Dragon flanked by the kids’ bonsai in the bay window, with cats
Tuesday Night with Sensei R
Tuesday evening, Sensei R taught class. He asked each of us to think of three words to describe what kind of karateka we are or aspire to be. At the end of class, he had each of us share those words. Everyone came up with such great descriptors: creative, disciplined, resilient, strong, wise, calm, peaceful, boundary-breaking, open, hopeful, learning, growing, accurate, determined. A young ninja among us aspired to be accurate, intelligent and lethal. I thought it interesting that Sensei N. chose verbs, and he was the only one to do so.
I chose resilient, strong and peaceful; these wild flowers, also strong, resilient and peaceful, photographed in the high mountains of Colorado; I took the photo a year ago when we rented an RV and drove to Colorado. We tooled around there in the summer of 2019, visiting state and national parks, for about a month.
Sensei R also had each of us make up a short kata. Higher rank must use five moves while lower rank must use three. The short katas were often also reflective of the karateka demonstrating. Junior shodans, of course, incorporated more difficult jumps. I tend to like to mirror the left and right sides. I am a grown-up interested in balance, and, uh, not slipping in the grass in my back yard.
Over all, it was a thoroughly enjoyable class.
Friday Night with Senpai G
On Friday night, one of our junior shodans, Senpai G, aged fourteen, led a class in a similar vein. She started out by having a set of exercises associated with words inspired by Halloween. For example “skull” or “graveyard” were two. She asked class members to pick from her list. We did not know which exercises were associated with which words, but we performed the exercises. Many of the exercises came from either karate or her school’s physical ed classes. So we’d do jumping jacks, squats and jodan uke blocks, for example.
Afterwards, she went through the class and had each student name their favorite exercise or karate move, followed by their least favorite. Then, she had that student lead us in twenty of our most favorite exercise and roughly thirty of our least favorite. In my case, Senpai G timed the exercise. I discovered that I was not alone in disliking the stretch requiring us to stretch our legs out on either side in a sitting “splits,” then lean or place our heads on the ground. (This, by the way, is still aspirational for me. I am lucky if I have my head closer than two fists to the ground.)
For some students’ choices, she devised a short “renraku,” in which we would alternate the favorite move with the least favorite move. For example, Senpai DJ chose jodan uke as her favorite and uchi mawashi geri as her least favorite. Senpai G had us alternate those two moves as we moved forward or backwards, and alternate those moves on the left and right sides. Sometimes we’d do them as oi-zuki (so left block followed by circling left kick) or gyaku-zuki (right side block followed by left side kick.)
Karate Class Creativity
Both classes challenged us to think on our feet, and examine our own karate. Some students knew exactly what they disliked, but had to think about what they liked. Others knew what they liked right away. One boy, Sensei T’s younger son, picked something he was sure the rest of us would hate: burpees. If I remember correctly, he was also the “ninja,” interested in becoming accurate, stealthy and lethal (or something close to that.)
So, at the behest of our young ninja, we ended class with burpees. Senpai G also asked me how many to require! And promised to let me out of doing burpees. But that’s not realistic. First, I’m a black belt, so I have to do all the exercises. I can’t just wimp out. Secondly, our nidan, Sensei T, is on the Zoom along with his wife, the shodan who tested with me. So of course I have to give us a respectable number, and do them. Twenty fit the bill: that was the average number of repetitions we did that night for favorite exercises, and our young ninja had named this as a favorite exercise, in play spite against the rest of us.
I admit that, at the end of twenty, I was out of breath.
I also admit that these two classes, on top of being challenging, were a lot of fun.
On Friday night, we enjoyed a weapons class taught by Senpai SL. He is one formidable karateka. He can spin two sets of nunchucks at once, and has created his own weapons kata, for both nunchucks and bo staff. SL has taught the class each of his original kata as well.
When he teaches weapons, he has us practice the moves involved in the kata, first. He began with having us practice “figure eights” and “flowers,” which is basically a move in which you swing the nunchucks in a horizontal “eight.” Then he moves on to having us practice more difficult moves, such as spinning the nunchucks about your hand before performing a break against your shoulder or spinning them down. Finally, he went over one of the nunchuck katas. After this, he would mix it up with “challenges,” more exercises and finally, we’d go over the kata again.
Introductory Nunchuck Practice
I found a great video that breaks down some of the moves. This is not a karate video, but the forms are the same as the ones we’re learning.
