Endings and Beginnings

 

4 years ago at the old dojo. Good times. Good people. I remember this night like it was yesterday. We had just finished a cycle and after the testing the mood was high and everyone was happy. They had worked hard for the past 3 months, showed their skills and were graded and validated. They passed. They progressed. It was wonderful.

4 years later I'm the only one in the picture still training. What happened?? Life happened. People change. They move, get married, switch careers, have children. Priorities change. There are lots of distractions on the Path. I understand. Really, I do. Perhaps better than most after 44 years on this journey. I think the real difference is whether or not a person finds their way back to the Path. If it is (or was) important enough to remain a priority. Some find their way back. Some don't. When they don't, we usually don't get to know the reason. It remains a mystery. They just...disappear. Sometimes even kasamas and black belts disappear. It happens.

At the beginning of their journey maybe it was a passing curiosity; a desire to feel safe or to be better or to challenge something a bit out of the ordinary gym/yoga/pilates/crossfit cocktail that many people are into nowadays. Then, hopefully it became a fascination. It became a thing to look forward to every week, an escape from the mundane eat/work/sleep pattern that we knew was better than just binge-watching shows on streaming. The culture, the movement was intriguing and the community was welcoming. A bunch of people discovering together.

Maybe it got to the point where they understood that the habit of going to the dojo yields benefits other types of training do not. Maybe they discovered that this was the key to creating the version of success they really wanted. The dojo became an obsession - a need to link effort and outcome to build a future where we can be truly, authentically, fearlessly ourselves. The dojo, the community became central to our lives as a place to grow and improve, a habit as cemented as brushing our teeth. This is what happened to me. In the end, there was really no place I would rather be than the dojo.

Or maybe not.

Maybe somewhere along the way the message simply didn't land. 

As a teacher this is what I think about all the time. Did I fail them? Did they fail themselves? Is it even a failure at all? Did their training serve its purpose even if they didn't continue? Could I have done more/done differently to help them understand the value of consistent training and of honoring the commitment to self improvement that lies at the heart of martial arts and the Path? 

I'm grateful for the opportunity to do what I do and for the trust placed in me by my students to be a worthy guide on the Path and to faithfully give my very best every single lesson for them - to make sure it is always about them and never about me. That said, I always feel a bit sad when students stop training, despite the reason. I worry that maybe I failed them.

If this is you, dear student, remember that I will always be here for you and ready to accept you back when you are ready. I promise to remain open to your feedback and not to let ego get in the way of helping you get what you need from your training. I hope your experience will have been a positive one and that it will leave you a better person than you were when you started. That is all.

No student "owes" their teacher anything except to do their best when they come to class. We are lucky to be here and to have this time together for as long as it lasts. For my part, I hope the day I die I will have taught a class - that I am doing this thing I love until my very last breath. I hope that I can be of service and be useful to others along this journey.  I hope I can inspire them to invest effort in themselves to become who they want to be and to build their version of success because they are not afraid to live life on their own terms. If I can do that, even for just one person, then it was all worth it.

See you in January 

The Lesson of the Snake

 

The lesson of the snake is an important one. This snake somehow managed to wrap itself around a common saw, which began to dig into its skin. As it felt pain, the snake fought back. It squeezed harder, desperate to hurt the thing that was hurting it. Desperate to win the fight. The harder the snake squeezed, the more the saw blade dug in and cut its flesh. Eventually, the snake succumbed to its wounds and died. The saw won.

This picture really got me thinking. How often am I fighting back when I should be letting go? How many times have I been so desperate to inflict pain on the people and things that hurt me that I end up suffering far worse? In the end, the desire for revenge, the need to win no matter what, cost the snake its life. It would cost me my life, too. If I let it.

Sometimes in life, the smartest thing to do is let go. To walk (or crawl) away.

Zen practice is really about seeing the truth. In ourselves and in others as well. In seeing this truth, moment by moment, we are free to act naturally in order to minimize the suffering of our own preconceptions and illusions. I hope to have the openness to accept the truth in my life and not let myself be hurt trying to win impossible fights. I hope I can see clearly that revenge can often cause more suffering than just leaving. If I am going to fight for my life, I hope it will be for something important and not just out of spite.

Thank you to the snake for this valuable lesson. I won't forget it.

See you at class.

80s Dance Party

 

It was a great night. Class parents organized an event for those of us with children graduating in the class of 2025. The theme was 80s Dance party. Being born in 1966, the 80s were a magical time for me. I was coming of age into adulthood, going from my teens into my 20s, graduating high school (1984), working my first jobs, starting college (1987) and so on. My favorite 80s music is tied directly to my experiences at that stage of my life. It brings back so many beautiful memories. It was a glorious time at the full-on pace one can only have when they are young and full of energy. Reliving those days and nights was such a treat.

I decided to go as a rapper, JON DMC (see photo). It was super fun to get out the Adidas track suit and fake chains, my Kangol cap and so on. I forgot how much fun a good costume party can be.

For the first hour or so, everyone was at the bar with drinks and chatting. This did not do for my wife, who LOVES dancing. She grew up a gymnast and dancer so as a lifelong athlete she really wanted to hit the floor. Finally the good music came on and we got to it. I’m not a great dancer by any means, but I used to go a lot, especially in the 80s.

I found an immediate difference between the parents who are active into their 40s and 50s and those who are not. Many of the wives had a sports background which continued into their parenting years via yoga, pilates, running and other sports. They were comfortable getting onto the dance floor and had a wonderful time. For some of the guys, although they looked slim, you could tell there was apprehension when it came to moving the body. They looked nervous and worried, that maybe their hip or back or knees wouldn't hold up to a song or two. Maybe they were shy and needed a few more drinks first.

Of course, for people with injuries I fully understand. Many of us have been in car accidents (I've been in 10!) or had other events that leave lasting damage to the body that is hard to recover. However, for many of them, the only injury is that of neglect. For some, being consumed by career meant not going to the gym, walking, or pursuing other hobbies that allow you to move and sweat. Over 10 or 20 years, the body adjusts to NOT MOVING, and that becomes the norm.

I’m not going to do an Ironman triathlon anytime soon, but I was grateful that I could still go out dancing for a few hours and then get up and be active (over 10k steps) the following day despite being 58. I think this is normal. I am again grateful for the habits of martial arts training which keep me stretching and moving a few times a week and make me feel younger than I am.

It was a reminder to stay active. Always. The alternative is early onset disability.

The saddest part of this is that it would occur (presumably) after becoming successful and having the time and money to pursue the passions and hobbies we have spent a lifetime saving for. This may explain why many people pass away so soon into their retirement years - the body simply can't provide the mobility for more activity.

Death is an inevitability for us all, but personally I'd like to be as active as I can until then. O-Sensei (Morihei Ueshiba), founder of Aikido, was actively teaching until the day he died. I hope to follow his example.

See you at class!

I'm Butch

 

(thanks for the inspiration Porl)

"You could stop, you know...you could just quit...", he said. "You have enough money, you don't need the stress." I had a big week ahead of long, long days and nights with the global team arriving that morning. I kept looking at my phone nervously. He noticed. This was the part of the lunch with my friend I always dreaded...the part when he tells me all the mistakes I make. It can take a long time.

He was right. I could stop. I could just quit. I have enough money. I don't need the stress. He was right. He's usually right.  So why didn't I??

He described the life he imagined I would have if I quit...idyllic days and nights filled with warm and comforting family times. Good conversations, good food.  Good times. Hearing him tell it it sounded great.

I wish it was always like that but frankly it isn't. Relationships are hard work sometimes, even relationships with your kids. Life at home is not always peaceful and comforting. Sometimes, to be honest, it is easier and more comforting to be in the office. He conceded that. He rarely concedes anything.

I told him what I missed most. What comforted me most. What was always glad to see me, welcomed me at the door, never judged me or criticized me. What loved me unconditionally. Not what...WHO.

My Butch.

