Chris Thomas Martial Arts

2012 Annual Gathering

2012-01-31T17:19:00.000-08:00

For some years now, we have held an annual training event in Madison, WI, which we call the Annual Gathering. Our 2012 event is coming in March. Click on this link to read the flier. On the link page, there is a button to register and pay.

We also conduct our annual Sandan Board Exam on Friday during the day (before the Gathering begins). Interested/qualified candidates for this year's test should fill out the test registration (ignore the fact that it still reads last year's dates, and remember, there is a one-time cost for the testing is $300). If you are curious about our testing process, you can read this previous blog post on the subject.

Thanks for reading,

Now, come train.

Video from France (Thanks for Postng This)

2011-11-09T08:43:00.000-08:00

Stage Chris Thomas Kyusho-jitsu Serge ko by playbic

Seminars: Milwaukee, Paris, Bousse, Romeoville

2011-09-20T04:44:00.001-07:00

DKI is everywhere. These are fliers for my upcoming seminars. My sensei, George Dillman, has his annual October Camp in Deer Lake, then he is doing a camp in England which will have many senior DKI instructors. My friend, Ken Smith is teaching in Wisconsin October 1. My friend Dustin Seale has seminars scheduled in Illinois and Italy, and I can't keep track of Will Higginbotham's schedule.

I guess the point is this, if you've always wanted to train in kyusho-jitsu...

speaking of training,

thanks for reading,

now go train.

Rooting

2011-09-12T20:11:00.000-07:00

A new video blog about the concepts of rooting and double weighting, includes how-to do a horse stance.

3 Permissions

2011-09-10T07:38:00.000-07:00

I have found myself repeating often a set of permissions I received from my sensei, George Dillman. Now, he never said it exactly in this manner, but this is how he taught me and what he expected from me. So, I have sought to summarize the philosophical approach to teaching within Dillman Karate International (DKI) and which I try to model for my own direct students (known affectionately as KJK). (By the way, I owe the idea of permissions as a way of articulating a teaching philosophy to the writings of Rory Miller. He has a great list of permissions he gives his students.)

My sensei gave me three permissions: 1) the permission to learn something he hadn't taught me; 2) the permission to discover something he doesn't know – provided I show him, so he can learn it, too; 3) and the permission to stop doing what doesn't work.

I can remember way back in the 70's, I had purchased a pair of sai, and taught myself the sequence of a sai kata. (Now, I was doing a lot incorrectly, as the shredded sides of my gi and scratched flesh over my ribs could attest, but, I was trying.) I went into the Shotokan dojo where I trained one afternoon (no classes scheduled, and the floor was mine). I practiced empty hand kata, then, pulled out the sai and began to practice sai kata. That particular kata has a a movement in which the sai clash together. The sound brought my sensei out of his office. He watched for a moment, then said, "We don't do that." He then paused, struggling, I could tell, with some inner contradiction. "It is fine for you to do that, for it's historical value, but I do not want you to bring it into the dojo. I don't want people to be confused about what we do here."

That was the last time (actually, the only time) I brought sai into that school. But, it didn't stop me from training with the weapon. Nor from adding manji-sai, bo, nunti-bo and tonfa to my practice (never really picked up the kama or the nunchaku, though I own them, and can manage a few basics). In fact, I am currently working on a book on sai and manji-sai, and plan a follow-up on bo and nunti-bo.

Interestingly, about 25 years later, I checked out a website about my old dojo, and – lo and behold – my former sensei now teaches bo and tonfa.

In contrast, sensei Dillman expects his senior students to research and learn things he himself doesn't know. And, he expects us to share that knowledge. A typical weekend at the Dillman Training Camp in Pennsyvania will feature any number of arts taught by members of the organization. Sometimes what people bring back is "nothing special," but sometimes it is critical information which helps tremendously. That is why we incorporate kiai-jitsu into our practice, and that is why we incorporate toate-jitsu into our practice. These skills really began with students who learned something and brought it back.

There are risks in this. First, it is tempting for students to develop a "flavor of the month" attitude. Always learning something new can make novelty itself the value (in contrast, great masters spend most of their time learning something old). Second, when a student has permission to learn from another source, the sensei can end up losing that student to some other style, school, teacher or group that fits their fancy. Third, if a student learns something the teacher didn't know, and brings that back to the group, the student can begin to think that they have become something special, that they have attained a level superior to others.

But, the values outweigh the risks, because in a learning environment that is open, great learning possible. New information deepens our understanding of existing knowledge. It equips us to discover more information and unlocks new possibilities. And, it encourages lower ranked students, as high dans continue to model learning even after years of training. (This last one is important, because, at seminars we old-dudes often are seen standing around, talking, or watching with our thumbs in our belts. So, we really need to show that we are still learning, still discovering and still open to being taught something we don't know.)

Because I think these things are so important, these three permissions, I have taken to repeating them when I teach, repeating them around the world, and granting the same permission to everyone who trains with me.

Thanks for reading.

Now go train.

p.s. You'll notice I say there are three permissions, but I only talked about one of them. You can read this older post of mine where I talk about the permission to stop doing what doesn't work. http://christhomasmartialarts.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2009-07-06T07%3A12%3A00-07%3A00&max-results=7

Martial ARTist

2011-09-09T17:41:00.000-07:00

Ken Smith helping me demonstrate at a Dillman seminar).

My friend, Ken Smith, is a direct student of Professor Remy Presas, and is one of the designated inheritors of Modern Arnis. Ken loves to quote his beloved teacher, and when he does, he will do a spot-on impression of Remy's accent, phrasing and somewhat imperfect English. It is a funny, loving tribute. When he teaches Arnis, however, Ken sounds like Ken.

In contrast, I knew an American karate teacher, who, whenever he was teaching, sounded like his Japanese sensei, same broken English, same everything. I am only remembering this because my acupuncturist was telling me about fellow students (from his days studying kung fu) who started speaking like their Chinese sifu.

This tendency points to a fundamental problem, most martial artists are not artists at all, they are mimics. Their goal is to imitate and they hope to become clones of their teachers. Oddly, at the same time, they believe that their teachers are somehow imbued with other-worldly skills that no one else could ever attain.

But, as Professor Wally Jay like to say (I'm sure he said it often, but this is the exact way he said it to me), “No matter how hard you train a St. Bernard, it will never run like a greyhound. Everybody has a different way.” No one can become Bruce Lee, or Remy Presas, or Wally Jay. All anyone can do is be their own martial artist. So, Ken Smith is not Remy Presas. And even though he is inheritor of Modern Arnis, he still moves, thinks and teaches like Ken. And that is what makes him a martial artist.

Thanks for reading,

now go train.

Fajing

2011-09-04T20:07:00.000-07:00

Here is a post on fajing, explosive power.

Our New Book

2011-08-23T20:08:00.000-07:00

I've been getting questions about our new book Pressure Point Fighting Secrets of Ryukyu Kempo (being printed now, we expect delivery by the 1st of October).

Here's the story – it actually begins with our second book, Advanced Pressure Point Fighting of RYUKYU KEMPO. This book was produced using technology that has become outdated, and we are no longer able to reprint it. Not wanting that material to be lost to the martial arts community, we considered rebuilding the book from scratch. However, in the intervening years we have compiled more examples of pressure point applications and a greater understanding of the art we cherish. So, we have decided to produce a new book – one which retains content from Advanced Pressure Point Fighting of RYUKYU KEMPO, but also greatly expands on that content in both breadth and depth.

I want to be very clear on this. Our new book could be thought of as our second book on steroids, except, that wouldn't really do it justice.

For starters, I pulled the original negatives from our second book, and scanned them myself, correcting image problems and producing much better pictures. But, I didn't use everything. We edited out some material from our old book, and then added so much new. So, this new book contains many additional pressure points and their use; many new techniques; new photos of sensei Dillman performing Naihanchi Shodan; we added an appendix that details the energetics of stance, including the primary and secondary stances, the use of stance to modify energy flow, male and female characteristics, transitional stances and more.

When we originally published Advanced Pressure Point Fighting of RYUKYU KEMPO, we had hired a graphic designer to do the layout work. His aesthetics involved lots of white space, which looks nice, but is also kind of a waste of paper. So, in our new book, aesthetic white space gone. We've squeezed as much as we can into the pages in our desire to give you a real treasure for your study and learning.

You know how there are easter eggs and such in movies? Well, the equivalent in this book will be watching us grow old. The photos cover some 20 years, so, you can watch our hair grey and our waistlines grow. And let that be an encouragement to you. Ours is a lifetime study, with so much more to learn.

I'm excited.

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

Kobu-jitsu Masterclass

2011-07-28T19:11:00.001-07:00

I'd love to have you attend a training I'm offering on sai and bo. I promise two things: it won't look like what others teach, and it will make perfect sense.

Hope you can join us.

The Importance of Being Uke

2011-06-20T21:41:00.000-07:00

Chris Martingilio uke-ing for Will Higginbotham

Mike Mellgren uke-ing for Will Higginbotham

My daughter, April, grew up around martial arts, but didn't engage in formal training until she became an adult (I did insist she have some self-defense training). But, her entire exposure to martial arts, from childhood up has been our methods and theories, and it made a difference. When she was just a green belt, we were at a seminar with my teacher, Sensei George Dillman. The group was practicing a tuité technique and April was partnering with a tall, male, white belt. Being a male, he couldn't let a small woman put him in pain, so he was resisting the application of the technique. When April felt the resistance, she treated it as ordinary training and (in the way we always practice)immediately kicked her partner on Sp-11 to break his structure. He folded over, and she applied her technique – it was nothing special. (HE was shocked and dismayed, and Sensei was impressed, telling me, "Your daughter is very well trained!")

All of our training is that way. You just do it, layering principles and concepts in order overcome resistance. And to train this way, we have to be good training partners, attacking with intent, receiving our partner's counters so that good technique is nothing special.

Recently, after teaching a class to a group of newcomers to our principles, I asked April for her impressions. "They kept backing away," she said. We have often seen this, people wanting to know, but not wanting to feel. I can remember trying to teach a man, who panic stricken, backed away saying, "Don't DO it on me, it hurts." One of his colleagues laughed at him and said, "That's why it's called a MARTIAL art."

So, I have a saying – See it, feel it, do it. – which describes my learning philosophy. First you must "see it", observe, watch, pay attention to what is happening, how the technique is being performed, watching for nuance. This also means to listen to the explanation given by the teacher. But, there is a word of caution here. A good teacher will tell you what he or she is doing, though maybe not everything. If you are watching carefully, you can pickup the things the teacher is not saying, things which are intended for a later lesson. A bad teacher however, if that bad teacher is a decent martial artist, will tend to tell you something which is different from what the teacher is doing. A bad teacher simply passes on the script which she or he heard from another teacher. But, the bad teacher has never reverse-engineered the technique to understand what is actually happening. So, the old saying, do what I do, not what I say, applies to this phase of learning. Do what you observe, especially if that differs from what you are told.

Second, you must feel it. If you can understand how the technique works from within your own body, then it becomes easy to manipulate your opponent's body. There are three main ways to gain this skill. One: to the extent it is possible, practice on yourself. Much can be learned by poking, prodding, twisting and manipulating your own joints and points. Two: when working with a partner, help your partner make the technique work better on you by literally telling him/her how to create more pain in you. Three: (and this is the most useful step) volunteer to be the uke for the senior teachers. (Uke is the person on whom the teacher demonstrates a technique. The term means "one who receives", and is properly pronounced "oo-kay" though Americans commonly pronounce it "oo-kee".)

Chris Martingilio and Mike Mellgren waste no time stepping up to volunteer as uke for whichever senior is instructing. By allowing the senior to demonstrate on them, they get to feel how a move is supposed to be applied, and they pick up subtleties that others miss. So, while many around are backing away, grateful that Chris and Mike are being subjected to the pain, they are wisely enjoying a level of learning that the others are unaware of (otherwise, there would be a line of people asking to be uke). Now, I do admit that as the old man and the senior, it's nice to not have to act as uke much any more. But, I am ever so grateful for the years I was on the receiving end of Sensei's techniques, and I applaud Chris's and Mike's choice to step up often.

Third, and last, you must actually do it. How can you know that a knockout is possible unless you have performed knockouts? How can you know what correct application feels like unless you do it. Kyusho-jitsu and tuité are not primarily theoretical (despite the time and energy which goes into learning and understanding the theory). They are practical, in the hands as much or more than in the head. In the end, this knowledge requires hands-on training, and lots of it. In the end, there is no substitute for practice. So, see it, feel it, do it.

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

Even Masters Have More to Learn

2011-06-05T14:38:00.000-07:00

I have always been impressed by the eagerness of my sensei (George Dillman) to learn more and understand better. I saw the same quality in Professor Wally Jay. And, I hope I have something of that in me, as well. Maybe that is the quality which all masters must have to be masters. If so, I got to witness it in some senior Korean masters. You see, A few days of ago, I taught a group of very high ranking Taekwondo practitioners. At least one of them was from the Korean Tigers team (check them out on You Tube). And others were prominent competitors, coaches and teachers.

What was interesting for me was the eagerness of these masters to learn the techniques and principles of kyusho-jitsu and bunkai. For three hours, they peppered me with questions about their forms, and were delighted at what the movements represented. The experience showed me again how truly profound the teachings we (DKI/KJK) share are. And it showed me again how valuable our teachings are for those who have passed their competitive years. So, I guess the lesson is, keep studying, keep learning, keep working.

