The Meaning of the Belts

When people are new to martial arts, there are some questions and ideas that are almost typical (though not really universal), and which many instructors and other long-time martial artists consider pet peeves, mostly because they're misconceptions fostered by popular culture and media. So, just to do my little bit to help, I'm going to take a look at these points.

The central point is the momentous Black Belt. The popular conception is that being awarded a black belt in a martial art means that you're a master of the art, and sometimes practically a superhero. That being the case, to many new people it seems like a very obvious question to ask "How long does it take to get a black belt."

I have no idea whether it is true, but I've read a fitting story about when someone visited a dojo, and asked the head instructor the above question. In response, the teacher said, "Ah! You want a black belt?" He went and got a black belt from the supplies, and ceremoniously handed the man the belt. He then gestured to his other students, who were preparing for sparring practice, and cordially invited the "new black belt" to demonstrate his qualification for the belt by joining in.

It is also true that anyone can go to a martial arts supply store or website and buy a belt of any color they like. For that matter, we can make one if we have enough fabric, and a needle and thread. In short, the belt and its color is just a symbol. There's nothing to stop a teacher or an organization (wherever the authority lies in a particular art and lineage) from declaring that they will use pink belts for the purposes that black belts are currently customary.

(I would like to say to instructors that an estimate of time to reach black belt really is a reasonable question for beginners to have, even if more experienced people might see it as not really accurately answerable; and I would propose that the best way to answer is with the simple truth, such as it is for your school. In general, there is probably some definite minimum time you can mention, along with the fact that one's own dedication, skill and perseverance will determine how much time it might take beyond that minimum training time that may be required, so that it is really impossible to say how long it will take in the end... it's up to them to meet the qualifications for promotion!)

The real point, of course, is the training and education one receives. The belts used in many martial arts to signify rank are a symbol, and somewhat arbitrary, since there are different arrangements of rankings, and different belts assigned to them.

In fact, many people are surprised to learn that the system of using belts to show rank is relatively modern, and decidedly not an ancient tradition. It started in Japan in the original school of Judo, founded by Jigoro Kano Sensei in the late 1800's. Before that time, the standard way of acknowledging a student's advancement was through a series of degree certificates. The martial arts of other countries had their own systems; I haven't done much research into that aspect of their histories, unfortunately, so I cannot now shed more light. In the meantime, Kano Sensei's ranking system spread among other Japanese and Okinawan martial arts, and then to other arts.

Actually, Kano Sensei borrowed part of the system from traditional ranking system of Japanese games, such as "Go." This was in line with his creation of Judo, as a sport and path of personal development, out of the combat art of Jujutsu. This traditional system is one of "kyu" grades for those who are in the process of learning the game or art, to which Judo assigned a series of colored belts; and "dan" ranks to acknowledge the increasing skill and mastery of those who had attained proficiency, which are the black belt ranks.

There we see the probably cause of one of those misconceptions that is our main point: first there is this series of colored belts, and then a black belt for the rest of a person's career in that art. To those who aren't fully (or at all) aware of the kyu-dan system, it does naturally look like attaining a black belt is the goal of martial arts training. Some arts do show the progression of dan ranks with colored stripes on the black belts; that was the system in the Tae Kwon Do school I attended as a youth, for example.

But what's actually going on is that the kyu-grades or colored belts are, in martial arts, a structure for a curriculum of the basics of that art, and achieving a good level of competence therein. When one receives his or her first dan rank, and the black belt that goes with it, it signifies that one has shown competence and proficiency in the basics of the art, and now he or she may begin to come into their own and truly start learning what the art has to offer. In other words, attaining a black belt shows that one is perhaps an advanced student, or maybe even still intermediate, in a more strict and rigorous school than some others might be. Again, the colored belts show that one is a beginner, learning the various components of the art, all its basic exercises, techniques, stances, etc., etc. The first degree dan rank and its black belt means you're no longer a beginner. Higher dan ranks come as one moves toward mastery.

To be clear, attaining the first degree black belt is a very significant accomplishment, regardless of misunderstandings about its precise meaning! Actually, any belt is of great significance, even the first kyu to be earned means that you have persevered in learning something new, that forces one to confront fears and discover new abilities and new strength, inner and outer, just to get that far.  For that matter, simply taking the step of entering a dojo is worthy of honor. Most people don't do that!

