It's Not a Block (and never was)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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