Thanks for reading,

Now, go train!

Wally Jay, June 16, 1917 - May 29, 2011

2011-05-30T08:18:00.000-07:00

I was at George Dillman’s Martial Arts Training Camp for a weekend training session. I knew before arriving – all of us knew – that Professor Wally Jay had been hospitalized for a stroke. I asked Sensei Dillman, “Is there any news on Wally?” (“Wally” – it says something about the man that one of the most respected teachers in the world was spoken of in such a familiar fashion.) “It doesn’t look good,” George replied. So, I was not surprised when I walked into his office Sunday morning to ask a question, only to find him sitting behind his desk with tears in his eyes. “Wally died,” he told me.

Since I am a clergyman, I led an impromptu funeral service at the camp, interrupting the training to announce the news. So many of the senior instructors present knew Wally, some very well. Those who didn’t know Wally himself, know Leon Jay, Wally’s son, and heir of Small Circle Jujitsu, so there was much emotion in the room. For those of you who were not present, I would like to share something of our service (as accurately as my memory permits).

Will Higginbotham, who was very close to Wally, was teaching. I walked up with a paper napkin in my hand, as he was saying to the group, “Ok, let’s get up and try that.” “No,” I said, handing Will the napkin (we knew he would be crying), “We have learned that Professor Wally Jay died during the early hours of this morning.” Stunned (but not surprised) silence fell on everyone. Then I read a few words from the apostle Paul: “The things that I have taught to you, teach to reliable individuals who will be able to teach it to others also.”

“We are the people Professor taught, it is our responsibility to teach others also. But, it is not just about his jujitsu. Wally Jay was a remarkable human being and we must teach those values as well. I would like to tell you the story of when I first met Wally. It was during a combined Wally Jay/George Dillman seminar. At one point, we were practicing one of sensei Dillman’s joint manipulation techniques. Unfamiliar with the particular movement being practiced, Professor Jay walked over to the nearest of Dillman’s students (who happened to be me) and said, ‘Show me how to do that.’ I was deeply impressed by the fact that there was no ego in the way of the Professor’s desire to learn something he didn’t already know, and how willing he was to learn from anyone.”

I then asked the senior teachers to share one story about Professor. Will Higginbotham spoke about a call he received from Professor. “He called me and said he wanted to come to my house for a couple of days before teaching a seminar. He arrived with his notebook in hand, and began asking me questions.” For two days, Wally pumped Higginbotham for information on pressure points – occasionally stopping to show Higginbotham same nuance or subtlety of Small Circle Jujitsu. “I was honored to be receiving such instruction from Professor. But, it was Professor Jay who took my hand and said, ‘Thank you for teaching me.’”

Ken Smith, one of Professor Remy Presas’ most senior students echoed the sentiment. “The first time I met Wally Jay was at a Wally Jay/Remy Presas seminar. We were training sinawali, and Wally picked up a pair of sticks. Remy said to me, ‘Ken, you go teach Wally.’ So, I went over to teach Wally Jay, shaking with fear. While we were practicing, Wally accidentally hit me in the hand, but that was ok. Then, a little later, I accidentally hit Wally Jay in the hand. I felt so bad, and was apologizing, but Wally just smiled, and said, ‘Don’t worry, soon we will be putting down the sticks, and then it will be my turn.’” Ken’s final words were, “Now Remy has a training partner with him in heaven.”

Kim Dillman Foreman remembered when Wally, Remy and George began to first do their big three seminars. “I would get up, and Remy and Wally would already be up, trading techniques and information. And because I was up first, I got to be the designated uke. Wally was such a kind and gracious man, he was like a father to so many of us.”

Matt Brown, another of Dillman’s senior students, spoke of a time (the last time) when Wally had been at the Dillman training camp. The topic of training had included work on “toate” (methods of affecting a person without physical contact). Students were working on moving each other by projecting energy. Matt said, “Wally comes up to me and says, ‘Matt, see if that works on me.’ So, I was trying to move Wally using my chi. ‘Is it working, Professor?’ I asked. ‘I can’t tell,’ Wally responded. ‘I’m 85 years old, I always sway back and forth.’”

Then it came George Dillman's turn to speak. At first sensei couldn’t say anything, but only covered his face with his hands. Then, with tear streaked cheeks and a smile of happy memories he told us, “If you knew Wally and Bernice, you knew they always over-packed for a trip. So a couple of younger guys had been helping carry these large bags of luggage to the hotel room. Wally had unzipped a bag part way and was starting to unpack, when they asked him his secret to living so long and with such vitality. ‘First, you must live a healthy life,’ he told them. ‘Don’t smoke and don’t drink.’ But Wally’s bag was so heavy it was unzipping itself, and as he was telling them about healthy living, out fell a big bag of Snickers bars. I laughed at him, and he looked at me and said, ‘You gotta have at least one vice.’ After that, I called some of my students, and told them that they should bring Wally bags of Snickers Bars when they picked him up at the airport. So then Wally called me and said, ‘You told them!’

“And another time, we were were teaching a seminar together in Minnesota. Wally had this one guy in a leg lock. His other leg was on the floor, and I said, ‘I think you can knock him out!’ ‘How?’ said Wally. I told him to stomp the leg on the floor, hitting along the spleen meridian. ‘But what if he get’s hurt?’ Wally asked. ‘That’s ok.’ I said, ‘I’ll tell ‘em that you did it.’”

That story made me smile, because I was the guy Wally had in a leg lock.

I finished our impromptu service by reminding everyone of the scripture that tells us, “There is a time to be born and a time to die.” I followed with a prayer, entrusting Wally’s soul to the mercy of our Creator, expressing our faith that our lives continue in God’s love, and asking for God’s comfort upon Wally’s family and all who mourn his passing. Then I reminded everyone again that it was our responsibility to preserve and pass on Professor’s teachings and example. And, with the final Amen, I said, “We need to honor Wally Jay, now, by practicing finger locks.” And so, we returned to our training, focusing on the small circle concepts that had become so central to our practice of pressure point methods and joint manipulation. And we all, like sensei Dillman, smiled with tear-filled eyes as we celebrated Wally Jay in his teachings.

Sai-jitsu

2011-05-03T18:19:00.000-07:00

A while ago, when I taught a sai-jitsu seminar, I learned that one attendee would be a teacher from one of those American-Karate-Black-Belt-Schools-of-Excellence-of-America schools. I figured the poor guy would be completely and hopelessly lost when exposed to genuine classical sai usage (as opposed to competition flash). So, I was watching for him to arrive, and he did. But, then I noticed his sai, not holographic toys, but actually decent Shureido® brand.

I went up to talk with him, and he told me that he had wanted to supplement his contemporary American Competition Karate Style with something traditional. So, he began to study a solid and very legitimate kobudo system. I figured he would be right at home during the training. Well, that was almost true.

During the seminar, I taught methods of the sai which are in accordance to the nature and shape of the weapon. However, these methods differ considerably from what is typically taught. So, my traditionally trained guest was stunned and dismayed to be performing the exact movement he was taught, but to devastating effect, (finding that even the subtle aspects of the movement were integral to the technique).

What is significant is that classical sai methods are very obvious (once you have been shown them, it is like, "Duh!") and kind of easy to perform (the weapon does the work). My experience is that, once a person learns the classical use of a weapon – any weapon, really – it becomes incredibly easy to understand how most weapons are to be used. And reading the kata becomes pretty easy. However, classical weapons use is not cool, not flashy, and not nice – just real.

I'll be teaching classical methods for bo and sai in Romeoville, IL, on May 14. Join me if you can (brown & black belts only for the sai-jitsu training). Until then, thanks for reading.

Now, go train.

Managing Dan Rank

2011-03-03T17:54:00.001-08:00

The management of dan rank is difficult in any group. For example, how should we handle the person who has trained for a long time, but hasn't attained the skill or understanding to receive a promotion? Should a black belt be awarded on the basis of years of training? And what about the economic needs of the school to use ranking as a means of student retention? (When asked by a senior student about the rank awarded to an unqualified individual, one Grandmaster commented, "Oh, that is just business.") And what about the individual who thinks they deserve the rank, even though the testing authority has not agreed? (I have seen people become angry at the testing board for not passing them, rather than asking why they have not risen to the standard.) And what of the rank-chasers, those who go from group to group, enticed into a new organization with the promise of promotion? (By the way, I've been accused of being a rank-chaser. Oh well.)

Organizationally, rank is a complication as well. Promotion can both help and hurt a group's growth. For example, if a group is reaching into a new area of the world (the way DKI – Dillman Karate International – has) it is common for the first person of rank who joins to become the local head, and to receive a rank indicating that position of leadership. But, often, as others join, much better practitioners become part of the group, yet, they are given lower rankings so they do not seem like a threat the the leader.

And, who should decide rank in an organization, anyway? Should the individual teacher have authority over his or her student's rank? Should the head of the organization make the decision? Should the organization itself, through a testing board, be the sole arbiter of rank?

Within the gathering of my own students, I decided to try a hybrid approach. I hold my students responsible for overseeing the ranking of their own students up to the rank of nidan. But then, for sandan, every candidate must test before our board, and no sandan rank is issued without the board test. (And, I hold myself to this standard and refuse to issue any sandan rank on my own.) In this way, we try to create a "choke point", a place where all advancing students are subjected to a quality assurance measure. This helps the organization to insure that similarly ranked students in different schools and clubs have similar skill sets, knowledge levels and technical abilities. This helps different teachers to evaluate their students against the students of other teachers, in order to identify areas of instruction where improvement is needed. And this helps the individual student to know that, upon passing and promotion, their sandan rank legitimately represents a genuine achievement.

Our testing board is assembled in two parts, the evaluation team and the grading team.

The evaluation team is composed of 4th - 6th dans. They evaluate the candidates' performance on objective and specific criteria. Candidates are judged on technical skill (correctness of movement, body mechanics and technique); on application competency (the ability to demonstrate actual ability against an opponent in both the fixed settings of kata breakdown, and the dynamic setting of the stress drill bogu-randori); and knowledge of the required areas of content (kyusho-jitsu and tuité-jitsu). After the test the scores are tallied and the determination is made whether the candidate has passed the evaluation portion of the test. The first-time candidate cannot receive promotion without passing the evaluation portion, but, passing the evaluation portion is not a guarantee of promotion.

The grading team is composed of 7th dan and above, and has the task of determining the actual rank a passing candidate receives. This is because we are sometimes receiving people into the group who already have years of experience in the martial arts. We need them to go through the sandan board test as a way of insuring that they have the skills to represent DKI, but, if they have the years of training and the level of skill to warrant a rank higher than sandan, it is not appropriate to under-rank for the sake of some kind of rite of passage.

I mentioned that a person cannot be promoted on their first board test unless they pass the evaluation portion. However, there is more to rank than simple fulfillment of a set of technical requirements. For example, everyone has some physical limitation which interferes with their ability to perform exactly. Part of mastery in the martial arts is overcoming our limitations and finding effective ways to compensate for our weaknesses. So, sometimes truly great martial artists have very poor skills in certain areas. How can they be properly rated? And this is also part of the role of the grading team. As senior instructors, the grading team members have the skills to evaluate the bigger picture, to measure the martial artist as a whole. So, the grading team, after consultation with the evaluation team, makes the final determination on pass/fail for returning candidates. And those candidates can be promoted even if they come short on the technical portions, provided that their overall performance reveals that they have the competency which corresponds to the rank.

Our theory is that this combination of functions allows us to balance objective quality control with respect to specific content and competencies, against a more global view of the entire martial artist. But, in the process, we have also found that the board itself must grow. In order for criteria to be fairly and consistently applied, the graders have had to receive training in what they are grading and what they are looking for. We have developed a specific testing procedure, scoring sheet for the evaluation team, and clearly articulated roles for the examiners to try to standardize the testing process (so each candidate "takes the same test"). And here, again, balance has become an issue.

What is it we are after, martial artists who can mimic a set of expectations, or martial artists who have a creative grasp of the material? We need for the candidates to have solid technical skills (for the sake of quality control and maximum growth) but we also need for them to demonstrate the less quantifiable attributes of creativity and flexibility in performance. As a result, our testing procedure includes major sections of open demonstration (kata bunkai portions), during which the candidate demonstrates for the board whatever the candidate chooses, rather than performing a preset group of techniques. So, we have had candidates demonstrate application of kata wearing (and utilizing in the bunkai) law enforcement gear, demonstrate empty hand kata bunkai as cross-interpreted with Modern Arnis, demonstrate standing kata movements as ground grappling, demonstrate novel pressure point knockouts and surprising takes on movement and use. And every test ends with the question, "Is there anything else you would like to show us or demonstrate?" – a chance for candidates to share areas of additional knowledge and skill.

Our sandan test is very challenging, and many candidates do not pass (though many return to try again), but, it does assure that I present to my Sensei only those who can truly represent what Dillman Karate International is all about. And it also insures that within DKI, KJK is known as a source and center of excellence.

Thanks for reading, now go train.

The Withdrawing Hand

2010-11-09T04:21:00.000-08:00

When I first studied martial arts (40 years ago) I was instructed to pull one hand back strongly to my hip or (in a few cases) abdomen. Pull it back strongly, I was instructed, to strengthen the outgoing hand. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, Isaac Newton figured out. So, by pulling back strongly, I was to add force to my strike. I never questioned this, because I'm a sucker for science-themed explanations.

