Notes on Karate Practice

I began practicing Shotokan Karate in 1975. My sister gave me a month of lessons and a gi for my 13th birthday. Previous to that, at 8, I had taken Judo briefly. I’m not sure why she got me karate, but I’m quite sure that it saved my life. I had an extremely “difficult” childhood. I won’t go into it, but suffice it to say that when I encounter relatives as an adult, they invariably say something like, “I can’t believe you turned out so normal after that train wreck of a childhood.”  My response is usually, “Well, you really don’t know me very well, do you?”  The truth is that I knew instinctively as soon as I started that I needed karate training like a newborn needs its mother’s milk. With all my anger, self-destructiveness and sorrow, karate gave me a way to focus that energy in a positive way, a framework of philosophy that encouraged self-awareness, growth, humility, graciousness and composure, and a physical outlet for my pent-up emotions.  I knew immediately that not only would I attain black belt, but that the journey that is martial arts would be a life-long practice.  Looking back, I suspect that I would not have made it to 20 years old had I not begun karate at 13. 

I was the only “child” in a dojo of adults, a dojo that emphasized a lot of jiyu kumite in a time when punches and kicks were not particularly controlled and the guy with the bloody nose, often me, was the one yelled at, not the perpetrator of the strike.  I heard, “Don’t bleed on the mat!” more times than I could count, and I was terrified in the car on the way to class every time for the first year or so. It seemed like I had a bloody nose at least once a week that first year, and my nose was broken twice in the first couple of years.  But I kept going, five times a week, first one there, last to leave, because I knew unconsciously in my core that my life depended on it. Also, it was easy to stay late as my mother was always an hour late picking me up.

If you asked me when I started, I would probably have said that I joined because I wanted to be like Bruce Lee, having seen a couple of his films.  Most of us join for various surface reasons like that; to be able to beat up my brother, or the bully at school, to lose weight or get in shape, to become strong and be able to defend myself, etc.  The very small percentage of us who keep practicing for many years find something much more meaningful and sustaining in the practice.  We come to understand that the training helps us become better human beings; more aware, kinder, more generous, more loving, peaceful and confident people.  We find something intrinsic in the practice that feeds our souls, if you believe in such things, something that facilitates our becoming, or approaching, our best selves.  We realize that rank, learning to fight, physical competency, are just side effects of this inner journey of self-awareness, mental harmony, and emotional stability. 

I was fortunate that my first karate teacher, Art McConnell, was a very innovative and creative martial artist. He was also a black belt in Aikido and Iaido and integrated those into our karate practice.  It was old school karate though; lots of basics, kata, weapons, and always 20 minutes to a half hour at the end with “light” ¾ speed, no referee, no gloves, jiyu kumite. I got beat up quite a bit that first year or so, but eventually, due to some innate physical gifts, an indifference to pain and injury, and plain old doggedness, I began to accrue a certain level of competence.  After two years I was awarded Taigu Shodan (Apprentice 1st degree Black Belt) and a year later, a month before my 16th birthday, Shodan in 1978.  I was the youngest student Sensei McConnell ever promoted to black belt, and, according to a conversation we had recently, the student who has taken it the furthest. 

When I moved to California from New York at age 19, I thought I was pretty much invincible. I had been the top student in my dojo for some time and thought that I was pretty tough.  Fortunately, on the way home from a pub at 1am on a Saturday night, I noticed a guy doing kata in the dark in a dojo by himself.  Intrigued, I decided to come watch a class. I had previously watched various martial arts classes in town, but had found none that warranted a second look.  As I entered the dojo a few days later, my whole reality completely shifted as I immediately realized that actually my own level was rather low compared to the karate legends that were practicing there that night. Not only was I completely dazzled by Mark Kohagura kicking the heavy bag (still the best kicker I have ever seen) but intensely polished and scary guys like Jeff Klein, Lee Muhl, George Gamble, Steve Bankes and Yoram Cohen, all of whom I immediately recognized as far above my own, previously over-estimated, level.  As if that weren’t enough to convince me, fortuitously, perhaps even miraculously, Mr. Ohshima happened to be there that particular night, performing all the mind bending, physics defying demonstrations he was known for at the time.  The soul-searing intensity of his eyes and mind, magnetic personality, and obviously other-worldly skills proved irresistible to my unmoored, fatherless young self and I joined immediately.  I consider this one of the most fortunate and meaningful decisions of my life. 