Butch is what I miss most, what I was always looking to come home to. I miss sitting on the couch with him nestled in my lap, or lying down with him snuggled next to me, his little nose breathing softly. It's not the same since he has gone. It never will be. Nothing and no one could ever replace him. I told my friend with tears in my eyes. I held Butch at the exact moment when he died, right there in my arms. When he went I wanted to go with him...I didn't want to be left behind...it hurt too much.

That's when my friend dropped the bomb." Now you are Butch", he said. My jaw dropped. I tried to process it.

"You really are", he continued. "Now it's your turn to be there to love and comfort others. Now it's your job to welcome everyone home and to give them the same unconditional love Butch gave you." By this point the tears were rolling down my cheeks. I was starting to have trouble breathing. My chest felt heavy, tight.

"The best way to honor and remember him is to take the best parts of what he meant to you and live them for others. If you do this, Butch will always live on. Not just in your heart and in your thoughts but in your actions as well."

He was right of course. He's usually right. I hate when he's right. It is a blessing to have really smart and wise friends to advise me, but sometimes it's also a pain in the ass.

No, I'm not quite done grieving for Butch. However, the love, support and advice from my friends is helping me deal with it and learn to move forward.

I'll try to be Butch.

It Hurts

 

(I managed to find a picture showing exactly where it hurts - haha)

痛いです。(it hurts). Last week Wednesday I found out I have a pinched nerve in me neck/shoulder. What happened?  Maybe it was the cheap seats on the plane ride back from Taipei. Maybe it was stress. Maybe it was bad posture at the computer for long hours.  No idea.

How did I find out? It started as a dull, numbing pain, like what you get after too much exercise. By Thursday it was much more - like being stabbed in the trapezius and the knife being slowly twisted back and forth. The pain was deep and completely unbearable. It would spasm, and the pain made my eyes water. I couldn't sleep because I would roll onto that side and the pain would wake me up. I could work (yes I still had deadlines to meet and meetings to do) but only 15-20 minutes at a time and would then have to lie down until the pain subsided. I kept my camera off during meetings so they wouldn't see my face grimace when it would spasm. I went to the clinic on Saturday and the doctor gave me two weeks of pain meds (Voltaren 25mg capsule - in case Dr. Jay reads this). It hasn't helped. It still hurts as I write this.

Guro David kept talking about acceptance when we were at the Legacy Camp in September. It was such a beautiful time, with beautiful souls. Walks and talks, sharing and openness, perfect weather, nature, great music, days of intense training with world-class instructors, delicious food with the best human beings. The power, the connection, the energy was so high and so complete. I felt seen, loved, respected. I felt HOME. It was one of the best experiences of my life. When life is good it's so easy to talk about acceptance. Who wouldn't accept such perfect days and nights?? We nod our heads and smile and think "yes, I could accept this. This life...of course".

But now I am in pain constantly. The question I keep asking is "Can I accept this?" It's a much harder question. Part of me wants to run away, escape, hide, cry. "Can I accept this?" YES  As a Buddhist, and as Guro David explained, acceptance is a requirement to be in the moment. Right here, right now. Even if it hurts, it's very important to acknowledge that pain, accept it as a natural part of life, and allow it to run its course. Yes, sometimes it hurts. Sometimes it hurts a lot. However, sometimes it also feels good and I feel happy. The practice of Zen is designed to help us understand that we should not be obsessed or attached to such things because no matter what they are, they are temporary - just as we are, too.

For many of us, there is psychological/emotional pain as well. Sometimes together with physical pain, sometimes on its own. Like physical pain, emotional pain can be debilitating if we let it. Sometimes, the emotional pain is far worse because it can stay longer and exist unseen to the people around us. Mental health is every bit as important, if not more so, than physical health. Sadly, sometimes the emotional pain can cause us to want to run away permanently. Physical pain can do this too, and there is a real discussion to be had about dignity in death and assisted suicide for those with terminal illness, for example. I sincerely hope this is never a consideration for those with psychological/emotional pain. Good, expert mental health care is critically important. 

Over the past weeks, I have transitioned from emotional pain (grief over losing my Butch) to physical pain (pinched nerve). Not the best of times. Still, I remain positive. My training helps me remain calm even though it hurts. I take deep breaths and I focus. I know it will pass. My grief, my pain are all just steps on a path and soon I will step forward from them and leave them behind. One day I will leave it all behind, so until then I want to keep moving forward toward where I need to go - my mission. I won't let pain stop me.

They say faith is worthless until it is tested. Then testing is a good thing. Now I know. I am strong. I am unbreakable. I am a Peaceful Warrior.

See you at class.

Good Grief

 

These days, I grieve.

I lost my dog, Butch, at 15 years old a few weeks ago and I am still sad about it. The grief is not a constant flood of tears like it was in the first few days after it happened. Still, not a single day goes by that I don't think about him or miss him. I listen for his footsteps and reach over to pet him where he used to be, right next to me. Always. I feel a profound emptiness.

Everyone has tried to console me these past few weeks and I am very grateful for that. They tell me how lucky I was. How I was lucky to enjoy so many years with such a good boy (I know). They tell me how lucky I was that he went quickly, that I was there to hold him in his last moments, watching him take his final breath. They tell me how lucky I am that I wasn't at work or on a business trip or at the store or anywhere else.  They tell me how lucky I am that he didn't die alone at the vet. They tell me how lucky I am that he knew how much we loved him and treasured him.  He knew how important he was and how much his life mattered to us. All this is true. I do feel lucky. But honestly, it doesn't help much.

I grieve. And that's OK. In fact, I think grief is good.

Grief is only possible when we care; when we love. I have only ever felt grief for those very close to me. The worst were my foster parents. Then my foster brother. Losing them felt like being shot or stabbed. When my foster mom died and my foster dad called to tell me the news (in all my years in Japan he only called once) I felt real physical pain. I fell to the ground wailing and I couldn't move. My friend had to come and stay with me for a few days since I couldn't even get out of bed. It's funny when I realize I spent more time with Butch than I did with my foster mom. The pain was the same but I am 30 years older and more resilient now. I have tried not to let my heart harden and to remain compassionate. I think after everything I am more able to accept my emotions and allow them their place.

We all deal with grief in our own way, and there is no set recipe for getting through it. Likewise, there is no  timeline or timetable that can help us. It takes as long as it takes and it hurts as much as it does.

For some, the pain is unbearable and they try to escape it through drinking, taking drugs, fucking. Whatever. Any kind of love or pleasure to combat the overwhelming feelings of pain and loss. Anything to try and fill up the emptiness. I get it. I can't judge anyone else for how they deal with grief. To each their own I suppose.

I don't want to run away or look away. I don't want to escape the pain. In fact, I want it. I want to feel it all. Completely. I know that the only way is to go forward. Through the pain and emptiness to the other side. If I allow distraction in whatever form it will just take that much longer to heal. There are no shortcuts or lifehacks or tricks for this. There is only patience and time, as much as it takes.

Life in martial arts, especially when it is anchored in Zen practice, helps. We are no strangers to death since we study it intimately. The Path tells us that it can be our time anytime on any day, and Zen encourages us to be in the moment fully so as not to experience regret when that moment comes, and it will come for all of us. Certainly my Butch lived in the moment. Zen is not morbid, only accepting of death as part of the natural order of things, not to be feared but to be remembered and reflected upon in order to give this impermanent life greater meaning and purpose. In Buddhism we consider the soul as immortal and so the loss of the physical form can be thought of more as a transition back to our natural state, Light. Once Butch died I no longer thought of his physical body, which we cremated the following day. His spirit had left and that shell was empty. He was free, his mission fulfilled. I know this and it comforts me, but only a little. The pain is still great. He was such an important part of this phase of my life. So many precious memories.

I miss you, little one. I think I always will. and that's OK. Grief is good.