Years later, I met Sensei George Dillman. He said the withdrawing hand (hiki-te) is extremely important as a devastating component of pressure point techniques. "Watch this hand," he would quietly tell me whenever I asked him to show me a new point or a new knock-out. As a result, I now seek to be a student of hiki-te, an aficionado of the withdrawing hand. Enjoy this little video mini-blog.

Annual Training Event

2010-11-07T14:47:00.000-08:00

I never set out to have students. In fact, I did things designed to make it difficult for people to train with me. Funny how that didn't stop anyone. As a result, I have a group of very skillful martial artists, all black belts, who train with me. And they have students of their own, so I'm a grandpa-sensei.

For some years now, we have held an annual (two-day) training event in Madison, WI, which we call the Annual Gathering. Anyway, I've attached the flier. If you want to come, send me an email at

christhomasmartialarts@gmail.com

and I'll reply with one of those paypal "buy it now" thingees. It's kind of cool because, instead of telling you to "go train," now I can invite you to "come train."

More on Traditional Movements

2010-11-01T20:28:00.000-07:00

My teacher, George Dillman, likes to say to people at a seminar, "Ask questions; good questions make a good seminar." Well, Ken asked a simple question about how to interpret traditional movements, and it turns out to have been a good question, because, here I am, still answering it. Really, you're getting this for free while people pay good money to have me teach them this stuff. Anyway, enjoy.

Isshin-ryu's Specialized Small Person Techniques

2010-10-26T04:56:00.000-07:00

The Isshin-ryu style was developed by Tatsuo Shimabuku. Shimabuku was a student of Chojun Miyagi (founder of Goju-ryu Karate-do), Choki Motobu (Motobu-ryu Karate-jitsu), and Chotoku Kyan (Shorin-ryu). Kyan was particularly small even by Okinawan standards, so he had modified the traditional kata Chinto with specialized movements for use against larger opponents. Shimabuku was on the small side of average for an Okinawan (about 5' 4", roughly 135 pounds). However, he had found himself in the Phillipines training Japanese military how to fight against their larger American opponents. (The "official" story, in a letter from Angi Uezu, Shimabuku's son-in-law, is that Shimabuku was in the Phillipines as a geisha – by which I assume Uezu meant entertainer – and that he "loved" Americans.)

The insights of his teacher Kyan were clearly invaluable in solving the American problem, and they are evident in Shimabuku's Isshin-ryu style, a style which truly favors small person's techniques for use against much larger opponents. Ironically, in the U.S., Isshin-ryu is more of a "big man's" system, owing to the large stature of the original pioneers, men like Steve Armstrong, Harry Smith, Harold Long.

This video mini-blog shows the use of a signature Isshin-ryu technique from the kata Kushanku.

Using Traditional Movements Continues (on and on and...)

2010-10-20T05:04:00.000-07:00

I'm back to answering Ken's question about the use of traditional movements.

Isshin-ryu's "O-uchi"

2010-10-14T19:46:00.000-07:00

Here is a Video Mini-Blog about a technique from Isshin-ryu (and Ryukyu kempo and Tai Chi)

Using Traditional Movements Continues

2010-10-14T19:07:00.000-07:00

I continue to explain how to use traditional movements. This time using the move "knife-hand" (shuto-uke).

Interpreting Traditional Movements (Pt. 2)

2010-10-05T18:26:00.000-07:00

Here is the next installment in my answer on interpreting traditional movments

Interpreting Traditional Movements (Pt. 1)

2010-10-02T04:27:00.000-07:00

One of the questions I received (from Ken in St. Louis) required several Video Mini-Blogs to answer. This is the first part. Enjoy.

Tai Chi Posture

2010-10-02T04:23:00.000-07:00

This quick Video Mini-Blog explains how to find good posture for tai chi – head pressed up, chin tucked, back straight, shoulders rounded, chest sunk.

Tai Chi, relaxed yet firm

2010-09-28T12:22:00.000-07:00

Tai chi chuan is relaxed, but not limp. It should feel like a steel bar wrapped in cotton.

Training in Chen Tai Chi Chuan

2010-09-28T04:08:00.000-07:00

Photo: Xuejiao Chen, Jean-Paul Bindel, Chris Thomas, Thierry Mas

(Thierry is sifu Chen's husband. In the Photo, note how Jean-Paul and I look hot and sweaty, while sifu Chen and Thierry look cool and dry.)

While I was in France, I had the pleasure of training with a Chen-family master. This was my second time training with a Chen family master, the first time was with 19th generation master Chen Xiao Wang. This time, I received training from 21st generation master Chen Xuejao. My DKI-colleague in France, Jean-Paul Bindel, invited me to attend and introduced my to this fine master. Such a pleasure! Madame Chen is a superb technician, with powerful and mature movements which defy her age (she is 26 or 27) and her "condition" (she is pregnant with her first child and due in December).

During the class, sifu Chen made direct and frequent references to the martial uses of Chen tai chi chuan. For her, the health benefits of the movements – the usual reason for people to take tai chi – are inseparable from the martial application. If you visualize the application, you will move correctly. If you move correctly, your energy will flow in a healthy and life sustaining manner.

As a Yang style practitioner, I found the Chen to be challenging and fascinating. It was also interesting to see what sifu Chen did not teach outwardly – an interesting "stirring" movement which initiated several of her actions.

As a pressure point practitioner, I found Chen style to be very effective. Clearly, I have a very unique perspective on tai chi. I believe that a great way to "move a thousand pound with four ounces" is to use pressure points. I am not saying that pressure points are the "best" way to do this, or the "true" way to do this, but it is my preferred way. And this made for interesting dinner conversation after class. Sifu Chen was knowledgeable about points but somewhat more cautious about their use than we western kyusho-jitsu practitioners tend to be.

I am definitely going to explore Chen style. I don't know if that means I will become a practitioner, or if it means that I will simply steal as much knowledge from the system as I can. Either way, I look forward to my next chance to train with Chen Xuejao.

Thanks for reading,

Now, go train!

Video mini-blog: Full Intent

2010-09-28T03:27:00.000-07:00

Video Blog: Not Doing Anything

2010-09-15T13:30:00.001-07:00

I get questions about Chi

2010-09-10T10:51:00.000-07:00

I got a question from Christa, she wrote, Good morning Master Thomas. I was wondering if I could bother you for your take on what chi is. I didn't believe in it before I started martial arts and I dont want the wrong belief in place of no belief...

This is how I answered:

Well... The word chi has many meanings, so there is no one definition possible (for example, in Japanese "gen-ki" refers to physical health). But here are some ways I think about it:

First, the word chi is equivalent to the word prana, is equivalent to the word ruach, is equivalent to the word pneuma, is equivalent to the word spiritus, all of which mean breath, all of which mean spirit, and all of which could mean the animating principle of life. So, the word chi-gung means "breath work", and, in its basic form, it is (just) a series of breathing exercises.

If we speak in terms of physics, we say (E=MC[squared]) that everything is just energy. Even what we call matter, is just energy. Particles are just energy. To put it in non-scientific language, everything is made of light.

Now, when I reach my hand out to grab a glass, I am moving and directing energy by conscious intent. When I slow my breathing down, or meditate, or calm down an intense emotional state, or work up emotional agitation, I am manipulating energy by conscious intent.

We also believe that it is possible to move energy around in the body by conscious intent, and even to consciously extend energy beyond the apparent material boundaries of our bodies. And this we refer to using the term chi-gung.

Personally, when I do chi-gung, I bind it to my spiritual work (and here I mean "spiritual" in the religious sense). I don't have time or inclination to practice a breathing exercise, then practice an energy-mind-intention-projection exercise, then engage in a spiritual discipline like contemplative prayer. So, I incorporate a traditional breath-prayer in my chi-gung and try to accomplish all these things at once. This works well for me.

And I got a question from Dave, who wrote, How do you explain chi to christians? I am one but some of the "brouthern" think Im headed to you know where thanks for any help

This is how I answered:

Personally, I simply talk about energy from a physics perspective. Everything is energy, even what we call "matter". So, if I reach out my hand to touch someone, I am moving energy by conscious intent. We know that energy also radiates out bodies in the form of light (mostly infrared, but some visible light as well), radio waves, microwaves, em-fields, etc. In the martial arts, we simply believe that it is possible to direct some of these radiating energies by conscious intent, as well.

Then, I emphasize that the practice of chi does not involve call upon any false gods or spirits for assistance, or putting faith in any other God but God.

But, mostly, I just allow people to see my faith and my faithfulness. If they choose to be narrow-minded I cannot change that. If they choose to judge me, well, they are not my judge, before my own Master I will stand or fall (and stand I will, for He will make me stand [Rm 14]).

Hope this helps a bit.

Today I will be studio answering questions on video blog. I expect them to start posting right away (even though I will be in France teaching – see you soon, Jean-Paul).

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

What Constitutes Winning?

2010-08-27T18:53:00.001-07:00

What constitutes winning? Every sporting contest defines this before the game begins. But, in self defense, what does it mean to win? Who decides this? What does it mean for us when others impose their answers on us?

A martial artist might be attacked on the street, and execute a picture perfect round kick to the attacker's head. Bam, just like in the movies. Just like in the dojo. The ideal of winning – ippon! But, suddenly that same martial artist might find himself being judged guilty of the use of excessive force. After all, a martial artist, a black belt, should have some restraint. I mean, my goodness, he kicked him in the head (DA's and jurors often have unrealistic notions of what constitutes a reasonable response to attack, and what reasonable people actually do in the moment of actual threat).

And then there are the armchair critics. There are always those who say, "You should have done this..." Or, "I wouldn't have done that..." It is easy to imagine what we would or wouldn't do, but in the actual moment, what we actually do may be quite different from our fantasy. When I talk to people who have survived assaults, they often do this to themselves, saying, "I should have done this or that." I am usually the one saying, "You did great! The fact that you are standing here today proves that you are stronger than your attacker."

So, questions of winning and losing are about not only the moment of assault, but also about what happens later. Consider this scenario, a women is raped. In one version of the scene, the women chooses to endure the outrage to survive, so she does not fight back. In another version of the scene, the woman decides to fight back – survive or die, to fight back. So she fights, she struggles, she bites, she scratches, and for her resistance she gets punched into incapacity, suffering a broken jaw, a broken rib, and multiple bruises in addition to being raped. Now, if we define winning as survival with a minimum of injury, the woman who chose to endure to survive has come out ahead of the women who chose to fight. However,...

Later the women are at the hospital being examined for forensic evidence. In the emotional aftermath of the assault, the first women is saying, "I was so scared, I just wanted it to be over. I just disconnected from my body. It was like I was watching from afar. I felt so helpless." And the second women is saying, "I couldn't stop the son-of-a-bitch, but I gave him something to remember. He may be stronger than me, but I wasn't going to let him rape me without a fight. Check my fingernails, I know I have his DNA there. And start looking for a guy with scratches and teeth marks."

So, who is in a better position to survive the long term effects of the rape? There is no right answer to the question of whether to fight back, or to endure to survive. And there is no right answer to the question of what it means to win under these circumstances. There is only the answer each of us chooses for our own selves. My only suggestion is to choose ahead of time, to be mentally prepared. But, remember, if you are attacked and things don't go the way you imagined they, you have the right to redefine what it means for you to win.

Thanks for reading,

Now, go train.

P.S. There is still time to send me questions to answer for you on a series of video blogs I will be recording and posting soon. Just send your question to me at christhomasmartialarts@gmail.com

Lipstick

2010-07-30T18:40:00.001-07:00

Two friends of mine had the opportunity to train with Taika Oyata-sensei (whom I have never had the pleasure of meeting). They were the only two people in the room who were not from Oyata's group. Everyone else was wearing the characteristic gi of Oyata's Ryu-te school, which consists of a jacket similar to a standard karate jacket, tucked into a a pair of matching nobakama (similar to the ones I mentioned in a previous post, though a bit less traditional). Oyata-sensei walked up to my friends to greet them. He pointed at their black belts, then motioned across his lips, and said, "Lipstick! That's liiip-stiick." What a great sentiment, because it's true. Our belts are for dress-up.

I have noticed that we have made a great business out of rank in the martial arts. What rank someone is becomes of vital importance. "Are you a black belt?" Is always the first question. Our belts are around our waists to make sure everyone knows where we fit in the pecking order, to make sure everyone knows our rank. And dan exams nowadays are nothing more than rights of passage. When a student is allowed to test, the instructor has already decided to promote them. If they make it through the hazing, excuse me, I mean testing process, they will receive the promotion. And if they do not make it through the hazing, I mean testing process, they will still receive the promotion.

When I was 17, it was announced at my dojo that Matayoshi Nakayama-sensei would be visiting from Japan in the fall. Included in his visit would be a dan exam. At that time, I had been a brown belt for about 2 1/2 years. The prospect of testing for black belt (black belt testing occurred only once or twice per year) under the chief instructor of the style was wondrous to me. And so, like other candidates, I worked for 6 months to get ready. I trained a minimum of 10 hours a week in the dojo, working hard on every requirement. As the test date drew near, it became well known at my high school (I was a senior) that I was testing, so all my friends and classmates were wishing me good luck and their best hopes, not to mention the support of my family.