Video from California Academy of Martial Arts
A “flower” basically goes in the opposite direction. He also has us practice with our dominant and non-dominant hands. If a karateka does not have nunchucks at home, Sensei N or Senpai SL will go over how to make a “nunchuck” from a karate belt. You basically fold it over on itself and rubber band both ends.
And here is a cool tutorial on what we were calling a “spin,” because the nunchuck spins about your fingers or hand. The instructor in this video calls this a “wrist roll” or a modified figure eight.
This awesome kid reminds me of Senpai SL
Senpai SL would also make up a little “Renraku” using the various moves we practiced. He really knows how to keep a class interesting and also how to keep us on our toes. So he’d have us do various moves, such as the figure eight or a spin, “down the lane,” then turn and do the same move again multiple times back “up the lane.” Again, he had us practice both sides.
Nunchuck Challenge!
Somewhere around the middle of the class, he decided to do a “challenge.” The first time we did the challenge, he’d have a volunteer start out and do a set of moves on the spot. The next person had to imitate the first person’s move, then “top” that person’s moves with ones of his or her own. Then it would continue. Usually SL would do some amazing moves at the beginning or end.
Since we’d done that exercise before during the last weapons class, he decided to do timed exercises. So, when the Zoom spotlight was on the first “contestant,” that person performed various nunchuck moves until he or she dropped the nunchucks. Senpai SL went first, and actually dropped it pretty early. For the rest of the class, we all teased back and forth about SL’s time. Senpai CF smoked us with the longest time. I probably had the worst time.
Senpai SL’s Golden Teaching
Whenever Senpai SL teaches, he has a fun little phrase he uses. He will say, “Okay, we’re going to practice ” this or that, “then when we’re done, we can do…” then he’ll pause for effect, “whatever we want!” He says it with such enthusiasm, too. Unlike most of teachers, and I include myself here, when we have extra time, it is a source of worry. “Oh, what do we do now? What do I do with an extra 5 minutes?” We strive to have the entire class planned out. Most of us feel it is better to plan more activities and run out of time for them, than to end up with extra time on our hands.
Then, when we’re done, we can do…………..whatever we want!
Senpai SL
Senpai SL recognizes extra time for what it really is: a gift. He’s happy to finish early, and have time for “whatever we want!” And he normally has plenty of fun ideas for that extra time. Usually, he opens it up to the class for suggestions: “So what do you guys want to do now?” If he receives suggestions or questions, he’ll answer or follow the students’ leads. If no one has any, he’ll come up with something cool to demonstrate, then we’ll try to follow.
Extra time is a gift. A moment of free time, together with friends, to just do “whatever we want,” is golden. This is the most valuable teaching I’ve taken away from Senpai SL: welcome those golden moments with enthusiasm.
I wish you the gift of many golden moments in your future.
This past week I practiced “meditation week.” I meditated most days. Last Monday, however, I made up for missing push-ups, sit-ups and squats the previous Friday. I’m still either running or jumping rope every other day during the week. Honestly I prefer the treadmill to the jump rope. This means I need to do more jump rope sessions.
On Clark St. in Burbank; our neighbors’ sense of Halloween humor!
On non-cardio days, I still get out and walk in the neighborhood. Despite the pandemic, my Burbank neighbors have continued our Halloween tradition with creative and humorous local displays.
Last Tuesday, Sensei R taught a Tai Chi class. It was both challenging and relaxing. Friday night, N taught, and her class was surprisingly challenging: she held “contests,” to see how long we could balance on one leg, or hold a plank, or to see who was most flexible. N herself won for balance; I managed to hold the longest plank, though DJ really made me work for it, and young CF handily won the flexibility title. Rounding out the week, Senpai SL, our “weapons specialist,” taught bo staff. I had thought I was pretty good at bo staff, until I witnessed Senpai SL perform flowers and figure eights with two staves at once! He taught a great workshop: my aching shoulders bore witness to the value of the class for fitness.
Zen’s Denigration of Scholarship for Enlightenment
I’m still reading Zen Flesh, Zen Bones. Currently, I’m in the older portion, the Gateless Gate or the Mumonkan. The treatment of language is an on-going theme. Several stories illustrate the inadequacy of language to bring a monk to enlightenment. I’ve come across at least two examples of monks destroying writings. In an earlier post, I wrote about my feelings on this. One monk destroyed a work written by generations of others [pg. 108] while another, his own writing [206]. Language and reason hamper the monk’s progress in these stories.