Butch (about Acceptance)

 

(thank you for the inspiration GD)

Yesterday at 09:45 my faithful companion of 15 years, Butch, died. He had a massive heart attack and slipped away in my arms. I watched the light in his eyes fade... and he was gone. Just the evening before he had gone on his walk as per usual, slower now that he was older. In the morning he was sitting next to me, sharing my morning bread as he always did. 30 minutes later he had passed away, closing a very important chapter in all of our lives. Today we cremated him and his remains took their place next to our Xie Xie, who died 11 months earlier to the day.

At the Kali Majapahit Legacy Camp in Travelers Rest, SC we started every day with a 7am walk on the beautiful campus of Furman University. It was a time for meditation and movement, filled with deep conversations that would set the tone for the rest of the busy day of training sessions. I was always glad to spend that time with my brother, Guro David from Espoo, Finland. Like me, he has a background that is anchored in the Japanese traditional arts and it is part of his personal philosophy. He is a keen observer and able to break apart complex ideas into simple things that everyone, including me, can easily understand. I always learn so much from him.

On one morning, as the sun was rising, Guro David was talking about acceptance. This became one of the most important themes of the camp. We were engrossed in the conversation, relating this topic to every aspect of the Budo and our lives.

In Kali Majapahit, we train people to be changemakers. We prepare them to take responsibility for who and how they are, challenging them to accept a life of balance and health - mental/physical/emotional. Rather than complain, we teach them to activate and get engaged in making the changes that result in personal growth, in becoming the best version of themselves. We learn to make and keep promises both to ourselves and to others, proving again and again that we are achievers. By performing successfully in class consistently, we show that we can perform consistently in every other aspect of our lives. We learn that focused effort yields powerful outcomes and we become willing to invest the sweat it takes to make our dreams into reality. It was amazing to spend a week together with black belts from all over the world who had this in common. The positive energy was incredible, like being plugged into a giant battery. It was truly a room full of superheroes.

So what about acceptance then? Doesn't that mean sitting by passively and letting the world unfold without lifting a finger trying to change it??

Actually, NO.

There are two sides to change, which together create the whole. Just as Yin/Yang (陰陽）exist as two equal sides in Taoist philosophy. On one hand, we need to learn that many/most of what happens in life is outside our control or influence. Simply, the events cannot be changed. We are born, we grow old, we die. This process can be influenced to some degree but cannot be changed. Most importantly, we cannot change the karmic journey of others and cannot take their journey onto ourselves.  Depending on what flavor of Buddhism you believe, our own destinies are also pre-ordained and cannot be changed (Guro Fred deeply believed this). We must become who we are meant to become.

However, although we cannot change the events in our lives, we can control how we react to them. We can interpret these events in positive or negative ways and this in turn influences the tone of how we live. Some people have a tone that is decidedly negative and sad.  Every event that transpires is viewed through a lens that interprets it in the most negative and sorrowful way. Such people are usually sad and miserable. In a perverse way, maybe they feel validated by the misery they create for themselves, as if feeling sorry for themselves somehow absolves them of the need to take responsibility for their own lives and circumstance. They maintain that they are unlucky, cursed or that God hates them. This is the victim mindset.

By contrast, some people feel blessed by every event. Even difficult or sad occurrences are perceived as opportunities for learning, maturity and growth. Hardship is seen as a pathway to wisdom and a source of empathy and compassion for others. They feel that God grants the toughest challenges to those most able to bear the burden. They seem unbreakable and resilient even in the face of catastrophe. The events didn't change, but their interpretation of them did. This is the mindset of survivors and victors.

In the end, acceptance is about allowing every moment, every event, to happen without trying to alter them. It means not allowing lies to cloud the truth of what has been. It means not turning away from hardship or running from it. It means facing every challenge with eyes wide open, experiencing the moment fully and completely. It means being right here, right now. Always. Likewise, acceptance means not dwelling too much on the good events either. We know that these, too, will fade in time and we do not seek to hold onto them too tightly. We enjoy the moments, and allow ourselves to feel accomplishment without becoming drunk on pride or ego. Reality grounds us. Acceptance is the antithesis of attachment. Letting Go is a process of acceptance.  This is easy to talk about and hard to do in practice.

Yesterday I had to accept the loss of my beloved pet. This could not be changed. I had to let go. His spirit left yesterday morning as I looked into his eyes. Today, his body was burned and his remains returned to us for safekeeping. I will not dwell in the past but I will never, ever forget him. I will not cry for the future, but I will always wish I could have spent more of it with him. I will always wish for one more day, one more moment to share together. Mostly, I am grateful for the gift of his love and companionship during these 15 years. I was so incredibly lucky to be the human of such a perfect dog. He taught me so much and even in his dying breath showed me how to accept and to let go of this life with dignity and grace. I have understood the assignment. I will be ready when it is my turn.

Thank you Butch, my furry little Zen master. Please wait for me, I will see you again before too long.

Until then, RUN FREE 

What we Learn By Being Tested

 

(Thanks for the inspiration JP)

Testing is an important part of the KM rotating curriculum. Every three months we introduce, learn, practice and drill new material. At the end of the cycle, we test to see how well we have mastered it.

Testing is an opportunity to show growth and progress not just in our technique, but in our character. We show our intensity, our focus and our concentration. Sometimes the tests can be an hour or more, requiring continuous focus to perform. This is no small feat.

When we pass the test, we are recognized for our efforts, but are also allowed to feel a strong sense of accomplishment. We are building good habits, showing up for ourselves and fulfilling the promises we made to become a better version of who we were. Again and again we repeat this process of goal-setting and goal achievement, proving to ourselves that we are continuous learners and constantly improving. Doing this in the dojo shows we can do it outside the dojo. In our lives at home, at work/school and with our friends, we are able to evolve to become more authentic and more genuine - we learn to be present and to respect both ourselves and others. We become part of the Positive Light that brightens the world.

So what do we really want students to take away from a test??  It is a physical challenge, of course. In every cycle we introduce a lot of complex material that can be hard to remember. At the beginning of the cycle all of it is unfamiliar and gradually we commit it to muscle memory. We are continuously reviewing our basics and strengthening our foundation so that new movements and techniques are strong, too.

However, more than this we develop RESILIENCE. This is the ability to persevere in the face of difficulty. We learn to refocus/reset and recover when we are under stress and not to simply give in to pressure and fold. Sometimes a test just doesn't go as planned. The techniques and flow don't come easily. We get stuck. We feel frustration. There is high anxiety because we want to do our very best. Our mind races and we regret every training session we missed or that we did not review enough outside of class. We feel nervous and afraid of failure...

It is in these moments that we find the depth of our character. Under pressure, we rise. Unbroken, we breathe deeply and reframe ourselves. We focus on being right here/right now. We feel the connection to our practice and to our partner. We let go. We accept. WE FLOW.

As a teacher, I am always so proud to see students correctly execute the techniques of Kali Majapahit. They move with power and grace and seem able to handle every new challenge I give them. More than this, I am impressed by their courage and fortitude when the going gets tough. This gives me comfort that I am helping them develop skills that will bring them success outside the dojo, too.

Not every fight is in a dark alley and not every confrontation is physical. If we learn properly, we can use our martial arts training every single day. The Kali Majapahit experience helps us learn to manage stress and pressure, essential in many areas of our lives.

Thank you to all the students for reminding me of this and for showing me why what I do is so important.

Pugay Po

What I learned from last night's Cycle Test

 

After an exciting week at KM HQ in beautiful Travelers Rest, South Carolina, Guro Joe and I were back in Japan. The following day, we held our cycle test. The test was originally planned for August 31, but it just didn't happen.

Prior to leaving, a few unexpected issues arose. First of all, a major typhoon (ShanShan) threatened Japan that week. In the end, damage was minimal as at the last moment it veered away from the Greater Tokyo Metro Region. However, heavy rains and flooding still caused disruption to most public transportation and in the interest of safety, I made the decision to cancel the session. Secondly, I was invited to a business dinner with several board members from my key customer. My boss flew in from Singapore specifically for the event, so it could not be postponed. The dinner was a big success, but I again had to cancel class.  The following day, Guro Joe and I flew to the US for the Legacy Camp.