During the test I was nervous but prepared. I performed each of the elements with the confidence of 4 1/2 years of training, the last 6 months of which were devoted specifically to hard preparation for that test. After the test, dojo-mates told me how well I did, and expressed assurances about the outcome. The outcome was announced at a formal dinner in a Japanese restaurant. We were seated on cushions at low tables, in a large tatami covered room (divide-able with sliding doors which had been removed to accommodate the crowd). After the meal, there were various announcements. Nakayama-sensei was given gifts, including an ancient iron tsuba (sword guard). And finally, the rankings were announced.

They began with the names of those who were being awarded provisional black belt rankings (with rank tests so few and far between, this was not uncommon). I remember thinking how I hoped my name would not be among that group, and it wasn't. The announcement continued with the names of those being promoted to 1st dan. As each name was called, there was applause and congratulations. Then, as they moved on to the second dan promotions, it hit me, I had failed my black belt test. All those months of intense training, all that effort, all the assurances of my dojo-mates, all the people(!) who would be asking me if I passed, and I had failed.

Monday at school was awful. "Did you pass?" No. "How'd you do?" I failed. Monday night at the dojo wasn't much better. There I was, back in that brown belt (I hate brown belts, the color of sh*t, because being a brown belt is sh*tty), doing the same things all over again. Punches, kicks, basics, kata, sparring. I had failed my test, and I was clearly doomed to be a brown belt forever. What was the point of even continuing this karate thing?

Since that first dan exam, I have taken other dan exams. And that first test was not the only one I failed, though, clearly, I've passed some as well. But, failing that first test turned out to be incredibly valuable for me. By failing, I knew that passing wasn't a "gimme". I was being held to a standard, and I would either meet that standard or not. And failing forced me to ask myself what I was training for. Was my goal in karate just to attain a black belt? Was it just about that piece of cloth, that status? Was I a dan-chaser, or was I a martial artist?

After 40 years in the martial arts, I mostly agree with Oyata-sensei – lipstick. But, I actually like my belt, though I don't really like my rank. With the amount of talent and skill I see in my many colleagues, I usually feel over-ranked. But I do like my belt. It is tattered and worn, and that says something about my training and my values. The belt is a record of my years. However, I am getting older, and a bit wider in the middle, so now, when I knot my belt, it is starting to look a bit like a bow tie. So, I suppose I need to get a new (read longer) belt, and then wear that one out. Or maybe, I'll just go with nobakama like Oyata-sensei. And then, maybe not, because nobakama make my butt look fat.

Thanks for reading.

Now go train.

Taking Your Questions

2010-07-28T16:53:00.000-07:00

I've been getting questions. Folks have been shooting me questions through my Facebook Fan Page. But, everyone doesn't get to share in the answers. So, during the month of August, I'm taking your questions, and starting the first week of September, I'll be answering them in video clips on my blog. Please send your questions to my email address, christhomasmartialarts@gmail.com, and then watch the answers.

Thanks in advance for your questions.

Now, go train.

Cool & Interesting

2010-07-17T16:16:00.000-07:00

My son and I were talking about folks who like cosplay. Someone who had a booth at a scifi/comic convention invited him to visit. My son told me about the amazing costumes. There were Klingons, and Ironman(s) and characters I had never heard of. And these weren't vendors, these were attendees. "I was dressed in kaki's and a henley, and was completely out of place," he said.

As we talked about the colorful characters at that convention, it did not escape our notice (O, the irony) that we were wearing our karate costumes and spending the weekend in the practice of pain. As my friend Steve Cooper observed, "We're a bunch of sick puppies."

When people talk about the practice of martial arts they speak of many purposes and values. Some talk about the health benefits, and this is abundantly true. Martial movements (especially when done properly) move the body in ways that are great for maintaining health well into old age (just check out Hohan Soken doing kata as a very old man with a lot of energy). Other people talk about the spiritual and personal values of martial arts training. Discipline, self-control, courtesy, perseverance, and more, come with years of practice and training.

Self-defense is always a big reason for training. As a classical martial artist, I believe the movements of the old kata are for practical fighting (which looks almost nothing like the way in which those same movements are used by most modern martial artists). This even crosses over to my practice of old Okinawan weapons. When I do a sai kata, it looks the same as someone else's sai kata. But, when I use the movements of that kata, it looks like I am using an entirely different weapon. Yet, I will never be attacked when I am armed with sai. Nor will I ever be attacked by someone wielding the type of weapon sai was designed to deal with (except in the dojo, of course). So why would I practice sai-jitsu.

For that matter, why do I practice martial arts at all? Why do I spend so much time training in preparation for an attack which probably will never occur? The answer is simple. I think martial arts are really interesting and really cool. The first time I took a lesson, at age 12, and I was told, "Stand like this, bend your knee like this," I was hooked, fascinated by the complexity and intricacy, by the body of knowledge to learn, the specialized vocabulary, the unique methods. And for all the values I have received from my years of training, I train today because, 40 years later, I still find it really interesting.

So, I am like those die-hard fans at the scifi/comic conventions – the ones whose costumes don't look like costumes at all, the ones who have really invested time and energy into what they are doing, the ones who actually can speak Klingon, the ones who think it is really interesting and cool. I train, I speak the language, I wear the cool costume. In fact, when I practice weapons, I don't use the cheap crap sold by Ce•••ry. Noooo. I have the really good quality weapons. And I even wear a special costume for weapons work, a special blue hakama in the working style called nobakama, because, I think weapons training (kobujitsu) is really interesting and cool, and I want to look cool when I'm doing it.

Thanks for reading.

No, go train!

The Taller You Would Build the Tower

2010-07-11T18:20:00.000-07:00

Sensei George Dillman demonstrating an impressive knock out.

I was in Indianapolis, at an annual 3 day training with my sensei George Dillman (okay, I was only there 2 days, because someone had to work Sunday morning). The weekend is organized and sponsored by Will Higginbotham, one of my colleagues in DKI. Another of my colleagues, Matt Brown, was teaching some advanced work on manipulating internal energy (qi). One of the up-and-coming instructors, Shane Lear, was teaching material he has learned in China, which also focused on energy work. I got a chance to teach and experiment with the use of primary and secondary elemental stances (an extension of elemental stance theory worked out by Dustin Seale and myself). And sensei Dillman showed some quality technique and methodology (along with a stunning and unexpected leg knockout). All in all, the training was at a very high level, appropriate to the number of long-time and high-ranking students attending (as my daughter put it, "There was a lot of red in the room" referring, of course, to the red on the belts of the seniors).

Today (Sunday) was a work day for me, with church services and a burial. But, here and there I found myself with a few moments to play around and do what I call "restroom karate". I should explain that. The name refers to my habit of doing a few techniques anytime I find myself alone in a lavatory – right after I wash my hands, when I can still check my technique in the mirror. So, "restroom karate" is when you steal a few seconds of training here and there throughout the day. So, today, as I stole time here and there for a few seconds of training, I noticed that, following all that advanced work in Indianapolis, I was training basic stances and basic movements.

This might seem odd to others, who might assume that I would be practicing qi-gung and working on advanced material. But it doesn't seem odd to me for a very simple reason – the taller you would build the tower, the stronger you must build the foundation. When martial artists become excited about advanced material and turn their art and training into nothing but advanced stuff, they can appear impressive (even astonishing) and knowledgeable, but without a proportionately strong grounding in fundamentals of movement and posture and stance and alignment, their towering knowledge cannot survive the disturbances of combat.

So, it seems to me, that the more advanced material I learn, study and practice, the more I have to return again and again to fundamentals. In fact, I have come to believe that a master is just someone who fell in love with the basics.

Thanks for reading,

Now go train!

2010-06-11T19:53:00.000-07:00

I will be teaching in France in September. Here is a truly beautiful flier for Sept 25 seminar. Click on the image to download.

2010-05-23T19:06:00.001-07:00

I was at a karate demo, and saw what contemporary martial arts looks like. Mmmm. At times, the demonstrators would use weapons. Their weapons sure were sparkly.

As I watched, I found myself thinking, What is that? Their movements occasionally mimicked traditional actions, but more often than not, didn't look like anything. For these players, weapons are fun props for their performances, and nothing more.

Just like empty hand practice, I find that most people who train with weapons have no idea how to hold them, much less, use them. So, it seems as if I am adopting another mission – to introduce the correct usage of traditional weapons to people who think they are "fun" rather than scary.

So, I will be conducted a Master Class on the correct use of sai on the last Friday of June, in Madison, WI. Just click on the image to download the flier. Hope to see you then. In the meantime

Go train!

2010-05-17T05:35:00.000-07:00

I'm offering a special and very limited bargain – my new Self-defense Rescripted DVD & the book Effortless Self-Defense for Women (co-authored with Kimberly Dillman Foreman). This is a $69.90 value for only 49.95. But, I have only 25 sets to sell (limited bargain). This should appear in the store shortly.

2010-05-04T05:23:00.001-07:00

I will be teaching a Friday evening seminar in the Milwaukee area. Just click on the image to download the flier.

Self-Defense Rescripted

2010-04-24T06:24:00.001-07:00

Imagine this scenario: you are in fifth grade, and the annoying bully who sits near you likes to pounce when you are trying to write something. His method is to grab the end of your pencil as you are writing and move the pen around to make a mess on your paper. Of course, you have done all the usual, told him to "Cut it out," tried to pull your pencil away. But, nothing changes. So, one day, you do none of the usual things. Instead you place your free hand over his hand as he grabs your pencil and hold his hand to your pencil. Rather than trying to pull away, you pin his hand in place. Now, he is trying to pull away, because the situation has taken a completely unexpected turn, and he has somehow become stuck.

Imagine this scenario: you are playing with your favorite stuffed animal, and your older brother tries to take it from you. Your usual response is to hug your toy tightly to your chest, while saying, "It's mine! You can't have it!" However, this time, instead of pulling the toy to your chest, you grab your brother's arm (which is holding the stuffed animal) and pull it to your chest, saying "It's mine, you can't have it!" Now, being your brother, you feel justified in adjusting the balance of power somewhat. So, you sink your baby teeth into his wrist. Now, he is yelping and struggling to get free of the death grip you have on his arm. What started as struggle over your toy has been transformed into a struggle over your brother's arm. What started as you trying to escape him has been transformed into him desperate to escape you. This is what I call "rescripting."

When an assailant attacks he has a scenario planned out. He has already determined the time and place for action. He has tried to reduce the number of variables to basically two possible outcomes. Either his potential victim will play out the role of compliant victim, or the role of struggling prey. Rescripting means to change the plot, to take the encounter down an unexpected path, to alter the storyline. Change the narrative, change the outcome.

In a previous blog, I introduced the concept of "Single Scenario Tactical Solutions," which is an approach to teaching self defense by teaching one simple movement concept which can be applied to handle a wide variety of tactical problems. The core movement I teach is based on natural biomechanics and chosen for it's value as a method of rescripting. It is an amazingly powerful approach to self defense, and has become central to my teaching.

Of course, I can only introduce the concept in a blog, but I am happy to say that my new Self-Defense Rescripted DVD is completed and now available. I am really pleased with how it turned out, and even more pleased to see how my approach to self-defense has matured over the years. I'm sure you will find it a very helpful resource both personally and professionally. But remember, knowledge alone is not enough – there's no substitute for training. So…

Thanks for reading,

Now, go train.

The Importance of a Strong Foundation

2010-03-23T13:55:00.000-07:00

Me teaching in Switzerland.

A couple of DKI-Germany guys practicing application to the tai chi chuan movement called "boxing the ears." As my student's students had corrected me on my double-weighting of this move, I used this teaching moment to show the principle of "not double-weighting" and to show how even "grandmasters" continue to be students even of beginners. Everyone is my sensei.

This is Gabby Roloff working with Ralph Hodl. Ralph was my host, a great guy and now, a good friend. Gabby Roloff is one of the 7 people to whom Professor Remy Presas designated as inheriters of Modern Arnis with the designation "Master of Tapi Tapi. I was deeply honored to have Gabby at my seminar.

This is Enrico Gassmann, who served as translator. Enrico spent part of his childhood in upstate New York, so his English is great. One interesting thing is that the Swiss speak a very specific dialect called "Swiss-German." As a result, the German students present (a couple of them spoke great English as well) would offer a different translation – one more German-proper. It was like dueling-translators. Very cool and impressive to a mono-glot such as myself.

Gabby Roloff and me. I was so glad to have her at the seminar, that I had this picture taken first thing Saturday morning.

I just returned from Europe. In my last post, I told you a bit about the training in Germany. I then trained people in Switzerland. I was sponsored by Ralph Hodl. Ralph did this as a last-minute favor. Originally, I had been invited by DKI Germany's Gebhard Lamme. But, about a month ago, Gebhard was diagnosed with cancer and had to begin immediate treatments. So, he had to cancel all the seminars he was hosting till fall. Unfortunately, I already had my tickets, etc., and a seminar confirmed in Hanover with Kurt Steube. So, I contacted Ralph to see if we could cobble something together really quickly in Zurich. Ralph did a great job of setting things up, and even served as tour guide, so that we (my wife and I) got to see lots of interesting and beautiful places in Switzerland.

The European karateka seem very good. They are very traditional, and in that sense have solid basics. As a result, many of them easily understood and could do the concepts I was explaining. And here, I don't mean just the pressure points.