In many arts, each rank takes longer to earn, often with specific minimum amounts of training time before one is allowed to test for the next rank. So, this means, in particular, that in the case of dan-ranks, the amount of training between ranks does indeed allow for significantly increased mastery, so that by the middle dan ranks, one could probably be considered as having mastered the art to a significant extent. But most high-ranking martial artists will tell you frankly and earnestly that they are always still students; and surely that is the ideal mindset.

Since this blog has a particular focus on Aikido, I should mention that many Aikido schools use only white belts for the kyu-grades, and black belts for the dan-degrees. Some schools do use colored belts for the kyus, however; and still others use colored belts only for children's classes, as a special motivational tool. Also of note is that most Aikido schools, and some of the other, more traditional, arts tend to discourage the mentality of trying to rack up belts or ranks. (I would say that when it comes right down to it, practically speaking, ranks only really matter, in a substantial way, for the sake of certifying people who are qualified to teach their martial art to others.)

While keeping in mind that every art, and different organizations within an art, and to some extent sometimes the schools within organizations, have their own particular systems and standards, to give a general idea, here is a link to the rankings page of the New York Aikikai and of the Aikikai Headquarters in Japan. A quick Google search can bring up the ranking systems of many other martial arts and schools. I've personally found it very interesting to compare different arts and their ranking systems, and different schools within an art.

I hope that this post is helpful to readers who may be considering enrolling in a dojo for formal training. Please, if you find that you have unanswered questions, ask them via the comments, and I will try to answer either in updates to this post or in future posts. (If you have questions about particular schools or styles, you can contact them directly and get much better answers.)

"Martial Relaxation"

Please read the linked article by Stanley Pranin Sensei on Martial Relaxation and other issues. It is his review of his experience teaching at a particular Aikido seminar. In my remarks following, I try to give my understanding of what he says, as influenced by my own experience, such as it is, and various teachers and other sources.

For me, the point about "martial relaxation" particularly strikes home because it is among my father's central basic teachings, though he hasn't used that particular term. As he put it, holding your muscles tensely in anticipation of action will delay and slow the action itself, and as Pranin Sensei says, that tension can also telegraph your intended movement to your partner or opponent.

Now, it is called "martial" relaxation because it is not the kind of relaxation that is limp and uncontrolled, but one in which you are aware, steady and in control. My father has sometimes described it as "poised", contrasting it to both "tensed" and limply relaxed.

So, it's very important to maintain this middle state between rigid tension and limpness. Both tension and limpness slow us down and delay reactions, but in the zone of martial relaxation we can find the best reaction and movement speed.

Observe a cat, and its speed of motion when striking. Cats appear to naturally maintain this state of martial relaxation, probably due to their nature as predators who also can be vulnerable to other predators.  (People who play with cats, thus, might be able to develop and measure their martial relaxation by their ability to, for example, evade a pounce or some "batting". ;))

In his article, Pranin Sensei mentions two other issues that he encountered among students: unbalancing the partner, and use of distracting strikes ("atemi" in Japanese).

Unbalancing is one of the most central and definitive things in the theory of Aikido. It's very much understandable that people sometimes forget in the heat of practice or combat, so it's all the more important for those who practice that art to keep in mind the basics of theory as well as of practice, and of course, put theory into practice. Aikido without using the aiki techniques of unbalancing is essentially simple judo or jujutsu. Aikido is born from jujutsu, in particular the Daito-ryu Aiki-jujutsu tradition, which is itself a specialty school that emphasizes aiki, as the name indicates. So, if we're training Aikido, we should give firm attention to breaking the partner's balance, when we are doing the nage/tori side of the equation. That is the key to making the resulting technique an Aikido technique.

As for atemi, it is an important method in achieving that all-important task of unbalancing the partner. It's a strike, a hit, that is meant to distract and unbalance... to break the concentration and poise of the other partner. It's not meant (in Aikido, that is!) to injure, nor more than briefly cause pain. As Pranin Sensei says in many places, Aikido Founder Morihei Ueshiba uses atemi in his filmed demonstrations and teachings.

