He said, “Oh, I didn’t mean to do that, Mom. I just wanted to see if it might work for you.”
Including a penny so you can see the thickness of S’s rock
I was so proud that he broke it!
F’s concrete fragments
Months earlier, I’d also placed chunks of old concrete that I’d dug up from various spots in the yard around our little kumquat bush. Those caught my eye. I suggested to S that we try those. So we retrieved chunks of concrete and broke those first. My reasoning: we’ve watched Sensei and our nidans break cinder blocks. Those are concrete. S and I easily chopped through the thinner chunks of old concrete.
F came out to see what we were doing. She took a concrete fragment and easily broke that in half!
And thickness of the concrete, demonstrated by a penny
I found an actual rock that looked thin and breakable. Oyama advised his students to do just that with river rocks: find one that looks easy to break, and break it! Then try a larger or thicker one, but build up. I broke my rock.
My rock fragments against a penny
My broken rock fragments, also posed against a penny.
Yesterday, I got up a little earlier than usual for a Sunday and printed out the registration forms for my son for religious school. It will start after Labor Day, and we were asked to turn in paperwork yesterday.
D and I then tuned in to a livestream meditation and lecture by Anam Thubten, a monk of Tibetan Buddhism, and founder of the Dharmata Foundation. We have attended his lectures in person, too, and he is an excellent teacher. I was able to sit through the opening chants, prayers, and a few minutes of the meditation, then I left to drop off B’s paperwork with the Temple.
Yes, please don’t tell our rabbi we moonlight with a Buddhist monk! I’m kidding. In all seriousness, if our rabbi heard we’d listened to lectures on meditation, he would most likely tell us about the role of meditation in Judaism and draw interesting parallels between Buddhism and Judaism through, say, Kabbalah practices or even cite Ezekiel, who, according to Wikipedia, may have been the first Jewish mystic. So a real discussion with our Rabbi would probably end up along those lines.
The Temple was holding “drive through” religious school registration, beginning at 10 am and ending around noon. I did not want to be too late. When I arrived, my car was the only one in the parking lot, and the Rabbi and our Temple office manager were very happy to see me. They took my paperwork, gave me a packet of materials for my son, and presented me with a collection of shakers, tambourines, hand flutes and other cool little instruments, courtesy of the Temple’s music director. I chose a beautiful, polished wooden shaker for B.
The fact that I was the only parent there, of course, worried me. A parent, earlier that morning, had emailed me, disappointed that we planned to hold Religious School over Zoom. She has younger children, and said they are already struggling with school over Zoom. I emailed her that our school has to follow the city and county guidelines regarding opening. Rabbi was interested to know about this parent and hopefully he will call her. We may lose families who simply do not want to pay for Zoom classes. In any case, I chatted with the Rabbi and office manager a good fifteen minutes before the next parent arrived for registration. Then that was my cue to leave.
I’m glad I went when I did. After all, the teachings of Buddhism and the practice of meditation center, to some degree, on minimizing suffering. I fear if I had waited too long to drop off our paperwork at the Temple, I may have caused suffering, in the form of anxiety, in these two kind people. And causing them suffering while they are performing an important service for the Jewish community would certainly be unkind.
Karate transforming discomfort and pain into health
When I arrived home, D was still meditating with Anam Thubten, so I joined them. During the break, something occurred to me: karate, based in Japanese Zen Buddhism, has a different relationship suffering, or, at least, discomfort and pain. Normally we’d lump discomfort and pain in with human suffering and, by extension, the cycle of samsara. In karate, however, we learn to get “comfortable” with discomfort, and tolerate pain. Why? We expect this self-discipline to improve our health and, ultimately, reduce suffering. And they do.
Push-ups, sit-ups and squats can certainly make you uncomfortable in the moment. Pushing your body with jump rope, or going for a run, or by lifting weights can make your muscles sore and tax your breathing. The strength, endurance and increased cardio-vascular performance you derive from these will, then, improve both your mental and physical health. Karate, and other fitness regimens, does recognize that this apparent, short-term “suffering” does lead to better health. This better health, in turn, decreases human suffering by reducing disease and disability.
Karate, when performed properly, transforms suffering to health and strength. Its foundation in Buddhism courts this realization.
