Most people like to act tough, especially those who are trained to fight. There’s a “never back down” mentality that kicks in when someone aggressive is challenged, but real fights never quite turn out the way we see it in the movies. For example, one of my favourite movies that just came out recently (recently, being a loosely-used term) is Creed II. The movie has the kind of inspirational tone one would expect from a Rocky spinoff; the protagonist is defeated by a larger, stronger opponent and is laid up in a hospital with severe injuries. Once he recovers, he goes on this wicked training montage to train and build himself back up before defeating the antagonist in an awesome rematch.
It’s very 80’s, which means I absolutely love it. Despite the unrealistic nature of it. Most people who suffer such injuries will usually call it quits and step away from fighting such opponents. Even in the most traditional of styles, we see a sort of expectation that you’ll hammer forward, even when the odds are against you. I’ve never been one who much felt this way, which makes sense when you recognize that I live my life trying to eliminate suffering and propagate peace. But even Sensei used to say, “If you’re going to fight, make sure you win…” I believe he was mostly referring to competing, which our school never did (officially). But it certainly applies to how we train.
I’ve always been a firm believer in drills. Correction and repetition are important in order to establish muscle memory and make it more likely that your body will react properly in a “real fight” scenario. But you’ll notice that the majority of dojos practice these drills by stepping forward, stepping into the opponent or meeting an attack head on. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s also important to perform drills where the practitioner is stepping BACK. Most schools or dojos don’t recognize this, but it can be extremely important if you find yourself in a real fight.
Stepping back while performing drills holds many benefits. The first one is that it can be helpful in better positioning yourself to block an incoming attack. Sometimes a strike may be close enough to be effective against you without leaving you any room to block properly. Another benefit is that you may need to back away in order to set YOURSELF up for a particular attack. Although one needs to recognize that a real fight scenario likely won’t leave you with enough time to “plan out” an attack, a preferred technique that you’ve worked extensively may need some setting up.
The last point is that there is no shame in stepping away from a fight. If you can avoid the fight altogether, that’s always the best option. But if it means protecting yourself or someone else, avoidance isn’t always an option. This is where backing up or “tactically repositioning” becomes important. Maybe you need that little bit of space to examine and reevaluate the situation in order to make a proper decision. When you get right down to it, backing away isn’t cowardly but quite smart, in terms of finding a way to win your confrontation.
Never back down? Well, I’m not saying you should always quit or give up. You should never give up. But backing down is not the same as giving up. I’ll always be more than happy letting some ‘roided douchebag think he’s the tougher one, if it means I walk away uninjured and safe. As long as I can do without it being at the expense of someone else’s safety and/or wellbeing. The lesson here is that in very much the same way as a karateka should be ambidextrous in his or her techniques, said techniques should also be practice stepping in or stepping back. ☯
The title of today’s post poses an important question: Can you have honor while simultaneously hating another person/thing? The easy answer would be no. No you can’t. And the reason is quite simple. At its core, honor suggests a level of respect that you can’t achieve while hating something. This brings us to the question of whether you can respect a person or thing while hating them, but I don’t want to fall too far down the rabbit hole. Rather, the subject of today’s post is to focus on a strange phenomenon that I’ve seen in the martial for decades. I’m talking about the tendency to dislike and/or hate styles that are not our own. And it happens much more than one thinks.
I first ran into this phenomenon in the late 90’s, early 2000’s when I met a guy who had mutual friends within my small group of associates. We got to chatting one night and it was discovered that he also studied karate. I was a brown belt at the time and somewhat in the prime of my physical abilities, such as they were. But we got to discussing karate in greater detail and he revealed that he studied a style called Kyokushinkai. For those who may not be familiar with this style, it’s one that was developed and founded in 1964 by Masutatsu Oyama and loosely translates as “the ultimate truth,” making it less than a century old and one of the youngest styles of Japanese karate, with the exception of its own off-shoot styles.