In all, the students were left without any dojo training sessions for about two weeks. I was very concerned that in the interim, without constant repetition, they might forget the material. During the prior three month cycle, we covered a wide variety of techniques ranging from single stick flow (sumbrada) to empty hands (Hakka Kuntao) to kickboxing. It's a lot to remember.

Last night I gave them the option to postpone the test in favor of a few more review sessions. Unanimously, they decided they wanted to go ahead as planned.

First of all, that decision represented the very best of the warrior spirit. In the face of adverse conditions, they showed the courage to move forward, letting go of fear and accepting the challenge - facing it head on rather than waiting for greater certainty. I applaud the confidence and dedication to moving forward. As a wise man said "Done is better than Perfect".

Secondly, it showed that even after a few weeks away from the dojo they largely remembered the techniques. That shows mastery. All too often in life, we fail to own the material beyond what it takes to pass a test. This is not the same as really knowing something. Knowledge committed to our long term memory remains with us sometimes for decades. Like the proverbial "riding a bike", some things are never forgotten. I am both proud and humbled that KM is important enough for them to have committed it to their muscle memory.

In the end, it was an amazing test. Focus, discipline, engagement. They had it all. Was it perfect? Of course not. As I told them, I have never had a perfect test either. I always walk away with a little regret, wishing I had done just a little better. However, for the most part the techniques were good, showing solid foundations and good understanding of the basic mechanics of KM.

I could not be more proud.

In the end, beyond simple technique,  our time in the dojo should build our resilience. It should help us learn to remain calm in the face of any challenge and to rise to adversity and face it like warriors.

Thank you again to the students for a great demonstration of this. Well done.

See you next week.

Losing

 

The Paris Olympics is in full force now, and there are so many emotional moments. Athletes give their all in pursuit of medals not just for themselves but for their countries as well. The results of the past 4 years of preparation bear fruit as we see the very best compete for the glory of being champions.

There is heartbreak, too. Above the photo of Uta Abe, Japanese Judo medalist who rose to prominence in the Tokyo Olympics as she and her brother Hifumi were the first siblings to take individual gold medals in Olympic history. She had been unbeaten since 2019 and was heavily favored to win another individual gold, as her brother did later that day. She lost to Uzbekistani player Diyora Keldiyorova in what her brother termed an "accidental ippon". Heartbroken, her tears and wails of disappointment as she left the mats became a notable meme. We shared her pain.

There will always be times when we fail. We will fail to exceed our own expectations, or those of the people who count on us. There will be times when we are tried in public or on social media, fairly or unfairly. There will be times when we don't get the praise we think we deserve for the results we deliver. We may be passed over for promotion or have rumors unfairly spread about us.

As human beings, we seek validation and praise as part of our basic natures. We want to do well, and we want to be acknowledged and recognized for it. From the time we are born, we seek, even crave, the acceptance and praise of those we think are above us - parents/grandparents, older siblings, friends, teachers, coaches, professors, priests, in-laws, bosses and job mentors. Late in life, we seek validation from our children or grandchildren who we hope will recognize and acknowledge our sacrifices and think we did a good job for them. This is completely natural - until it becomes obsessive. When it causes us to suffer then maybe it is worth considering a bit more deeply.

Buddhism is an important way of philosophical thinking in that it addresses the ego directly. We are constantly reminded of our connection to everything, our sameness, our "smallness". In rejecting duality in favor of singularity, we accept that no other living being is above us and neither are we above any other. Our connectedness makes us equal and humbles us.

In Buddhism we also look carefully at the trap of expectations, which lead to desire and oftentimes to disappointment. This is done not to disavow our emotions, but rather to recognize and acknowledge them so we can let them go - and not be controlled by them. It is a process of deep observation aimed at every aspect of our lives.

As martial artists too, it is easy to be caught up in the thrill of competition and romanticize violence. Many famous Hollywood movies do exactly that. However, Buddhism clearly reminds us that such actions are really just "ego candy", establishing artificial rankings and hierarchies where they should not be. Our ego often gets in the way of good training and connecting to our training partners. Belts and ranks engender respect, but can also create feelings of unfairness or comparison where they are not warranted. Movies like "The Karate Kid" beautifully showcase our obsession with winning, often at the cost of someone else.

Kodo Sawaki, Zen teacher of Taisen Deshimaru, famously said "The secret of martial arts is that there is no victory and no defeat. You can neither win nor be beaten." Of course, this is not the same in sports and as such sports are not martial arts. This is worth thinking about. Losing her match does not equate to weakness nor failure. Neither can it be fully attributed to the strength and skill of her competitor. It simply happened. No more, no less. Every encounter is unique and no outcomes are ever guaranteed. Can we really say she "lost"? That Diyora Keldiyorova "won"? Both? Neither??

My heart goes out to Uta Abe. The heavy weight of so much expectation clearly took a toll on her. She is still young (24 years old) and has hopefully lots of life yet to live. She will rise, stronger, and this experience will help make her a better competitor and a better person. I hope she finds peace as soon as possible.

Train Hard.   

Two Sides of the Coin

 

There is much about the Filipino martial arts (FMA) that at first can seem difficult. In many cases, we feel that various concepts are at odds with each other or even directly in conflict. The movements are initially hard to master and don't feel natural, particularly if like me you are coming from a very different background. The ideas of FMA can feel very alien, at least for the first few years.

Lately, in my research while teaching expressions of 5 count sumbrada, I am thinking a lot about compactness. On one hand, the idea of being compact is an essential part of being a good fighter and a cornerstone of FMA movement. In general, we prefer to have the knees deeply bent and to move low to the ground. We often avoid jumping or large steps in favor of keeping the footwork more as a shuffle, using the coiling step to develop explosive striking power. As time goes on, my blocking positions (when I block at all) in stick/empty hand/knife become more and more compact.

I find that I prefer to be very close to my opponent, negating any reach advantage (I'm small) and allowing me easy access to any vital targets without a lot of excess stepping or reaching. From the stick and blade I have found that when I "go get" an attack I end up losing my guard and structure and it becomes easy to hit my hands, get a disarm or pass my guard and hit my body or head. When I reach for the incoming attack I am often vulnerable to fakes. I'm much faster when I stay compact and I feel more protected. I also find it easier to get traps and disarms the closer to my body I am. Conversely, as a fighter I like to cause my opponent to extend their blocks, “drawing” them away from their guard in order to open up opportunities and attacking lines, often through strikes like abanico/witik or vertical redondo. Since this a key aspect of my fighting strategy, I deliberately keep my guard close and tight to avoid someone using those strategies on me.

In contrast, instead of being compact I usually want to extend fully when I hit or cut something. I want to use the reach of the weapon fully, and in FMA most weapons operate via centrifugal force via the shoulder, which means the more extended my arm is the more impact energy is transferred to the striking tip. This is less necessary with a blade, but helps a lot when you hit with the rattan and want to have stopping power.

Extending my arm fully when I attack also prevents the opponent from easily stepping back out of range, which can happen if I shorten the arc of my swing. I want to make sure the opponent must address my attack with a block or intercept rather than just dodging out of the way. That means I want to get both a powerful strike and long weapon arc wherever possible.

What I found is that I try to be as compact as possible when I block and as extended as possible when I attack. this combination of opposing principles seems to give me the most effective movement and the best "look" to my flow. When I emphasize this with my students, they definitely look better in 5 count sumbrada and can operate the drill more smoothly and quickly.

For footwork as well, when defending I keep my steps as compact and minimal as possible, usually one step and bring the trailing foot, no more. When attacking, I try to use the 45 degree corners aggressively and go as far on them as I can, always pressuring forward and always threatening to flank my opponent. This seems to help by keeping them constantly adjusting rather than focusing on finding attacking lines into me.

Thus, my current approach is a combination of being very compact and being very extended, which I consider to be two sides of the same coin.

