I know I've been writing a lot about martial arts these days. Yes, there are other things on my mind, but in my mind, budo contains the most relevant and sharable lessons.
Sometimes I wonder why budo has become such an important learning mechanism for me, and I realized this:
Martial arts teaches us the art of using force.
What I see in the world right now feels a lot like watching a bunch of fumbling white belts. People who don't understand their own power and can't control their own violence are often the only ones that seek (and therefore achieve) the most power.
As a result, everyone is getting hurt on accident.
I can't think of any other ways of learning how to use force out there today. So how is anyone supposed to understand the nuances around if we need to use force at all and how to use it minimally?
The anxious approach and the empty approach:
When practicing with a partner, less experienced ukes (student having the technique done to them) will often anticipate the technique. They will brace before the strike happens, or try to avoid pain in some other way.
But this is unrealistic. In a more free flowing situation where there is no set technique, they would have very little idea what the other person would do next, so anticipating the next move would only leave them dangerously open to something else.
When novice practitioners try to thwart the technique being practiced to avoid inevitable pain, they are filled with anxiety about the near future. They believe they know that they will be hit from the left side, so they scrunch up the left side and guard excessively.
The right side then, becomes open. Or they may have braced themselves so much for the left attack that their base is now unbalanced and can be easily thrown.
In this manner, when we bring our own assumptions and biases into the situation, we create our own downfall.
In addition, we do not allow our partners to train their technique if we are always trying to avoid the pain of having them done to us.
So we find that protecting the self and giving grace are actually very closely connected.
So how can we enter situations in our lives with less anxiety?
Three key points are important to understand:
1. There is no life without pain
I usually enter a new training situation with a deep breath. After a mind-clearing inhale, I attack on the exhale. And whatever pain comes, just comes.
There are instances where I fight back tears. I've been hit in the eye, busted a lip, and ended the night with bruised forearms from wrist to elbow. But I am absolutely certain that my partners did not mean me any harm.
(Of course, we do defend ourselves from accidents, like keeping our elbows bent so they don't actually hyperextend or keeping our mouths closed in case we get hit in the jaw, and knowing how to move and roll. The point is not to be a complete noodle, it is to simulate an attack from a stranger who might be trying to rob you and would not know what you would do next.)
Mild aches and pains are simply the cost of learning (and living). When we erroneously believe that a life without pain is possible, we are prone to more anxiety and mistakes. Understanding that we are in a learning environment and some pain is inevitable allows us to enter each situation with a more neutral approach.
2. Flow with it
If I get stomp kicked in the gut while training, the best thing for me to do is go with the direction of force. The impact of the kick then dissipates because I am not applying any force in the opposite direction.
In a different context: consider two cars facing one another. A collision will be much worse if they both drive towards each other rather than if one was driving in reverse.
Knowing how to let go of a resistance mindset and move with the flow of energy instead also helps to relieve anxiety.
3. Know how to get out when necessary
The very first skills we learn in budo are not attacks. They are fundamental basics on how to literally move our bodies. We learn how to stand, walk, and roll.
Without these basic skills, I would have a significant fear of getting thrown. I wouldn't know how to fall or get up safely, and would be likely to hurt myself.
So when it comes to approaching new situations with less anxiety, understanding how to fall (or fail) safely is the third key aspect to remember.
Conclusion:
When we approach situations with strong egos or previously held biases, we do not see reality clearly.
We do not give our fellow humans grace when we anxiously assume we will be attacked, and we do not defend ourselves properly when we become obsessed with resisting.
We make mistakes, miss opportunities, and live in a made-up anxious world instead of the real one right in front of us.
To approach a situation bravely is to approach it with emptiness.
It is to know that all things are possible and to have the flexibility to move with a multitude of outcomes.
Emptiness requires us to allow for the best in people even when they might do something hurtful. It means we must put down our pride and instead of impulsively and blindly resisting every force around us, learn to bend and dissipate that force. We must trust in (and actually have) the ability to fail safely and get up efficiently.
It's not easy. It's going to take diligence, training, and a great deal of love.
Can we do it?
No, we can’t achieve emptiness in the world because we all have biases and prejudices that are self defeating with selfish egos; however, in our microcosms (small circles of reality typically in physical interaction) of influence-yes. Emptiness is one of the Five Rings from Miyamoto Musashi, the only undefeated Samurai in (60 duels…1584-1645) with THE profound book. It’s the shortest chapter in the book and the hardest to attain. I actually have the 5 rings tattooed on my arms in color with intent for focus on daily emptiness and it’s a lot of work. Similar in kind of current popularity “be like water my friend”, Bruce Lee and in his daughter’s book by Shannon Lee.