When he asked what style I studied and I answered Uechi-Ryu, he asked if that was a style descendent from Naha-Te. I replied that it was and he sniffed and hitched his pants up and said, “Kyokushinkai incorporates Naha-Te as well…” He went on to explain the premise of his style involved constant, full-contact training to overcome the fear of being struck. I was always one to prefer learning to effectively block to PREVENT being struck, but that’s just me. But he showed a visible level of disgust at the fact I would study anything but the style he was in, and his bravado showed that he thought very little of MY karate.
Now, don’t get me wrong… Kyokushinkai is an effective style of karate, despite the fact that Master Oyama created it by bastardizing and combining elements from Shuri-te, Naha-Te, Tomari-te, Goju-Ryu, Shotokan and Shito-Ryu. Quite a colourful soup bowl, which rather goes against the whole premise of “One life, one love, one style” that most Okinawan karate practitioners believe in. But the style even practices Sanchin, one of the basic katas associated with my style, proving that most styles of karate share a background or ancestry that can be measured.
There’s a big difference between feeling one’s style is the better one and openly disrespecting and disliking another. I sincerely felt that the other martial artist disrespected my years of training and hard work with his belief that his style was “superior” and “the only real school of karate.” The boasting and the bravado went against what I was taught as a martial artist and what’s more, ended the friendship before it truly began. He might have been a great guy, overall. But when the first thing you have in common becomes a thorn in your foot, it’s a little hard to carry on.
Truthfully, one needs to understand that there is no such thing as a “bad style.” Simply a style that’s better suited to the practitioner. There are plenty of reasons why I would never practice Tae Kwon Do, but it can be easily argued as an effective martial art. In fact, one of the few combatants who genuinely rang my bell but good, was a practitioner of TKD, and he was more than quite good. The same can be said of any style, unless you refer to one of these jokers “knocking” people out by waving a hand at them… That shit’s crazy! But I digress…
A good analogy that I’ve enjoyed using to explain this to others, is one that I’ve used in martial arts circles and in my professional life. Imagine you’re installing a new bathroom in your home and the time has come to run water lines into your shower. In order to do the necessary plumbing, you’ll contact a plumber versus an electrician. By the same principle, you’ll contact the electrician to install your lighting and electricity as opposed to letting the plumber do it. Both are trained professionals, capable and necessary in their respective fields. But what they do is inherently different. Neither one is better than the other; just different.
This analogy applies to the martial arts, as well. All schools, styles and types of martial arts are different. No one style is better than any other; just different. I’ve been studying Uechi-Ryu for 33 years, this year. But I’ve trained and practiced in Kobudo, Kenpo, Kendo, Judo and Tae Kwon Do. No one will ever convince me that any of those styles are better than mine. But I can respect that they’re just as good, in their own way and offer a different perspective into an art I’ve studied for most of my life.
This is why it’s so important to respect other schools and styles and to understand that if you tried it and didn’t like it, it isn’t because it was inherently bad. It simply wasn’t for you. This is without including the whole McDojo element in the equation, of course. But if one is to have true honor and respect, then genuine dislike and hatred for other styles can’t be something one permits oneself to feel. After all, this isn’t a bad, old-school kung-fu movie. Dojo rivalries were never really a thing on Okinawa, and that’s where karate was founded. It would be reasonable to think that it should exist today, either. ☯
The world is a dangerous place, and it’s made all the more dangerous by people who ignore their surroundings and have no sense of spatial awareness. This can apply to a martial arts context as well as in everyday life. In the video below, I share my thoughts on that very thing. ☯
One of the problems with telling people you do karate, besides what I wrote about a few days ago in relation to having others prove how tough they are, is the fact that the average person will assume you’re able to kick ass. The truth is, people join karate for a variety of reasons, including but not limited to wanting to lose weight, get in shape, improve their physical and/or mental state and potentially learn how to fight or defend themselves. Honestly, I’ve even seen some folks who join karate with the only goal being to socialize and be around other people. Granted there are a lot of better, easier ways to socialize than joining something as complex and intricate as karate.
