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Windmills

Fight Diary

My Masters, All and None

I was first introduced to Boxing, Muay Thai, and various forms from different schools of martial arts at Team Kumbu. Kumbu was known by many names, 'the Leopard order', 'the little Dojo', but was affectionately named after its founder Mabika-Ki Kumbu. Coach was the son of a Congolese politician and founder of the National Alliance of Democrats for Reconstruction named Kumbu Ki-Lutete. Coach grew to be a recording artist, a trombone aficionado, and a professional animator. He worked on one of the greatest works of French animations known to humankind: Les Triplettes de Belleville. In third grade, my French teacher Monsieur Theillet pulled out a creaky trolley with a TV set on top and played us this masterpiece for the first time. Naturally, our gym became a watering hole for artists of all kinds, illustrators, recording artists, video game designers, singers, and urban landscape designers. Every one of them gathered for the love of the fight, every one of them an artist of motion in their own right. A lot of fighters from around the city were drawn to that, along with the heavy focus on sparring our Coach emphasized. From the Coach, the resident fighters, and the passersby alike, I learned a lot. Every person I fought had something to teach me, every fighter had their own arsenal, their own style, and experiences, it really was incredible. ​I also learned that no one can assist in my self-realization other than myself, all growth happens at the pace of my own willful and active agency.  In this diary, I will humbly report on what I learned from these fighters as well as my independent exploration into the philosophies of some of the best fighters of all time.  

Tourist, Fighter, but not a Boxer.

I am by no means a boxer. I fight, maybe, but a boxer is an incredible fighter who applies discipline to their practice to compete at the amateur or professional levels. I am at best a tourist in the world of martial arts that has taken on a martial way of curious experimentation and investigation into different schools of fighting. At heart, I love the fight, being put on the line with an objective, one that is part artistic and part scientific. The artistic objective is to meet my partner in the middle of the fight, to connect with them as humans despite the sledgehammers to the jaw. The scientific part is reigned indifference; it's aware of the necessary tools I need to develop or meet my needs in a fight, whether I need wider vision, need power, mobility, creative angles of entry, strategic and swift directions of exit, or even a more continuous transfer of weight in my movement. Reigned because the mind can be calculating, and insensitive, and must never prioritize its conceptual needs over the safety of our sparring partner. Reigned also because I know when it's time to think or prepare and I know when it's time to shut up, listen and feel rather than think. When you leap into a fight, or start gathering momentum in your motion, quieting the mind helps with acting spontaneously and without hesitation.

 

I kind of wish I was a boxer though, see all that ^^? That's all talk, words on a paper your body doesn't know how to execute unless they're drilled into your muscles, then your bones, and eventually, your spirit. As a tourist, avid researcher, and slightly experienced practitioner I get to learn freely about the principles of different schools of martial arts, of motion, and the phenomena of real, spirited, knuckle-swashing, skin-splintering, heart-embracing, playful, and at times compassionate fighting. The kind of fighting when two fighters surrender to the dance, listening to the music that moves and embraces both composers' notes, when they're vulnerable enough to listen to each other's rhythms and even tune into the same one. 

8 Centres of Power

A punch isn't solely a mechanical displacement of a fist towards a target in the shortest distance possible; a punch is a transfer of energy through your knuckles. The energy can travel from different sources, it can be borrowed from the ground, from our opponent, from gravity, or from our own biomechanical kinetic chains. This energy can animate a variety of tools, perceptual tools, striking, or swift footwork. The strength and agility of a punch don't follow from a fighter's muscle mass but from their efficient use of every lever and center of power available to them. Generating the power from our body is easy, getting the energy in our body to work together is hard. Much like a flowing river, different obstacles, and rigid obstructions will delay the stream. In our body, activating these 8 centers of power to generate the most biomechanical energy available to meet our balanced needs for strength and swiftness, is a good first step. An even better second step in practicing any single punch to allow the energy from these centers to flow continuously and synchronously through our body and into our opponent. In a typical and model straight punch the energy travels through 8 centers of power:

  1. The Ground

Newton's third law of motion dictates that every force is met with an equal and opposite reactive force. When your foot presses against the ground, the ground is pressing against your toe with the same force you offered it.

 

2. The Knee

This is more important in kicking martial arts for chambering, aiming, extending and retracting.

 

3. The Hip

If moving in synch with the rest of the body, this part of your kinetic chain oversees the largest transfers of energy.

 

4. The Shoulder

The handle of your sword, it swivels, rockets and protects. It takes in energy from exchanges and it releases that energy.

 

5. The Elbows

Especially critical in Muay Thai for elbow strikes and knife-wielding martial arts for tightening angles of slashes. They are also useful for overhands, piston punches, and other similar strikes. These types of punches require one to launch their energy through their shoulder and allow it to peak at the elbow as though giving an elbow strike. Instead of making contact with the elbow, however, we allow the energy to follow through down to the knuckles. Elbows allow us to borrow the force of gravity when used correctly.

 

6. The 3 chambers of a Hand

A swift, elastic punch catches itself at the point of impact. How a punch catches itself is of surprising and profound significance. There are three ways energy can be transferred from our hands (there are actually 18 but the relevant progression only requires 3 basic ones).

The first is the open-palmed strikes, eye jabs, karate chops, open-palmed

interceptions, parries, etc... Striking with the rigid tips of the fingers pressed

together and supported by our thumb can be quite effective.

 

The second is called a leopard paw or a tiger claw in animal kung fu. Folding our

hand at the middle knuckle, not fully closing our hand, but pressing our four fingers

and folding our thumb so that the hand looks like a leopard's paw (this hurts at first

but you get used to it). My first coach Mabika Ki Kumbu called his gym the leopard

order. In animal kung fu the leopard has a quick, precise way of fighting, leopards

intercept strikes and expose their opponent to more powerful closed-fisted blows.

 

The third way is your usual punch to the nose, closed-fisted. If you want this

punch to be both fast and powerful, you have to consider it to be a combination of

the first two strikes, or more aptly, their continuation. You can practice this

complete transfer of motion by repeatedly punching a surface (SOFTLY!!!) with your

fingertips, your middle knuckles, and then your closed fist; in succession until the

punch feels like folding your punch into the surface. If done correctly, it wouldn't

matter how hard you punch, if you fold it properly it should skip off the wall like a

pebble on a lake! Catching your punches with this underestimatedly important

progression in mind can really add a kick to them!

 

7. Your Chi. Your Life Force. Your Heartbeat. Your Fear & Fire. Your Love & Courage. Your internal fluidity. Your confidence even when it gives you access to the actual strength available to you. The point of a good punch is getting out of its way. It's weirdly hard to get all your energy out through the point of impact. Strength isn't about how big your muscles are, it's partly how much heart you have, and partly how efficiently you use your body mass and your kinetic chain to release every bit of energy available to you (usually by relaxing your body until the point of impact).

 

8. The Wei. The Tao of a fight will always be unique to the particular fight in question. The melodies in between the two musicians' improvised riffs, the poetry between the notes. Tuning into this rhythm that you and your partner are only a part of, this rhythm represents the same unified whole of a fight, and can only be practiced with a partner. From a birds-eye view, two fighters' actions, thoughts, and emotions are part of the same wei, along with the natural context the fighters convene in, the tao of a fight stands apart from and in combination of both fighters and their environment. Tuning into this tao can be of great help for anticipating incoming punches that arrive on beat, and by practicing the correct timing of launching or intercepting a punch. I suppose you could train your spiritual dispositions to be receptive to the wei; your attitude towards any fight, your openness to your opponent's rhythm, your own, your playfulness, and how light you are (on your feet and in your heart) can change a great deal in your capacity to fight.

 

9. I know I said there are 8, but the 9th is God. Every humble fighter knows that in a street fight, no rules or ropes, every person with two fists, a fiery heart, and a respectable mind has a fighting chance.