How ironic, given the elegance of the stories themselves! In fact, Mumon ends each of his treatises with a poem. What a conundrum! We know about Mumon, his scholarship and poetry through his writing. Moreover, much of Zen’s reach outside of monasteries today results from these beautiful writings and similar works.
Zen’s debt to the written word and poetry is embedded in the earliest introduction of Buddhism to China. According to Wikipedia, An Shigao, an Indian Buddhist monk who settled in Luoyang, first taught Buddhism there.* He translated a set of ancient Buddhist texts on meditation into Chinese. So, at the birth of Ch’an/Zen in China, we already have scholarship in the form of translation. Buddhism entered China with language, writing and its logical traps.
* This is an oversimplification: he’s the first known translator of Indian Buddhist texts into Chinese; we do not know if there were others.
Enlightenment, Language and Fire
Yes, and cats, who can teach us much about living in the present
In “Blow out the Candle,” Tokusan, a student, attains enlightenment after Ryutan, his teacher, offers him a candle. It was night, and Tokusan planned to walk home. As soon as Tokusan takes it, Ryutan blows it out. The next day, Ryutan praises Tokusan; Tokusan burns his writings and leaves the monastery, presumably to teach elsewhere.
Mumon’s commentary includes a second story about Tokusan. When he arrives in the area near Ryutan’s monastery, he comes with a thick commentary. The Southerners, he believes, need instruction on the sutras. He happens upon an old woman. She asks him what he carries that is so heavy. He tells her it is his commentary on the Diamond Sutra.
She observes: “I read that Sutra, which says: ‘the past mind cannot be held, the present mind cannot be held, the future mind cannot be held.’ You wish some tea and refreshments. Which mind do you propose to use for them?” [Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, “Gateless Gate,” page 207] This encounter humbles Tokusan. He asks her for a teacher. She directs him to Ryutan. So, Tokusan begins his search when he encounters this woman. She summarizes years’ worth of scholarship the Diamond Sutra in a single sentence and an offer of tea. He ends his search by burning his own commentary, that symbol of mental entanglement.
Mumon’s Flaire and an Old Woman’s Tea
Fire as a transformative force figures prominently in these stories: the burning candle, suddenly out, plunges both teacher and pupil into the stark reality of night. Tokusan’s flaming commentary, even the old woman’s cooking fire, are metaphors for enlightenment. Enlightenment burns suddenly. It is only understood through experience.
But the poet Mumon attributes Tokusan’s entrance to the path of Enlightenment to the simple words and logic of an old village woman. Perhaps the real story here is that language, logic and learning points the way, until it doesn’t. Some concepts can be understood and studied. Others must be experienced. How do we know the difference? By observing what’s useful.
Personally I like the fact that Mumon evokes this old village woman: he shows we do not have to be monks living in monasteries to experience enlightenment. We can also be old village women who read sutras on occasion, but also brew tea and bake treats. Tokusan owes as much to her as to Ryutan.
Zoom Dinnertime Conversation on Belief, Education and Experience
Interestingly enough, we had dinner over Zoom with a good friend, G., who edited a local atheist publication for about two years. He has long held that irrational belief, or, in his view, religion, is the root cause of many of our current societal disasters and woes. A lack of understanding of history dooms us to repeat its mistakes. Adhering to superstition or simple short-term financial benefits over what we know from science has left us with both a damaged environment and damaged health.
Belated birthday gifts from G. to my husband and me; these will be fun reads.
He is undergoing chemotherapy for cancer, is in his sixties, and has health issues on top of his cancer. He’s concerned about the state of the world as well as his own health. Although he views the coronavirus pandemic as just barely a pandemic, through the lens of history, he sees it as a personal threat to one like himself. He described compared the coronavirus pandemic to both the Spanish flu and the Medieval European plague, and found it less worrisome from this perspective. However, since chemotherapy has compromised his own immune system, he’s certainly afraid of catching it. He is exactly the demographic most likely to die from it.
G. threw out a statistic about how many persons, in the US and Europe, do not accept that the earth is round, or that the earth rotates around the sun. He also gave examples from his days as a community college teacher of young adult students not knowing when Jesus lived, or when slavery in the US ended. Finally, he gave examples of ignorance among elected officials. He concluded that education, itself, is not valued enough in our country.