People who love martial arts, but who received very poor instruction, will gravitate toward kyusho-jitsu in the hopes of finding something which will cancel out the useless crap they learned. These martial artists often see Kyusho as a kind of stand-alone strategy. But, anyone who has ever trained with me knows that I see kyusho-jitsu as part of an integrated strategy. Fundamentally, I believe in breaking down the opponent's structure and immobilizing him by striking pressure points, dominating the combative space, claiming the advantageous position, trapping the arms and controlling the legs. I try to build redundant elements into my technique so I am not dependent on any one aspect to insure success. This means my approach does not depend on pressure points, or position, or trapping, but uses all these to win. So, as I often say to people who train with me expecting nothing but a pure pressure point lecture, "I also use pressure points!"

Good solid basics – proper stances, a clear understanding of movement, good body alignment – make everything easier and more effective. Whenever someone's stance is wrong, they have trouble doing what I teach. When their body is out of alignment they have trouble doing what I teach. But, when the basic foundation is there, everything comes so much easier.

As I taught in Germany and Switzerland, I was impressed by how many had good form and were able to understand and do what I was teaching. I wish I saw a similar commitment to, and understanding of, basics in the U.S.

I guess what I'm trying to say is,

Thanks for reading,

Now, Go Train (your basics)!

2010-03-15T15:22:00.000-07:00

Greetings from Switzerland! I had a nice seminar in Hanover, Germany, hosted by Kurt Steube. There were 60 people present, some very fine martial artists. I really appreciate the kindness of Kurt, and his wife, Andje. I also appreciate the help of Bern, the translator (who reminds me of Travis P). Bern's training is Anti-terror Kampf (defensive tactics), so at times my karate technical language was too unfamiliar. At those times, a fine Wado-ryu practitioner named Frank Carmichael (a German of Scottish decent, who spoke great English with a Scottish/German accent) would step in to translate. So, thanks Bern and Frank.

Right now we are enjoying Switzerland under the kind guidance of our host Ralph Hodl. Ralph is a very fine Shit0-ryu practitioner. He has arranged for me to teach at a Kyokushin dojo Thursday evening, a Shito-ryu dojo Firday, and a two-day seminar (full to capacity with 30 students) at Ralph's dojo Saturday and Sunday.

Interesting note, here in Europe kyusho training seems to be regarded as 'for seniors only.' In Hanover, it appeared to be only brown and black belts (and a couple of senior kung fu practitioners), and I understand the same will be true here in Switzerland.

Above, I've attached a few photo. Center one is (L-R) translator Bern, Me, Kurt Steube.

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

2010-02-19T14:32:00.000-08:00

A change in plans for my teaching schedule in Europe. I will be teaching as originally planned in Hannover, Germany, March 13-14. But, the following weekend, March 20-21, I will be teaching in Zurich. Attached are the fliers for these seminars. Just click on the above or below image to view full-size. – CT

2010-02-12T20:04:00.000-08:00

Here is the last installment of To the Point. If you print and save all 9 installments you will have a good overview of important principles of kyusho-jitsu. Remember, not all of these were even published (because the magazine went out of business), so this blog is the only place to find them. Click on the image to download the full size image.

So, I always end with "Go train," and I mean it. I enjoyed some good training today with my daughter, working sai-jitsu, empty-hand kata, especially Naihanchi (my favorite, I'd have to say). I even worked on a personal variant of the six count sinawali drill practiced in Modern Arnis (Master of Tapi Tapi Ken Smith – seriously one of the very best of Prof Remy Presas' students and chosen heirs – is a colleague and friend, so I've pick up a bit of stick work along the way). I hope you've had some practice time as well. But, if not, well...

Now go train,

2010-01-26T12:26:00.000-08:00

Here is # 8 in the series of"To the Point" Columns. Enjoy.

Go train (in that order)

Chris Thomas

Upcoming Trainings and Seminars

2010-01-10T18:51:00.000-08:00

Below are fliers for upcoming training opportunities. Just click on the image to pull up the full size image. I hope to see many of you soon. Ok, now, come train – Chris Thomas

2010-01-10T18:49:00.000-08:00

2010-01-10T18:47:00.000-08:00

2010-01-10T18:38:00.000-08:00

2010-01-10T15:49:00.000-08:00

Here is column number 7 (only two more to go). Hope you enjoy.

Now, go train.

Chris Thomas

2009-12-31T15:06:00.000-08:00

When I was writing this series of columns, I knew I was putting forward a pretty comprehensive explanation of pressure point theory. But, since the column only appeared every other month, I figured no one would realize that I was giving away the store. Now, I am putting them all on my blog – one stop shopping. Mmmm, brilliant. Well, I have never been accused of being a good businessman (or any kind of business man, for that matter). Fortunately, it won't be long until they have all made their way into the "older posts" section, the dusty attic of blogging, and they will be forgotten again. In the meantime, they are yours for the reading.

Thanks for reading,

now, go train.

Chris Thomas

2009-12-17T17:49:00.000-08:00

Sorry, everybody, Christmas is especially hectic in my business. Here is another edition of my old "To the Point Column." Remember to click on the image to read it and print it out for your files. And, when your done, go train.

Chris Thomas

2009-12-02T05:09:00.000-08:00

Here is another of my columns. Remember, if you click on the image you can easily read the article, or download it to your computer (on my computer, it's a drag and drop). CT

2009-11-14T07:51:00.000-08:00

Here is the third column from the set.

Thanks for reading,

Now, go train!

Chris Thomas

To the Point

2009-11-10T17:55:00.000-08:00

I am sometimes asked, "How come you aren't a regular columnist for Black Belt or some other magazine?" The answer is that I have to be asked, and the magazine has to survive. From this you might correctly guess that for about two seconds I wrote a regular column. This was back in '02-'03. The column was an every other month piece which appeared in Martial Arts and Combat Sport under the title "George Dillman's To the Point, with Chris Thomas." I wrote 9 columns, but MACS went out of business before they were all published (6 were published). Anyway, I thought you might enjoy them, so I will post them on the blog. Here are the first two.

Enjoy, then

Go Train!

Chris Thomas

Demonic Martial Arts

2009-10-24T13:56:00.000-07:00

There are pastors who study martial arts, but not many who have studied for decades. So, I am among a rare few. (I am happy to say that I belong to that same small group of long-time martial arts practitioners/clergy as Black Belt Hall of Fame member Leo Fong. Rev. Fong is a retired clergy member of the same denomination of which I am a not-yet-retired clergy member.) This is why I am often approached with questions about Christianity and martial arts – usually, the phrase "how do you reconcile..." is used.

Generally, the questioners fall into one of two groups. One group of questioners , having been challenged in their practice by folks with a liberal or Quaker bias, wonders about reconciling martial arts practice with teachings of non-violence. The answer is simple, You can't. If Jesus taught pacifism – the absolute requirement that one never act violently toward another human being – then it is impossible to be a martial artist and be a Christian. Even the mere practice of martial arts (without any intention to actually use the skills learned) would be the cultivation of a violent heart.

But, I am a martial artist of 40 years. Clearly, I am no pacifist. I do not think that Jesus taught pacifism (as an absolute approach to life). And I do believe that sometimes an act of violence is a loving act. For example, if I were to come upon a woman being raped, I would intervene with violence because I would be acting in a loving way toward her. And I would also be acting in a loving way toward the rapist (the person upon whom I would be inflicting the violence) in as much as I am stopping him from committing a heinous sin. Likewise, if someone attacks me, and I defend myself, I am acting lovingly toward myself, and, by thwarting my attacker, I am acting lovingly toward him.

Having said that, I make three cautions. First, to accept a slap and not retaliate is the only sure way to topple an empire. Second, violence is overrated. It usually is the lazy-politicians solution to a problem, and the bully's sure proof of inner weakness. Every true martial artist knows that restraint is far more effective than blows. Third, the only valid use of violence is to stop the violent actions of the violent.

The second group of questioners, having been challenged in their practice by folks with a conservative or fundamentalist bias, wonders about martial arts practice being incompatible with Christian teaching because the martial arts are somehow demonic. To this I would make the simple observation that the measure of true evil is the harm it causes. By this measure there truly is a demonic martial art. It is an art that allows one to kill many people with virtually no effort, no discipline, no training, no practice. It allows great harm to be inflicted on others without ever having to learn control, restraint, or the simple truth of what it feels like to be on the receiving end.

Karate, aikido, tai chi chuan, taekwondo, and the rest do not even come close to fitting this definition. How can we tell? Simple: have you EVER heard of an outcast high schooler killing a dozen classmates with his karate skills? Have you ever heard of a broken-hearted lover killing coeds from atop a clock-tower using his ninja shuriken? Have you ever heard of a disgruntled employee "going postal" with his nunchaku?

You never have, and you never will. But, that disgruntled employee can walk into a gun-shop today, and be killing co-workers tomorrow. Now, I am not anti-gun. But, considering what we know to be true in this country (something like 15,000 gun-deaths per year, and how many "karate killings"? – 0?) it is just nonsense for anyone to hassle a hard working martial artist with accusations that somehow studying a martial art is in anyway akin to worshipping the devil.

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

Chris Thomas

My Approach to Teaching Self Defense

2009-10-18T20:25:00.000-07:00

I was reading a military hand-to-hand (H2H) training manual, and recognized that the program had been influenced by the Filipino martial arts. One chapter covered the 12 angles of attack, showing the angles with knife, then fairly standard Filipino patterns for dealing with knife attacks bare-handed. The next chapter showed the 12 angles of attack with fixed bayonet. Then it showed defenses against those angles. But, here was the problem, the manual showed completely different ways of dealing with the bayonet than the methods for dealing with knife. In other words, they showed twelve angles of attack, and 24 different responses to attacks along those lines. And it got even worse. As I went through the book, I counted some 75 unique techniques. And this was supposed to be the basic military training manual.

Most training programs are developed in a similar fashion. They consist of handfuls of tricks and techniques designed to solve a variety of situations or attacks. So, the usual "basic" self-defense or H2H course consists 20 or so common self-defense scenarios, each with a unique solution. If your attacker does this you, do that; if your attacker does such, you do so. One solution to each scenario. I call this approach Single Scenario Tactical Solutions (SSTS). Of course, the trained martial artist usually has dozens of solutions to any given tactical scenario. That's what competency is all about. However, when training non-martial artists in short term courses for self-defense or unarmed combat, this is a ridiculous approach.

Instead, the approach I advocate is to teach a simple curriculum that handles a variety of scenarios with the one basic skill set. This is called a Multiple Scenario Tactical Solution (MSTS). I teach this concept using a basic, four step action, which is then applied against a wide spectrum of attacks. I teach the basic sequence starting with a simple assault scenario, like a front choke. Then, I teach people to apply this same solution up against a wall, or in a chair, or on the ground. The next step is to apply this simple response against punches, varying grabs, even knife and gun assaults (depending on the group).

The specific curriculum I utilize I call Flux (for Flexible-Application Unarmed Combat Skill). It is easily adapted for a variety of different populations, from civilian to professional applications. And while the different populations require slightly different elements, the over-all concept and underlying principles are the same.

This is such a simple approach that many martial artists have a sense of discomfort when they see it. "Yeah, but what about XYZ techniques?" They wonder. Think of it this way – a maker of fine furniture has many tools which are only used in one single step in the process of making a piece. But, if I have a hammer, a saw, some nails and some lumber, I can make a table. It won't be pretty, but it will hold up my dinner plate. In the same way, as martial artists we have many very elegant ways of dealing with different attacks. But, a woman who takes a self defense class doesn't have the time to learn elegant solutions. She needs a couple of things that will work well-enough to use as her response to whatever comes her way.

And, of course, my simple four-step solutions can't solve every problem. But, I would rather teach something simple that can deal with 25 different problems, than teach 25 solutions which each can only deal with one problem.

Well, thanks for reading.

Now, go train.

Chris Thomas

Anyone Can Beat Anyone

2009-09-26T07:45:00.000-07:00

Years ago, I was lifting my daughter from the floor. She helped by jumping as I lifted, and our combined energy drove her head into mine – head butt. She was fine. I, one the other hand, was staggered. That event (combined with a similar story when my son was an infant and my groin was much younger) led me to understand an important principle of combat: Anyone can beat anyone.

Think about it another way – we have the best trained, best equipped military in the world. The Taliban, on the other hand, are basically medieval tribesman with very modest weaponry (AK-47's, RPG's, IED's). This being the case, we nonetheless hear about regular troop losses. As great as our troops are, they can still be ambushed.

It turns out, there is no such thing as invulnerability. I know that invulnerability is often what we seek when we are beginning our training. We have watched Zatoichi slice his way through dozens of assailants. We have watched Bruce Lee dispatch numerous enemies. And we have watched many a martial arts demo in which the defender dramatically emerges victorious from all kinds of attacks. But all of that is fantasy. The reality is anyone can beat anyone.

I learned a long time ago how difficult this fact is to accept. I taught a 2 week self-defense course in a High School co-ed gym class. When I taught some blunt trauma things, I found that the young men loved it, but the women had trouble relating. When I taught finger locks, everything changed. The young women suddenly felt empowered, and the young men couldn't handle the humiliation of being easily put on the ground by the young women.

Here's how I knew they couldn't handle the humiliation – the teacher told the students that for the first week I was around, they had to participate; but the second week, they could choose between the self-defense training or going to the weight room to pump iron. Inevitably, week two, all the guys fled. Yeah, they couldn't deal.