Through sanchin (a kata in which your senpais and even kohais may be called upon to hit you), kumite (fighting), self-defense and tameshiwari (breaking boards, bricks, stones, etc.), we learn techniques for tolerating pain, and even channel the energy from pain towards our spiritual practice. This sounds weird, so let me elaborate. The knowledge that we can defend ourselves against attack, through specific self-defense techniques, clearly grants some peace of mind.
Sanchin and tameshiwari, in particular, teach wisdom. How? Sanchin focuses on discipline and self-mastery. When we are completely focused during this kata, we are not thinking about a self receiving blows from other karateka, but rather, keeping the abdomen, thigh and arm muscles tight, correct breathing, and the next move of the kata. This kata is a mediation: the self, including that self receiving blows, is a trick of mind. The goal is to dissolve that self in a resolve to stay rooted, tight, breathing and in motion. Anam Thubten wrote a book called, “No Self No Problem.” Sanchin holds to this principle: there is no pain if there is no self to feel pain.
Tameshiwari pits our mind against our mind. The mind sees a brick and says, “I can’t break that with just my bare hand! It’s too hard!” But the karateka knows this thinking, like the brick, can be broken. Having seen Sensei and other karateka break bricks, bats and even cinder blocks with bare hands and feet, we see that that mind is not correct. Sensei teaches, demonstrates, coaches, discusses techniques, then orders, “Break that brick!” and you do! You chop through both the brick and your mental resistance.
The first time I broke a brick, I must have wacked it six times. It took me a while probably ten minutes or so. My right hand was sore after three wacks and I had to remove my wedding ring and switch to the left, but I broke it. During our holiday demo, the next time I attempted it, I broke it in three fast, successive wacks, but it took me less than a minute.
Sensei says, at the moment of the break, the Universe suddenly opens, maybe for just a split second. Those seconds are exhilarating. Enlightenment seekers want those openings. Of course, the enlightened karateka knows that breaking a break will also give your bones little micro-breaks. If these are allowed to heal properly, your bones will grow stronger. Breaking again too soon, because your mind craves that wonderful feeling, can leave you with broken bones instead of bricks! If your mind still craves the Opening of the Universe, it can seek it through meditation, at least until the body has healed.
So, we who practice karate, we play with suffering and enlightenment. We resist our own minds and try to trick the mind into finding an Opening of the Universe. Anam Thubten offers another, albeit more methodical, possibly slower but less painful approach. The goal is the same: the Self drops away and Consciousness becomes that Opening of the Universe, where we feel all existence–all conscious life–is one.
My Rabbi might say that, according to Jewish mysticism and/or meditation, we also leave the self to the One: “’ehyeh ’ăšer ’ehyeh “, or “I am who I am.”
How is a shodan different from an ichi kyu? The answer may surprise you.
Sunday, August 23rd, 2020
As you will hopefully see, I’ve created a new category for posting thoughts as a shodan. I will try to keep this up to date. Honestly, I found it helpful to both my karate and my writing practices to keep this on-line journal up-to-date. At the same time, I also feel that the transition from ichi kyu to shodan deserves a “marker,” so creating a new category to post under helps with that psychological transition.
Photo taken in my yard after our Shodan test, August 8th
I have continued to keep a personal written journal of daily ten minute writes, and have not missed any days. My first journal entry after the shodan test, however, was a bit tongue in cheek.
Of course I’d like to draw a line at the shodan test, and say,”On August 7th, I was an ichi kyu, and now, on August 9th, I am a shodan!” While this is true, it is only partially true. First, Sensei will normally invite folks to promote who have done the work to be ready to promote. So typically, you are ready to test for shodan when you finally have the skills to do that test. But also, shodan really means “first rank,” or “competent.” Again, when absorb that information, it is more a reason for humility than for pride. I’ve moved out of kindergarten and into first grade, in the karate world. Yay me!
This entry is actually from August 9th, the day after my shodan test.
Shodan versus ichi kyu
So what does a new shodan need to do, besides finish Masutatsu Oyama’s book?
Laundry! But how would laundry be different for a shodan than an ichi kyu? Perhaps a shodan will pull the laundry out of the dryer when it finishes, rather than restarting the dryer in the “fluff” cycle a few times throughout the day before getting around to taking it out and folding it, like an ichi kyu.