But so long as your goal isn’t to intentionally harm others or turn yourself into a bully, the sky’s the limit. One of the beautiful things about karate is that there’s something for everyone. But the reality is that not all of us are top-tier fighters who can fend off any opponent. Movies and television have also done a pretty good job of spreading this belief, when you see a protagonist fighting off large groups of assailants with reasonable ease and skill. But none of that is realistic and if I’m being honest, only about one percent of people who join martial arts will become proficient at the skills they study.
That may seem like a bit of a narrow view, so allow me to explain with an example. Some years ago when I was still in New Brunswick and training in Sensei’s dojo, one of my high school teachers decided to join. I won’t guess at her age and it would have been rude to ask, but I knew she was of at least one generation older than myself. Obviously, since she was a teacher of mine when i was in high school. But suffice it to say that she joined for the physical and mental improvement aspects and had no physical constitution to allow her to participate in combat or even light sparring. Although she no doubt learned SOME skill while training with us, it would be doubtful that she would have the ability to fight off anyone but a much weaker assailant.
The truth is that this will apply to quite a number of karate students, regardless of how much they train. And if we’re being honest here, everyone kind of has their “specialty.” Some favour forms, others like pressure points or weapons, some may enjoy sparring and fighting. Most students will become reasonably proficient at the specialty they enjoy and as much as it would be nice to say that all karateka are jack and jill-of-all-trades, this is rarely the case. Although I’m quite fond of forms and absolutely LOVE doing kata, I consider myself a sledgehammer as compared to a scalpel. I can brawl with the best of them, but I’m not so great with the specific, fine-muscle techniques.
My point behind all of this, and the message is mostly for the non-martial artists, is that just because someone studies karate or any other martial art, that doesn’t mean that they’re good to go and can pull an Ip Man and fight off a crowd of enemies in one sitting. And the realities of actual fighting versus what the majority of people see on television also make such things impossible. So, if someone you know tells you they study karate, don’t bother to ask, “Could you kick THAT person’s ass?” Because the likely answer will be, “No. No, I can’t.” ☯
I usually write my posts ad nauseam, and often require a number of edits to eliminate them being twice as long as they are once they’re posted. Once in a while, I like to post something that simply to look at, without all the necessary background, citations and references. So, here’s what I found last week while randomly surfing the web…
I forget exactly where I found this little gem, but I’ve seen it floating around in a few places. What I love about this photo is the absolute look of intensity and determination on the kid’s face, despite the fact he’s tethered to what appears to be an oxygen tank. I’m ignoring the fact that he appears to be one belt shy of black, despite his young age. Let’s not go there.
But it goes a long way towards showing how much determination can pay off in the long run, and the fact that motivation has to come from within. This little guy reminds me of myself when I was younger. All guts and determined to live and grow stronger, despite the pitfalls and medical challenges that life threw at me. As long as you keep fighting, may lose some battles but eventually you’ll win the war. ☯
I wrote a post about karate gis yesterday, and focused a bit on brands, cost and durability, which I think can be pretty important if you’re a life-long student OR you’re just starting out and thinking of taking the Nestea plunge and buying your first gi. It can be a pretty particular decision, especially when the cost involved can be substantial. But since you can read about that here, I won’t get into all of that. Rather, today’s post will focus on what you wear OUTSIDE the dojo. Yes, you read that correctly…
There’s an interesting phenomenon that takes place when someone joins a club or organization that I’ll reluctantly admit that I’ve been guilty of, myself. They tend to purchase and wear a lot of swag. Basically, what I mean is that if a student joins a dojo, it usually won’t take long for them to start purchasing and wearing a club t-shirt or hoodie, wearing a track suit or buying the “yearly” dri-fit shirt. These items will often be worn out in public, either through a sense of pride or because they paid for it and don’t want to leave it sitting in their drawers.