Those high schoolers were not unusual – accepting the truth of vulnerability is harder for men, because our culture tells us we are supposed to be strong and mighty. If a man is humiliated by an overwhelming force, the question often asked is, why did you allow this to happen? Women are almost always facing an overwhelming force when they are assailed, and so, women are more familiar with the experience of vulnerability. But, even so, when women are victimized they are still often asked, why did you let this happen?

I was with my sensei (George Dillman) recently. As is often the case, he invited participants to demonstrate knock-outs. Among the demonstrators were several children – children, who then knocked out adults. And there it was again – anyone can beat anyone. I train an art that works as well on me as it does on others. I train an art in which I am as vulnerable to a beginner as that beginner is to me. I train an art in which I have experienced over and over the ease with which I can be defeated, and the ease with which I can defeat others. And this has changed how I approach things.

I used to adopt a strong kamae, an en garde position with fists held protectively and body positioned against attack. Now, I adopt an open, welcoming posture, as if I want to give a hug. I do not push the attack away, I invite it in. I accept that the attack comes; I accept that I will be injured; I accept that I can be defeated. And accepting these things empowers me to act without fear, without worrying about the bad stuff that might happen, but rather, to focus on the simple task of fighting back.

I will write on this stuff more in the future, on the concepts of "rescripting" and "welcoming" but I wanted to start here – I wanted you to understand that I begin, not from a posture of strength or one of defensiveness, but from a place of acceptance.

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

Chris Thomas

Dancing with the Dark Side

2009-09-15T11:58:00.000-07:00

Let me continue a bit on the discussion of my last post:

I had an interesting conversation with a member of my group (Kyusho-jitsu Kenkyukai, KJK for short). He was telling me about how troubling an experience it is when you realize that you have both the skills to take a life, and the will necessary to employ those skills. It is the moment when you become the kind of person who is actually capable of killing.

Most of us start martial arts training because of a fantasy about martial arts. We imagine we are going to learn what the movie ratings people call "stylized violence." Stylized violence is noble, fair, cool, exciting, even fun. Real violence is messy and brutal. At some point, the true martial artist must come to grips with this messy, brutal reality. I call this "dancing with the dark side."

In order to be true martial artists, we must accept violence, accept that we are studying methods whose purpose is ultimately the harm of other human beings, accept that we have the capacity to cause such harm.

This applies even to our training. To do a pressure point knock out, one has to accept that – safe as they are to perform – our training partners might be injured. And, when we practice the more dangerous techniques (toate-no-waza being among the more dangerous) we have to accept that someone might be hurt, and be willing for our training partners to suffer harm at our hands.

This is a difficult step in the development of a martial artist. It involves finding a way to accept violence, finding the capacity to commit violence, finding the willingness to act violently, and finding the ability to control that violence. It means learning how to resolve the warrior's contradiction – to be able to kill when necessary without becoming a mere killer, to be able to cause injury to others while maintaining the strength of character to never cause such injury unless it is absolutely necessary and right. It is brutal power coupled with moral control, and it is a difficult task to master.

Now, most people who practice a martial art never face this challenge. They practice their fantasy of stylized violence, imagining confrontations which result in winning without any harm, and without feelings of sorrow, or regret on their part. They imagine victory without cost, victory which results in everyone becoming friends and drinking tea together. And maybe that is fine for them, but I practice a classical art – tode-jitsu – an art which is about the reality of conflict and the desire to somehow survive such a reality with one's life and character intact. I practice an art which is, at its heart, about dancing with the dark side.

Thanks for reading.

Now, go train!

Christ Thomas

It Helps to Not Give a Sh*t

2009-09-07T06:28:00.000-07:00

Back in 1997, DKI member and physician Chaz Terry helped set up a small investigatory study of pressure point techniques which was conducted at University of Pennsylvania Hospital in Philadelphia. My account was published in Black Belt Magazine (click here to read the article) and as a chapter of Humane Pressure Point Self-Defense. I was present for the sole purpose of recording and writing about the event. So, I did not participate directly in the process. But, I had the best seat in the house.

The room was cold, lit with fluorescents and generally "institutional". Each subject to be knocked out was wired up with electrodes to monitor such things as brain waves, heart rhythms, blood pressure, and so on. This took 20 minutes. Then the subject would stand on a wrestling mat (a safety precaution) while "pre-strike" data was gathered. Cameras were synced to medical monitoring devices and time was spent waiting for everything to be ready. Then, the person who was performing the strike was told to proceed, but, oh, not too forcefully because we don't want to dislodge any wires, and be careful not to cause too much movement because that creates artifact, now go ahead and knock him out.

This was an incredibly stressful setting in which to do anything. Those doing the striking were out of their element, anxious, being asked to think about more than just the technique itself. Not surprisingly, many had some difficulty with their techniques. When this would happen, when the simple craziness of the setting got in the way, and someone would fail in performing an effective knock out, George Dillman would say, "Ed, you do it."

"Ed" is my colleague Ed Lake. And Ed would do it. He would walk up and "bam" the subject would hit the ground.

At one point, Dillman-sensei was speaking to one of those struggling to get the knock out to work. "Do it like Ed!" He said. "But, Ed doesn't give a sh*t!" came the reply.

This is an important observation. When striking a pressure point, it can be our own anxieties and concerns which keep the technique from working. We hinder our energy from flowing. We worry that we won't be able to succeed, so we don't. We worry that our uke (the person who receives our knock out technique) will be injured, so we fail. We strike too hard, or not hard enough, while holding back our intent, our energy, because of all our concerns, all our fears, all our issues of ego and morality, all of our thoughts about "what if it doesn't work" and "what if it does."

It helps to "not give a sh*t." It helps to have clarity of intent – action without concern for all of the possible, undesired outcomes. Such an attitude increases the possibility of success because there is nothing to hold one back from success.

Of course, my problem is that I do "give a sh*t." All sorts of concerns, fears, worries, etc., plague my thoughts, and clamor for my attention. And I become, worried, fearful, anxious, ego-invested and the like. I become weighed down with the detritus of my own emotional baggage, and divide from singularity of purpose by a cacophony of mental chattering.

Of course, it is easy to say, "Do it like Ed!" It is easy to tell myself that I shouldn't be distracted by inner conflict, shouldn't be bogged down with useless concerns, shouldn't give a sh*t. Yeah, easy to tell myself, but it doesn't make a bit of difference. All the useless stuff is still there. Instead, I have to make it irrelevant. So, I have taken tactical approach.

Anyone who trains with me will often hear me talk about redundancy. The idea of redundancy is this, "If you screw up your technique, it should still work pretty good." This is why I seem to put pressure points at the end of the line. I believe the pressure points are incredibly important – I want to guarantee that things will always work.

Imagine it like this: Someone grabs me and I begin my defense. In that slow motion of crisis, the thought goes through my mind, "Gee, I hope this works." Suddenly, I am invested in a particular outcome and I give a sh*t. "What if a miss the pressure point? What if I don't hit with enough energy? What if I hit too hard? What i he is resistant on that point and I should have aimed for another?" Suddenly, in that moment, the fear and anxiety hit. My chi and my anal sphincter pucker and withdraw – and I have defeated myself. But, if my technique is sound, if it is redundant, certain to work well even if I screw it up, then I think, "Doesn't matter, even if I miss the point, or it doesn't work right, I still get to hit him, and I still have the advantageous position, and I still have superior control, so it will be fine." And suddenly, I don't give a sh*t anymore, because I have created the circumstances under which I am guaranteed a satisfying outcome. The result? I relax and my chi flows, and my technique works great.

If you want to read more about redundancy, you can read another article of mine in Black Betl (click here).

Now, go train.

Chris Thomas

Nunti-Bo

2009-08-28T07:32:00.001-07:00

In Isshin-ryu we have three bo (long staff) kata. About 20 years ago I was pondering a particular characteristic of one of them. Let me see if I can explain this for you – If you marked one of a bo “right”, the other end “left”, and held it so that you had the “right” half in your right hand and the “left” half in your left hand, you could do two of the kata (Tokumine-no-kun & Urashi-no-kun) and your hands would stay on the proper side. In other words, these kata treat both ends of the bo as equal – when left side is forward, the “left” side of the bo is forward, and vice versa. This is what is known as “double end staff.”

However, in our third kata, called Shishi-no-kun-dai, it is different. This time, mark one end as “front” and the other as “back.” If you were to start the kata so that your right hand is on the front half of the weapon, you would find that whenever the right side is forward, the “front” is in the right hand, and whenever left side is forward the “front” is in the left hand. This means that, in Shishi-no-kun-dai, one end of the bo is clearly the front and the other the back.

So, I was pondering this, and I asked myself, “What’s special about the front end? Maybe that end is different somehow? What weapons are different on one end?” I considered the usual suspects, spear (yari), halberd (naginata), etc. But, among the uniquely Okinawan weapons, the one that stands out is called nunti-bo.

Nunti-bo is basically a bo with a sai on the end. But, the sai is a particular type of sai called nunti-sai, or manji-sai, which has a hook on one side, and a tine on the other. Attach it to the end of a bo, and you have a nunti bo. There has never been much material on the use of nunti-bo, but the few examples I have seen treat the weapon like a bo, with the extra benefit that the tine is used to catch an incoming strike in order to redirect an attack.

Anyway, there I was, those twenty or so years ago, performing Shishi-no-kun-dai, and imagining my bo was a nunti-bo. What happened was thrilling and terrifying. Instantly, all the movements of the kata made devastating sense; and instantly, I saw that nunti-bo was used in a manner which looked nothing like what people showed. And I became actually sick to my stomach. I was so accustomed to the “coolness” of martial arts, that I was unprepared for the brutal cruelty of weapon-based combat which the kata Shishi-no-kun-dai disclosed. Weapons work is for maiming and killing, pure and simple.

It took a few days for me to recover from the sense of revulsion I experienced, so that I could try my little thought experiment again (with the same results, the kata made absolute sense). So, I purchased a nunti-bo, and started practicing Shishi-no-kun-dai. With my imagination replaced by the actual implement, the kata revealed subtleties of handling that I hadn’t realized by visualization alone.

From that day on, I have practiced Shishi-no-kun-dai with nunti-bo. I have also come to recognize the occasional nunti-bo-specific movements in other bo forms. What has become evident to me is the historical function of these kata.

In feudal societies, there was minimal civilian law enforcement. Individual villages needed the ability to call up militia to deal with marauders and other threats. So, villages had traditional “war dances.” These contained the fundamentals of long-weapons fighting. (By the way, these local dances still exist today – brought out at festival times and performed for crowds, and, of course, they exist as kata practiced in the martial arts.)

So, most “bo” forms are actually “generic long-weapons forms.” And, because the staff is the most common tool available, most of the movements in these long-weapons forms are for the staff. But, villagers had other potential weapons, such as oars, hoes, rakes, etc., so, the forms also had to contain movements which applied to these implements. Once you become familiar with these weapons, you can recognize the specific techniques which don’t work well with the bo, but which are very effective with something else.

If a village had only one kata, it would follow the pattern described. But, if there was more than one kata from that village, the second form was likely to be specific to some other weapon. Knowledge of this second form might be limited to the person who was responsible for transmitting the village bo form to each generation (the village martial arts expert). This individual might also be the only person in the village who possessed a weapon which was actually a weapon, as opposed to a tool utilized for fighting. And, finally, this person might be the local constable. (Like the Japanese jutte, the sai and the nunti-bo functioned as law enforcement weapons and as symbols of legal authority – sai was both side-arm and badge.)

Shishi-no-kun-dai is such a number two kata. The number one kata is Shishi-no-kun-sho, a generic long-weapon kata, with characteristic double-end bo techniques. Shishi-no-kun-dai, the number two kata, is 100% nunti-bo.

So, for 20 years I have practiced Shishi-no-kun-dai as “Shishi-no-nunti-bo”, always with nunti-bo, instead of staff. As different Isshin-ryu practitioners come to train with me, I have the occasion to show this material to them. The shock of recognition flashes across their faces, and many of them (ok, most of them) purchase nunti-bo for their own training.

With Shishi-no-kun-dai as my nunti-bo teacher, I have learned that, contrary to the usual demonstration of the nunti-bo (as a tool for catching an incoming attack in the tine), it is actually not about the use of the tine much at all (though, there is a nifty sword disarm that is only possible because of the tine, and some clothing entanglement that depends on the tine). Predominantly, nunti-bo is about using the hook.

In a nutshell, the to use nunti-bo is to strike with the wooden portion of the weapon, just behind the metal manji-sai attachment, then pull hard so that the hook pulls into and tears flesh (gross, huh?). One of the most basic nunti-bo movements is downward angle strike (called kesa-uchi or uchi otoshi), pull, then thrust. The strike is aimed at the neck area, the pull digs the hook into the trapezius muscle and brachial plexus, the thrust frees the weapon from the opponent’s body. However, if the opponent blocks the strike, the pull hooks his weapon and pulls him forward, into an oncoming thrust.

That is just one example. But, if you pick up a nunti-bo, and think about the hook, you will see just how devastating a weapon it is. Better yet, learn Shishi-no-kun-dai and let it become your teacher.

Thanks for reading,

Now, go train!

