Kaname

The theme for this year is kaname. It means "essence." Ever since Duncan Stewart's blog post about it, I've been kind of mulling over the concept. What's it mean to know the essence of something? How is it even possible to know the essence of something? And what are we supposed to do with that knowledge?

Immanuel Kant, famous German philosopher from the Enlightenment, described things as having two realities. One was the phenomena, that which we can experience with the senses. The other is the noumena, the unknowable essence, "das Ding an sich" (the thing in itself), that we can never truly know. When I touch a tree, I feel the bark, I see as much of it as my eyes can take in, and I might even smell the scent of pine. But I do not sense the Tree itself, the essence of the tree - that is an experience of totality that is beyond comprehension or human ability.

If that's correct, then maybe this isn't the essence kaname indicates. Lucky for me, there are lots of intelligent folks who have thought about the essence of things over the centuries, so not everything hinges on Kant. (Never cared for him much anyway.) One of Aristotle's big ideas was the teleology of all things. "Telos" is Greek for "end," "purpose," or "goal." Aristotle claimed that everything had a goal that it was working toward, a purpose. For example, an acorn's telos is to become an oak tree and a human's telos is to reach eudemonia by living a virtuous life (see the Nicomachen Ethics). Duncan Shihan's post said, "...from there we are able to always move accordingly, to safely protect ourselves, and control our opponent - The Kaname." To me this emphasizes the overall purpose of an interaction, violent or nonviolent, as its kaname.

However, Duncan Shihan said some other things that make it clear kaname is not just about the overall purpose of something. Not in a restricted sense, at least. He said, "[Kaname] is in general noted as being the most ' important point '.[sic] ... We need to pin point the essential point for our lives and change with it constantly. ... We are searching the way to live life where we always move in the right direction and to the right position." So, it seems to me that this - as with so many things in Bujinkan - has a deeper application for the rest of our lives. I agree that everyone is searching for "the" way to live and "the" right direction to go in, whether they're conscious of it or not. Is kaname that abstract, individualized absolute, then? Maybe. If it is, then the emphasis on its constant change is even more important - people tend to become dogmatic and stagnate when they believe there is only one way to do things, one way to go.


As far as its application to training, the only way (that I'm aware of) it has worked its way into mine has been to look for what makes something what it is and not something else (e.g., what makes hicho no kata what it is and not ichimonji no kata). With more time and thought, I hope more of this mysterious "kaname" will be integrated into my training, both in the dojo and out.


This post is relatively short, but not for lack of confusion on my part, only a lack of coherent thoughts to express. To sum up, I possibly ruled out kaname as the noumena of something, confirmed that something's overall purpose (its telos) is involved, and there's an essential point to everything that constantly changes. The whole concept is still over my head, but I'm trying to jump up and reach it.


I hope something in this post helped you or at least got you thinking. If you have any thoughts or insights on the subject, I would be very grateful for the opportunity to read them in the comment section below. Thank you.


Onegaishimasu.



More quotes from Duncan Stewart's blog post:
     "The kaname is also forever changing. In training, our partner will move. We aim to move naturally to the essential point or, the point that determines the outcome. This point is also the point where one is covered and free of openings. But, to get there, we must move using the principals of taijutsu and in kamae."

     "Without searching and coming to understand the Kaname, the rest of the technique is based on nothing. In saying this, we see people doing wonderful looking demonstrations in classes but, do they know or are even away of the the 'essence' of the movement is? Or, are they just going through the motions and making it look like they know?"

Solid as a Rock

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”

~Jesus (Matthew 7:24-27)

That passage is typically labeled "The Wise and Foolish Builders" in the Bible. I'm not going to go into the religious significance of Jesus' words here, but I do think the parable has other information that is relevant to what I'm about to say. If you're going to build something, it's got to be on a firm foundation, or else it will collapse in the chaos of a storm.

Everything requires you to have a functional understanding of some fundamental set of skills or ideas before you can advance. In math, we learn how to count, then how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide. That's the foundation of mathematics. In photography, you start out with black and white film - not even worrying about colors yet - and learn how to adjust the aperture and shutter speed. You end up with a lot of mediocre pictures at first, but learn from them and figure out how to make your photos better.