And I get that… As I mentioned, I’ve been guilty of this myself. In fact, I still have some stuff that I occasionally wear, albeit under something else or in such a way as I don’t turn myself into a walking billboard for whatever location is involved OR I don’t turn myself into a walking target, which is the bigger concern. I was having a comment conversation with a fellow blogger who also happens to be a fellow martial artist (here’s looking at you, Silk Cords) and we were talking about how talking about karate or wearing karate apparel outside the dojo will usually incite short-sighted fools to try and prove themselves by fighting you.
My favourite hoodie, with my “old school” crest from 30 years ago
Just to be clear, it’s not a BAD thing… Being excited and proud to have joined a dojo can be a good thing. And if you feel the need to wear a dry fit shirt with a giant yin yang on the back that says “karate” (I have one of those) then by all means, fill your proverbial boots. Just be aware of the type of attention you may draw. It kind of falls under the same category as avoiding the muscled idiot who goes to the bar wearing a “Tap Out” t-shirt… If he or she if advertising themselves in THAT manner, in THAT environment, the safe bet is they’re likely looking for trouble. I could be wrong and/or biased, but that’s also based on observation.
After a while, the fascination with wearing all the swag wears off, and the student becomes aware that such clothing items are best left to memory. Even students in Okinawa don’t wear karate apparel outside the dojo, and karate is the equivalent of what hockey is, here in Canada. Except the kids, of course. On class nights, you can them running to the dojos clad in their gis. I have an exception that comes in the form of the hoodie you see in the image above.
The crest I have on the shoulder reads “New England Academy of Karate and Judo,” which is Sensei’s school. I got that crest all the way back in my early white belt days and my intention is to never let it go. But let’s be honest, unless you get real cozy, you won’t be able to read what it says anyway. But the best way to win a fight is to never have had it in the first place. So, best practice is to keep from advertising yourself in such a way as to make a target of yourself. ☯
So if I haven’t grossed you out or scared you off with the title and you’re still reading at the moment, today’s post will be about karate uniforms. The “crotch” comment mostly references the wear and tear that the stitching on the crotch of one’s pants potentially go through during karate training. Mostly. But we won’t get into the “not mostly.” That can be for another day. But I digress… Moving on!
Karate is most often associated with the wearing of a white, cotton uniform or gi. But what most people are usually unaware of, is that karateka or students originally didn’t wear any sort of uniform while studying karate at all. In fact, you can still find a number of old black and white photos of Okinawan practitioners, training on the beach in nothing but a pair of shorts. In a lot of ways, this was preferable as it allowed teachers to see if proper muscle tension was being used by the students.
An example of a typical, white karate gi
The introduction of the recognizable, white karate gi as we wear it today came about as a result of it being introduced by Jigaro Kano, the founder of Judo, who developed the gi, which was later adapted by Okinawan Karate. Nowadays, you can see all kinds of ridiculous bullshit, depending on where you are and what dojos are available. I’ve seen karate gi of all colours, including blue, red, pink, camouflage and even multi-coloured. Since some of those colours have snuck their way into some dojos’ ranking systems, I think the whole thing is rather stupid and moves away from tradition. But that’s mostly because I’m a traditionalist.
Others may feel that it’s an evolution and one that’s unavoidable. After all, karate started with no ranking system at all. You had a teacher and you had students. No matter what your opinion or thoughts on the subject may be, the reality is that joining a modern karate dojo will usually involve the purchasing and wearing of a karate gi at some point, which brings me to the content of today’s post. Over the past 30-plus years, I’ve burned my way through about a dozen different gis, for many different reasons. I’m going to share some of that here, so that if you’re looking to buy a martial arts uniform for the first time, you’ll have an unbiased opinion of multiple brands. This is where I should clarify that I neither endorse nor discourage any specific brand of sports apparel, nor have I accepted any compensation for any positive comments provided herein. Buckle up!