Soulful Music, Epistemic and Martial Harmony

It's common knowledge among musicians that emotional context is necessary when doing a piece of music justice. You can hear when a piano is played by mechanical hands and a clinical understanding of the notes. You can also feel it when a musician flies off their keyboard, hovers between the notes, feels and pours that feeling into their music. This applies to all sorts of instruments, pianos, bodies, and minds alike. Famously in the opening scene of Bruce Lee's Enter the Dragon, Bruce expresses the importance of feeling in combat rather than thinking, the importance of an emotional drive for your movements, and more importantly, the right kind of emotion. Anger, even sorrow, are ineffective sources of emotional intent in a fight that will have you either blinded by red frustration or lethargic at a blue and limp jab. Alternatively, clear, joyful love, the love of the fight itself, has the brilliant capacity of opening our hearts and eyes to the entirety of the visual and energetic environment. It opens our minds to intuitive and practiced cues for motion. Love relaxes your body enough so that neither your speed nor the singular and continuous expression of force that flows through your body when you fight, is interrupted. A little like when Harry Potter has to recall his bright and warm memories when conjuring a Patronus, Love allows us to let our spirit guide our spontaneous punches, to allow our punches to punch all by themselves.

 

Our minds and their dance with the different living intellects work similarly. Kant challenged the dogmatic and mechanical reduction of knowledge into unfeeling, unsynthesized pure reason. Curiosity needs the right kind of emotional context. Love drives inquiry forward in a way that is inclusive of our own intuitive or generated contributions, and to the other views that make up the dialectic landscape. Love makes it easier to tune into the poetry between the lines, to find comfort in the harmony of the epistemic notes rather than secluding ourselves in one dogmatic island or another, in the mind of one composer rather than that of the music. Love also makes it easier to be present with information, not retaliating nor reacting to it. It helps with rhythmic endurance as our task becomes a labor of love. It gives the most faithful representation of a natural world that was organized with beauty, balance, and love in Mind. Beauty is only visible to hearts who love. Only then can we find the beauty of a creation well-loved by its Artisan.

57 Lessons I learned from Boxing 

  1. Self-confidence and trust is everything 

  2. Theres a time for the engineer to understand and slow down the mechanics of a system, and a a time for the drive to flow. Prepare, but when you’re about to dive in, let go of all that you learned, and allow it to come with you as you meet the environment at its wave front 

  3. “You have to run like an idiot before you can run properly” - Ginga 

  4. You have to slow the world down before you can speed up 

  5. Flow like water float like the breeze!

  6. “Detatch your mind from your body” - Mandy 

  7. You have to “empty your cup” before you can let experience flow through you 

  8. In the moment, there is no “I” but ‘I’ nevertheless seeps through from its rightful place in the collection of All moments at the present’s gates 

  9. SubhanAllah, this Umma is awesome, a Home for weary muslims, an inspiration, brotherhood, and sisterhood in its own right 

  10. We’re all learning, so might as well help each other out and encourage each other for our brilliance 

  11. Don’t overthink when the only thing left to do is leap, and do. 

  12. It’s only when we acknowledge that we know nothing that we may be open to observing everything

  13. Always look in your opponents eyes and never let down, that’s the place you’ll find everything you need to know about their minds, hearts and bodies in this moment of engagement. 

  14. Everything demands the right amount of energy. Don’t overexert yourself for a task that doesnt demand it, and don’t stop your glove before it reaches its target. Be economic with your motion. 

  15. “Don’t give up on your flow” - Bader

  16. Reading your partners moves is good, but its not an adequate substitute for developing the reflexes and the heart to intercept punches on the fly 

  17. Every fighter has an arsenal, study it and its weaknesses in the first round. Every fighting stance is different, and each of them have a weakness that their strengths expose.

  18. A melody means nothing unless it has a tendency for finding harmony, or Home. Go back to centre and your readiness stance, but also study harmony in motion.

  19. Craftsmanship follows from creativity and ingenuity, and not the other way around. While it’s important to gather and develop our tools, build strong foundations and a good command of the basics, what is ‘possible’ in a fight means very little when our imaginations are limitless. 

  20. Imagine it. Visualize it. Apply it. Repeat it. 

  21. “Every punch radiates energy, throwing one and receiving one too.” every movement warps the space around it - Coach Mabika ~ This idea had me reflecting like crazy. Firstly, pain is often exaggerated by the lingering mind or by the suddenty of a punch. When something hits you, or someone hurts your heart for that matter, the physical instance of the collision emits its own radiation, for a certain perio of time, the pain is actual and physical. After our mind recognizes the instance of pain, if we don’t allow our awareness to absorb and expunge the pain like the tides of the ocean, the pain will linger mentally although its been weathered physically. When we obscure pain, we also mask the degree of its intensity. They say its the punches you don’t see that hurt the most, but if you brave the punch with your awareness, more times than not, it won’t be that bad. 

  22. The closer we can get to understanding our true names, our own personal nature, the nature of the environment we inhabit, the more responsive, in tune, and informed our interactions with life will be. 

  23. My calling isn’t the same thing as my purpose. My purpose will always be to primarily, and presently live my life, happily if I can. My calling however, is a distant star I’ve placed at the end of my horizon. It captures the unavoidable and perpetual growth that my mind, heart, soul, and deteriorating body are undergoing. Its the reason my soul chose to come back for one last hoora, other than Love to be honest. Every calling is individually unique.

  24. Your footing and the distance between you and your partner is so damn important. Understand their reach, and keep your head just out of it, contract when they expand, expand when they contract. Let your feet move to their rhythm when defending, then break that rhythm with your own. Float at the edge of your partners reach

  25. Flow isn’t about reaction. Reaction assumes there is no distinction between the environment, you and the fighter, or that you lack conscious awareness. In many ways, our goal is to approximate this oneness without sacrificing the fighter’s individuality, style, and unpredictability. In sync, but only by rhythmic choice. Reaction reduces us to cogs in a machine in which our actions are entirely dictated by the mechanisms arounds us. Don’t react, interact. 

  26. Understand where your opponent is going to be. Where do your attacks force them to move, where do their attacks force me to open up. 

  27. If you can know your partner and familiarize yourself with their repertoire, you’ll learn so much about yourself and about them 

  28. Your goal should just be conforming to a space, you should also be creating spaces, picking and prodding at your partner’s defenses while you create your opening. 

  29. Be fast, direct, efficient. Find the shortest distance for your strike. I used to think this distance was a straight line, but I’ve been shown some mathematical models that determine that the fastest trajectory between two points is actually a curve. 

  30. Slow down what you see with your eyes by widening your perceptive field, speed will follow. 

  31. Use your partners energy against them. Fon’t intercept their force with force, instead, redirect their blows so that all their power is drained by hitting air. Wing Chun employs an exercise called sticky hands that trains your sensuous awareness of your partners motion. It requires close to no energy to redirect the strongest punch in the world, but your sensibility to that incoming punch, the precision of your interception, the trajectory you redirect their punch towards, this all takes practice. 

  32. Don’t flinch, close your eyes or shy away from your partners punch. Stare into your partner’s soul, then stare through it. I’d rather eat SHIT then close my eyes at a partner’s incoming blow. A punch you can see, you can evade; if you flinch or close your eyes from their jab, there’s a shitload more punches where that came from, and every singly one of them will land if you shy away from them. 

  33. Just because you can think or imagine it, doesn’t always mean you can do it, and it rarely means you can do it well. Your body has a memory of its own, and intuition is a developed skill. Even if your mind remembers something in combat, doesn’t mean your body does as well. 

  34. “You can’t in anything in life unless you’re calm. You can’t reach anything your mind is set on it you’re stuck fighting yourself” - Christopher G, AKA Kris the $pirit

  35. In Avatar the last airbender, King Boomi tells Ang that there’s more to fighting than positive or negative jing. More than offense and defense, expansion or contraction, advancing or retreating. There’s also neutral jing. Neutral jing unifies these two poles of your fighting disposition. It involves floating, observing calmly, wondering with admiration, being present and aware. 

  36. Develop your spatial awareness. We can feel the motion of our bodies, anticipate it, without looking with my eyes. The hearts eye feels rhythm, it knows the space it sits in, and it feels others who occupy the same space. 

  37. Everything is novel, and the rest of Us are trees. 

  38. Don’t flow alone, flow together with your partner, at the point of coalescence. Take into account that you’re fighting a person, with intentions, quirks, a style, a skillset, a tell, a temperament. You can’t flow if you don’t acknowledge your partner as a fighter rather than an automaton.