Chris Thomas

2009-08-23T11:33:00.000-07:00

Chris Thomas

shotokan - download free pdf

Source: scribd.com

An article of mine which was published in Shotokan Karate Magazine, in July, 2004

It's Not a Block (and never was)

2009-08-21T10:03:00.001-07:00

I recently was explaining our concepts to a man who had been training at a local martial arts school. It was almost as if the last 20 years never happened – as if the martial arts community had never heard of any of the things we teach. So, let me give you a way to explain and talk about one of the most basic aspects of our teaching – it's not a block!

In the usual training programs, there are a set of movements called "blocks." These are up block, inside block, outside block, down block, and knife hand block. Let's consider outside block (though, what I will say, applies to all of the blocks).

Outside block consists of two actions. In the first action, the front hand moves across the body at about hip level. This is sometimes referred to as the set position. Then the front hand moves outward to the side. This action is considered the block proper, and is taught as a way of knocking a punch passed the body.

Now, our premise is simple – this is not a block, and cannot be used as a block. Here's how you can tell. Listen to the sound of a punch (fump). Now, listen to the sound a an outside block (fa-fump). If you think of this in musical terms, in terms of rhythm, a punch has one beat, an outside block has two beats. Now, considering that the act of blocking is a response to an attack, reaction time is also a factor, an added beat. In essence, then, using an outside block to block a punch means that you are using a two beat action (three beats if you consider reaction time) to defend against a one-beat attack. This means that you have to be more than twice as fast as your opponent. And that means that only the youngest, fastest, strongest can ever hope to use their karate. And that means that karate is all but useless for anyone else.

Now, let's imagine that somehow I manage to use outside block to block a punch – What have I accomplished? Nothing. At best I have reset the encounter to the beginning. What happens next depends on who is faster. If the attacker is faster with his follow-up, I lose; if I am faster with my counter-attack, I win. But this means that the stronger, faster one wins, and that means that I can only use my karate if I am the better athlete in the encounter.

However, it turns out that outside block isn't "outside block" at all. In Japanese it is called chudan yoko uke. Uke doesn't mean "to block", it means "to receive". It is a way of dealing with an attack, to be sure. But, it is not a block. In fact, it has actually been painful for me to call these things blocks in what I have written so far. I always use the term "counter" as the English meaning of uke. I say, up counter, or down counter, but never block. Block is a banned word in my martial art.

The typical application for chudan yoko uke, is to use the movement of the"set" (the first-beat of the technique which corresponds to the one-beat of the punch) to actually strike the incoming arm. The outward movement is then a strike, typically to a vulnerable target on the head.

I have been following this concept for many years now. The longer I practice these techniques in the manner they were intended, the more I realize how genuinely intelligent and effective they are as fighting techniques. But this understanding comes only from realizing THEY'RE NOT BLOCKS!

Thanks for reading,

Now, go train.

Chris Thomas

No Masters Here

2009-08-14T07:57:00.000-07:00

A Buddhist friend showed me a video featuring some Tibetan yogis. These were people whom she greatly admired (some were her teachers). She saw masters, I saw ordinary men. In one of the old video-tapes sold by Taika Oyata, the voice over narration says, "Only master Oyata can properly interpret the kata." Clearly, these folks look at Oyata-sensei and see "the master." I just see a man. Now, those yogis were skillful and knowledgeable and well qualified to be teachers. And Oyata-sensei is skillful and knowledgeable and well qualified to be a teacher. And my friend is fortunate to have such teachers as those I saw. And Oyata's students are fortunate to have such a teacher as Oyata. But, the yogis and Oyata-sensei are not special, unique, elevated, superior beings. They are ordinary men who were fortunate to have good teachers, and who put in the time and the effort to become skillful, and then the additional time and effort required to become truly exemplary. But, they are still ordinary men.

I am an ordinary man. My teachers have been ordinary men and women. My dojo mates have been ordinary men and women. My students have been ordinary men and women. Each of us has mastered some aspect of living life. Each of us has become accomplished at something – accomplished and maybe even extraordinary. So, why should anyone think of me as "master", much less "grandmaster." I consider myself to be an average martial artist. And maybe it's just that I am average for someone who has trained for 40 years, but that doesn't make me special, just devoted.

My point is this, I am no Master – I don't even know what that word means. I know myself to be completely ordinary. Of course, some of you might think I am being all "gosh, shucks" humble here, but that is not true. Believe me, I have a plenty big ego. Other's might be reminded of the old saying, "No one is a master who thinks he is," and conclude that saying I am not a master somehow proves that I really am. I know the truth – ordinary.

So, why am I the guy people come to train with? It is because I was lucky enough to have good teachers, and having good teachers makes a huge difference. I have students (truly, they are really my teachers) who are much better martial artists than I am. They are more dedicated, train harder, have a more intense passion than I. Yet, I'm the guy helping them for the simple reason that they learned incorrect material. What would they be like if they were lucky enough to learn correctly from the start (look at my Yondan son or my Shodan daughter and you'll have a pretty good idea). And how quickly they are becoming better than me as they discard improper teaching for proper teaching.

So, it only seem to you that I am great if you learned poorly. But, once you know the martial arts properly, you see how ordinary I am. As my friend Dusty Seale and I like to joke, "It's not that we're great, it's that everyone else really sucks." And they suck because they have had poor teachers.

There is one more thing that makes a difference, too. If you believe that only Taika Oyata can properly interpret the kata, then you will never be able to interpret kata. If you believe that the yogi are special "fully realized beings", then you can never attain anything. But, when you realize that they are ordinary, then there is no reason (if you have the desire) why you can't also be great.

Now, go train,

Chris Thomas

Old Karate

2009-08-11T09:13:00.000-07:00

I prefer "old karate." I mean this in three different ways.

When I first used the phrase, I had been training for about ten years. At that point I noticed that my movements felt familiar, well worn, broke in, "old" like that most comfortable pair of jeans, or like my battered fedora. This was muscle memory. Technique had become written onto the very fibers of my body. My nerves knew punching, kicking, moving, without any help from my brain. I remember thinking, at the time, how my karate had become old. It was an odd experience, because I found that karate was, well, soothing, to me. I found a relaxation from things like punching the makiwara (or a tree, or a wall, or...). And simply throwing kicks and practicing movement calmed me. It became my drug of choice. It was like an aged cheese, filled with flavor notes and complexity (Cheese? remember, I live in Wiscsonsin).

Secondly, I prefer "old karate" in the sense of the old ways (kodo or koryu). At first, I was drawn to the old karate by a kind of historian's interest. What did it look like originally? Are there more ancient (and more authentic) ways of doing some certain kata. I threw myself into a study of such things, hoping to discover, or learn, or reconstruct an earlier version of what I knew. Of course, I didn't have much access to historical sources. And I have to admit that I am glad. There are those who went off to Okinawa and sought out the oldest teachers and tried to find the oldest versions of kata. In this, they made great contributions to our understanding of the historical development of karate, and I am grateful to them. But, it seems to me that they also made a fundamental error – they assumed that, finding the oldest version of a kata would somehow make them wise.

I made the same error. At one point I was trying to learn as many kata and as many versions as I could. I was practicing 50 or 60 forms, and always looking to learn another "authentic" kata. Suddenly, one day, while trying to learn another such form, I realized that there was nothing there which wasn't also present in multiple other forms I already knew. And I began to suspect that there was no secret form which would provide the key to martial wisdom. When I met George Dillman, I realized why. Because I didn't understand what I was doing, the forms had nothing to teach. But, once I knew the function of form, rather than the form of form, I found I had too many kata. I stopped doing many of them, and still have too many for my own self (I need them for teaching and stylistic purposes).

So, "old karate" is not about which form one does, or how the moves are executed. It is about how the form is interpreted. It is about reclaiming original intent (which is the actual practical use of movement) and not some original pattern of movement. Sometimes, when I am talking about this meaning of "old karate" I use the term "classical" as opposed to "traditional." The traditionalist seeks to mimic the style's movements – the classicalist seeks to apply the style's concepts.

And finally, I prefer "old karate" in the sense that I am old. I am 52, and I have been studying karate since I was 12. My kicks are still pretty snappy, but when I was in my prime, my kicks were so fast that you couldn't see my foot (seriously). My stances are structurally better than when I was younger, but my legs are weaker, stiffer, creakier. So, I have to do a karate which works in two ways. First, it has to be something that I can do as an increasingly older man. And second, it needs to work effectively as a self defense method for an increasingly older man.

Hohan Soken told George Dillman (who, at the time was in his 30's) to "exercise today, the same way you will when you are 80." I think he was speaking of more than running and doing push-ups. I think he meant the entirety of karate training – train today, and always, doing what an aging and aged martial artist will continue to be able to do and apply effectively. So, I try to follow that advice, and in that way, I practice "old karate."

I prefer "old karate." It is the product of long years, it is simple, yet it has depth. It is not fancy or flashy, but, it continues to satisfy after all this time, and I see no reason for that to change.

Thanks for reading, now, go age your cheese (in other words, "Now, go train").

Chris Thomas

If You Don't Want to Teach Me, at Least Don't Mislead Me

2009-08-03T12:27:00.000-07:00

Since I had originally trained in the Shotokan style, I decided to attend a seminar by Shotokan master Hirokazu Kanazawa. During the seminar, Kanazawa-sensei reviewed several kata; at one point during the discussion of a particular technique from the kata Jion, a black belt raised his hand and asked, “Sensei, could that move be a strike to the head?” At that moment I became somewhat hopeful. The question showed that this student was troubled by the woefully inadequate explanations for kata movements that he had been given over the years. It also showed that he was thinking and looking for knowledge. And, it was a pretty good question (as opposed to the usual, “What’s this move for?”). Perhaps he would be rewarded with a good answer.

“No,” Kanazawa answered. “It’s a block.” My heart sank as he then proceeded to demonstrate an obviously unrealistic and useless application of the movement. When he was finished, the questioner responded with a hearty and grateful, “Hai! Thank you, sensei.”

I shared this little episode via e-mail with a Shotokan practitioner in England. He responded by telling me that the only time he had seen Kanazawa demonstrate any “half decent” (his words) applications of kata movements was when he sneaked a peak during a private conversation Kanazawa-sensei was holding with Kato-sensei. This begs the question then, if the oriental instructors have better knowledge than they have shown us, why haven’t they shown it.

The area of pressure point knowledge is a good example of this very phenomenon. One of the truly great masters of the 20th century was Shogo Kuniba, the head of the Seishinkai karate organization. Kuniba-sensei loved to teach karate in the United States because his American students gave him permission to experiment and innovate (whereas, in Japan, he was expected to simply fulfill the role of soke/inheritor of his father’s karate style). As he was dying of cancer, Kuniba assigned the leadership of the karate organization in Japan to his sons, but he designated an American, sensei William Price, to inherit his own innovated karate system. According to Price, in the last few months of his life, Kuniba-sensei began to share information about pressure point techniques. Price says that Kuniba expressed regret that he had withheld the knowledge for so long, and that there was no longer enough time to fully divulge this aspect of karate to his heir.

Mike LaMonica is perhaps the western world’s most senior exponent of Hakko-ryu jujitsu, directly under the the system’s founder, the late Ryuho Okuyama, who awarded him the license of Menkyo-Kaiden. LaMonica-sensei and I only met in person once (at a baptism), but I did have occasion to talk with him on the phone. Our conversation was about the use of pressure points as part of the performance of Hakko-ryu kihon waza (the basic techniques of the system). As we talked pressure point specifics, LaMonica’s litany became, “Yes, but we don’t teach that until 5th dan.”

A similar comment is made by aikido exponent Morihiro Saito. Saito-sensei has stated (apparently quoting the teachings of aikido founder Ueshiba) that atemi, or the attacking of vital points, is essential for better than 90% of aikido technique to be successfully applied; yet, this portion of the art is not taught prior to 5th dan (achieved after about 20 years of training!) ostensibly so that students can concentrate on other aspects of the training. It seems odd that the very element that is required for the successful execution of aikido techniques is intentionally left out of student’s practice.

A friend provided me with a video taped seminar taught by Taika Oyata. Oyata-sensei was the first to demonstrate pressure point techniques in a public manner. He often demonstrated pressure point knock-outs and listed kyusho-jitsu (pressure point fighting) as a part of his curriculum. In the video, Oyata-sensei was teaching a small group of eager students (one of whom – I was surprised to see – was an old dojo-mate of mine from back in the 70’s). At one point, Oyata began to lecture on a knock-out technique. He slowly and deliberately demonstrated the technique so that everyone attending could follow. The students watched intently and imitated his movements (heck, I was imitating the movement as I watched the tape). Then suddenly, and without prior notice, Oyata knocked out the student he was using as uke.

The students in the seminar were all delighted to see this technique so convincingly proven. I, on the other hand, had a different reaction. Being a pressure point practitioner, I realized immediately that the technique Oyata-sensei had actually used to knock out the student was not the one he had been teaching. (And just to be sure, I backed up the video and watched it again in slow motion.) He had been pointedly misleading those students! (By the way, the technique is revealed at the end of the book TUITÉ: Advanced Pressure Point Grappling, which I co-authored with my teacher George Dillman.)

Pressure point expert George Dillman trained under Oyata-sensei in the early 80’s (and received 7th dan from Oyata). It was Oyata who taught him the fundamentals of kyusho-jitsu which formed the basis for Dillman’s own research and study. Clearly, Oyata-sensei had shared accurate information with Dillman, yet, Dillman himself says that he often saw Oyata teach wrong information in seminars.