First, let’s start with the basic, bare bones options. As seen in the photo above, I use a black, cotton karate gi that’s manufactured by Century Martial Arts. I use this one because the Regina Institute of Kempo Karate where I currently train, use black gis as opposed to white. Not a big deal and I’ve often worn my white gi on laundry days when I didn’t have my black one available. This cotton gi is single-layered and single stitched, making it ideal for beginners and junior belts, since there may not be as intensive a level of grappling and grabbing involved. It’s also comfortable and easy to wash, making easier to maintain even though it may not last as long as the subsequent brands below.
There are a few of these really good North American companies that manufacture some reasonably low cost karate gis. I love Century Martial Arts! They have an American and a Canadian website and have a ton of martial arts training equipment. But I need to calm down; we’re talking about uniforms. In New Brunswick, Sensei used to obtain his basic karate gis from a company called GeneSport, which is based out of Quebec. They had that same single layer and single stitch hem, making them an excellent, low-cost option for beginners. I went through three of them during my time climbing the junior ranks. But once I stepped up to brown belt and things got rougher, I needed something that could keep up.
Next, we have the Tokaido. As you can see from the tag above, this is a 100% cotton karate gi that has double and sometimes triple-stitched hems for durability and strength. This company boasts being the oldest manufacturer of karate uniforms. I went through two of these during my years climbing through brown and black belt. They’re of a much thicker cotton and are an excellent quality. I can highly recommend this brand to someone making a long-term commitment to karate. I still have one today!
That being said, buyers should be aware that you’re paying quite a bit for that quality. As a comparison, my last GeneSport gi was roughly $40 (in 1996) and my Century gi was approximately $60 (2016). My last Tokaido cost me $230, but I still HAVE it! And it’s still functional, despite some holes here and there. So deciding on which brand to settle may have a great deal to do with one’s budget, especially if you join a McDojo that’ll charge you an arm and a leg for absolutely everything. But before I go on a rant, let’s move on to the last one…
The last brand I’ll touch on in this post, is Shureido. This company holds a special place in my heart, as it is a small, privately owned manufacturer of karate gi and martial arts weapons and equipment located in Naha, Okinawa. I visited this location in 2001 when I traveled to Japan, and I had the pleasure of getting myself a karate gi with Uechi Ryu’s banner embossed directly on the gi jacket. My black belt is also from Shureido and is stitched with my name and karate style. It’s pretty sharp.
Although they have a US distributor and an official Facebook page, there doesn’t seem to be an actual website available. This puts them in a bit of a different category than other manufacturers. I’ve recently reached out to the US distributors as well as sending a message to the Facebook page, without any response thus far. But since they cover all Okinawan and Japanese territories as they relate to karate and kobudo, I would imagine that they’re pretty busy. Cotton material and double or triple-stitched, these gis are top-of-the-line and are prominently used in the tournament environment. At least they were, when I was there in ’01.
These are the top-tier of price range, with a gi costing anywhere ranging from $250 to several hundred dollars, depending on size and accessories. Since I got a specialized gi and specialized belt, my package cost me well over $350. So it may not be ideal in terms of budget. Another issue is that my increase in size over the past five or six years has made it to snug to train in, which is problem. But I’ve had that gi for twenty years, at this point. It’s seen me through my black belt test and all the fun, in-class violence that ensued.
What level and quality of gi you decide to purchase depends on your perspective. An advanced student who buys one of the lower-priced, single-stitch gis may find themselves replacing it within a year or two as it’ll get torn to shit while sparring and grappling. That’s the issue I used to face. So if you burn through three or four of those gis, you’re already halfway to the cost of a basic Tokaido gi, which will be tougher and last longer overall. So you need to find a way to balance the scales.
You may also find yourself limited by the requirements of your dojo and what THEY require. Most traditional and functional dojos don’t care what their students wear, so long as they train hard and put in some effort. That is, until the time comes for a significant climb in rank. Most dojos don’t want to issue a green, brown or black belt to someone in their sweats and a Blink-182 t-shirt. But if you reach those ranks, the safe bet is you’ve invested in a gi already. The important thing is to have your gi loose enough to be comfortable and allow movement, while being snug enough to prevent snagging and grabbing on your opponent’s end. ☯
We do a lot of pre-arranged drills in karate, and for good reason. The development and perfection of most techniques requires hundreds if not thousands of constant repetitions in order for a practitioner to be able to use it on the fly, spurred on solely by muscle memory. Some may argue that drills are useless since you’ll never be able to predict what a random opponent may do on the street. And while this true, there is a means of being able to tell what said opponent may do. I’m referring to telegraphing.
