Two Views of One Ultimate Reality

by Stephen K. Hayes

Note: This article originally appeared in the October 1996 issue of Ura & Omote.

In recent teaching sessions, I have emphasized the importance of observing the right and left hand, or in and yo (yin and yang), or Taizokai and Kongokai, of the polarities of experience and awareness in martial arts training.

Experience stands for the years of actually doing the physical things that make up our training. This over and over again repetition of becoming familiar with the capabilities of the mind and body in harmony is the only way to be able to perform should the pressure be turned against us someday.

Awareness stands for the extensive study and examination of that which makes up what we experience in martial arts training. This probing and questioning and scenario construction is the only way to be able to realize the value of that which we experience.

Too much emphasis on one aspect throws our progress dangerously out of balance. Experience without the enriching clarity of awareness is wheel-spinning at its most pointless; any lessons gained from the experience can only occur by mere random accident. Awareness without the pragmatic grounding of experience is dream-spinning at its most futile; there is no proving ground for Theories and philosophies.

During my training visit with Masaaki Hatsumi in Japan last year, I had the opportunity to consider in more depth this experience/awareness dual focus required for gaining the most from Hatsumi Sensei’s 900 year old Bujinkan tradition. The perfection of the ninja’s taijutsu combat art must be seen as a two-part development in which the kihon fundamental basic techniques are reflected against the henka nagare spontaneous adaptability and flow. A firm foundation in the basic building blocks of the movements and principles of our combat method is essential for the eventual development of the ability to flow and adapt spontaneously, creatively, and appropriately with an assailant’s attacking motions. On the other hand, extensive exposure to, and repetition of, free-moving scenarios of multiple action attacks requiring presence of mind are essential for the eventual development of the ability to actually utilize the basics in a successful fashion. You can not call your training realistic self-defense unless you incorporate fully both aspects of the process. With this reality so stated, it is now important to warn our students and potential students of the art that it is easy to be fooled into misunderstanding our art as one of weakness if sufficient time is not devoted to exploring both sides of the training. This controversial statement means that the “tourist” who takes in a few seminars, a demonstration or two, or jets to Japan for a couple of quick sessions with Masaaki Hatsumi is likely to see only one side of the process and come up with an incomplete picture. It really can seem to the outsider that we are involved in two separate arts at the same time. Indeed, to some degree this could actually reflect a tiny hint of truth.

On one hand, the art is one of methodical and reliable ways to break bones, damage tissues, and render joints useless. This is the kihon, or fundamental, level of training emphasized in our pre-black belt portions of the training. Our emphasis on pragmatism can, however, be unappreciated by those who are looking for flashy moves, exciting action, and “martial artiness.” The tourist observing only the kihon tends to complain that the training is too brutal and has none of the electricity and theatrics of the more conventional sport contest and entertainment martial arts.

On the other hand, the art is one of fluid and captivating action that effortlessly pulls the assailant in to cause him to create his own demise. This is the nagare, or flow, level of training emphasized in our black belt portions of the training. Our emphasis on effortless effectiveness can, however, be unappreciated by those who are looking for toughness, tension, speed and snap. and conventional martial “macho-ness.” The tourist observing only the nagare tends to complain that the training is too soft and has none of the explosiveness and precision of the more conventional athletic and image-conscious martial arts.

Both tourists are of course missing the same boat, only from different piers. Is this the bone smashing drag ’em to the ground fighting method of Japan’s original no nonsense espionage agents, or is this the effortless flowing body movement art of the spiritual warrior who has attained his enlightenment through letting go of the need to prove his strength to lesser persons? The answer of course is yes to both, but only for those persons willing to devote the awareness necessary to view both sides of the picture at the same time.

- Stephen K. Hayes