Yard work! Perhaps a shodan will carefully examine the old collection of ocean rocks on the patio for one she can break, rather than pushing the rock box out of the way of the weed eater.
Parenting! The shodan shall take the other shodan and junior shodan to Baskin Robbins to choose a celebratory ice cream.
Dishes! A shodan will part with Tupperware that has no lid, rather than shove it back under the cabinet to deal with later. Unless, of course, this particular lidless Tupperware would work as a replacement for the cardboard box holding ocean rocks.
Cooking! A shodan will pull the old, frozen fruit from the freezer and use it for cooking a large batch of oatmeal, knowing that my junior shodan and young adult shodan like oatmeal. An ichi kyu might put it off for another week.
Why would a shodan be better at chores than an ichi kyu? A shodan understands performing time-consuming, tedious chores can build character, and that these will not become easier if more time is allowed to pass before tackling them. Also, some of these chores will result in happy children with ready-made breakfast for the next several days.
So that was it: my first journal entry as a shodan.
Hello, just in case anyone is still reading the daily logs: I’m planning to do 2 things, and may need a few days to pull it off:
1. Add one or two new categories, other than Daily Logs. At this point, I’m thinking a little “getting started” fitness page, and some kind of “shodan” version of daily logs.
2. Put up more of the backlog entries.
Last Saturday was a major milestone for both my daughter and me. Next week school starts, so I’ve taken some time this week to just unplug, meditate and plan what’s next.
And, of course, rest a little!
F, S and I will sleep like cats this week.
And yes, given we have such very cute cats, I consider it further evidence of steely shodan nerve that I have not peppered this blog with their photos.
But realistically speaking, I must admit that many things: homes, work meetings over Zoom, newscasts, even work places and stores, can be improved by the presence of cats, dogs or children.
I should make this the last entry for the Daily Logs, and come up with a new category now that F and I have passed our shodan tests.
But first, I promised to explain about earthworms!
This is what I wrote regarding the shodan test on August 8th.
August 8th: Shodan Test!
Last night, F and I packed the car with most of what we needed: bo staffs, masks, sunscreen. I left a cooler with bottled water on the counter.
We woke up at 6:30am. I fried each of us an egg and made shots of coffee. F likes iced lattes and I like mine warm. I also wore contacts, so working out in a mask would be easier. The combination of glasses, working out and masks can often result in foggy glasses and poor vision. These contacts are pretty old, and they are both “left” eyes, but I see well in them at a distance.
As instructed, we did not wear our gis. We wore work-out clothes, running shoes, masks–preferably vented ones–and our ichi kyu belts. Senpai M, now considered a Sensei to us when she visits, named it “ninja mode.” Our Sensei was concerned about attracting attention, since formal group gatherings are highly discouraged.
F and I arrived at the park around the same time as TF and T. B was already there, stretching with Sensei and his wife W. “Get out here! The test has already started!” yelled Sensei. That lit a fire under all of us. We rushed to drop our coolers and staves under a tree and join the workout. As a long-time, tough fitness trainer, W is a Sensei in her own right. She devised the tabata portion of the workout.
We did stretches, then kihon. Sensei kept us thirty feet apart. We were allowed to pull our masks down to breath better, as long as we maintained that greater distance. After kihon, we did the kata walk.
Next, Sensei suggested we remove our shoes, and we did Pinan Ichi Ura in the grass. We had practiced this in the dirt path, but there were a few joggers on the path. Also, I foolishly left my shoes right in my own path for Uras, and I heard Sensei call out, “Everyone watch your shoes.” I was a bit rattled trying to avoid stepping on my sneakers. At the end, I forgot the ending shuto mawashi ukes for the kata and did punches instead. I noticed I was the only person ending in zenkutsu dachi. For a moment, I panicked and feared I’d done the wrong kata all together. Later, when F and I grabbed water together, I confirmed we’d both done the same kata, then my mistake finally dawned on me.