Just to provide some clarification to any non-practitioners out there, the term telegraphing refers to any physical “tell” that may warn you of an opponent’s movement and/or intention. A good example is if you happen to be having a heated discussion with someone who suddenly decides to take a bladed stance. What may have been solely verbal to that point has suddenly become your opponent’s intention to attack you. Another example and the most prominent one, is the lifting or shifting of an opponent’s foot, right before they strike,
Sensei used to be really good at telling me what I’d do before I’d do it. In my earlier days, sparring with him would be challenge, since he’d refuse to attack and insisted that I got used to moving in. So I’d be eyeballing him up and down, tapping into my internal repertoire of techniques and deciding on how best to attack. I’d tense up and get ready for a strike and he’d say, “You’re about to front kick…” or “You’re going to throw a left…” It used to piss me off quite a bit, but he’d be right 99% of the time and the reality is that by observing your opponent, you’re able to watch for those physical tells that will warn you of what your opponent will do.
In some ways (many ways), telegraphing is almost unavoidable. At least to avoid it completely. This is mostly because basic physics teaches us that in order for you to move your body in some given way, there needs to be a shift in weight, shift in centre of gravity and movement of the remaining limbs to maintain balance and precision. The idea is to train yourself to REDUCE visible telegraphing as much as humanly possible so that your opponent won’t catch on to your intended movement. That being said, this is where I refer you back to my earlier comments about drills, which teach you balance and precision and how NOT to flay your hands around because you may happen to be doing a front kick.
Another Sensei story, is how he’d always ask me, “You don’t eat your cereal in the morning like this, do you?” And he’d mimic bringing a spoon to his mouth while lifting the opposing leg each time. The joke was to illustrate that one limb should be able to move independently of the others, and shouldn’t depend on one another unless you experience total loss of balance and need to make them work together to regain said balance. In order words, if you’re performing a kick to your opponent, your hands shouldn’t be falling behind you, or flailing around to keep your balance. If so, you need to work on that kick AND on your balance.
There are plenty of things you can do to try and mitigate telegraphing your movements. Training yourself to push forward from the rear leg as opposed to lifting the front leg to move in, is a great start. However, this requires sliding that front foot as you move, which isn’t always possible depending on what surface you’re standing on, what footwear you’re using, etc, etc… But other things will include performing balancing exercises to help yo stay centred. If you were walking down the street and someone suddenly shoved you from the side, would you fall into a stance and remain standing or would you topple over? Don’t answer that, it’s just food for thought.
Other things you can do is to practice your techniques while maintaining your centre of gravity well enough that you don’t shift your head up and down, don’t move other limbs and don’t lean forward or backwards (or side to side) while performing techniques. I know, I know… It’s easy to say all of this while sitting behind a keyboard. And I’ll admit that it can take a long time and a lot of work to make all of this flow together. But martial arts is a life-long journey, right? Some of it can also simply come down to overall speed and precision. If you’ve trained yourself and are fast enough, it’ll reduce the amount of time for your opponent to be able to identify any tells you may have. As the old saying goes, “Don’t train ’til you get it right. Train ’til you can’t get it wrong!” ☯
One of the defining characteristics of martial arts is the fact that it’s steeped in ceremony and tradition. For the most part, students usually learn to incorporate those traditions and ceremonies into their practice of whatever art they’ve chosen. If they don’t, they soon discover that they may be better suited to something that doesn’t require all the formalities, like boxing. Or MMA.