  39.  Trust your intuition. Listen to your intuition. Act on your intuitions. Usually that is, if you have good reason to trust the care and training that went into developing your intuitions. 

  40. Don’t overexert yourself or underexert yourself. Be mindful with the your economy of motion and energy. Too much energy, unproductive or misplaced energy, is wasteful and leaves you open to unnecessary blows. We can expand, go on the offensive, turn the sandclock upside down and flow through our partner. Through their openings, opportunities found and created in motion, observant to the eventualities of where your positions leave you open. Underxerting ourselves has us retracting, falling into our opponents rhythms without beating our own with openings their attacks leave. 

  41. DON’T CLOSE YOUR DAMN EYES! If we close our eyes to their flurry of shots, stop listening, or worse yet, in our heads and our of the moment, we’re just bound to eat more shit. 

  42. Presence in a fight isn’t just about showing up. You can be present and passive or present and active. The moment isn’t solely comprised of ourselves, there are fists flying at your jaw, narrowing pupils telegraphic or misdirecting those shots, you have a ground vibrating every time we plunge the ball of our feet into their pivots, a gravitational force guiding falling fists and balls of feet downwards. Active presence is grounded in the senses and feeling the scene, so to speak. Awareness of the wind blowing past us as we slip a jab, a whistling in our ear as we near a thundering jab. Aware even of the waters, the partner you’re moving with. 

  43. You can’t dance alone; you’ll eat four knuckle-sandwhiches before you finish coordinating your mechanical and prodictably rigid moves. You have to surrender to your partner, accept them as they are and their role in this symphony yuo’re writing together. It takes two people to tango and a whollotta patience. 

  44. You have to surrender to a fight, accept that for the next few rounds you have no choice but to dance. See, what you’re surrendering to, the emotion you choose to fuel your fight matters. We need an intentional, volitional and emotive engine for our motion, we need heart. Learning to master our emotions with willpower is far more rewarding that emptying our hearts cold and fighting with clinical fists and impassionate violence. Apathy is far more harmeful to the heart than any concussion. While it’s up to every fighter to control the output of power from our fists in sparring, its also important for fighters to face, embrace, feel and overcome our hearts. In a real bout, or a fight on the street, our instinctive defense and offensive outpoors are mediated by the heart. In order to remain affectively sober and nevertheless sensuously engaged in a situation we gotta handle, we can either discipline the heart to subordinated to the will, or change your affective relation to a situation. If some asshole messes with your friends at a bar, you can either tell your heart to take a breather until you give it the go-ahead, or you can look at the asshole and see an misguided dumbass who should take hike before they gets rocked. So you fight best when you feel at ease and self-confident, which emotion you choose in your relation to the world is really important. You choose anger? You end up swinging widely and blindly straight into your unrelenting opponent’s canon to the nozzle. Sadness? Your arms won’t even leave your side. Love. that calm, gentle, wide-eyed and wondrous emotion will get you fighting with adaptability and receptivity to ever inch of your environment. What is there to love in a fight? Well the fight itself of course! There’s beauty in fighting, not in the accidental violence, but in the poetry of motion. You can also fight out of love of your sparring partner, your homie’s development as a fighter is so cool and beautiful to watch. Love isn’t about being admitted, appreciated or even about our partner loving this fight too. Love can be a powerfully dangerous force. When love seeks to protect a loved one, there’s very little that can stop them. Sometimes love loses itself after loosing a piece of itself. Love can be volatile if not taken seriously, or when its treated like a currency. Love is a powerful and formidable companion. 

  45. Be honest with yourself. There is no volitional amnesty from passivity. All our actions are ours, whether we recognize it as our own or not, they’re all ours. Either way, your mind can’t really hide something from itself without first being aware of what it is it’s hiding. It can thus be counterproductive to fool or doubt ourselves. Real growth always departs from the point of sincerity at the place we’re at, what skills, or roadwork, or diet we’re missing before we can work on these gaps. 

  46. Fighting with a partner you know, both rythmically, personally and in spirit, especially if you’ve been fighting with them for a long time, is beautiful man. You learn alot about who they essentially are, about who you are as well. Not just how they fight, but you notice little things. Their resolve to keep pushing, the find whispers of a recent heartbreak from the self-doubt in their hook, the weight of the things they’ve been through in their tolerance for pain, the signs of a date that’s gone well in the groove of their step. You have to accept and see your partner as they are in a fight (and in general), because otherwise, you end up with a sparked jaw and a flashback to the first time you caught a Growlithe in Pokemon Soul Silver. 

  47. Don’t get in your head about love, you don’t need to a reason to love or be loved, at least not without separating yourself from experiencing it in real time. 

  48. Make space for both your instruments and both conductors. When you do hat, the narrator of the fight reveals Itself along with the dissolvement of the illusion that there are two fighters there instead of one organism, one dance, a mutual and unavoidabily intimate dynamic. You cant leave the fight anymore than I can. I can’t stop dancing anymore than you can, I avoid, interact with, whatever you supply. I have to, otherwise I get clocked. There’s just one song, and if either composer alienate their co-composer, or even their own role in co-composing, the song will be abrupt and chaotic. Say your sentence in the context of the conversation, a good conversation requires being a good listener, a contributor in the conversation, inviting and leaving room for our partner’s input. In a fight, there’s a difference between not being afraid of your opponent, and losing respect or attention to the presence and force they bring with them. You’re two, but for this moment, if it’s beautiful or melodic, you have to accept your oneness. You, Your partner, the environment, you’re one. Allow yourself to float to that bird’s eye view of the melody as a whole. 

  49. Don’t float too far. This activity is demandingly physical, and a mind that has wandered too far from its body will lead it straight into a right hook. There’s a degree of surrender that the present demands when you aim to move harmonsiously with your body and your partner’s body. Your mind, body and heart, they have to move in the same direction, share the same goal, occupy the same space and time. Just one spirit, flowing like water through the arena. 

  50. A german philosopher called Herder believed our senses were by nature synesthetic. Everyone, to some degree, has synesthesia, a blending of the senses. Seeing sounds, hearing colors, experiencing the energetic world of affect and spirit as expressions of color we see through our eyes. He arrive at this claim by considering that only one spirit comprises us, one blend of living energy, and that what differentiated the experience of thoughts from feelings, minds or bodies, sight or hearing, our inquisitive souls from our appetites, was merely a matter of shifts in the octave of the spiritual stuff that these thoughts or affects were composed of. It’s hard enough to have unity in our souls psychologically, to accept every part of us as being a contributor to who we are in our entirety, in our wholeness. All our pre-reflective experiences and character, our reflective minds too, open to our awareness, all floating in the same blob of energy. 

  51. Don’t rely solely on your eyes to see, there’es much more going on in a fight than what your eyes can see. The fight has a rhythm you can hear, anticipate and contribute to. 

  52. Leave your ego in a glass house, you can’t learn anything new with an inflated ego, you can’t access all your skillset with a deflated ego. Humble your ego, but don’t lose confidence in yourself, nor your unique style. You box better when you’re having fun! The Bear brought in his daughters and their friend after school to box. I learned that I learn so much more from kids than I do from adults sometimes. Their adaptability to whatever the world throws at them, their complete and loving surrender to a moment they regard with awe, experimental play, and discovery of their own power. They’re wise enough to realize that this power is just a puzzle piece in a much igger and brighter world subhanAllah. There’s always someone bigger, or stronger, faster, smarter, so getting bogged down in who’s bigger stronger faster smarter, more righteous even, is wack, and a dumb move. You close yourself off from all that these brilliant and incredible people have to teach you. There is apiece of the Truth in everyone, there are fragments of the ‘Truth’ in every fading moment and every nook and cranny of the universe. Point is, I kicked that 9 year old girl’s ass, but in the joy of the moment we both learned alot. When you work with the moment instead of against it, which is alot easier said than done in a fight, you’re open to more imformatino, the intentions of their eyes, the sway of their shoulders, whether they’re loading up for power. You see opportunities instead of problems, every punch is an opening and every breath a note. God bless the wide-eyed children in all of us.

