Whipping It Into Shape

Deciding to work out is fairly easy; deciding WHAT to work on is the tricky part. These videos of George Donahue that Mark Belluscci has been posting giv me a good starting point. Even this one, only 3 minutes long has too many possibilities for me to work on at once. I select from among the comments and corrections he makes and figure I'll watch it again sometime and find something else to work on.


In this case, I decided to start with the whipping motion George talks about in relation to Pinan Shodan. The koshi will get there first, he explains, so what's furtherest from the koshi, i.e. the wrist and hand, will get there last. Therefore, it should snap into place last like something on the end of a whip.


The other thing that caught my attention was the idea that backfisting from the arm in the age (jodan) uke eliminates the tendency or need to wind up for the punch. Really?... Yeah. Really!! Cool!!


So, I played around with the mirror in the dojo until I had a reasonable view and got to work. I went through the full kata only 5 times but, in between, I was talking myself through the opening move: "Ok.Wrist snaps into place last. Then BACKFIST into the punch."


I also reminded myself to keep the hikite hand dynamic (remember that from last time?). After all, the only way for me to progress is going to be learning how to hang on to as many of the things I am working on as possible and to apply them to as many things as possible. So, I worked through Kyan No Sai a few times, working out some of the kinks and trying to apply the same principles. Then I worked on Passai, once again, trying to apply the same principles: whipping, eliminating wind-ups and putting the hikite hand to work. I did five full repetitions of Passai and worked on pieces in between.


I got stuck towards the end of Passai when I realized tat there was there was this one part that I hadn't felt comfortable with for a long time: the cut kick-stomp-punch down combination. I worked on the timing to get more power out of the punch. That helped but I have a long way to go.


And plenty of workouts ahead, I expect.

The Discipline of Gratitude

I started out the day at a boarding school helping form the teaching team for the IMPACT-School self-defense program. I taught the first in a series of five self-defense classes to a group of Older Women in Nes Ziona. I enjoyed the companionship and the professional fulfillment of advancing a year-old project to its pre-pilot stage. I enjoyed sharing an energetic hour with a group of bright, lively and challenging women. However,  I can't say that I experienced "gratitude" while attending to either of these things.

When did I feel truly grateful today? When I got home from the IMPACT-School meeting and finally sat down to a late breakfast (more like "brunch). When I actually lay down for a delicious hour-long nap before setting off for Nes Ziona. When I came home with the time, energy and desire for a half-hour sunset run.

The things that gave me the most pleasure were not the high-profile, atteniton-getting events of the day. They were the mundane, sweet pleasures of living---food, rest, exercise.

Soon, I will ascend the stairs to end my day with one of my favorite non-activities: sitting down on my meditation cushion for 20 minutes of being truly present: upright, breathing, and grateful. Just grateful.

And every night as I ascend those stairs I start coming up with a dozen reasons why I shouldn't meditate that night--- too tired, too late, too much on my mind, etc. etc. The only thing that gets me down on the cushion and allows me to experience the pleasures and benefits of my daily meditation is simple, down-and-dirty discipline.

It's the same with running. With karate practice. And, especially when times are tough,  with gratitude itself

In his Blog post, Learning To Consider Gratitude a Discipline, Joshua Becker reminds us to stop thinking of gratitude as a random emotional state. Like other deeply beneficial practices, gratitude is a discipline that can be cultivated and nurtured. And its fruits are sweet and substantial: less stress, more happiness and healthier relationships. A truly worthwhile body-mind-soul investment.

Alone Together

The holidays are over. It is time to begin...again. This open training journal is here to serve as a  watering hole of ideas for all those of you who are actively engaged in traditional warrior training on your own. 

Sometimes by choice, sometimes in response to circumstances beyond our control, we find ourselves alone. It is my hope that through this Blog, we can create a sense of community so that, even in our aloneness, we can be together.

Being a traditional martial artist did not make me a warrior; being a WARRIOR made me turn to the martial arts. But I am also a social worker, writer, karate & self-defense teacher, mother, grandmother, runner, musician, spiritual seeker, meditation practitioner... There is nothing about me that is not lit with the fire of my warriorship.

And that is a source of joy and inspiration for me.

Today, Day One of my latest journey, I was exploring the hikite ("returning"or "pulling") hand in the first two Pinan Kata (aka Heian Kata in Japanese styles).

Like many others, I tend to get caught up in the drama of my striking hand and forget to pay attention to that withdrawing hand. Funny thing about that hand. Not only does putting energy into it actually ADD to the power of the striking hand (who'd a thunk?). It also creates all kinds of creative and powerful opportunities for grabbing, striking, controlling and otherwise introducing the opponent to his/her well-deserved fate.

This article by Charles Goodin gives a "nice" introduction to some crunchy hikite ideas.

Warning: Philosophical musing- How often do we undervalue things in our lives with enormous potential we are enraptured by the 'bells & whistles'? Let's not leave the power of subtlety and process unexplored...

Hikite and I will be spending more time together in the near future. A Mental Health run is next on the docket. And so is a good night's sleep.