Taijutsu is no different. There are fundamental movements that must be drilled over and over until they become instinctive, allowing you to focus on more difficult things like deceptive movement or using a weapon. If you want to build a sturdy house that can stand up to the storms, you have to build it on a rock.

What are the fundamentals? Ukemi, kamae, sanshin, and kihon happo to name a few. Without good ukemi, you'll hurt yourself more than necessary because you don't know how to receive the energy given to you, whether in the form of a throw, a lock, or a strike. Without proper kamae, your structure will be weak and you're more likely to become off-balanced. Sanshin helps teach you how your body moves, as well as strengthens your supports: your legs. Kihon happo contains more lessons than I can think of - and even more that I've yet to discover - but one of them is teaching you how to affect another person's structure while preserving your own.

It's easy to think to yourself after a couple years of practicing these fundamentals that you've got them down pretty well. Your rolls are relatively smooth, you know how to stand in kamae, you know what to do in sanshin, and kihon happo goes well without too many problems. If you're not careful, you will be tempted to accept that decent level of skill and not look for your weaknesses. And believe me, you have them. Even 15th dans have things they need to work on, old habits that need to be broken.

If the fundamentals have become relatively easy for you, try amping up the energy a little bit. You do alright with a partner who cooperates, now ask them to resist a little more (but no statues!!) and to put some aggressive intent into their attack. Move fluidly through the movements you've been practicing and see what stops working. Keep practicing at that level until it becomes easy, then move up again.

A few months ago, I was practicing koku with another student for my shodan test. I wouldn't say I was having an easy time of it, but it wasn't too difficult, either. It was acceptable, probably. Then my sensei came over and started working with me on the same technique, increasing the speed and intensity gradually. The technique started falling apart with just the first increase, and we stayed at that level until I pulled it together again. He increased it again, it started faltering again, and we stayed there until I pulled it together. The stress of having someone punch and kick like they were actually going to hit me forced me to use good timing, angles, and structure (fundamentals) just to keep myself safe.

Stress and chaos will overwhelm you if you do not have a firm foundation in the fundamentals. If you've done any randori before, you know this is true. Once you've got that foundation, though, you can start slowly building a house that won't be easily toppled. How solid is your foundation?

The Uke

One of the primary role sets in the dojo is tori/uke. In practice, this is typically understood as "guy who wins/defends" and "idiot who attacks." That may be the way things usually pan out, but the relationship is so much more than just winning and losing. The tori and uke are partners, working together to better their taijutsu and, in the process, themselves. In this post, I'll be looking at the uke's side of that partnership.

The action of uke is called "taking ukemi," literally "receiving body"; the uke is the receiver. "[Ukemi]... is the art of knowing how to respond correctly to an attack and often incorporates skills to allow one to do so safely." (Shamelessly taken from this Wiki article.) The uke receives whatever force or manipulation the tori gives, and reacts in such a way to keep himself/herself safe. I've heard it said before that the goal of an uke is to survive.

But surviving is not his only job. Remember, this is a partnership, not a strict "my turn, your turn" thing. The uke learns to protect himself as much as possible when he gets thrown or twisted or joint-locked, but the tori needs to learn how to do those things on someone who's actually there. By that I mean, you need to be there mentally; when push comes to shove and the pressure is on, people do what they've practiced. And if your tori has spent all his time practicing on an overly cooperative uke, he'll be at a disadvantage when his attacks and blocks don't work like they did in the dojo. On the other hand, a completely uncooperative uke will slow him down from learning the point of each movement he's studying, because you aren't moving!

Omote gyaku on this guy? Not gonna happen.

Being limp or being a statue is not what the role requires. The role requires you to help your partner train for reality, which means you must try your best to act and react as realistically as possible. Why are you grabbing here and not there? For a push, a pull, a throw, maybe preparing for a punch? Keep that intention in mind and move as slowly as your partner needs, but don't forget what your purpose for the attack is. Even when they start applying the technique, don't forget what your role is. Say he starts going for an omote - would you just let him do that? It's pretty obvious he's trying to do something. I wouldn't just let someone torque my wrist; I would try to stop it, probably by tensing those muscles. The uke needs to think of these things during training. Going slowly does make that more difficult, because it's not as natural as a faster speed. Just try to remember that fast is only slow sped up, and act accordingly.

