Monday, September 23, 2013

Things Funakoshi said

At the jujutsu dojo I go to there is a bookshelf with martial arts books available for borrowing. Of course, the one book on the shelf that caught my eye was Karate-Dō: My Way of Life by Gichin Funakoshi (I believe this was one of the only karate books on the shelf actually). Besides books by Nagamine sensei, this is the only other book I've read that is available in English by one of the Okinawan masters. I just wanted to record here in this blog some things that caught my attention from his book. For anyone reading this....enjoy some karate/martial arts food for thought:

"While it is true that a karate expert has the power to break a thick board or several layers of tile with one stroke of his hand, I assure my readers that anyone is capable of doing the same thing after undergoing sufficient training. There is nothing extraordinary about such an accomplishment. Nor has it anything whatsoever to do with the true spirit of karate; it is merely a demonstration of the kind of strength that a man may acquire through practice. There is nothing mysterious about it." (pg. 10)
. . .
"Both Azato and his good friend Itosu shared at least one quality of greatness: they suffered from no petty jealousy of other masters. They would present me to the teachers of their acquaintance, urging me to learn from each the technique at which he excelled. Ordinary karate instructors, in my experience, are reluctant to permit their pupils to study under instructors of other schools, but this was far from true of either Azato or Itosu." (pg. 16)
. . .
"Today I'm a wiser man than I was yesterday. I'm a human being, and a human being is a vulnerable creature, who cannot possibly be perfect. After he dies, he returns to the elements - to earth, to water, to fire, to wind, to air. Matter is void. All is vanity. We are like blades of grass or trees of the forest, creations of the universe, of the spirit of the universe, and the spirit of the universe has neither life nor death. Vanity is the only obstacle to life." (Apparently the words of Master Matsumura from the story Funakoshi recounts of Matsumura and the Engraver, pg. 28)
. . .
"One serious problem, in my opinion, which besets present-day Karate-dō is the prevalence of divergent schools. I believe that this will have a deleterious effect on the future development of the art...There is no place in contemporary Karate-dō for different schools. Some instructors, I know, claim to have invented new and unusual kata, and so they arrogate to themselves the right to be called founders of 'schools'. Indeed, I have heard myself and my colleagues referred to as the Shōtō-kan school, but I strongly object to this attempt at classification. My belief is that all these 'schools' should be amalgamated into one so that Karate-dō may pursue an orderly and useful progress into man's future." (pg. 37-39)
. . .
"It seemed to me that I had learned an important lesson from that viper. As we continued on our way toward Azato's house, I said to my son, 'We all know about the habu's persistence. But this time that was not the danger. The habu we encountered appears to be familiar with the tactics of karate, and when it slid off into the field it was not running away from us. It was preparing for an attack. That habu understands very well the spirit of karate.' " (pg. 48)
. . .
"It was around 1935 that a nationwide committee of karate supporters solicited enough funds for the first karate dōjō ever erected in Japan...I entered for the first time the new dōjō (in Zoshigaya, Toshima Ward) and saw over the door a signboard bearing the dōjō's new name: Shōtō-kan. This was the name that the committee had decided upon; I had no idea that they would choose the pen name I used in my youth to sign the Chinese poems I wrote...I am often asked how I happened to choose the pen name of Shōtō, which became the name of the new dōjō. The word shōtō in Japanese means literally 'pine waves' and so has no great arcane significance..." (pg. 83-85)
. . .
"Some of the younger ones, I confess, disagree with me: they tell me that they believe karate may fairly be used whenever circumstances make it absolutely necessary. I try to point out that this is a total misconception of the true meaning of karate, for once karate enters, the issue becomes a matter of life and death. And how can we allow ourselves to engage in such life and death confrontations often in our few years on earth?" (pg. 93-94)
. . .
"True practice is done not with words but with the entire body. Others have mastered the kata that you are practicing. Why then are you unable to? Is there something wrong with you? These are the questions you must ask yourself; then you must train until you fall from exhaustion; then soon you must continue, using the same strict regimen. What you have been taught by listening to others' words you will forget very quickly; what you have learned with your whole body you will remember for the rest of your life." (pg. 106)
. . .
"All too frequently I hear teachers speak of trainees as oshiego ('pupil'), or montei ('follower'), or deshi ('disciple'), or kohai ('junior'). I feel such terms should be avoided, for the time may well come when the trainee will surpass his instructor. The instructor, meanwhile, in using such expressions runs the risk of complacency, the danger of forgetting that some day the young man he has spoken of rather slightingly will not only catch up with him but go beyond him - in the art of karate or in other fields of human endeavor." (pg. 109)
. . .
"The Okinawan name for our style of wrestling is 'tegumi', and should you write the word, you would use the same two Chinese characters that are used to write karate's 'kumite', except that they are reversed. Tegumi is, of course, a far simpler and more primitive sport than karate...Unlike most forms of wrestling, in which the participants are lightly clad, entrants in tegumi bouts remain fully clothed. Further, there is no special ring; the bout may be held anywhere - inside the house or in some nearby field....Once I had determined to become a karateka, I used to get four or five younger boys to wrestle with me, believing that such bouts would strengthen my arm and leg muscles as well as those of the stomach and the hips. I cannot say how much tegumi actually contributed to my mastery of karate, but I am certain that it helped fortify my will. For example, I seldom had any great difficulty thrusting back a single opponent, but my difficulties increased greatly as the number of my opponents increased. Then, if I attacked one opponent, the others would find an opening in which to attack me. It is hard to think of a better way than this to learn how to defend oneself against more than one opponent, and if it sounds like nothing but a children's game, I can assure you that those of us who engaged in it took it very seriously." (pg. 124)

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Elbow SMASH!
Hiji Até

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