Now, I must be careful here lest I seem to be criticizing Oyata-sensei. If it were not for his willingness to share knowledge about pressure point methods, this information would still be the subject of myth and fantasy. And, I don’t want to judge another person’s decision to withhold information from unproven students, since I myself have certain techniques that I simply will not teach anyone who is not at least a black belt and a person I have some measure of confidence and trust in. And there are also cultural realities. Instructors like Kanazawa-sensei, and Oyata-sensei probably feel that access to their knowledge must be earned through years of devoted, unquestioning, adherence. Ok, I get that, but there is a clear difference between withholding some information, and intentionally mis-teaching. It is not just that Kanazawa saves the decent application for private conversation, it is that he teaches bad application to the faithful, who accept it with a hearty thank you. It is not that Oyata holds back information, it is that he presents wrong information. I am not Japanese! So, understanding this from a cultural perspective doesn’t mean that it I am not offended to be treated this way. Withhold information, if you must, but at least don’t send me chasing my tail.

George Dillman is the exact opposite as an instructor. I have, many times, had him show me some secret technique, insisting I tell no one, only to have him tell me a few weeks later how he just taught that “secret” to 100 people at the latest seminar. I came to understand that he was not actually sharing secrets that I was to keep, he was giving me a head start on the the things he was working on and planning to introduce to others. And this is part of the reason why the DKI (Dillman Karate International) instructors are so knowledgeable and skilled. As one astonished newcomer said to me, “I figured Dillman could to do it; I never thought all his people could, too.” And this is why there are competing organizations out there, teaching and presenting pressure point knowledge (they learned it by being part of the DKI, where knowledge is freely shared).

It turns out that, when knowledge is held back, it is lost. Just as Kuniba-sensei was not able to pass on all he knew in the short time he had between his diagnosis and his passing, so knowledge has been lost across the ages. But, when knowledge is shared openly, then it not only endures, it prospers. Because Dillman would share everything he knew, his students were able to explore new areas of practice. They then shared that, and we all got better. I believe we actually understand pressure point fighting methods better now, than at any point in the last century. And this is not because we are great masters. We just are generous in our teaching and sharing. In this we are simply following George Dillman’s example (who, in fairness, was following Professor Wally Jay’s example), and the result is magnificent.

So, share what you learn, and we will all become better.

Thanks for reading. Now, go train.

Chris Thomas

Self-Defense Rescripted

2009-07-24T10:00:00.000-07:00

Last night we recorded a new video. This is an updated version of my already successful Self-Defense Made Ridiculously Easy. We were able to make two significant improvements. First, I have updated the conceptual material, the way in which we talk about what we do. Instantly, it becomes clear how the principles of self-defense transfer into principles of successful living. And, second, the quality – oh my, the quality. We shot in a studio with HD cameras. This means the image on the DVD will be crystal clear, and we will be able to offer an HD version, and maybe also down-loadable versions..

I am really grateful for the people who helped, April Taylor, Chris Martingilio, Barb Baran and Steve Schriener, because they did such a great job, and also for a nice group of folks who came and acted as "studio audience" So the video would have a nice "live" seminar feel.

Now, please be patient. It will take some time to edit this together because I want it to be really great. In the old days, I just set up a camera and taught, then called it a video. Later, when I started using a lapel mike, I thought I was really doing well. But, if you've seen the most recent of my DVD's, you know that I have been investing the time and expense to produce good quality material. Brandyn and Paul, from Requisite Video Productions have been great partners in this. Their professionalism and knowledge has really encouraged me to embrace quality of presentation to enhance quality of content.

So, be patient. I'll let you know when this is done.

Now, go train.

Chris Thomas

Tai Chi Is Just Ordinary Boxing

2009-07-14T11:43:00.001-07:00

In the early 80's, I wrote some articles about tai chi. After one of them, a letter to the editor from a tai chi master criticized me for treating tai chi as if it was "ordinary boxing." Since the editor of Inside Kung Fu assured me that the the letter-writer was a respected expert (and he had a Chinese name, which certainly implied legitimacy) I concluded that I didn't really understand tai chi. After that, I no longer wrote about tai chi, and concentrated solely on discussing karate. However, I continued practicing tai chi.

After years of practice, I began asking pragmatic questions about tai chi. I started asking, "How can this actually be used." And I began to notice that the knowledge I was acquiring in my other areas of training, appeared directly relevant to my tai chi practice. In particular, when I applied the art of pressure point fighting (called dim mak or kyusho-jitsu), it revealed the deep knowledge which underlies and informs tai chi. Consider this, one of tai chi chuan's fundamental principles is "move 1000 pounds with 4 ounces of force." Most tai chi practitioners seek to do this through the process of yielding, drawing, unbalancing, uprooting. But, a light tap to a pressure point will accomplish the same thing. In fact, pressure point fighting is the very definition of "move 1000 pounds with 4 ounces of force."

So, I started doing my tai chi based on my knowledge of dim mak. And my tai chi changed, it became more alive, more real, more firm, more full, and more satisfying. I went from waving my arms to actual training. And, visualizing actual use for the movements as I performed them enabled me to move my chi in ways that I had never been able to do by just thinking about my chi.

I also came to understand something else – I found that my karate spoke to my tai chi, and my tai chi spoke to my karate, until I saw that they are, at the heart, the same. Tai chi, it turns out, is just ordinary boxing – so is karate. But, when done with understanding and knowledge ordinary boxing is extraordinary!

If you want to see how I do my tai chi, you can check out my Practical Tai chi chuan DVD, or find my article "Practical Taijiquan" in Inside Kung Fu, March, 2007.

Now, go train.

Chris Thomas

You Kung Fu Guys Are Too Tense, You Need To Relax

2009-07-06T07:12:00.000-07:00

I practice karate (Ryukyu kempo and Isshin-ryu) and tai chi chuan. Most people think of me as a karate guy. So, I find it amazingly entertaining to be teaching kung fu practitioners. You may not know this, but, the usual criticism of karate practitioners by kung fu practitioners, is that karate practitioners are too stiff. So, I am so entertained when I teach kung fu guys, because what I usually tell them is, "You're too tense. Relax."

Reading this, you are probably thinking that I learned how to relax from doing tai chi, but, that is not true. In tai chi I learned the wrong lesson - how to be limp (thanks go out to Sifu Richard Mooney who pointed out to me that tai chi is not supposed to be limp, it is supposed to firm and full). I learned to relax from doing karate. Then, I applied that knowledge to my tai chi.

Relaxation is a product of proper body alignment. When the body is positioned properly, it can relax and move naturally. Improper alignment leads to tension and stiffness. Let me give you a specific example. In karate, we chamber the fist at the hip, elbow tucked, armpit closed, arm hugged close. In comparison, I have seen many kung fu practitioners (especially Hung gar stylists) with the fists held floating over the hip. Because it is floating, the muscles of the shoulder must be engaged to keep the fist in place. The result is that the shoulders tense up. If the shoulders tense up, the entire upper body tenses up, and the center of gravity rises from the dantien (tanden, hara, lower abdomen) up into the chest. This destroys the root, the connection to the ground, and causes the upper body too lean and tense up even more.

In contrast, the karate chamber is against the body. A gentle squeeze of the armpit is all that is necessary to hold the fist in place. The shoulder muscles are not engaged at all, so the shoulders remain relaxed and sunk. The center of gravity remains in the dantien, and the entire body is aligned and relaxed. In fact, done properly, karate is the laziest art I know.

Now, in fairness to kung fu practitioners, most karate practitioners I know are also too tense. It is not really kung fu verses karate, it is really proper training in body alignment verses poor training. In fact, I would argue that the first lesson is not how to relax, but how to stand and move. Once the standing and moving is correct, relaxation follows naturally.

So, what is the best way to learn this? Well, it helps to have a really good teacher (but that can actually be a challenge). But, your own body is the best teacher of all. Simply pay very close attention. Does a movement feel easy or difficult, comfortable or strained? Do your movements feel as if they fall within a comfortable range of motion, or do they stretch and reach too far? Do your joints feel stressed, are they aligned? Are your shoulders down and relaxed, or are they raised and tight? So, listen to your body, learn how to move in relaxed and effortless ways. It's in you already if you listen.

Thanks for reading, now, go train,

Chris Thomas

The Gift I Received from George Dillman

2009-06-29T07:51:00.000-07:00

For some years before I met George Dillman, I had been trying to do interpretation of kata. I knew these movements must have some pragmatic and functional use, and that the practice of the old forms must hold deep value. I felt this for a logical reason (this practice couldn't have survived without a practical value), and for an emotional reason (I had invested lots of time in the study of kata). So, I was already looking at forms and doing bunkai (interpretation). Some of my bunkai were actually pretty good. But (and it was a big but) without having the understanding of pressure point fighting, I was lacking the tactical tools which insured that my bunkai actually would work.

So, I will be forever grateful to sensei Dillman for giving me that great gift. And yet, there is an even greater gift he gave me. He gave me permission – permission to stop doing what doesn't work, no matter who told me to do it in the first place.

Because martial arts are taught in very hierarchical environments, we become accustomed to being humble disciples who submit ourselves blindly to our masters' instructions. We become true believers, adherents, assuming, but never confirming, that our teachers are wise and correct in all things.

Because of this fact, when I first started doing bunkai, I was also doing all the useless things I had been taught. If I was told a move was for blocking some certain attack (even if that was clearly a horrible explanation), I practiced it that way, while I tried to find other meanings. And, if I found a better interpretation, I kept on practicing whatever I had been previously taught – adding a better interpretation to a growing repetoire, rather than replacing a useless interpretation entirely. It was exhausting to devote precious time to useless practice, and try to hold a justification for those practices in my brain.

Now, thanks to the permission I received from sensei Dillman, I only do what works. And I take that principle to an extreme. I want to do techniques that any green belt could do, techniques that follow pressure point theory exactly, techniques that still work pretty well even if I screw up and miss every pressure point I am aiming for. I refer to this concept as "ordinary skill, extraordinary results." (Obviously, in a blog, I can only name this concept. But, if you want to get a fuller idea of what I mean, check out my double impact dvd.)

If I can, I want to give you permission as well. I give you permission to stop doing what doesn't work. I give you permission to stop doing what your teacher taught you, if it doesn't work (and if it works for him, he has permission to continue doing it). I give you permission to stop doing what doesn't work even if the founder of the system taught it. I give you permission to stop doing what doesn't work, and spend all your time on what truly does work.

You have permission,
now, go train.

Chris Thomas

Helping the Homeless

2009-06-19T11:42:00.000-07:00

I am not a martial arts school owner, and martial arts is not my primary profession. I am a member of the clergy and the pastor of a church. As part of my professional life, I serve on the board of a homeless shelter. Our shelter is 2 years old. It is currently only set up as a 30 day rescue shelter for women and families. This has two implications. The first is that men are rarely able to stay at the shelter. The second problem is that 30 days is rarely enough time for someone to move from homelessness to housing.

As a result, my church is looking at purchasing an old motel. Then, we hope to remodel it, move the homeless shelter into the motel, so the shelter can expand services in order to provide both emergency rescue shelter and two year transitional living. Now, this all costs money. I am hoping we will be able to buy the motel for a mere $50,000 (which would be 20 cents on the dollar). But, first, we have to raise the $50k. So, I am taking a first personal step. During this summer, I will be selling copies of my newest book, "Effortless Self-Defense for Women" (written with Kimberly Foreman Dillman) and teaching seminars with all the tuition going to work to help the homeless.

The first of these seminars is scheduled for Friday, June 26, in the Milwaukee, WI, area. (View PDF @ Scribd) I hope to hold a seminar on weapons in the Madison, WI area in July. I will let you know about more seminars as they come up.

Of course, if you just want to donate, I'd be happy to take your money. Just write your check to PUMC, and designate it in the memo section as "House of Grace". Then, mail it to Portage UM Church, att. Pastor, 1804 New Pinery Rd., Portage, WI, 53901.

I hope you get a chance to either help me in my efforts, or to do something yourselves to help in your communities.

Thanks a lot, now, go train,

Chris Thomas

I Can't Believe I'm Entering the 21st Century

2009-06-12T08:41:00.000-07:00

Me, blogging! I can't believe I'm entering the 21st century. People who know me, know that I am notoriously lax in using that 1980's technology, email. My wife is the one who has the texting component of the phone contract. And twitter and IM are completely strange and mysterious to me.

Makes sense if you know me as a martial artist. I am a practitioner of "old school arts." I use the traditional styles in their intended ways. In fact, I am even more old fashioned than a traditionalist – I am a classicalist. The traditional martial artist is seeking to mimic the founder's method. The classical martial artist is trying to live in the purpose of the art. A movement passed on from some long-dead founder was passed on because it was useful and effective. I seek to understand and practice that useful and effective method. If I am modern in any way, it is that I recognize that those old movements and concepts must be equally applicable to contemporary situations – either by direct analogy, or by transferable principle.

I should also mention that, because I am a classical martial artists, I am also a heretic. I constantly challenge and discredit the way many people have been taught. "That's wrong, because..." is a common part of my vocabulary. I am not promising that I will be all controversial here. But, I do promise that whatever I say will be my most honest understanding of the martial arts. I can show why I do what I do, and if you can give me a better explanation for something, or a better way to do something, or a better solution to some problem, I'll steal it and start teaching that.

So, here's to the 21st century, and the possibility of modern technology serving the values of the classical martial arts.

Ok, now, go train.

Chris Thomas