Many modern dojos and martial arts studios are of the opinion that the pomp and ceremony is unnecessary and hinders the faster progression of students as it takes away from time that they could be training on actual techniques or drills. Those dojos couldn’t be more wrong. And yes, that may simply be one person’s opinion. But the truth is that the formalities also teach students some important aspects of discipline, routine and attention to fine detail. Such aspects are important to the integrity and proper absorption of the essence of karate. And I have no doubt the same can be said of other styles.
So how does that apply outside the dojo? And that is the question that brings us to today’s post. Is it appropriate or even REQUIRED to refer to your Sensei as “Sensei” when you meet him or her on the street? Considering that it’s a show of respect to refer to your instructor as “Sensei,” why wouldn’t you use it regardless of the environment? But some are not quite as willing to use titles outside the dojo. And in fact, some instructors aren’t comfortable having them used on them in a public setting. It reminds me of two scenarios, of opposing views. You’re probably saying, “Of course it does…”
When I started karate, all those decades ago, I spent the first few classes hiding at the very back. I copied and emulated everything I saw, but I never really had any opportunity to call on Sensei to ask any questions. This is one of the downfalls of being a beginner at the back of the class and is why it’s so important to pay attention to your white belts. But I digress… We reached a class on my second week where we all gathered at the back of dojo and were shown drills, which we’d perform all the way up the class. We’d run along the outer edge of the dojo to the back and repeat the drill.
At one point, I was unclear on the specifics of a certain technique, so when Sensei approached I got his attention by raising my hand and saying, “Excuse me, sir?” He walked over, I asked my question, he answered it and I was back in line to continue. Then as an afterthought, he added, “And when you’re in this class you call me ‘Sensei’ and nothing else. If you ever refer to me as anything else while in the dojo, it will be a hundred push-ups.” Then he walked away. I was mildly taken aback, but it had the required effect. It’s over 32 years later, and I’ve never called him anything other than ‘Sensei’ unless I’m referring to him to somebody outside the martial arts environment.
On the flip side, one of the senior belts who used to teach in Sensei’s absence was usually referred to as “Senpai,” which is a term for “instructor” or the like. I saw the guy at a local grocery store the one day and when we saw each other, I called out “Hey, Senpai…” He paled and quickly hushed me by saying, “Man, quiet down! We’re not in the dojo…” I felt as though he was embarrassed by it. To each their own, I guess. My students consistently called me Sensei regardless of the environment. It’s been almost fifteen years since I had to shut down my dojo to move out to Saskatchewan, and I STILL have some old students who will call me Sensei when they see me. As a sign of respect, it’s kind of nice.
Either Sensei, Sifu, Master or whatever title may be associated to the lead instructor of your school or dojo, it may take some feeling out as to how you’ll refer to them outside the dojo. They may also have a preference in regards to how they’d like to be addressed. Personally, I don’t believe it should be embarrassing if a student refers to an instructor but their title outside the dojo. After all, if you’re in some sort of team sport the safe bet is you’ll likely say, “Hey, Coach!” if you see your coach out in public. Sensei should be no different. ☯
A little known fact about me that I don’t believe even most of my family members are aware of, is that I LOVE to dance. There’s something about the liberating feeling of allowing your body to move and sway in one’s particular way to a great song. And the beauty of it, is that everyone’s way of doing it can be different. Much like martial arts. And that’s the focus of today’s post: the connection of martial arts and dance.
It’s no secret that I’ve been studying karate for over three decades, but I never really “discovered” dance until 2007. At the time, I was living in the Ottawa area and working as a manager for a local pharmacy. I had the opportunity to get my hands on a couple of tickets for a show at the National Ballet of Canada. I went in with mixed feelings since, well… Most guys usually try to be macho and pretend they don’t like dancing, ballet and things of that sort. And I’ll admit that I may or may not have been on that bandwagon.
Look at this ripped bastard! I mean, c’mon…
But what I saw that night changed my perspective on dance, ballet and all the associated effort and fitness that is involved in the process. I can’t remember what specific production was being performed, but I felt a certain level of awe (and jealousy) at how fast, flexible and nimble the guys on stage were. Sheathed in sweat but moving about effortlessly, I watched as they moved, leapt and even balanced themselves on the single point of a wooden staff, seemingly defying gravity.