I'm still working through this topic with my students and thinking a lot about it every day. I'll write up more as I develop more hypotheses and test them in class.

Please share your own thoughts and observations.

Train hard.  

Four Corners

 

In this cycle, we are working on hubud lubud drill as a template to explore the Hakka 5 gates. This gives students a foundation in Hakka striking and trapping flows, including foot trapping and low line kicking, which are essential elements in the Hakka systems.

One of the key ideas to master when studying Hakka Kuntao is the idea of compactness. Of course this can be applied to all other systems as well, but the use of hubud lubud and the 5 gates provides a great visualization tool for understanding this idea.

I often explain compactness to my students using the idea of a box or "four corners". In Japan, I sometimes use a kanji to illustrate the corners and center line. The four corners represent the anchor points of the torso, namely the two shoulders and the two hips. By watching the two top corners I can easily see my opponent's movement start to develop, which makes their attacking intention easier to predict. Likewise, by watching their hips I can see any adjustment of their footwork, stance or the beginnings of a kicking motion. All four of these can be monitored by watching the center mass of the torso at the sternum, and Guro Fred deliberately put our logo in that spot on the training t-shirts as a focal point for this purpose.

In fighting, our goal should always be to protect our four corners. By doing so, we naturally keep attacks away from the main part of the torso including all the vital organs heart/lungs/plexus/liver/spleen. Throat and groin sit along the centerline but are generally protected if we protect the four corners. In Hakka, typically, the elbows connect to the hip corners and the hands connect to the shoulder corners. This means the hands will rarely go above shoulder height, and the elbows remain pointed downward in order to keep a strong structure.

Likewise, we are usually seeking to get past our opponent's  guard and access their torso by passing one or more of the corners. The strikes in Hakka are often aimed at the centerline and center mass, and traps usually lift the arms above the shoulder line or pin them to the low line at the corners of the hips.

Thus, the concept can be simplified to keeping the opponent outside the four corners of our box while getting access to their box ourselves. Other techniques like low kicks, locks, throws and the like serve only to create opportunities to penetrate the guard and gain access to the vital areas inside the box.

These concepts are universal. Combative knife fighting and shooting also emphasize targeting center mass (center of the box) as the highest percentage targets to render opponents ineffective. Recently, a former President survived an attempted assassination, possibly being lucky because the assassin chose a head shot instead of aiming for center mass.

In boxing as well, we sometimes move the opponent's guard in order to get access to the liver or spleen for body hits, or to either side of the jawline for head hits. If you examine the standard modern western boxing guard, it is designed to protect the four corners by using the elbows to protect the liver/spleen/floating ribs, the forearms to protect the plexus and the hands to protect the shoulder corners and head.

Going forward, when training, it may be useful to consider each technique for how it either protects our four corners or exposes them on our opponent. 

• Is it possible to be more compact and provide greater protection for our corners? What are the most efficient protections for our corners?
• Are there techniques and combinations that are effective for opening the corners of our opponent so we can get in? How can we best get past the opponent's guard?

Let me know what you think.

Train Hard.

Validation

 

Every human being has an innate need to be praised. Whether at work or at home or at the dojo, we all want those above us and around us to recognize our efforts and reassure us that we are doing the right things and doing well. We want to exceed expectations and overachieve our KPIs. We want to be promoted and make progress in our journeys, ascending to the next levels of our respective pyramids.

In our martial arts journeys, we grow as we rise through the ranks from belt to belt with our brothers and sisters, earning the respect of our peers as we (hopefully) pass each rank test and develop ourselves. We ultimately test for our red shirt (assistant instructor) and finally, our black shirt/black belt and join the heroes as a Guro (instructor). Hopefully this adds a new perspective as we share the responsibility for the subsequent generations of students we train.

For many of us, the need to move from milestone to milestone is a central aspect of our goal setting and goal achievement, not just in martial arts but in life. We seek quantifiable metrics to measure our success and expect to "keep doing more" at each subsequent stage as we build ourselves up in our careers and personal lives. Of course, advertising and media (social media) exploit this gamefication by appealing to the desperate need many of us have for MORE. We are enticed by more and bigger numbers for things like our job titles/number of staff in our orgs, bigger sales targets and achievements, more business travel miles, even annual overtime hours worked (sadly). 

We care about the numbers of our bank balance, the square footage of our house, the value of our investments, the grades of our children. We care about the hopefully decreasing score of our golf game or the hopefully increasing numbers of our kid's test scores... the numbers, and the validation associated with them, can be strong motivators for us. In the gym, we compare times on our runs or talk about how much weight we can lift or how many reps we can do. Crossfit is so popular partly because we can post about it on social media to make our audience see how good we are. We crave the validation and status that come from being considered "elite" or "platinum" or "diamond". Some people cannot resist putting capital letter abbreviations after their name on their business cards like MBA, CPA, CFA, etcetera. There is nothing wrong with celebrating our achievements, of course, unless we begin to obsess over them. I even know a few people who cannot resist posting photos from the first class lounge whenever they fly. They must really need to feel the envy of others.

Although we are aware of it, we seldom discuss the intangible or qualitative aspects of performance or improvement. The connection with a key client over a handshake, the development or recovery of an important business relationship, the trust of our colleagues and co-workers, the precious moments with our families, the video call to our parents, the taste of a home-cooked meal, the comfort of our own bed. Good sportsmanship is noticed and appreciated, but never to the same degree as the final scores themselves. In the dojo, we prepare for tests but rarely acknowledge the good progress we make from week to week, or reward ourselves for the diligence of our commitment. Attendance usually goes up just before selection and into the test review.

This year my teacher, Grandmaster Fred Evrard, died.

After several years of incredible bravery, he finally succumbed to cancer. He was a warrior, a Peaceful Warrior, in every sense of the word. There can never be a replacement for who he was or what he meant to me, since he and Kali Majapahit's co-founder, Guro Lila, are the main reasons why I ended up becoming a martial arts instructor. He personally tested me for all my teacher ranks, assistant instructor through 3rd degree black belt senior instructor, and I accept his judgement of my skills at each level.

Although in recent years, I didn't get to see him as much as before, I continued to learn so much from him through what he shared with me not just about martial arts but about philosophy and spirituality. His books were windows into the mind of someone who had dedicated every day of his life to The Path. They are treasures to me, and his life was a blessing. It's a devastating loss not just for me but for all of us. The world was far brighter with his light.

So what now?

Knowing he can never test me again means that I must of course accept the possibility that I will never again test for a higher black belt rank in Kali Majapahit. I'm OK with that.

For some people, taking away the goal (for me the next test would be 4th degree black belt) would weaken their motivation. They might seek another master or another system wherein they could be fed techniques and information and continue to be tested periodically. This validation would comfort them and help them stay focused on the next goal and the next after that. Some have already done that.

In my case, I don't feel a need to prove myself beyond what I have already done in Kali Majapahit. After 16 years, I feel I have achieved some limited understanding of what my teachers intended for me in this system, at least enough to continue my exploration without the need to be spoon-fed by anyone. I still love to learn and am grateful to be part of a community with so many advanced practitioners with whom to share and grow together. I am, and will continue to be, loyal to Kali Majapahit and our leadership for the trust they have placed in me to operate our group in Japan for the past 13 years and counting. The platform of Kali Majapahit is more than enough for me to continue my journey and keep giving back my research and findings to the group. I intend to continue teaching and carry on GM Fred's legacy as an honor to him for what this system has brought me. I think I would do so even if shipwrecked alone on a desert island.

The respect of my peers does indeed matter to me, and I think I have it. I don't feel any need to be called "Master" or have more stripes on my belt or anything like that. We have a wonderful global KM community at all levels, and I love seeing everyone and spending time training together now that COVID is over. I'm also grateful for the collaboration I have found with other schools and systems, sharing and learning together as part of our mutual journeys. Tested or not, I am learning and growing constantly, and that's what matters, right?