Reading versus Doing
G. grew up in Quebec and has a particularly dim view of the Catholic Church. We talked about how some people cannot be reached with reason. G. summed it up as follows: “If persons did not arrive at a particular opinion through reason, they can’t be swayed from it through reason.” We discussed how experience, your own or that of others close to you, influences most of us more than any amount of study or reason.
He used the shifting cultural norms around LBGTQ persons as an example. Forty years ago, most people in the US did not support gay marriage. Many viewed homosexuality as a kind of aberration. Today, a majority of Americans see it more as they view left-handedness: a minority of people are simply born this way. G. attributes this shift to the recent openness of LGBTQ persons themselves. Previously, gay persons hid their identity and now they do not. As a result, most Americans have a family member or friend who identifies that way. This personal experience with gay family and friends, in his opinion, shifted public opinion towards acceptance.
Again, enlightenment comes in the form of direct experience, and not though education, basically a form of inferred experience of others over time. I did not bring up Buddhism or Zen in the discussion with G., but suspect he would feel similar to me on combining the fruits of scholarship with fire.
Bearded Dragons: a Tangent
Kalessin reflects on herself
So S celebrated his thirteenth birthday last Wednesday, and this little critter was his present. He named her Kalessin, for the oldest dragon in Ursula K. Le Guin’s Earthsea series. We call her Kali for short.
Learning to care for a reptile is a challenge. Luckily, there is a wealth of information on-line about the care of these creatures. We also purchased an excellent book on bearded dragon care with a gift certificate from his aunt.
Last week, she was not active. We worried her terrarium was too cold. The pet shop, Burbank Scales and Tails, kindly replaced the bulb with a warmer, better one free of charge. They were ready with advice when my son called, too. This past weekend, however, our terrarium thermometer indicates the bulb heats her home too much! We have ordered a light stand, so we can adjust its distance. Now, we’re using wood blocks or wash cloths wrapped in duct tape to prop it higher.
Kali on her first day in our home
I am thankful that we can rely on the experience of others, in the form of books, on-line articles and discussions with the knowledgable staff at Burbank Scales and Tails. Given none of us have prior personal experience in reptile care, we’re glad others are willing to educate us.
What does any of this have to do with Karate?
Everything! This is a karate blog, so of course we’ll examine how it relates to karate. Learning karate, like achieving enlightenment or learning to care for a pet bearded dragon, is half personal experience and half learning from others. Studying from karate is not the same as practicing karate. Practicing karate, however, requires the study of karate to be complete.
I recently finished Oyama’s book, “This is Karate.” So much great information is contained in its pages, as well as cool photos of Oyama and his students. So much Japanese terminology, history and philosophy lives within those pages. Reading it gives me impressions of our style’s founder that I would not have had otherwise. I picked up Oyama’s book, however, after learning who Oyama was in Sensei’s dojo.
That said, there is no substitute for attending my Sensei’s physical dojo for roughly eight years, and practicing with my instructors and fellow students. I’ve learned how to block better by fending off strong blows from TF. Watching Sensei M showed me just how hard a scholar can kick! Our dojo has had many strong women and intelligent men among its udancha, and each of them imparted some wisdom to me, through words, demonstrations, blows, blocks, kicks and their grace in the face of conflict or hardship.
I owe a lot to my Sensei. He showed me how wise, disciplined and strong children could be. It was a joy to watch S and F grow under his instruction. He showed me how to break bricks, and how to reach 100 push-ups, sit-ups and squats. He showed me how to earn a black belt. Most importantly, he demonstrated why the study of karate was valuable.
From Sensei’s Bonsai Class Exhibition in December 2017
I spent perhaps far too much time reading the news yesterday and feeling stressed. So I felt this was perhaps a good topic to cover. Hoping others will find this helpful.
Coronavirus in the News
With so many of our elected leaders and their staff, acquaintances, friends and family afflicted with coronavirus, let us keep them in our thoughts and prayers. This disease, striking the powerful and the weak alike, reminds us of our own mortality.
The AIDS epidemic was the last time our nation faced anything similar to COVID-19 in recent memory. That disease, as frightening as it was, is not comparable. According to a CDC publication from November 1995, total deaths that year from AIDS had reached 311,381 persons nationally. The death rate for infected persons was a frightening 62%. Due to better education, activism and treatments that rate finally started to fall in 1996. Antiretroviral therapy in particular, according to the Kaiser Family Foundation, was perhaps the key factor in that reduction.