Practicing with the plethora of karate wizards in the SKA (Shotokan Karate of America), and attending regular black belt practices with Master Ohshima himself has been both an honor and a privilege.  SKA is littered with brilliant professors and scientists, as the University karate club is the norm.  The understandings imparted to me by these myriad outstanding teachers, the ethic of facing oneself through intense and physically demanding training, and most of all by the seemingly infinite wisdom and perspicacious mind of Ohshima Shihan has been not just formative, but defining to me, as a martial artist, and as a human being. It would be impossible to overstate Mr. Ohshima’s importance to me in this regard, or my gratitude and value I place on his impact on me.

Now, after over 44 years of training in Shotokan, as well as some intense, perhaps obsessive, training in Judo, wrestling and Aikido, I will attempt to elucidate some points, concepts and ideas about this practice that seem to me to be important for the serious practitioner. 

1.       Shotokan Karate is a TRAINING METHOD. The basics we so fervently practice in Shotokan karate are very important. The understandings that are imparted by the multitudinous repetitions of stances, blocks, punches, kicks and so on are intrinsic to the development and transmission of the ‘body knowledge’ of the essence of Shotokan karate and essential to acquiring competence in the style.  And one should return to the basics in their practice from time to time no matter their level.  One must understand, however, that this is the beginning, a primer, of a much higher understanding that can only be realized through other, less basic, practices. For instance, the ‘pulling hand’ located so specifically on the hip imparts to the student an awareness of the other side of the body, a cognizance that allows potentially infinite locations and an awareness of placement and feeling that eventually translates into the ability to use both sides, both hands at the same time: A simultaneous grab/punch, blocking and punching in unison, etc. Practicing pulling hand instills the potential for continuous fluidity and a synchronicity of both hands together.  That particular point on the hip is simply the furthest away from the opponent one can imagine locating that hand. The danger, of course, is in not being aware of this, not progressing beyond the ‘chambering’ of the pulling hand such that one must ‘touch base’ before blocking or punching, or while kicking.  Chambering literally pulls the hand or fist away from the opponent at a critical moment, thereby unnecessarily hindering speed and synchronicity of execution of the technique.  This is a ubiquitous problem in many black belts.

Another example of basic techniques that can be taken too literally is seen in blocking. Why do we stack our elbows when ‘folding up’ for most blocks?  Well, it turns out that keeping one’s elbows on the center line is extremely important in combat.  The stacking of the elbows over and over trains one to that awareness and inclination.  However, the higher the level of the practitioner, the ‘smaller’ the block gets while retaining the ‘connections’ that folding up in the basics engenders.  Hopefully. One has to evolve.  I see many black belts that do not understand this progression.  Similarly, although our stances teach stability and many connections that are extremely important, one would never find oneself in any particular stance for more than a microsecond in real sparring or combat.  Although front stance gives us courageous hips to penetrate our opponent, if you see someone breakdown into front stance in a bar fight, you can be pretty sure they’re about to lose that bar fight. The problem that these examples illustrate is that many practitioners get stuck in the basics and these training methods and never progress to the fluid, less stylized techniques that are imperative to higher level martial art. While retaining these important understandings and connections to the hips, to the ground, etc, one must move beyond basics at some point. They are part of a primer, a training method, and one must evolve in order to reach the highest levels.