On the mats, as in life, I will continue to do my best - just as Guro Fred would have wanted.

   

Simple Maths

 

The Kali Majapahit curriculum is vast, incorporating empty hands (striking, kicking, locking, disarming, sweeping/throwing) as well as a wide variety of weapons (edged, pointed, impact, flexible, hybrid), not to mention the various subsystems which all move the body a bit differently. There's a lot to learn and a lot to remember. It would take years just to see it all, let alone become familiar with it or master it. After 16 years, I still have so much to explore and discover.

Sometimes students ask me to do a particular thing like knife disarming or karambit. Sometimes they want to do flexible weapons or single stick disarms. I smile to myself because in their minds these are all different sets of knowledge; discrete; separate; compartmentalized. Every technique to be understood one at a time. I no longer see them that way.

Let me explain.

These days I try to teach Kali Majapahit through a variety of templates. I have templates for the stickwork, the empty hands. There are foundation movements that are used across all FMA and these important sets are to be mastered since they have wide application and form the base of expression.

For example, Sinawali 6 is a basic template of six movements that is commonly used to train double stick manipulation. Learning it correctly builds coordination and timing, and the movements of sinawali 6 help us learn how to chain together various strikes and blocks using our sticks. However, as a template, sinawali 6 can be done with single stick, as espada y daga, using empty hands... Almost any technqiue in kadena de mano can be taught/learned/expressed using the sinawali 6 template. I can use it to teach flows in aikido, panantukan, silat, muay thai...Sinawali 6 concepts can be used to train the karambit, barong, sibat, bangkaw, sarong or any other tool.

How?? Just by using some simple maths.

The template is a baseline. A starting point from which things can be added or subtracted to change the experience. As per the example above, maybe as a variation I use two sticks of different lengths to do sinawali 6. Maybe I use espada y daga. Maybe I use a stick and a tomahawk. Or a karambit. Or even a screwdriver or dinner fork. It doesn't matter. It's all really the same.

In the example of sinawali 6, in addition to high/medium/low, we have various add-in movements to increase the difficulty of the pattern such as abanico, redondo (vertical or horizontal), dunga, doble doble, flips, twirls, fleuridas and so on. These additions extend the usability of the drill.

Maybe I use the hubud lubud template. Common as an empty hand drill, instead maybe I use it to practice knife versus knife. Maybe I explore it as empty hand versus knife. Or stick. Maybe I try hubud lubud as a double stick drill into a series of disarm flows. Hubud lubud is commonly trained from the angle 1 feed, however, there are variations for angle 2, angle 5, angle 6, and elbow striking, as well as low line interpretations. 

Maybe I use Cabca 1-8 or Sinawali 2-9 or Five Count Sumbrada or Punyo Sumbrada like that. Maybe I chain together different templates like five count sumbrada and punyo sumbrada to practice changing fighting distance from medio to corto and back. Maybe I use the sinawali 2-9 template and subtract the sticks so it is an empty hand drill instead. Maybe I take those concepts and apply them using the MMA gloves and mitts as part of panantukan. Maybe I am using sinawali 6 flows on my back against an opponent in the mount as part of my dumog or grappling training. The training opportunities are limitless.

As another variation, maybe I take a combination of strikes and kicks and I change the order of the sequences. If the kicks were last what if they were first? Could I make it work? If they were used in an offensive combination what if I used them as a defensive combination? What if I start to shuffle the order/placement of strikes and kicks? What happens then?

This simple math of adding or subtracting various elements allows me to use the same template in an almost unlimited set of ways. Having learned the basic movement of a template, I am then free to mix and match the concepts of it in any way I want, in order to get the deepest understanding and develop my muscle memory across a wide variety of scenarios.

To beginner students: consider each foundation drill as a template that teaches particular concepts. Do not be in a hurry to see the next technique. Spend enough time to fully understand the templates you are shown.

To intermediate students: Try adding/subtracting from the templates you already know. What changes? What stays the same? What awareness can each permutation bring? How can you solve for various scenarios of addition/subtraction in your templates?

To advanced students: Can you start to see the reusability of various templates and elements? Can you start to solve for changes to templates you already know? Or do you still need to be shown by the instructor? Are you using the templates for discovery and exploration? What are you learning?

To instructors: Variety is the spice of life. Changing the templates changes the context and perspective and can help students really get comfortable with the foundation movements of Kali Majapahit and how to use and combine them. This can add or reduce complexity according to students' abilities and progress.

Some key templates to be explored include:

• Cabca 1-8
• Sinawali 2-9
• Sinawali 6
• 6 count sumbrada
• 5 count sumbrada
• 4 count sumbrada
• 3 count sumbrada
• Punyo sumbrada
• Hubud Lubud
• Abecedario

What other templates do you know? Can you create some of your own?

Happy training!

The Deadly Shopping Bag

 

(thank you for the inspiration Guro Maul)

In our martial arts journey, there are sometimes "a-ha moments" - where a new insight is suddenly uncovered or an enlightenment reached. These are the best times and, hopefully, we never reach a level where this no longer happens. I've been in the martial arts for nearly 44 years, and this still happens for me regularly. I'm grateful.

Some weeks ago I was lucky to attend a weekend seminar by Cikgu Maul Mornie, one of the most famous proponents of Bruneian Silat, Silat Suffian Bella Diri (SSBD), during his visit to Tokyo. It was perhaps the 4th or 5th time I have been fortunate enough to train with him, and I learn so much in every seminar. Not only is he a world-class martial artist, he exemplifies what it means to be an authentic and genuine teacher, always open and willing to share his knowledge and answer questions. I consider him a great example of the caliber of person high-quality martial arts training is supposed to produce.

In addition to working on the basic movements of SSBD including footwork and blocks/strikes, on day 2 we spent time training flexible weapons (scarf). In Kali Majapahit we also train flexible weapons as part of our Silat subsystem, however I can safely say I am not a master of them yet. Guro Maul's method of teaching helped me tremendously. Thanks to him not only did I get a great chance to practice the techniques themselves, but I also was able to reorganize how I remember and present the techniques when I myself teach them. It made not only my skill, but my instruction much, much better.

However, one of the highlights of the weekend for me was when Guro Maul began demonstrating the scarf techniques with --- yes, you guessed it --- a plastic shopping bag! My jaw dropped. I did not expect that at all. It was fantastic.

In Kali, we consider our environment constantly in the context of improvised weapons or weapons of opportunity. In fact, it is a trademark of the Filipino Martial Arts (Bourne movies, anyone?). Back in 1986 or so, I had already had the opportunity to train with Kosho-Ryu Hanshi Bruce Juchnik in Westmont, IL for a seminar where he had us doing martial arts techniques with items from a standard Sears Craftsman household toolbox such as hammers, screwdrivers, saws and wrenches. This was a complete eye-opener and I have never forgotten the experience. It showed me that almost anything in our environment can be used as a self defense tool.

Within the category of flexible weapons, we often include items like belts, cords, cables, ropes, lengths of chain/bicycle locks or sports towels. However, using a plastic shopping bag simply had not occurred to me. I realized I need to recalibrate my awareness.

The plastic shopping bag is cheap, readily available, and extremely effective both for disarms and chokes/strangles. Genius! Now I always keep one of these in my pocket when I go out, knowing it may one day save my life or the life of someone else.

  

The Body - a Kali Majapahit user manual

 

Kali Majapahit is a very rich martial arts system. At its core it is Filipino but, as the name suggests, it is a comprehensive system that reflects a variety of Southeast Asian influences. These multiple subsystems were brought together by the founders, Punong Guro Fred Evrard and Guro Lila Evrard, to showcase and highlight their experiences of travelling the world for several years and training with a wide variety of masters from different styles. These included not only Filipino martial arts, but those of Southern China, Indonesia/Malaysia, Thailand and even Japan. In this regard, Kali Majapahit exemplifies the belief of Sigung Bruce Lee, founder of Jeet Kune Do, to "absorb what is useful".