  53. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. Your motion ought to combine the elasticity of a chain and the firmness of a fist catching itself at the point of impact.

  54. ​Identify your angles of entry, your opportunities and ALWAYS keep in mind your exit, if you know where you left yourself open, you’re also just baited a punch you can now expect you’ll need to evade. 

  55. Even when you’re defending, defend on your own terms, bait the punches you wish to evade, invite their attack knowing very well the opportunities of attacks you’ve left for them. When you’re tired tho, maybe shell and parry up. But imo it’s alot more important to know how to defend yourself than to attack.

  56. Every single person, every fighter, if they wish to be ‘masters’ of their craft someday when they’re old and grey, needs to explore their own personal martial evolution. We must learn all the basics, pick up new tools, new punches, stances, evasions, learn from all and every master. But ultimately, your body, your mind, your soul and the art you leave on the canvas as you move, they have a spirit of their own. You have to develop the style most suited to your body, mind and soul, what you take martial arts to mean to you, what principles you structure your motion with. You gotta experiment, learn far and wide to truely know if something is for your or nah. Different tools will be more or less effective for you than others, and this will differ from person to person. Developing your own unique and maximally effective, constructively testing and refining these techniques, is far more rewarding than subscribing to some martial arts system and rigidly comply with its doctrines; no one’s way of martial arts is universally applicable or ideal. Doing your own thing is important yeah, but you know what’s even more important sometimes, learning the basics, learning and relearning them, again and again, strengthening and refining your tools, your form, and making this process your own through the discoveries you make along the way. Draw from all sources of knowledge. 

  57. Combinations building experimentation

    1. Build from mid-transfer of momentum

    2. Try a wide stance for offensive positions, then narrow stance for evasive positions, throw in shots in both stances. Wide stance is grounded, you can dig for more power from the ground, wider range of hips and shoulder rotations. Narrow stance if more versatile, lighter on its feet, quick evasive maneuvers, more agile and more options on entry and exit. I should be able to throw punches and be mobile in both stances. 

    3. 3, 8, 3B, 6

    4. Build from an evasive slip or weave, or even an interception!!

    5. Realistic shadow boxing against a living shadow. Like Baki or Hajje Ino Ipo

    6. When you punch with a cross, transfer your weight to an alternate foot. The transfer of momentum should ideally not stop until the bell rings. Transfer the weight towards the foot alternating the side your’re punching from, move with it, you feel that? That new well of power can either be used to load up a power shot, or evade effectively to your new angle. 

    7. Play around the horizontal and vertical ‘bopping’, if you get me. Russian boxing is alot of vertical motion, back and forth, feel out and time your entry past the opponents guard or exit from the scope of their reach. Mexican boxing has alot more horizontal motion, side to side; Mike Tyson is the exaggerated version of this but they play more with lateral transfers of motion between their feet, they slip alot, they remain in a compact power position and select power punches from the readily accessible power in the foot where their weight is resting on.

  58. It’s good to have many tools to meet the many different challenges of a fight, but don’t be a bag of tricks! Your tools serve you, and your immediate needs. You’re always more than the sum total of your tools, you’re the one commanding or refining them. Like Bruce says, it’s better to have one kick you practiced 10,000 times than to know 10,000 kicks you’ve practiced once 

  59. ‘Speed’ is illusory. Appearing fast involves slowing our perception of our opponent down. Even faster than that is anticipating our opponent’s moves either by confining the choices of strikes they have by positioning ourselves in our chosen zone of evasion; or by learning rhythmic cues for our opponents in the melodies we create with our strikes. Truth is a sound, it’s no different when two fighters surrender to the rhythm they co-author in the moment and the ring they fight in. Leaving the appropriate space in the melodies for your partner’s offensive or counter-offensive contributions while you are on the offensive makes it easier to anticipate your partner’s strikes and dodge them swiftly. Even faster than tuning into the rhythm of the fight, the melody between both your notes, is a refined version of slowing your vision down so that you can fit more motion in a shorter window of time in visual space. This requires an especially fine-tuned sensitivity to the passage of time (really space-time, it wouldn’t make sense to separate them here). Lee’s way of the intercepting fist is deceivingly simple. In order to intercept a fist or a kick, its trajectory, its precision, for the signal to travel from your brain down to your hand, then for your hand to meet the incoming projectile, has to be ‘less’ than the time it took for your opponent to throw their punch. Sounds impossible right? But parying, intercepting, and even trapping, are common tools in a material artist’s toolbox.

Bruce Lee's Stages of Cultivation

Preface: The internal life of the Mind requires quiet patience. A boxer will practice the same punch 100 times and each time may feel a slight difference, the hip moved first, the front two knuckles connected, boxers listen to their body to refine a punch that every rookie boxer learns on their first day. What distinguishes a beginner’s jab from a pro fighter’s jab is not solely how many times they practiced it, but also the intention they practiced their jabs with. A good jab is the product of experimentation, of tweaking and trying out the different ways our body can produce a jab, and adopting the jab that is most suited to their body and style of fighting. A good jab also allows the willed force of the fighter to flow uninterruptedly through the fibers of their muscles. The Mind too benefits from being heard with intentful awareness, experimentation with the tools everyone learns in pre-school, and surrendering to the uninterrupted flow of energy through the network of one’s Mind.

* Any quotes and thoughts of Bruce's are from his daughter Shannon Lee's book 'Be Water, My Friend'. Highly recommended to any student of life. I included page numbers on occasions, got lazy on others. In any case, hers is one of those books you need to read from cover to cover to really benefit from its contents. The journey of reading it whole has more to teach us than snippets of Bruce's thoughts taken as ends in themselves. 

Bruce Lee’s Stages of Cultivation 

  1. Partiality 

  2. Fluidity 

  3. Emptiness 

 

  1. Partiality or The ‘Running to Extremes’

Bruce cultivated his intellectual practice in parallel to his martial evolution. Yin & Yang could represent the internal balance between the two poles of our being, our own push & pull, reflective and pre-reflective mind, I suspect also the two sides of all our parts as well, hearts and spirit. Yin & Yang could also represent a balance between a Self and the World, Place, Time, the ecology that surrounds us. Balance could also be found between a fighter and their opponent, their partner in a larger symphony, accounting for both our offensive and defensive roles when engaged in combat. Partiality is when we’re run by unconscious and impulsive drives for motion. We cycle and jump from Yin to Yang, still contained within the innerchosm of the Self. We’re good and villainize the bad, or bad and infantize the good, we’re right or wrong; reason and understanding are yet to be engaged. Here a fighter would throw a punch with “inexperienced, uncontrolled wildness to it; there’s no technique, no skill. This stage is represented by a fragmented Yin & Yang symbol with no inner relatedness…”

 

Because we’re stuck seeking our Selves here, in our internal lives, in our lives with others, there’s “no awareness when it comes to thoughts, emotions, and actions.” We’re reactive to our environment and lack inner autonomy. When Yin & Yang are fragmented Yin seeks to establish and verify its existence through the anti-thesis of Yang, and similarly, Yang will seek to find its place in the conquest of Yin. We self-destructively seek the other. So good is good and bad is bad, there’s no mixing them, and our reactions to our opposites will be impulsive and knee-jerky. You disagree with me? Too bad you’re wrong! You’re not on my side? Oh then you must be against me. Shannon Lee says “we fail to see the other side, any other experience, or any other way.” We view our experience from the narrow lens of our sometimes inclusive interests, and neglect that other people have wholeass other lives, entirely different experiences, beliefs, views and feelings that don’t have to be in accord with our own to be part of the living fabric of Reality. We’re unaware of the “blocks within ourselves that are keeping us trapped in behavioral patterns”. We’re not grounded or rooted. 