This year, in the US, roughly 208,630 have died to date with this disease (KFF). The gross death rate is roughly 3 to 4%, so considerably lower than that of AIDS at its peak. However, unlike AIDS, it is highly contagious, and currently we have about 7.44 M people infected. So the likelihood that one might contract this disease is high. Also, similar to AIDS, a person can be a carrier for some unknown length of time and transmit the virus to multiple persons without being aware he or she is spreading the disease. Finally, unlike AIDS, we hope this first year will be the peak.
The rough, lower death rate for COVID-19 is misleading. This disease is opportunistic. It effects the more vulnerable. So the elderly, along with immunocompromised individuals, are more effected. Minority communities as well as those impoverished suffer from it disproportionately.
Stress and Karate
It is well known that a regular exercise practice, as well as mindfulness and mediation, can reduce stress. Karate, with its roots in Zen Buddhism, emphasizes breathing and meditation in addition to rigorous training.
Friday’s Class: Stances and Backwards Kata
Friday night’s class, led by my daughter F, was enough to move my mind from the week’s concerns. Rather than kihon, she had us hold stances for a minute and a half. I found this hilarious video of a karate father demonstrating how to get in a work-out doing this with small children:
Afterwards, she had us practice Pinan Sono Ichi backwards. Concentrating on this certainly focused my mind, at least for the duration of that exercise.
Saturday’s Class: Renraku
Yesterday morning, we met in a park in Burbank for a distance-respecting work-out. Sensei T led the class and called on me to teach kihon. I was a bit out of breath by the end of kihon, though we only did tens. Normally, for adult classes, we will do twenty of each exercise. Yesterday, we had a number of younger children in class. When this is the case, we do fewer exercises.
Senpai T covered the first three IFK basic Renraku exercises. Here’s another great video demonstrating some of the material we covered:
This gentleman demonstrates several more renraku. We covered the 9th and 8th. The 8th renraku is very similar to the 9th, but you lead with a kick, rather than a punch. The 7th focuses on blocks. By request from young Senpai TD, however, we jumped to the last renraku, which is all kicks! Then Senpai T called on us to do it on both sides. That was a challenge. I found a fun video that shows most of the renraku. Go to the end: that’s where you’ll see the kicking one!
This IFK group in Israel is awesome. Fun to watch!
Mortality, Nature and Karate
Queen of the Night opening Wednesday night
While karate certainly doesn’t dwell on our mortality, it does emphasize self-defense for the preservation of one’s life, as well as exercise for health.
Oyama also emphasized practicing karate and meditation in nature. Famously, he spent months honing his skills, alone, in the wilderness. The book I recently finished by him, “This is Karate,” is full of beautiful photos of karateka practicing on the beach, in the forest, in snow or before stunning landscapes. Hence, both our dojo, and now the club, tries to get out in nature to practice.
This past Wednesday night, we watched its progress. By 7pm, Jessica came to watch its opening. She sat on a chair with the plant until the mosquitoes convinced to her leave. I offered to keep watch and send photos. By 10pm, the two blooms on the plant were completely open. They already had a smell then, but you needed to bend down to smell them. By midnight, they released the most amazing smell.
Queen of the Night, no flash, both blooms
I took several photos of each bloom from various angles, with and without the flash. Our outdoor light gave the white blooms a pinkish tinge. Some of the photos came out looking quite abstract, particularly the close-up ones.
The grandparents, kids and D came out with me at various points to examine and smell the flowers. Richard noted that it was a full moon, and asked if these plants primarily bloom during full moons.
Each bloom begins in a teardrop shape and puffs out over one or two days. In the evening, it begins to open slowly, but by midnight, it is in its full glory.
Flowers, Pandemics and Brevity
Like the pandemic, the night flower is also a reminder of mortality, albeit a more glorious one. The bloom is spectacular in size and smell, once fully open, but the fact that it opens just once, and only at night, makes it unusual. So to see it, you must stay up late. It’s quick, too: in just two to three hours, it will open completely. By morning, it has returned to its teardrop, but droops down.
However long we as humans may live, even our lives, when long, pass quickly, when compared with stately, centuries old redwoods or the ancient stars above. All living things die. We are no different. We come into the world totally helpless, and if fortunate, learn to crawl, totter, walk, run, dance, perform karate, walk, perhaps the totter returns, then nothing. All human life is brief. What more impetus do we need to treat each other, and ourselves, with compassion?