2.           Shotokan karate, indeed any particular ‘style’, is by definition limited; one must see and fill the holes in one’s practice to become a real martial artist. All styles/martial arts are limited, Shotokan karate is no exception. We are primarily a striking art; most practitioners neglect to proactively assess the missing skills and take action to acquire the proficiencies. Throwing, falling, sweeping, groundfighting, knees, elbows and vital points are very common deficiencies in Shotokan karate-ka, although technically they are part of our curriculum.  These techniques appear time and again throughout our kata and were practiced by all of Master Funakoshi’s students, since most of them were already black belts in Judo or Aikido when they started karate.  I strive to convey these skills to my students, and integrate my own understanding into my classes as much as is appropriate. 

Unfortunately, in addition to these commonly missing abilities, many karate-ka think that their punches and kicks actually work; in a frighteningly large percentage of cases this is simply not true.  One must constantly be asking oneself, “does this (punch/kick) really work against a tough opponent?”  You’ve got to look at yourself with clear eyes, hawk’s eyes, as Ohshima Sensei says, and fix the problem, whatever it takes. Often that looks like hitting a bag and/or seeking out actual fighting experience, especially with trusted opponents.  Once you’ve reached a good level, with realistic striking, blocking, kicking and movement, one can start filling the holes in the style itself. To reach a truly high level in martial arts, a serious karate practitioner must grow their practice by putting in some serious time and effort into some other martial arts, for example, Judo, Aikido, BJJ, Muy Thai, Boxing, etc. 

3.           One must PROACTIVELY push your own level forward at all times.  It is terribly common to see karate-ka ‘stuck’ at a certain level, regardless of whether they attain higher rank.  It is the easiest thing in the world to stay the same, to be comfortable and complacent with one’s level. As Master Ohshima always reminded us, “We are all, as human beings, experts at making excuses, fooling ourselves and blaming others.  We must look at ourselves strictly, with clear eyes, and see our own weak parts in order to improve.”  All too often, karate-ka keep doing the same practices, the same way and become comfortable and blind to the need to change, evolve, and improve. We must proactively assess ourselves and seek to improve ourselves by getting out of our comfort zones and pushing ourselves to acquire new proficiencies, new ways to practice, institute new programs in order to push our level forward and up.  I know Sandans, Yodan, and Godans who have not appreciatively improved and evolved from Shodan or Nidan level. Einstein famously said insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. This applies to martial arts practice as well. At a certain point, one’s level is expressed in, defined by, the time between techniques, rather than in the technique itself. Multidirectional mobility, footwork, fluidity, synchronicity of mind, body and breathing, Irimi and true combat proficiency are not attained by basics, kata and prearranged kumite practice alone. To stay the same is to exist in stagnation. To become a true martial artist, one must have the courage and awareness to see one’s weaknesses and limitations and actively work to ameliorate the situation. That should be the ongoing mission of all black belts, in my opinion. 

4.           Breathing is a key. So many karate-ka of all ranks ignore breathing and its infinite importance in their execution of martial art.  Breathing in any endeavor is absolutely vital obviously; without it we die. However, the fact is that breathing is the way, the mechanism, by which we unify mind and body. Through our breathing, as Ohshima Sensei says, mind and body become one. Yet so many karate-ka hold their breath, or breathe in short bursts, or inefficiently in a myriad of ways. Our iconic ‘kiai’ is, in essence, a strong, vocal breath.  ‘Ki’ is energy. ‘Ai’ means harmony. When we breath, or kiai, correctly, we are harmonizing energy. What energy? That of the mind and body.  Whether a kiai is external (loud) or internal (focused sustained breathing), it is essentially breathing and is intrinsic and instrumental to our ability to make our mind and body become one. Breathing out correctly and continuously during one, two, three or more techniques will always create more fluidity, more effectiveness of the technique, more focus and penetration, as one’s mind and body becoming one in these moments, along with the strike, is the essence of martial art. This must be thoroughly investigated.