 

2. Fluidity or ‘The two halves of one whole’

Once we acknowledge our incompleteness, all that we have yet to learn and experience, we start working on ourselves. Here we become an agent in our own life and experience a “budding conscious awareness”. In martial arts, our initial concept and idea of a punch is now grounded in the actual experience and understanding of a punch. We might notice our hips swiveling, the balls of our rear foot lifting and twisting to give way to our hip’s extension, we feel our shoulder launching, and the energy moving through the fibers of our muscles down to the tip of the knuckle and through our opponent's chest. A good punch requires an awareness of the body producing it, a naturalistic presence with the senses that experience the improv jazz your partner and you are making. We’re present with our environment, the people in it, the circumstances we’re presented with and we accept them as they are. The world is as it is, the punches flying towards us are there, they’re coming and we have no control over the set of circumstances we are insisted on to surrender to. When we come across a door we’d like to cross, and we land on the wrong key in our key chain, it would be foolish to try to change the lock rather than the key we tried opening it with. Similarly, changing the circumstances and all those who inhabit it, rather than our approach to them is just as ridiculous. Fighting or escaping our circumstances doesn’t work or feel nearly as good as working with our circumstances. 

 

Bruce’s symbol for this stage is the complete Yin & Yang, the light with the dark at the center, the dark with light at its center, circling one another. This stage is no longer restricted to the still and rigid concepts of good and bad, rather, good & bad are represented as dynamic and interdependent, they’re situated in a living and active interplay of the two complementary forces (173). “In this stage, we are open and engaged in learning and bettering ourselves. We see that harnessing our potential is achievable, albeit both exciting and terrifying.” Can you imagine that, for your potential, the responsibility and limitless capacity of your faculty for choice, to get you shaking at the edge of your seat before you go out there and make it actual, achieve your goal and work on your dreams? A force of nature so powerful, so unrestricted, choice gave humankind the capacity to liberate or enslave themselves, to build new worlds of care and commune, to burn others to ashes, to create or destroy, to love or hate, to live or to envy the grave. Choice is a trust given to us from a time long before this life, a responsibility to be free and to use that freedom wisely. No wonder Shannon described our potential as terrifying, what an awesome gift and curse if misused in one’s lifetime. 

 

In our experience of fluidity the pollutants of our being become apparent to us, we run into blocks. Mental blocks interrupting the fluidity of our minds, and emotional blocks getting in the way of the rivers of the Heart. We deal with each kind of pollutant differently, untangle mental knots with common sense, apply care to emotional wounds or hangups. We actively respond to these blocks by addressing the behavioral patterns, learning from them, and practicing our growth through the disentangled knots that interrupted our fluidity of conscious awareness. What were once moments of fluidity become a perception that “fluidity is a possibility, and balance and wholeness become real objectives because we see the results of our awareness and our effort.” Our commitment to understanding our Selves whole, includes understanding the areas we lack resolve in, and the need to address and work on them. We view these challenges as part of a larger process of improving our quality of Life our sense of attunement and our understanding of our needs, our unique selfhood, and dreams. Naturally, this humbling process requires us to acknowledge what we don't know and how our suffering shaped or held us back, before we strive to bridge the mystery of the unknown and apply care to the healing wound. Humility has a beautiful way of extending into compassion for others’ own processes of growth and learning. Accepting our own shortcomings is a cool reminder to tend to our own backyard before judging anyone else’s. We all become collective members of a human race each tending to our own individual bit of suffering, growth, joy, and all-encompassing life, we see our own struggles, and our overcoming them, we develop compassion for other people’s struggles and plights through theirs. Bruce and the rest of humanity find themselves in and out of fluidity at different stages in our lives. Bruce divided after the fight in Oakland to literally etch his commitments to consciously aware fluidity in stone. Fluidity within his internal being, and with the world circumstances around him, within his martial and creative craft too. This conscious decision led to the development of the art of Jeet-kun-do, he commissioned a grave to be engraved by his former student George Lee with the following:

 

“In memory of a once fluid man crammed and distorted by the classical mess.”

 

Commitment to moving through this life awake, aware, moving constantly forward and upward can open a world of horizons that one dare not even imagine. Bruce “started to tinker and express and reach”, he developed his understanding skill, had no masters and thus learned from all masters and applied these teachings to his life. We’ve overcome the existentialist hump of meaningless existence by launching in Kierkekardian fashion on a lifetime of intentional and daring self-actualization. Fluidity opens our awareness to the vast expanse of views, feelings, and ideas that are not our own, we’re open to observing them, coexisting with them without fearing the annihilation of our beliefs or the eclipsing of our feelings. One time a physics Ph.D. student came into the restaurant where I worked and I weighed his table. He launched off on the coolest discussion of his thesis on quantum computing using elements that change states at room temperatures in an effort to get around the super-cooling requirement. Point is he asked me if I’m keeping up, I replied that “I can observe what he says, appreciate it and engage with it, but I couldn’t reconstruct it.” Fluid curiosity, uninhibited by the presupposition of knowledge, is just observation, its clear surrender to the story told by its storyteller. Fluid listening for example, takes a clear focus, an outward disposition to be beside one’s self when listening intently to something bigger than You. Challenges no longer become problems because “there is not only one solution to every problem” anymore. To be fluid is also to have access to the entirety of one's being, at least after a while of swimming in our own skin, we can then “engage our many tools and develop more.” Shannon says we become more creative and expressive, “we learn to accept the ever-changing nature of life and to work with rather than against it.” 

 

Fluidity and spiritual maturity aren’t solely resolved through daring challenges, by taunting a defying stare at the forces that Be and put us here, we don’t have to be Bruce Lee to be free, alive, aware, awake and fluidly navigating our circumstances on our way to our future. Taking ownership over one’s freedom and life is a daunting, but rewarding path. The highest abbots in Tibet know that when the Buddha came out of a 49-day-long fast and meditation, his enlightened smile dropped its shoulders and asked for a meal. Life doesn’t have to be lived in pursuit of something as misleading as the word enlightenment, some final destination, ultimate state of being. The Light of Reality is all-encompassing, how long we stay in the light, or move in view of its principles is a matter of personal conviction. Life doesn't have to be lived for some heroic journey to redeem and free yourself from chains you anchor to your own legs, not when freedom is an inescapable truth of our being. What happens when we relinquish any attempt at establishing some conceptual, rigid and still construction of selfhood? We recognize the self-nihilating nature of a free self, in considering the self to be no-thing, at once we identify selfhood with everything, and we take on the responsibility of settling into the fleeting disappearance of every past version of our selves, and of creating one’s self in the dynamic unfolding of our lives within the unending passage of time. This brings us to the third stage of cultivation 

 

3. Emptiness or the formless form

Bruce called this third stage the Living Void, “or the formless form.” Here your reflective and pre-reflective mind have been well acquainted by your awareness, Your conscious and unconscious being are considered and engaged with as parts of a dynamic whole. In parallel to the martial arts analogy, a punch reverts back to the instinctive punch of the beginner; except with the added benefits of the stage of fluidity that gained skillful experience in understanding the reason and poetry of how a punch works. This is like Hegel’s initial shape of consciousness, sense-certainty, the unified experience with the world in the naturalistic present, eventually coming back around through a series of dialectic progressions of consciousness and Spirit. Back around to sense-certainty at a higher octave after consciousness gained the experiences of perception, identity over time, reason, the engagement of the understanding, and self-consciousness, of itself as ‘I’, and of itself as spirit all along. In the end, consciousness returns to where it began, as a wide-eyed child looking at the world in the living and present moment, through the entirety of our being and the experience we still lacked when we were snot-nosed shitheads with no social cues. It comes back around with the wisdom it gained before it was ready to experience the world in its most simple, bare and vulnerable form; a formless form ready to be molded at the wish of a willing glance, molded to meet the necessities of the moment, the opportunities, obstacles, and general life of a unified heart. No wonder Bruce tinkered all the time, with his gleeful enthusiasm and determination to solve the next problem, untangle the next Gordian knot. And then live it, truthfully…

 

I think it's important to note here that the experience of the living void isn't observant only to wisdom’s unification of the conscious and unconscious mind as the same whole, but also the unification of the Heart through the loving feat of reconciling both its halves. The first half is the pulsating propensity of naive hearts to rejoin the oneness of the Heart that contains them, the womb that surrounds them, it's our hearts counting down towards Death. The second half is the indomitable urge to protect the living flames we call love, to ensure this heart, and the hearts of our people keep beating, that we survive this fickle life, that we make it through at the end of the day above the thick mud and get to look up at the stars; it's our Hearts beating for Life. The urge to rejoin the Hearts that we find our love entwined with, is an urge to burn in the forge of creation, an urge to destroy or create one'self, to fly through the Sun to reach heaven, it is the call of our spirits for freedom through nihilation. The urge to secure our basic needs, to survive, us and our people, is most genuinely, a desire to protect whom we love from this material Dunya. We have to be true to both aspects of our hearts to truly surrender to the living void, the part that wants to fade in the embrace of love, and the part that wants to survive the erasure of its individuality, to simply live. 