The passing of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg, one week ago today, saddened my family. She served her country well, was a leader of the highest moral caliber. She set a high bar for the rest of us to follow, as a person of education, determination and ethics.
I want to recount Wednesday morning’s entry. Sensei taught for us Tuesday evening, and I found his treatment of tensho enlightening.
Wednesday September 23rd, 2020
It was inspirational to do another class with Sensei. He taught tensho the Goju-ryu way. We keep the lower body: legs and abdomen, rigid, while the rest of the body remains flexible and relaxed. Here is the way he explained it: everything below your belt-knot is “the mountain,” your solid foundation. Everything above your belt-knot is “the clouds:” fluid, relaxed, but also fast, capable of “lightning” speed for effective strikes. Sensei said this metaphor of the body, a mountain with clouds above, comes from Tai Chi, which, like the Goju-ryu version of tensho, play with slow movements and fast ones, strength and fluidity. And, similar to Oyama’s overall descriptions of circles, points and straight lines in karate, Sensei pointed out that this kata, too, plays with circles and straight lines. It is a kata of contrasts, seeking balance.
He showed a video that went over the bunkai for tensho. The elderly gentleman who demonstrated the bunkai for the kata often followed up a block or grab with two fast strikes. While listening to Sensei’s explanations and watching the video, I realized that the circular move in the kata, following the up-ward, shotei block, was really a shuto hizo uchi strike. Now when I practice tensho, I try to make that move an actual strike, rather than merely quickly moving down for the lower shotei block. The upper shotei, then, is the block. Once that is executed, both the shuto hizo uchi and the gedan shotei are strikes.
Contrasts in kata: rhythm, balance, circular motion versus straight lines
I can’t find the specific video Sensei showed us. When he sends it to us, I’ll post it here. However, while looking for a good example of tensho different from my favorite one posted previously, I came across this excellent karate demonstration from the WFK World Karate Championship of 2012. These women are excellent karateka. While you watch the video, think about speed versus slowness. They are masters of rhythm. Notice when they are fluid and when they are rigid. I love the fact that they mix in bunkai with karate moves. Yes, as you would expect in such a competition, they are excellent showmen. Look for circular motion punctuated with straight lines.
I’d like to think that Ruth Bader Ginsberg would have enjoyed watching this performance of skilled, strong young women.
Two Kyokushin Tensho demonstrations
Since this entry is about tensho, I’ll end with an excellent IFK rendition of tensho that I used while practicing for my black belt test.
I am grateful to Oishi of Cape Town and his dojo for posting this kata:
Oishi of Cape Town
If you are learning this kata, he makes it easy to follow along. Also, his karate is simply beautiful.
Finally, Masutatsu Oyama loved tensho, so I have to include this:
He certainly demonstrates the mountain and clouds, circles, points, straight lines, slowness and speed.
A dear friend of mine gave me a cute t-shirt in honor of both my birthday and my black belt test. I wanted to know what the Japanese said on the t-shirt. I texted a picture of the shirt to another close friend who is Japanese. She wrote back:
“The direct translation is tao of karate. I’m still thinking what is the best way to translate the word…”
A little while later, she came back with this:
“The best way I can describe is something like, pursuing the way of master in karate.”
That got me to thinking, what is the relationship between Zen and Daoism? (D says “Dao” sounds closer to the Chinese pronunciation than “Tao,” so I’ll go with that.) Certainly Daoism is older in China. Lao Tsu lived between the 4th and 6th centuries, B.C. Zen Buddhism originated with Bodhidharma. He journeyed from India to China in the 6th century C.E/A.D. Daosim, already prevalent in China by the time Bodhidharma arrived, would have influenced Zen, or, Ch’an, as it was referred to in China. I’ve included a link to a BBC article about Zen Buddhism.
So just as kempo is the “grandparent” of karate, so Dao is a grandparent of Zen Buddhism. I am sure religious scholars and monks have studied the relationship between the two. In fact, here’s an article from Buddha Weekly:
Some of the interesting points of the article regarding similarities between Dao and Zen: * Concept of Emptiness or No-thing * Interconnectedness of all living things
I’ll add a couple of my own observations: * Emphasis on simplicity and direct experience * Contradictions, or apparent contradictions, teach wisdom in each tradition
I’m sure there are more similarities between the two, as well as deeper examinations out there. Still, food for thought!
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.”
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.”
