3 Permissions

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.

CT

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

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.

CT

Fajing

Here is a post on fajing, explosive power.

Our New Book

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!

CT

Kobu-jitsu Masterclass

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.

CT

The Importance of Being Uke

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!

CT

Even Masters Have More to Learn

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!

CT