 

So! The punch here returns to be a plain old punch, except the difference between this punch and a beginner’s punch is that it's jampacked with experience, and is “at once skillful and spontaneous.” The spontaneity of the punch here is important, in the heart of battle you don’t have time to think and engage in an inner monologue to come up with the solution, a warrior that surrenders to their formless form, feels with their mind, is so deeply immersed in the moment, their senses so well acquainted and familiar with the circumstances presented to them, that suggestions from environmental cues or objects immersed in this world that is at once intelligible and sensuous, present themselves, or more accurately, are synthesized by the fluid and immersed mind’s receptivity to recognized patterns of rational design. 17th-century samurai Miyamoto Musashi wrote in the Book of Five Rings the following passage that Lee takes to be representative of the living void:

 

“His plan came to him like a flash of light, it was not readied out by the theories of the Art of War, which constituted the fiber of the trained warrior's intuition. To reason out a mode of attack was a dilatory process, often resulting in defeat in situations where speed was of the essence. The warrior’s instinct was not to be confused with animal instinct. Like a visceral reaction, it came from a combination of wisdom and discipline. It was an ultimate reasoning that went beyond reason, the ability to make the right move in a split second without going through the process of thinking.”

 

Sounds familiar? That’s because most people experience a form of this in their respective crafts. Those choices we make in a state of flow aren’t reasoned out by inner dialogue, they come out of a spontaneous and well-trained intuition. This kind of effortless effort is an example of Lee’s principle that “the height of technique is to have no technique” (175). Intuition has to not only be refined by experience and knowledge, but it also has to be situated in the moment, the present that the world’s circumstances unfold in. The intuition is spontaneous, a suggestion perhaps of the unconscious part of your mind that is unified in its pursuit of a solution to the problem its reflective counterpart of the mind is facing. The warrior’s instinct is distinguished from the animalistic instinct, this intuition isn’t an impulse or reactive kneejerk to the environment we relate to mechanically, but rather the warrior’s instinct is trained, autonomous and uniquely creative. In a similar way, when we say follow your Heart, it doesn't mean go collapse into a hedonistic pursuit of your pleasures, but rather, listen to the moderation and balance of the place your heart was born, the place it rejoins the rest of creation from. There’s some beautiful wisdom that is readily shared from listening to all it has gone through. Our hearts aren’t merely appetitive, they also tether us to the living fabric of our world. Miyamoto’s intuition came from a palace of “wisdom and discipline”, “beyond reason”, I suspect consciousness was momentarily drawing on an intelligible substrate it finds itself unified with, consciousness co-authors this intuition with the ‘meaning-full’ world. 

 

This intuition “emerges from the void, where there is no I and there is no opponent. There is only the totality of what is and what happens in response to what is. In other words, it hits all by itself. This is the ultimate in water level mastery.” (175)

 

Notice how she says “in water” and not just “as water.” Bruce famously said be water my friend, this third stage suggests another part of this quote, be in water as well. In Heidegger’s Being in Time he argues that Dasein is the untranslatable German word that describes being as it figures naturally and dynamically in an ecosystem of time, space, and other beings. Being, or Dasein, the whole and dynamic being of individuals, finds itself in an ecosystem of meaning. We find ourselves enmeshed in the historical context of humanity, taking up the history that has shaped the present moment. We also find ourselves in space, in self-sufficient worlds of meaning we navigate when forming our own. This world and our participation in it, inform the ideologies, thoughts, and paradigms we engage with. The civil and natural worlds are in constant conversation with us. In the 70s at the height of the Cold War era, the US and USSR were finding any grounds to battle on. One of these stages was architectural export. The US and Soviet Union competed over the urban landscapes of foreign cities as a way of packaging their respective ideologies in the walls they planted abroad. American modernity took the architectural form of mass developments for the middle class, homes filled with common space, located in suburbia where community engagement is encouraged by the mere architecture they live their lives in. This meaning embedded in the structures of American homes espoused liberal and democratic ideologies valuing “family, anti-communism, individualism and democracy” (Faulks 2). Before the wall fell, West Berlin was filled with American architect Gropius’ designs and Western liberal preferences for meaning-making. The Dessau Torten housing estate was a suburbia, it incorporated classical liberal economic ideologies in the architectural makeup of these homes aimed at housing families in good homes with increased standards of living and the capitalist promise of upward mobility for the lower and middle classes. Contrastingly, East Berlin imported the Leninist communist strain of architectural modernity. The point is, that your environment and the senses you engage it with, informs the world you create meaning with. You can localize this ‘world’ to the immediate sphere you found yourself in, but our realities are always contextualized within a history of self and communal realization, and we bring this context everywhere as we aim to the future. 

 

So when consciousness sets itself outwards, at this stage of maturity as a formless form in a living void, as the emergent state of consciousness into the world that emerges neither from your internal life, nor the external form we occupy in relation to others, but rather from no-thingness, from the gap in between our internal and external worlds. Lee states that at this stage “you are unlimited. You stand at the center point of possibility to move in any direction. This is no longer a tactical readiness but rather total awareness with instantaneous expression” (176). It seems we’re firstly grounded, present, aware, empty of mind and heart, but nevertheless aware; reduced to our most simple, and basic component: “I am.” Our mere existence, without any accolades, any possession, attachment, we’re still water. We begin aware, inwardly, then we turn outwards to the time and place we find ourselves in. It takes a certain courage to be present with the entirety of the encompassing moment, to be “totally aware”. The moment we experience is just as known to us as it is unknown, it can be grand and overwhelming, you could be facing down an Armada of Extraterrestrials or a furious Arab Mom, and yet to remain still within this context, accepting your circumstances as they are and our being nevertheless, is a lot harder than it sounds. That's not even the impressive part of emptiness, the reduction of our ecosystem to its bare, essential and simple components, the cool part is the following “instantaneous expression.” It’s one thing to find stillness within, to feel the currents of our own mind, heart and spirit, for fighters this is like allowing the singular fluid expression of force that flows through your body when shadowboxing, to find its natural sequence of motion. It's another thing entirely to find balance and fluidity with a partner, to move fluidly with an opponent, or even the moment and circumstances we find ourselves in. To surrender to the moment that is bigger than you, to come out of your Self and meet your partner in the middle, in the moment that houses you both. A lot of interesting things can happen in this space between spaces when your partner and you become co-authors of the same song. 

Emptiness and the 5 Elements of Nature

Emptiness: Continuation

"One can never be master of his technical knowledge unless all his psychic hindrances are removed and he can keep the mind in the state of fluidity, ever purged of whatever technique he has obtained - with non-conscious effort." - Bruce Lee

 

"Being wise in gung fu does not mean adding more but being able to remove sophistication and ornamentation and be simply simple - like a sculptor building a statue not by adding, but by hacking away the unessential so that the truth will be revealed unobstructed." - BL

 

SO, bridging the gap and ‘simplicity’ what are they? Before answering this question it’s important to state that we don’t gain wholeness by fragmenting our being into parts we need to secure and fit together before feeling the unifying glue that holds our parts together. We don’t feel whole by putting ourselves together piece by piece, we put our pieces together by first feeling whole. If enlightenment was a real destination it wouldn't come bearing the gift of love, instead love is what brings forth 'enlightenment'. But we’ll get back to this when speaking of simplicity. 