Currently, Kali Majapahit includes among its subsystems Hakka Kuntao, Tai Chi, Indonesian/Malaysian Silat, Muay Thai/Muay Boran, JKD and even elements of Aikido and Jiu Jitsu. Many of the KM guros cross-train in other systems like BJJ as well. Over the course of the curriculum students would be exposed to western boxing/wrestling, kickboxing (Filipino, Western and Savate) and see a variety of weapon-based applications from all of these systems as well.

Not only does this make Kali Majapahit rich and diverse, it allows for a body of knowledge that can remain fresh and interesting for decades and present many opportunities for deep dives and extensive research. In my case, I've been studying intensely for 16 years and every year I feel like I have even more left to explore and discover.

The beauty of these many diverse subsystems lies not only in their cultural or historical value, but also in what we learn when we practice their techniques. Each subsystem moves in a very different way. Thus, to do the techniques of Hakka Kuntao correctly requires us to present the body in a very unique way - different to that of Muay Thai or Silat. This is by design. Each subsystem offers a different perspective and context on motion and how to maximize the use of the body to create the appropriate results. Even within seemingly similar domains, such as kicking, for example, we learn that a front kick in Muay Thai looks very different from the front kick of silat or Hakka Kuntao. In each technical category: strikes, kicks, locks/throws, weapons, every subsystem understands them uniquely and requires us to explore, discover and master a different way of using the body for the techniques to be correct.

A great example of this are the "animal styles" in Shaolin Kung Fu (also found in some silat systems). The practitioner is expected to move in a human approximation of the way each particular animal would move. At a high level of mastery, the master personifies the animal not just in their physical movements but also in their mental attitudes and strategy. This develops a deep awareness of how to use the body effectively under a wide variety of circumstances.   

Guro Fred used to explain that when doing any one of the subsystems, we should look like an expert in that art alone. Our entire attitude should change when we change subsystems. When boxing, we should move like a professional boxer; when doing Tai Chi we should flow like a tai chi master, etcetera. In our early days, we spend a lot of time focused on just trying to learn the mechanics of each technique in each subsystem, without necessarily recognizing and accepting that we must completely change the way we move our bodies in order to do those techniques properly. This then causes us to really understand elements like weight shifting, footwork, stance, posture, body mechanics and how to generate power. Each subsystem correctly solves for this equation in a different way, and that affords us a lot to investigate. 

For example, in Filipino Kali, we do not cross the feet when we move. However, in silat, this is extremely common footwork. In Muay Thai, we may fight with a long guard position of the hands, however in western boxing this is generally not used. There are many, many such apparent contradictions among the various subsystems, but this is by design. Not only does it form the foundation for discovering how to use the body in a variety of different ways effectively, it also insures that we do not subscribe to any "absolutes" in our training, and allow for the possibility of adaption to each unique situation we encounter. All that we ask is that when doing a technique from a particular subsystem, try to move the body according to how that subsystem dictates.

I'm very grateful to have such a rich tapestry of knowledge in Kali Majapahit. Guro Fred and Guro Lila have given us a very comprehensive framework that we can spend decades understanding. One of the keys is to examine carefully the way each subsystem carries the body and uses it. Make this part of the practice. As a result, you will look (and feel) more authentic in your movement and uncover even more knowledge about your amazing body and how to use it.

Pugay Po

    

Baking (and martial arts)

 

today's baguette

Many people started baking during COVID, as a consequence of being unable to go out or enjoy their usual preferred entertainment. I was a bit late to it, beginning my journey soon after the pandemic. I've been working on it for a couple of years now and it is a pastime that calms me and gives me a feeling of control, especially when my professional and personal life rarely offer me that.

I realized that my baking journey has a lot in common with my martial arts journey.

Practice Makes Perfect

I've been working on the humble baguette for more than a year. I'm sure I've made more than 100 loaves in that time; some good, some not. That journey has led me to the loaf above, which is just what I wanted. I knew it would take a lot of repetition to get consistently good results and I was prepared to put in the time and energy to develop my skill.

Process and Technique Matter

Breadmaking is a process that humans have been doing for probably 20,000 years or more. During that time, new tools  (like my KitchenAid stand-mixer) have been invented but the process is still basically the same. A great loaf of bread can still be made with no electrical tools at all. The technique would vary, but the basic process does not. I find this tradition comforting. Sometimes I knead by hand just because I enjoy it. I can never be too good at the fundamentals.

Enjoy the Trial and Error

I continue to research breadmaking constantly, seeking out and subscribing to skillful bakers who post explanatory videos on social media. I watch them all the time and adapt what I see to my own kitchen, oven size and goals. I have tried adjustments to every single step of the process so that I could understand what part each step plays in the overall success of the outcome. I've adjusted the hydration, the rising/resting times, the gluten development, the shaping, the scoring, the oven temperature, oven hydration, and more. Every test has taught me more about what works... and why. I've made a lot of mistakes along the way, but I know that's part of the learning process and I don't worry too much about it. I eat all the loaves anyway even if they're not perfect.

Good baking requires a good understanding of the science involved --- physics and chemistry. Leavened breads are a great way to understand how the ratios of ingredients, temperature and time work together to make something delicious. I really love learning why it works, rather than just repeating the steps from memory.

Every Time Is Different

I never get bored of baking because every time it's a little different. The recipes are guidelines rather than absolutes, and on any given day my kitchen is hotter or cooler (or more or less humid). Proofing times are never exact and great bread depends on the look and feel at the time. Like driving a car, baking requires micro adjustments each time to achieve what appear to be consistent results. There is as much art as science in baking.

Patience is Key

I am not a very patient person. However, in baking I have no choice. Rushing any of the steps ruins the end result. Each specific step is important and, while I can be organized and efficient, I cannot eliminate any of the steps (I tested!) nor can I reduce the times without affecting the end result. I must trust the process. 

Simple is Best/Authenticity Counts

There are some very complicated bread recipes, some that require a lot of time and effort and result in very complex artisan bread. Sourdough, brioche, babka, croissants - all delicious - require a lot of skill to bake and are impressive. I like baking baguettes because they are very, very simple. The only five ingredients are: flour, water, sugar, salt and yeast. To me, a great baguette is every bit as delicious as any complex artisan loaf and baguette baking requires its own particular skills. I love the authenticity of a simple, perfect baguette.

Buying In Like a Pro

At the beginning, I only spent money on the ingredients and I made do with whatever I had on hand. As time went on, my commitment to baking as a hobby grew and ultimately I decided to invest in some proper tools for improving the result of my product. I began to see myself as a baker rather than just a person trying to bake. I became more serious about my learning journey and more willing to embrace this as potentially a hobby I would continue indefinitely. I don't want to automate the whole thing (no bread machine for me) since the act of baking, and the learning associated with it, is more my focus than the bread itself. If it were just about the bread, I'd buy good loaves at any of the excellent bakeries nearby. I love the feel of accomplishment baking gives me.

Part of a Global Community

Before I started baking, I had no idea how passionate people are about bread. There are literally hundreds of thousands of people around the world who enjoy it as much as I do. Most are better than I am, which offers me a great opportunity to learn and grow. We send recipes and photos and encourage each other to improve. We discuss techniques and tools and engage in (sometimes heated debates) about the aspects of baking we think are important. Some are professionals; some, like me, are hobbyists. All are welcome to share our mutual enjoyment of baking. Sometimes our languages differ, but we find a way to connect and communicate. It's lovely.

Without being patronizing or heavy-handed, it's plain to see that baking and martial arts have a lot in common. I could just as easily been writing a post about martial arts practice instead of baking. Likewise I could be writing about photography or music or creative writing or rock climbing or surfing.

I hope you will consider the above for your own interests and hobbies and never be afraid to start new ones. You may surprise yourself with newfound energy and excitement. That's worth it, right?