5.           To become an effective fighter, practicing a favorite technique is critical. All the above being said, repetition is essential to proficiency. Moving a learned movement, or set of movements, from intellectually understood into unconscious body knowledge requires the discipline of multitudinous repetitions in order to achieve proficiency and true effectiveness.  It is axiomatic that practicing one kata 10,000 times is infinitely better than practicing ten kata a 1000 times each. Therefore, a ‘favorite kata’, one that is studied and practiced over and over for many years is the best avenue to the highest levels of proficiency and understanding of that kata. Similarly, starting as soon as white belt, one should have a ‘favorite technique’ that is practiced every day, over and over, until it becomes absolutely unconscious and effective.  Usually, this technique is a set of movements, block/punch, punch/kick, grab/punch, etc, that is fervently and faithfully practiced for years until it becomes absolutely effective against anyone, anytime, anywhere. Then, you stick it in your proverbial toolbelt, come up with another technique, and spend a few years perfecting it. In this way, 20 or 30 years down the line, one has accrued 10 or 12 really effective techniques that work. It is sad, yet quite common, to see someone who has trained ardently for decades and still cannot fight effectively. Facing tough opponents in jiyu kumite often, while developing and practicing favorite techniques over time, is the path to avoid this all-too-common pitfall. 

6.            One’s mentality, discipline, focus and intention, not physical prowess or ability, will define one’s ultimate level.  As the SKA has so many university karate clubs, many in venerable and elite schools, I know quite a few karate-ka who started out seemingly hopeless, only to achieve, after many years and uncommon tenacity, relatively high levels in Shotokan karate. One’s intelligence, mentality, focus and intention can not be overestimated as critical factors in achieving a high level in karate.  Body type, size, and innate physical prowess can be factors, but are far less important to becoming a true martial artist. One woman I know, a Phd in rocket science from Stanford and Caltech, started out, as legend asserts, not even being able to jump up and down. She is now a Godan and has achieved a relatively high level as a karate-ka.  Another fellow, at almost 5 feet tall, is one of the most amazing martial artists I know.  Not only is his understanding unparalleled, but he delivered one of the hardest, most penetrating punches I ever received, while actually stepping backwards.  One can digest and assimilate the mechanics of karate in a few years or a decade, but true understanding and proficiency happens over many years, in the brain, in the will, in the guts, in one’s ability to focus and utilize discipline and mental strength to overcome any physical, or other, obstacles.

7.           Irimi is the essence of Budo.  “If your mind can go there, body will follow; if your mind does not go in, body has no chance.”  Master Ohshima said this many times, along with, “Penetrate your opponent!”  I thought I knew what he was talking about. Yes, penetrate your opponent mentally. And yes, of course, this is the most important thing. But it is only part of the equation. One must ultimately physically penetrate the opponent, ie: your center, hara, dan tien, hips physically, mechanically closes the distance and penetrates opponents’ center. This, along with the very high-level ability to move in strongly, quickly, with no hesitation, fear, or ego at the moment opponent decides to move, that is, ideally, before her actual movement begins, but at the moment of decision, you are already in, already penetrating with mind, body and fist as one. When mind (Ki), body (Tai) and fist (Ken) become one, Irimi can be accomplished.  “Iri” means to get in. “Mi” is body or center. Therefore, Irimi is the ability to penetrate physically and mentally the opponent at the moment of her decision to move. In your mind, in your feeling, you are already in, already there, before your movement begins.  This is a very difficult skill to acquire, utilizing timing, distance, mobility, mental acuity and awareness, and also something else, an ‘X’ factor that is hard to describe, but is essential to access the highest levels of martial art. It is the ability to become the opponent, to in essence, read their mind and to slow their movements relative to your own, with your mental strength.  As a Nidan, while taking an Aikido seminar with Saotome Sensei, a famous direct student of ‘O’ Sensei, Master Ueshiba, the founder of Aikido, he said, “Irimi is the essence of Budo.”  Literally a week later, Master Ohshima said the exact same thing in black belt class. Message from the universe received.