 

In martial arts, the gap is “the space between you and your target or opponent.” Whoever can bridge the gap most effectively can set the tone and rhythm of the fight. There’s also another gap that needs to be bridged before we’re ready to fight, the gap between our own movements has to be bridged “in order to achieve oneness of movement and true flow” according to Bruce. We must learn how to flow as a single wave first, allowing our motion to be continuous and naturally progressive without putting any full stops on the sentence of our motion. When people first start fighting it can be very robotic, our movements are analog, we function in a binary of punches and pauses, movement and stillness, attack and defense. We hold each of these to be separate and fail to string together our motion fluidly. With time and awareness of how force moves through our bodies we start realizing that an overhand isn’t only an overhand, it’s a transfer of power from our hind legs, a twist of the hip, a launch of the shoulders, targeting of the elbow, a collapse of our knuckles into the opponent, AND THEN, that power isn’t lost, the play isn’t over, we’re very much still in motion, the weight behind the punch transferred to our forward leg, our body’s motion is continuous and in martial arts if we halt this continuity we can miss out on the left hook this transfer of power opened for us, or the roll under our opponent’s left hook that our motion facilitated for example. Before we’re ready to sparr with a partner and learn how to bridge the gap between them and us with fluidity and continuity, we first learn to bridge the gap in our own movements. Internal fluidity before we practice external fluidity with others. How does this apply to life? Well, there are some valuable lessons that Bruce offers in bridging both the gap between you and an opponent, and between us and “our goals, our dreams, our relationships, and our work.” In specific there are 5 lessons for a better time bridging the gaps in our lives. I’ve also taken the liberty of assigning one of the 5 elements of nature to the lessons I thought they matched most closely. 

 

  1. The Skill of Mobility ~ Air

This is the capacity to approach a problem from different angles, to respond spontaneously and with adaptability to our opponent or environment. In martial arts, this is characterized by “quick footwork that can move in any direction.” In real life, this is a reflection of how light we’re traveling, whether we’re willing to empty our minds from pre-conceived notions, expectations, biases, and beliefs, from rigid constructions of identity or rigid plans that are unwilling to adapt to the ever-changing and uncontrollable set of circumstances we’re presented with. If we meet an obstacle on our way to our goals, the skill of mobility allows us to respond with agility, to accept the obstacle as-it-is before considering any and all different perspectives and approaches in overcoming it. Adaptability is humanity’s greatest friend. 

 

    2. The Skill of Sensitivity ~ Water 

This is a capacity to be present, responsive, and in tune with our target. Our sensitivity requires our sensuous presence; to be able to respond with understanding and precision to our target, we have to be here and now, immersed in our environment. Not only must we remain sensitive to our opponent or friend, but we must also be sensitive to our own needs, feelings, and desires. Internal fluidity AND external fluidity. In martial arts this presence and sensitivity allows us to be “responsive to the slightest changes in conditions”, to our opponent's slight twitch of the eyes telegraphing the coming punch, maybe a shift in their center of gravity signaling a switch in their angle of attack. In our relationships, this skill allows us to remain present and aware of our friends' moods, needs, their responses to stuff, what it is they need right about now, whether they feel like a hug or like they want to be left alone. It’s considering what we say to whom we say it, keeping in mind our friend’s history before bringing up a sore subject for example. Internal sensitivity to our own feelings and needs can also allow us to hold healthy boundaries in our relationships, and to express our needs and feelings honestly before these build up and spill out later as passive aggressiveness or uncommunicated frustrations. Feeling the internal and external currents around us allows us to be honest about how we figure in the world, how we receive the world and how the world takes us in. Sensitivity is also a measure of precision, in identifying the cause of our emotions earnestly, maybe even in observing how force moves through our bodies when tweaking a punch, or awareness of the pit stops our streams of consciousness make in depicting the complete picture of our trains of thought. 

 

     3. The Skill of Timing ~ Ether

Shannon describes this skill as “being able not just to lead but to be led to the best moments from our impetus.” This skill is a peculiar one, because it involves an inner sense of time distinct from our 5 senses of touch, hearing, sight, taste, and smell, distinct but integrative of these senses much like a circle is distinct but integrative of its parts. In martial arts, this skill describes our ability to time our entries into the physical gaps our partners leave open when they punch, or slip a punch at hair’s length. Different fighters express this skill differently. Some work on studying rhythm. These musicians will tune into the rhythm of their opponent, the beat and frequency of their punches, the melody it makes; in response, these fighters will slip their heads from the center line to the beat of their opponent’s punches and counterattack at the half-beats in between their opponents notes. Other fighters will have integrated the environment into their inner sense, they’ll feel the living force around them, but really they’ll be responding to a spatial-temporal representation that their inner sense offers of the world outside them; without laying an eye on their opponent they know very well where and when their opponent is in relation to their own body, where and when they’ll be open based solely on their present position and their opponents contraction or expansion around our own position. [Note: I say spatio-temporal because physics has come to consider space and time as indivisible in their consideration, there is only space-time, we can't conceptualize space that is distinct from the temporal and sequential presentation of motion, just as we can't envision time as distinct from the dynamic and spatial system it measures. In a fight, timing isn't about counting ticking seconds, it's a matter of visual acuity, awareness of the gaps in our opponent's motion that]. For Lee, timing is both a capacity to lead -- set our own rhythm in the fight, express ourselves honestly and fully in a fight, faithfully even to who we most naturally, sincerely, and stylistically are -- and to be lead by our opponent, to tune into their rhythm as we evade the incoming blows. I’d love to hear a comedian’s take on this characterization of timing. From a philosophical perspective, there is a profound meaning behind this skill. Two forces determine our trajectory, in life and in a fight, the first is deterministic, the second is an unusual miracle, free will. Usually, these two forces are contradictory, how can your path be pre-determined or even retroactively determined as well as self-determined? One seems to attribute control to the world of circumstances we're enmeshed with, the other rises from some innate ability to overturn the mechanistic determinacy of a physical system (an ability to respond instead of just react). Paradoxical, yes, but not unsolvable if we consider no distinction between the Self and the system it takes part in, between the Self and other Selfs, the Self and our Opponent, the Self and Nature, Nature and the Cosmos, all referring to one and the same Agent, One singular force whose destiny is constitutive of, and shared with, the destiny of an individual agent. Now practically this can be troublesome at first, for a number of reasons. Am I too early, did I arrive too late? Am I doing enough to become all that I dreamed of? Am I doing too much? If the natural world arrives to us exactly when it intends to, how do we ensure we’re moving fast or slow enough to arrive at the world with the tools we need to meet its obstacles? The roundabout point I’m trying to make is that whether we’re seeking our role in an exchange of fists or finding our voice in the collective symphony of the world, we can’t separate our free will from the world whose destiny we share in. We can’t separate our pace, offensive, defensive, or neutral strategies in a fight from our opponent's actions; especially when there is neither a distinct I nor an opponent in the first place, only a Single Spirit experiencing itself through both our eyes and the moments'. Our spirits can’t be understood as still, unchanging, and isolated substances, they emerge in time and from a history of a World Spirit that made our birth possible and gave roads for our spirit’s choices to unfold in. Our spirit is growing through experiences every day, it is nourished by fleeting love, fleeting moments, passing thoughts, and inspirations just as much as it is shaped by lasting love, lasting friendships, and lasting beliefs. 

