I’ve been training for nearly 30 years in the martial arts and spent the last 15 years as the chief instructor of an aikido dojo. In my time, I’ve noticed some things about the way people tend to progress through their practice—or not. I have personally lost my way and found it again many times.
In the martial arts, there are different models of how one makes their way through the stages of training from beginner to master. Fundamental to traditional Japanese martial arts is the concept of 型 kata or forms. There are three stages associated with this model: 守 shu (obey the form), 破 ha (break the form), and 離 ri (transcend the form and understand principle).
NOTE: This article is not intended to be an in-depth discussion of kata-based training, but you’ll see me reference it occasionally. For more detail, see Kazuo Chiba Shihan’s article, “Structure of Shu, Ha, Ri, and Penetration of Shoshin.”
Karate, Kempo, and Kobudo use set solo forms to pass teachings down from master to student. Though not Japanese, tai chi, tae kwon do, and kung fu have their own forms. Aikido is primarily partner-based, and though we may think we’re doing applications, I would argue that the cooperative nature of our practice tends to be more like performing kata with another person.
Regardless of the style, traditional martial arts tend to rely on proscribed forms, which has its ups and downs. On one hand, it can ensure consistency and allow practitioners to refine their skills. On the other hand, the grinding repetition can sometimes lead to burnout.
Regardless of your style, we will all inevitably lose our way at some point if we continue on our path. If you’ve ever found yourself lacking direction, focus, or motivation, here are some ideas to help you get unstuck.
The Stages of Training
When first starting their martial arts practice, people tend to enjoy the visceral, physical aspects of training. It’s fun and challenging to gain the new skills of punching, kicking, throwing, grappling, or whatever your art may offer. For a while, this is sufficiently stimulating for people to come back for more.
Continuing in this way, at some point, a student will start to accrue technical knowledge and progress through the ranks. This stage tends to be fairly straightforward in traditional martial arts because the student is learning the forms fundamental to their style.
Eventually, training in this way, the student will earn their black belt. This is a great accomplishment and requires years of commitment, though contrary to popular belief, a first-degree black belt, 初段 shodan in Japanese, means ‘beginning level.’ When I earned my first black belt, my teacher said, half sincerely, half tongue-in-cheek, “Now you can begin your training.”
It can be a challenge to get to shodan, but for long-term practitioners, I find that this is actually where the problems begin to arise. I see a lot of second and third-dan students who stay fixated on form and eventually end up bored and frustrated. They become disillusioned because they can’t let go of the rigid structures they have learned. It’s like they’ve mastered the rules of grammar but find themselves with nothing to say.
To break through this barrier, I find it’s necessary to concede some degree of technical proficiency, like the ha (break the form) stage of kata-based training. It is common at this point, if not necessary, to wonder what you’re doing and not really have a good answer. If one is patient and can sustain a consistent level of training at this stage, he can begin to discover what’s contained in those forms and come to understand the principles they embody.
Though revelatory, this realization isn’t primarily intellectual. One way to say it is that, at this point, the techniques simply become a part of you. The Japanese might describe this as 身に付く mi ni tsuku, literally the techniques ‘stick to your body’ and your actions come to embody the principles contained within the forms, much like the ri (transcend the form and understand principle) stage of kata-based training.
Add a Dash of Complexity
Sounds great, right? Sign me up! Well, it never goes that smoothly. In fact, overcoming these barriers requires more than just perseverance—it requires self-discovery.
In my experience, each student tends to have some challenge or blockage that prevents them from making progress—sometimes, multiple barriers stand in their way. Maybe they previously experienced some trauma and now struggle to assert themselves. Others are fixated on winning and can’t let go of strength or a desire to win enough to discover the finer details of the art.
These barriers manifest themselves in many ways. Of course, the ego looms large here, and whatever patterns we have gotten comfortable with, what we have come to know of as our self, actually stands in our way.
You don’t walk out the same person as you walked in. That is the nature of a transformative practice. A good teacher can spot a student’s intrapersonal hindrances and help him move through them. Some teachers approach this barrier quite aggressively, trying to smash through that inflexible concept of self. Others are more gentle. Let’s hope you find the right teacher!
At the end of class once, William Gleason Shihan said, “A good teacher doesn’t give it to you; a good teacher helps you find it.” Aikido offers us the opportunity to discover something. This discovery is both of the practice and within ourselves. It sounds complicated to say in words, but simply put the thing that seems to stand most in our way holds the greatest potential for growth.
Back to the Beginning
When you find yourself lost, looking back to how and why you got started can be a valuable reference point. Any martial artist can tell you the story of how they found their way onto the mat. For some it was a way out of being bullied, for others it was a means to health, and for others something else.
For me, my kikkake, or ‘opportunity to begin’ was that I came to aikido from a place of spiritual/philosophical searching. In high school, for a period, I was depressed and suicidal, and one day I happened to find a copy of Zen Flesh, Zen Bones in my hands. As I read, with each successive parable I forgot my worries and my eyes opened to the incredible possibility of here and now.
From there, I continued to read more on Zen, Taoism, and Buddhism. As I made my way, each new book would stress the importance of proper practice. It sounded great, but the problem was I didn’t have a practice. I spent some time frustrated, spinning my wheels, but then one day I was walking down an alley and saw a flier for aikido classes at the local YMCA and the rest is history.
One of the biggest challenges for me personally was making the transition from student to teacher. After many years, I got pretty good at figuring out where to put my feet and how to twist someone’s wrist, but learning how to convey the art to someone else and putting my finger on what’s most important for others to understand felt overwhelmingly complex.
When prepping a class, I often find myself staring at a blank mental page. Sometimes inspiration just comes to me, and other times, I have specific objectives, like prepping students for tests, but when I’m really uncertain, it helps me look back and see where I came from to figure out where I want to go. Right now, that means @#$@#$^@#$%^@#$^@# sort this bad boy out later
The Next Step
At first, we train to punch, kick, and throw, but later on, our training becomes deeper, more amorphous. I have walked part of this road and know I have much further to go, my path blazed by those before me. It’s not always easy, and the direction not always clear, but I seem to enjoy it well enough to keep moving forward.
If you find you’ve lost your way, I would encourage you to take a moment to look within and ask what might be standing in your way. Your teacher and those who know you best have probably already tried to tell you about it, though it is the thing we’re least likely to really hear.
Enjoy where you are now, even when it’s hard. Also, know that over there, on the other side, is something great, that you are something great.
- Keeping the Fire Burning After Black Belt - December 30, 2024
- Making Sense of Violence - November 23, 2024
- Rediscovering my Practice - October 20, 2024
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