And their abs and muscles pissed me off, haha. I have to admit that I was impressed at the athleticism involved in what I was seeing and I couldn’t help but feel that some of the movements and efforts reminded me of doing forms, or kata. I decided that I needed to look into this whole “dance thing” in a bit more detail. A girl I dated in high school had a sister who owned her own dance studio, so I reached out and asked her what my best first step would be. She said I should find a dance school that would allow me to try out for free and give it a go before committing to anything. Now it REALLY sounded like karate.
My journey started in Ottawa’s ByWard Market, where a latin dance club had a “dance lesson” night where they provided free latin dancing lessons before opening up for the evening. It was pretty interesting and challenging, from a structured and instructional standpoint. But with over 50 people and only one instructor, I wasn’t really able to get the kind of one-on-one instruction I needed in order to actually LEARN the type of dance. It became clear that this was a gimmick more for fun than actual instruction. At the risk of getting discouraged, I gave up and left.
That’s where fate decided to intervene. A few weeks later, I received a coupon for a free introductory dance lesson at a small, privately owned dance studio that had just opened. I would love to remember the name of the place and truthfully, I tried to look it up. But with a dozen or more dance schools in the Ottawa area, it’s a bit difficult to jog the old memory. All I can tell you is that it was a privately owned studio located on a little side street and was on the upstairs floor of another business.
I was excited because the coupon boasted a free lesson in salsa, tango and cha-cha, to name a few. I can writhe and wiggle my body to music with the best of them, but this would be the first time I received formal instruction. It was one of the best 90 minutes of my life! I took to dance like a swan to a lake (see what I did, there?) and was able to memorize a lot of steps and do them properly on the first try. It seemed as though studying katas had an unexpected benefit in the sense that I could learn and recall dance moves without issue.
The instructor was pleased and impressed with me and asked if I had ever done dance before or even martial arts. I replied that I did karate and she explained that this was why I had good balance, centering and was able to learn dance the way I was. There were only five couples in total but I was partnered with almost every woman in the room that night, much to the chagrin of my ex-wife who apparently was born with two left feet. Dance, like everything else in life, is not for everyone and she didn’t take to it. Despite how much fun I was having, she was not a happy camper at seeing me dance with other women. Whatever. It was a LESSON for light’s sake… There’s a reason she’s an “ex”… Moving on!
At the instructor’s request, I joined a few more introductory classes and learned the rudimentary basics of dance. I absolutely loved it, and it provided some valuable tools that translated easily into karate. But once the whole “introductory” phase was past, the reality is that I simply couldn’t afford to pay for the lessons. Such is life. I also didn’t enjoy the constant fights I had with my ex-wife every time I attended a lesson. Apparently, she preferred having another woman punch me in the face instead of dancing with me.
The bottom line is that dance and martial arts share a lot of the same valuable benefits including but not limited to flexibility, balance, knowing where to step, increased circulation, a strengthened core and increased control over one’s own body. All of those are fantastic and shared aspects. That’s why, if you’ve ever thought about it or considered it, I would highly recommend dance as a a supplemental means of fitness. Or a primary one, if you aren’t in the martial arts. Ever try Zumba? Combination of cardio and dancing? That shit’ll kick your ass, believe me!
My sons are already obsessed with dancing. Of course, Nathan is all about the twerking… I guess I should just be grateful that he never learned flossing or one of those weird gimmick dances. I also think that precision and accuracy are important, shared aspects of martial arts and dance. And there’s no denying that professional dancers are superb athletes that work extremely hard. Hence, the jealousy at the ripped abs and being able to wear a unitard without looking like a sausage about to burst out of its casing. Not that I want to wear a unitard, of course. Jus’ saying’… Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna dance my way out of that last comment! ☯
The Blogging Buddhist 