 

      4. The Skill of Understanding ~ Earth 

This capacity is exemplified in the ease of access we have to the knowledge and wisdom we’ve learned from our experiences. To be able to call on our knowledge and practical wisdom to a fight, or any situation really sounds pretty straightforward. It has its kinks though, how many times have you been faced with frustration or despair and just sat in it, rather than calling on the readily available insight we would have dropped on our friend if they were going through it? It's often easier to call on our life experiences when we’re offering them to others rather than adjusting our own behavior. A different example of our impaired access to understanding comes from a lack of confidence. Have you ever studied so hard for a test that the moment you see the first question, you blank! When we lose belief in ourselves, in the hard work we’ve put in, or our capacity to rise up to meet the circumstances, we fight at half capacity. Confidence gives us access to tools we have but are otherwise dormant. The first example I’ve provided suggests on the other hand, that arrogance or unfounded confidence can keep us from filling the gaps in our understanding or even adjusting our actions based on wisdom we’ve already learned but haven’t applied. What about when we get a word stuck on the tip of our tongue, a word we’ve been busting out on every occasion for the last two weeks but now can’t seem to conjure it? When we get in our heads to consciously force the operation of recollecting information that we need, we can often try so hard that we get nowhere. Access to all our experiences requires we step out of the Mind that houses them. For Kant our thoughts come in two forms, some thoughts pop up as intuitions while others require us to actively think. For the philosopher, our understanding can’t intuit empirical experience any more than our senses can think. When we observe the world we’re both receptive and sensitive to the information being imparted onto us through our senses. The understanding engages the second class of active thoughts; it calls on concepts that aren’t tied to a specific time or place, they aren’t particular expressions of objects out there in the changing world, instead they’re universal in scope. Wing Chun Master Danny Xuan defines a concept as “a set of ideas or principles that fit together in a non-contradictory manner to form a holistic whole.” A skillful understanding is a capacity to unconsciously lift our thoughts from the dark, to eventually allow conceptual, rational, or imaginative intuitions to bubble to the surface from no-thing as they respond to our conceptual and real-life needs. These needs can be words that we can't seem to recall, or even a complex synthesis of an optimal path across a race track as a driver launches on their final lap. Ideally, in a fight our understanding acts spontaneously in response to the conceptual needs of our experience, it offers a-temporal contributions from a living void, to problems very much situated in time and place, to an observer that is both mentally and sensuously engaged in the experience of life. 

 

       5. The Skill of Spontaneity ~ Fire

This is the capacity to “act in our best interest with full naturalness and immediacy, without being bogged down by too much thought” (Lee 177). When sparring this is the skilled, informed, and natural punch that rises to meet the conceptual need of reaching our opponent’s window of openings, it’s the spontaneous punch that is neither calculated nor pre-empted by the analytic and chattering mind, it's a punch that comes from a fighter situated deep in the present moment, immersed in the unfolding of circumstances and both aware and sensitive to changes in it. It’s a punch that punches by itself. Spontaneity presupposes that we are actively engaged in the continuous navigation of an activity. Whether this is a sparring march, a train of thought or even driving down a basketball court. It requires us to be alive and in motion. Even when we’re thinking. Hannah Arendt writes her papers like a tourist writes memoires aboard a train of thought that follows a track through different sights; the track has a beginning and a final destination, and the scenery not only changes and appears through the fog of a living void, but the different monuments she visits along the way are coherently strung together by a clear and organized set of conceptual needs in her investigation. Even in thought, we have to abandon the paralyzing need to get bogged down in one monument or the next at the expense of our motion forward, the stream of consciousness that is balanced by its continuous motion towards its inquisitive ends gains that balance by peddling that bike forward! As we live, and I mean truly live wholly through a moment, whether we’re moving through an opponent or a conceptual landscape, our conceptual needs will change as our circumstances change with us; we have to be willing to spontaneously respond to an opponents switch to an orthodox stance just as much as a change in a concept’s relation to a network of thoughts or a change in the historical paradigm underlying the treatment of this concept (concepts are used differently across time and in different contexts, especially when grounded in practical considerations).

The Gap

 “We in the west think of nothingness as a void, a non-existence. In Eastern philosophy and modern physical science, nothingness – no-thingness – is a form of process, ever moving.” - Bruce Lee

 

Shannon Lee describes the gap, the space between us and our opponent, goal, dream, or even loved one as the place of emptiness and “in truth, the birthplace of reality.” In this gap, we can find the moment “of decision, of action, of reflex, of thought”. Curiously she describes it as the space between the conscious and unconscious mind. For Lee, in this gap of momentary decision, sometimes we can actively will a choice from the conscious part of our mind, other times we can allow our unconscious mind to deliberate or impulsively react on our behalf, or rather on behalf of its conditioning or training. Just like Musashi, our unconscious minds can be trained to both work with our reflective minds, and to decisively act from its cultivated instinct, its well-trained and well-informed intuition in the art of war (or peace haha). Over time, the gap between our experience of the moment and our response to it can shrink regardless of whether we’re pressed to make a decision or not. By bridging and shrinking the gap, our unconscious mind becomes more and more comfortable coming up with solutions or responses on the fly, and our unconscious minds become so well versed in positive and informative practices, so well trained in the craft whose contents it digests, that even our intuitive responses to our circumstances offer gold. 

 

“All movements come out of emptiness. The mind is the name given to this dynamic aspect of emptiness and emptiness is sincerity so there is no crookedness, no ego-centered motivation, only genuineness and straghtforwardeness which allows nothing between itself and its movements.” - Bruce Lee

 

Bridging the gap between sensing and doing involves training our pre-reflective minds, the part of our minds that are constantly immersed in our sensible substrates, conjoined with our sensuous experience, to feel and observe with the pre-reflective mind, rather than rely on its reflective and chattering counterpart to dissect and compartmentalize the unity of experience that our pre-reflective minds so readily enjoy. 

P.S: Sink into your shots, transfer your weight to one of your legs to produce power in your shots or displacement. 

The Yami Tsukihira

Meditation, I am told, is about grounding one’s self into our natural and dynamic state of being. Getting in touch with our senses, settling into the present moment and space, sitting in the life force that beats underneath our skins and warms the void of our minds. When we settle into the wavefront of the world as it flowers here and now against our own currents. At this point, the world becomes an extension of our own being, no longer Heidegger’s polemos, but rather, an indivisible friend we commune in. This sphere of sensorial extension is similar to what philosophers would call a ken, the extension of one’s mind, its knowledge and sight, in our chunk of the world’s intelligible substrate. In this sensorial sphere, the observer and the world within the peripheries of our ken are ‘one’, not in identity, after all, other selves and spirits pass through this sphere while remaining distinct from us. In motivation however, in logical and affective unity. When two fighters who are meditating in motion enter one another’s ken, with the mutual intention of meeting one another outside each of their perceptive spheres and deep in the moment, this happens at the point where both fighter’s kens meet. Anyways the Yami Tsukihira is basically what Yami does against one of the dark triads in Black Clover, he creates a forcefield, an extension of his present and flowing ken, extending his sensory boundary to the moving world our opponents’ punches are coming from, and detecting them pre-emptively as they enter his ken and before the punch can reach him, he feels it early, intercepting the punch early, the fighter appears to be reading or even predicting the next opening. 

Black and Brown Fighters

“Why does Judo or Karate suddenly get so ominous because black men study it?”

 

1964, The New York Times published a bogus story about a gang of Blood Brothers walking around smacking white people. Depending on the author’s speculative mood, its membership ranged 25 to 400 people. They had, in the author’s premonition of danger, “intensified their training in Karate and Judo fighting methods.”

 

Of course, the Blood Brothers never existed, and the original story was penned by Junius Griffin in reaction to an enraging police response to a couple of school kids who “swiped a few pieces of fruit” from a stand in Harlem. The day came to be known as the Fruit Stand Riot. 

 

In colored hands, martial arts were vilified as a outrageous cults of violence entrusted to certain ‘people’ with ill-tempered natures. Inspite of the martial path’s lessons on self-discipline, humility and the strength of kindness, Black and Brown martial artists were viewed through the memory of anti-imperialist violent revolution. Whether “Kenya’s bloody Mau Mau Uprising, the Angolan and Mozambican Wars of Independence”, the Algerian Revolution or Palestinian Uprisings, the Black and Brown man was archetyped by their seemingly ‘irrational’ anger, hatred and violence aimed at the ravage of colonial conquest on the naturally free human spirit. 

 

100 years after the American Civil War was fought over slavery, the government was still crowding “Black people into ghettoes through redlining…kept them in place with segregation and, when that didn’t work, lynching.” As you can imagine “for alot of Black Americans, kung fu, karate, jiu-jutsu, what-have-you, looked like paths to empowerment” (Hendrix and Poggali, 24).

 

I hear this story a lot when I sparr with the people I care about, the loss of power and the quest for empowerment. Whether we lost power to a bully, a sexual assaulter an abusive parent, a slave-master, colonizer, boss, or even just to life! Martial arts was a good and structured way to reclaim our power, channel and manage our feelings of anger or grief in a controlled and healthy way, working through things while reconnecting with our body’s natural rhythm in the world.

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