The uke needs to be able to judge what level of cooperation to give his tori for the sake of learning a new technique (while not being a ragdoll or a statue). One partner might need more time going through each step slowly with little resistance, and another partner might grasp the mechanics more quickly, allowing the uke to make things more [realistically] difficult.

Both of you are learning, though on slightly different planes. The tori is learning on the physical level: the uke assists him by allowing himself to basically be a guinea pig and by playing as realistic a role as he can while preserving the safety of both. The uke is learning somewhat on the physical level - experiencing what different movements do and how things feel is very educational, if you pay attention - but mostly on whatever level the self resides on (spiritual? mental? emotional? I'm not sure). It takes humility to continuously project the appropriate intent and end up in pain or on the ground (or both) every time and maintain a grateful, helpful attitude. If your ego is in the way, it becomes less of a partnership and more of a contest. Maybe that's why we say "onegaishimasu" ("please instruct me") and bow when we pair off - that simple action helps remind us that we are learning together and helping one another.

If you have any questions, comments, or stories, I encourage you to leave them below.

Structure and Freedom

It's hard to choose where to begin. There are so many possible topics to discuss, ranging from minutiae to broad concepts, and I admit that I am paralyzed by the sheer volume of options. This art has so much to teach us; one blog post seems to be a pathetic attempt at capturing even a little of it.

But, I said I would submit a blog post today. And even though there's only about an hour left of "today," I will keep my word.

Since options are what occupy my thoughts, let's talk about that.

In taijutsu, there are an incredible number of options that constantly change depending on how you or your partner move. A little turn of the foot, a shift of the shoulders, where weight is placed - all these things can come into play and influence what you are able to do.

How do you choose what to do? The quick answer would be 'just keep moving.' That's valid, but where do you want to move to? There needs to be an overall strategy to help guide your choices.

If you're just trying to get your drunk buddy under control before he (or she) hurts someone, then maybe bone-breaking locks and throws aren't what you want to go for. You would want to work toward diminishing either their ability or desire to move (both, hopefully), and then release them once they've calmed down. But, if the threat is more, well, threatening (i.e., a mugger, rapist, etc.), inflicting some real damage might not be a bad idea. If you have a weapon available, knowing when and how to use it could substantially increase your odds of survival.

Freedom to move within an overarching strategy is something we see in other areas of life, as well. I remember my freshman year of high school, my English teacher told us that the method of essay-writing she was teaching us was like binding us with ropes so we could barely move. We had to follow a strict formula, with no room for deviation or creative license. But, she also told us that those ropes would gradually loosen as we progressed through the grades, and she was right. As I moved up through high school, the rules for essay writing got gradually less strict until I was finally able to move away from the 5-paragraph essay. Now I'm simply given a topic - sometimes not even that much - and the only things I have to have are an introduction, a thesis, a body, and a conclusion.* Basic structure in which I can say whatever I want for whatever my purpose is.

Same thing in art forms. For music, you first learn the notes on the scale, then progressions, chords, minors and majors, rhythms, harmony, and so on. But you start with the basic structure of notes on a scale and how long each of them lasts, and you're able to make music with just that knowledge. In visual arts, you learn different lines, shapes, and lighting effects. Those three basic things combine to create the vast array of art we see in museums and elsewhere. (Everywhere, really, but that's probably for another discussion.)

So, I've gone from too many choices, to needing an overarching strategy to move in, to having a fundamental base to work from. Somewhere between having a plan and having a base/core is where "just move" seems to fit. Both, especially having a base/core, are vital to the success of whatever you're attempting. Some basic advice I can give for developing both skill sets are:

1. Wherever you are, ask yourself what you would do if someone were to attack you, your friend, or a stranger right then. Are they armed? How does that change your tactic? How big or small are they compared to you?
2. Practice the fundamentals. In Bujinkan, this includes kihon happo, sanshin no kata, kamae, and ukemi. Complete mastery cannot be achieved, but you can get a heck of a lot closer to it if you practice often and practice well!

That's all I've got for tonight. Please leave your thoughts and comments/questions below!

Ganbatte.

--Kaitlin

*My formal papers for school are a lot better organized and have a clearer point than this post did. But, like my papers, I did wait until the last minute to write this!!