See you on the mats (or by the oven) 

Compromising

 

When I was younger, I saw the world very starkly - black or white, right or wrong, good or evil. I conveniently put things into comfortable boxes, placing subjective judgments on everything and everyone, especially myself. As I got older, however, I began to see the world as a continuum, a series of curves with very few absolutes. In business, I began to learn advanced skills in selling and negotiating. My teachers began to coach me in how to see the perspectives of others and to apply active listening and seek solutions that were mutually beneficial. My martial arts studies explored the place of compassion and empathy in the Warrior Way.

For many things in life, the secret to happiness is compromise. Done is better than perfect. The 80% rule. Higher productivity equates to higher satisfaction. More is better.

However this is not always true. In our relationships, at home and at work, there are many times when we should reject compromise. We should seek absolute integrity from our leaders and partners, holding them to the highest ethical standards and always challenging them to be more about people than just profit. Our partners should genuinely care about our happiness and success.

In martial arts too, it is good to seek the best instructors with the highest commitment to quality and care for their students; teachers who are more committed to students learning than their own ego. Teachers who relentlessly grow and evolve with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge rather than staying anchored to the past. Preserving tradition and history is important, of course, but the focus should always be on helping students grow and improve faster/further.

I’ve been very fortunate to have been surrounded by the very best teachers, students, friends and partners throughout my life. It’s the cornerstone of my success.

Please never settle for less. Halfway might as well be no way. You deserve it all.

See you at class. 

Weathermen and Rainmakers

 

(Thanks for the inspiration PM)

One of my close friends just came back from an industry conference. It was a big, multi-day affair with "experts" flying in from around the world to give keynotes and host breakout sessions, sit on panels and otherwise enlighten everyone with their insights. I've attended countless such events in the past and even presented at a few. They are great places to gather info, network, catch up with old friends and share the excitement of the industry.

However, my friend framed it in a way that made a lot of sense (he's good that way) and I realized his categorization applies much more broadly. After watching dozens of speaker sessions, he concluded that those on stage fell into two categories: Weathermen and Rainmakers.

Weathermen were those who gave "market insights", "trend analysis", "forecasts" or otherwise spoke in industry jargon and buzzwords about topics that were clearly well outside their sphere of control or influence. For example, when a central banker opined about AI calling it "transformative" whilst at the same time not actually doing anything in that space or having any experience in it, we can only see him/her as a weatherman, discussing storm patterns and their implications while simultaneously being unable to do anything about it. These presentations are often very entertaining, with colorful slides, catchy tag lines and visuals with generalized predictions and hypotheses about the future. In lieu of other contents, they present historical analyses and discuss the causes and effects, knowing full well that these past results may yield insights but never actually guarantee any future outcomes. They may even cultivate a specific look or persona, and might have curated a robust presence on social media to substitute for their limited actual skills or knowledge. In the end, they are never more than a part of the scenery and soon to be forgotten. A careful eye can always see through their facade.

On the other hand, Rainmakers present quite differently. Their focus is on what they themselves are driving and achieving, the products they are bringing to market (and specific delivery dates), their product pipelines and investments, their calendars of events. Rather than vaporware, they tend to demo real end user scenarios and present real measurable values. They operate solidly in the realms of what they can control and what they can influence - delivering not only thought leadership but also compelling calls to action for other participants to get involved. They build consensus and help organize work into teams and streams so it can actually get done - finding ways of making the impossible possible. Rather than be satisfied with hypotheses about the future, they are out there shaping and creating it every day. When they are in the room, you can feel their vitality. 

In our own lives too, it is far better to be a rainmaker than a weatherman. We can do this by trying to keep our bias toward what we do as an extension of what we say, and to focus on what we can control or influence rather than just engaging in prolonged discussion of high-level academic topics. We can also continue to develop and hone our basic skills, since these are the building blocks of excellence. Preparing detailed task lists and meticulously executing on them with discipline is key to being a rainmaker. Making a habit of this will usually ensure you stay relevant to the matter in question and deliver results rather than just talk about someone else's.

In martial arts, too, there are plenty of weathermen. They are happy to opine endlessly about ki, or other esoteric topics and discuss advanced techniques, but under careful scrutiny are found to train very little and rarely work on their basics or fundamentals. They are often happy to invest lots of money on uniforms and equipment but less willing to invest in daily practice, which is the cornerstone of mastery. They have trouble developing or maintaining the habits of champions and easily find excuses to miss class or train at home and may only work when someone is watching. Their real progress is slow and their knowledge is shallow, since their actual investment of time and energy is minimal. 

Martial Arts, like Life, is not a spectator sport and the greatest joy we can find is in participation. To be clear, I am not advocating violence or conflict. Instead, I am saying that I believe good, daily, martial arts training is the best way we have to maintain our inner peace. By doing so, we inevitably contribute to outer peace in our families, workplaces, communities and society.

Don't let yourself be a weatherman when you can be a RAINMAKER!

I am forever grateful for the many Rainmakers, past and present, that have continued to challenge me to be my best self and to maintain my training no matter what.  Pugay Po!

See you at class.

Doubling Down

 

Here we are in a brand new cycle. Every three months in Kali Majapahit the curriculum changes. In general, during a cycle we will focus on either:

• Single or Double Sticks
• Empty Hand subsystem or other specialist weapon
• Boxing or Kickboxing

This time we will be working on double sticks. Sometimes I get asked "why double sticks? It's not useful..." Some students feel it is not as practical as single stick, with the logic that they are unlikely to have a pair of sticks handy at a time when they get attacked. Fair point. However, double sticks are worth far more in training than just their direct value in stick fighting self defense.

In modern combat sports, champions such as Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris, Joe Lewis and others pioneered the combination of western sports conditioning such as weight training and cardio to enhance their fighting performance. In no case did anyone challenge them by saying that lifting weights had no direct combat application. It was understood that improving the body's core strength, conditioning, flexibility, coordination and speed had overall performance benefits. Even the ancient Greeks knew this. Double sticks can be considered similarly in that although it may be highly unlikely for you to use double sticks in actual self defense situations, the training will improve your overall fighting skills in many other ways.

Double Sticks are training methodologies we use to deepen our coordination and dexterity. The drills work both symmetrically and asymmetrically to challenge us to learn to control our hands precisely across a variety of patterns. The drills of Inayan Escrima which are core to Kali Majapahit are designed to build from a foundation (Cabca) to more advanced drills (Sinawali)  that teach us to move weapons together or independently without interfering with each other. This skill, whether applied with double sticks, double swords, double daggers, or any other set of tools of any length makes it very difficult to defend. Especially for asymmetric movements in odd timing signatures, the defender will be very challenged to successfully block both hands across a full chain of attacks. As well, these drills help develop the ability to simultaneously defend and attack (often using one weapon for each) which is both efficient and highly effective.

Mastering double sticks requires deep focus and concentration to cement the muscle memory needed to execute the movements smoothly and at speed. The focus and concentration sharpened by this training enhances not just our other martial arts skills but also our performance in any other sport or physical activity.

In many traditional arts, dual wielding is not introduced until mid-level black belt rank (3rd dan black belt or higher). For FMA it is an essential skill that is part of even the beginner curriculum. Simple drills make great warm ups and can even be isometric training when done very slowly with heavy tools.

Below are common drills which are used to master double sticks. These can be adapted and/or combined with dynamic footwork and movement to increase difficulty. They can even be done in groups of three people to increase difficulty.

• Cabca 1-8 including ladders, one-hand principle, right/left principle, high/low principle, mirror principle
• Sinawali 2-9 including ladders, one-hand principle, right/left principle, high/low principle, mirror principle
• Sinawali 6 variations including abanico, redondo, dunga, doble doble
• 5 count sumbrada including free flow
• 4 count sumbrada including variations such as punyo strikes
• Hubud Lubud (including punyo sumbrada)

All of the above drills can be done with symmetric tools (such as two identical sticks, blades or nunchaku) as well as asymmetric tools such as espada y daga, stick and tomahawk, karambit and daga, etcetera.

I'm very excited for this cycle and the skills it can help us develop.

See you at class.