We put our shoes back on for the bo staff katas. Sensei required bo sono ichi from the ichi kyus, but T had taught us bo sono ni. F, TF and I tried it. Sensei noticed we each did it and thanked us. Afterwards, T and B did Kanku. F tried to do some of Kanku. She had learned it last summer, but had not practiced it in a long time. She knelt part of the way through, if I remember correctly. T and B were super-sharp doing that kata. Somewhere in there, we also did the shodan and nidan syllabi.
Sensei W took over, and had us do four sets of tabata. Initially the Senseis said “three or four,” but we knew “three or four” meant four. It was, after all, a test for shodans and nidans. For the first exercise, we did side shuffles and bear crawls. Next, mountain climbers, followed by one leg repeated kicks, until W told us to switch sides.Sometimes we did not switch sides. Finally, we did long jumps, followed by a push-up and high-knee jog backwards as our last set.
I want to say each set lasted a minute or to. I’m honestly not sure how long. W modified the original tabata timing to more closely resemble a two minute fight. Between sets, we had twenty seconds to rest. These exercises were intended to raise our heart rates rapidly and wear us out, and they succeeded.
About half way through, right when I was getting quite tired during one of the jump-push-up-jog-back sessions, I noticed a big, long earthworm lying in the grass, very close to me. Might I inadvertently squish it?
I also remembered Sensei’s story about how, at least from the Tai Chi perspective, when you need energy, you can ask the mountains or sky or some force of nature for help. I also remembered the camp-out in Malibu Canyon State Park, years ago, when the three of us, F, Sensei and I, were in a pool of water considered sacred by the peoples who had lived there. It was late at night, very dark, but something that we think resembled a large turtle came up next to F, and Sensei felt as if she may have summoned it. We did not know exactly what it was, but we talked for years about F’s “turtle spirit.”
In that moment, I felt that little earth worm needed protecting. When we reached our twenty second rest period, I placed bottles on either side of it. I laid both bottles flat, so neither would topple over onto it. The worm spread itself out length-wise, so I gave it plenty of space between the two bottles. During and after the sets, I checked on it, as it began to burrow down into the grass. Directing my mind to the earth worm actually distracted me from feeling tired or worrying about the test. After each set, the worm was less and less visible. When we finished, I couldn’t see it anymore, but I could see a little opening in the grass where it had been. I poured some water around the spot.
After the test, I thought of the earthworm as my personal testing “spirit guide.” My husband, after all, had recently named my friend Jessica and me the “sisters of the dirt.” I also knew it was likely that Jessica had watched part of the test. Her apartment complex is next to the park, and I’d texted her we’d be there. She texted later that she had, in fact, watched us discreetly, right around 8am.
Sensei congratulated us at the end of the test. We had all passed. We took pictures together. He also explained that he needed time away to figure out his own situation, but would be in touch when he had the belts. Our belts would not have “international” as part of the Japanese lettering, but would say “California.” He is no longer part of the IFK; also our martial arts club has not formally registered as a non-profit or incorporated, so though individuals had paid IFK memberships under our old dojo, our current organization doesn’t yet have a legal entity, let alone any affiliation with any other karate entity. Still, as a San Dan, our Sensei can grant our ranks, and did.
F’s first brick-break from 2016
When we arrived home, I joined B outside for the Zoom Saturday morning karate class, which had already started. Senpai K, who is quite young, was teaching and doing a very good job. I made it through my second kihon, still in my “ninja” outfit. T joined as well.
F spoke with Senpai (Sensei) M as soon as we got home. I spoke with her later that evening. It was so nice to get caught up with her. I also thanked her for calling F and giving her words of encouragement the day before. F really needed it, but she did just fine.
We both slept like stones that night.
A native California Oak, in honor of our California karate shodans and nidans
F and I both passed! It was difficult, but also really cool, and so great to see Sensei, his wife (who is another kind of Sensei in her own right) and the other senpais there to test. We all made it through.
Photo from 9/7/2020: my old ichi kyu belt under my new shodan belt; we waited a couple weeks before our belts arrived. See 9/2/2020 for belt ceremony description
I had help from an earthworm. I’ll explain tomorrow.
We also made it back home to participate in the karate Zoom class.
And I probably spent an hour on the phone (and F, too) with our fantastic Senpai/Sensei who moved to Rochester, NY.
The grandparents bought Vietnamese take-out for the family to celebrate, and that was fantastic and filling.