8.           Taking power off is essential to achieving the highest levels. Most of us, men especially, are used to using upper body strength to accomplish difficult tasks. This propensity, along with the staccato nature of Shotokan basics, conspire to create and sustain a ‘tenseness’ in our shoulders, a continuous tightening or contraction of muscles while punching, kicking and moving. Master Funakoshi said karate is slow and fast, hard and soft, expanding and contracting. The ability to completely relax, take power off, is essential to delivering maximum force, as well as to move with fluidity and speed.  When delivering a punch, for instance, one’s body, shoulders, arms, etc should be completely relaxed from beginning to the moment of contact. At that split second, the whole body becomes one, like a bronze statue, then instantaneously relaxes again a nanosecond later.  The quality of relaxation, combined with the briefness of tightness, defines the force of the punch, along with, of course, one’s ability to engage the whole body, the hips, in unison with the punch.  All too often this understanding is lacking, even in high ranking karate-ka, who have never gotten past the staccato tension of their nascent basics experiences. This ability to take power off, to relax, is intrinsic to fluidity, the ability to perform combinations well, and synchronous movement at the highest levels. Force equals Mass times Acceleration. One’s acceleration is greatly reduced without the ability to relax. At a certain level, what we are doing is channeling energy. Energy is all around, in the air, in the earth, in ourselves.  We channel that energy through our center, with our mind and breathing, and flow it through our fist or foot through our opponent.  Tension inhibits the flow of energy. I try to encourage my students to take power off all the time, as Ohshima Sensei always did for us.  Practicing kata very slow with open hands and no power can help, as does very relaxed slow-motion jiyu kumite. Ultimately, one must find out this truth themselves and mindfully work to realize this important ideal.

9.           Related to the above is the maxim that one’s practice has to change with age. As we get older, we cannot practice like a 20 year old. If we desire longevity in karate, we must concentrate less on power and more on relaxation, fluidity, breathing and energy flow. To continue to practice like a young person when one is not young is to court, even invite, injury and an end to one’s practice. This is much easier to accomplish by those who have accrued many years of practice before old age. Those who start karate in their 40’s, 50’s and beyond may find it very difficult to understand, digest and implement this.

Recently, for the couple of years, I’ve been teaching at the Defense Arts Center. Ty Aponte Shihan has been a friend for many years and honored me by asking me to teach some classes there.  Aponte Shihan’s strong dojo has a very good atmosphere and many talented and dedicated students and teachers.  Although this dojo has its roots in Shorin-Ryu and JKA (Japan Karate Association) Shotokan Karate, the very same issues discussed above are ubiquitous and pernicious, just as in Ohshima Shotokan in the SKA. 

The stages of learning, from beginner to ‘mastery’ is universal and is adroitly described by the Japanese term ShuHaRi. Shu, the beginning phase, is characterized by blind adherence to a regimen of forms and technique with no deviation or thought of underlying theory. Ha describes the stage wherein the student branches out, seeks other masters, starts to learn and understand theories and principles behind the technique and integrates these ideas into her practice.  In this stage there is potential for some innovation and some transcendence of the basic technique.  In the final stage, Ri, the student completely transcends the original forms, applying creativity and a melding with the unique nature of the student herself, allowing self-directed innovation, creative inspiration and deep understanding and insight.  As black belts, we must all strive for constant improvement and courageously and mindfully push ourselves forward for many years to achieve Ri in our practice. 

As Master Ohshima has always said, “The first condition of martial arts is to face oneself, strict and straight, to see oneself with clear eyes and through difficult, sustained practice, reach down into your deep strong parts, get rid of your weaknesses, selfishness and stupidity, to become better human beings.”  It is often the case that really high level, tough karate-ka prove to be the most gracious, selfless, gentle and kind people. That being said, contrary to the common belief of many beginners, no matter what rank or level, we are all incomplete, imperfect. We are all works in progress. The only difference is that the Senior has been trying to face themselves longer through their karate practice; for that we give them our respect. In the end, as Ohshima Sensei says, we are all trying through our karate practice to reach our ideal mentality, our ideal breathing, our ideal technique; we may never reach there, but that we are trying to get there, that is the important understanding. My own journey has been long and sometimes very difficult, and I am still a deeply flawed person, but I know I am at my best, I am my best self, when practicing karate, and owe much, if not all of my personal development, such as it is, and sense of self, to my karate practice.  I hope to continue to practice until my time on earth is complete.