 

Essence of the Essence?

Today I'm thinking again about the wide range in opinions in the Aikido world on the religious aspect of the art, and on whether there even is one. At one extreme, I've seen a book written by an instructor who's an Evangelical Christian and emphasizes the fact in his book, while flatly asserting that the Founder (Morihei Ueshiba "O-Sensei") said that Aikido is not a religion. On the other end of the spectrum, I have heard of some instructors at seminars attempting to make people engage in Shinto worship of the Aiki no Kami ("Gods or spirits of Aiki"). Somewhat similarly, in browsing pictures of videos of many dojos, I've noticed at least one that has a scroll in the place of honor bearing the Japanese inscription Aiki O-kami (合気大神）"Great Spirit/God of Aiki".

I've read enough of the Founder's words on the subject to be confident that the proper attitude lies somewhere in between the two extremes. For example, one statement of his is, "Aikido is the religion that is not a religion." While perhaps a little cryptic, it seems clearly enough to indicate that there is a religious nature and element to Aikido, but it is not organized as nor does it operate as a religion. O-Sensei also stated directly that he did not expect his students to follow his religious path, knowing that their own religions were right and good for them. At the same time, he did not hide his own religious sense of Aikido, and his live-in students (uchi-deshi)  routinely attended his prayers and other devotional activities as part of the regular schedule. Still, they were not required to participate as he did, and perhaps most significantly in the practical sense is that, although he gave talks to his students on spiritual aikido, understanding these talks was never a condition of promotion, which means that whatever religious side there was of Aikido even in the Founder's time was not mandatory nor part of the curriculum, but was in a sense parallel to the physical training that the students were there to receive.

All this being said, some readers will want to know more about what O-Sensei did actually say on spiritual and religious matters. As has been said elsewhere, his talks (those that were recorded in some fashion, at least) have been compiled in two collections, both of which are now available in English translation. (1) Aiki Shinzui ("The Essence of Aiki") was compiled from talks he gave in the dojo, collected and edited by his son, the second Head of Aikido, Kisshomaru Ueshiba Sensei. This has has been translated into English and published as "The Secret Teachings of Aikido." http://www.kodanshausa.com/books/9781568364469/ (2) Takemusu Aiki  is the transcript of a series of lectures that the Founder gave to a religious group founded by one of his friends, and it has been published in an English translation as "The Heart of Aikido". http://www.kodanshausa.com/books/9784770031143/

In the original Japanese text of Aiki Shinzui, the talks are arranged into seven chapters or sections, each with a title based (as far as I can tell) on a striking phrase or concept from one of the talks in that section. Each of these titles encapsulates a major principle in spiritual Aikido. So, as a way of sharing some of the essence of the Founder's thought, I'm going to attempt a translation of each of these chapter titles. (One could do the same with the titles of the individual talks for a slightly more detailed view... perhaps I'll try some of them in future posts.)

I will give the original Japanese text along with transliteration, then my English translation, and brief comments. Since I'm only a learner of Japanese, there may be flaws in my translations, though I have tried to research any difficulties as thoroughly as I can. (I would consider advice from fluent speakers who are Aikidoka, toward improving the translations.)

I. 合気道は魂の学び　Aikidou wa tamashii no manabi   "Aikido is the study of the spirit."

For some people, this is the most important definition of "religion". In any case, it defines Aikido as a spiritual method.

II. 合気とは愛気である  Aiki to wa aiki de aru   "Aiki is the spirit/energy of love."

O-Sensei was fond of punning between "ai" as "harmony, joining, etc." and "ai" as "love" in giving his spiritual and ethical teachings. In this way, he shows that both kinds of "ai" go hand-in-hand. It's difficult to have one without the other. This spirit of love should be sought by the aikidoka in training and even in combat.

III. 合気は武産の現われ  Aiki wa takemusu no araware   "Aiki is the manifestation of spontaneous martial action."

Takemusu is difficult to translate into English as a word or phrase, although the actual concept isn't hard to understand. It refers to a state wherein one spontaneously creates the right martial technique for the need of the moment; this is in contrast to the type of expertise in which one has a large catalog of techniques to draw upon. To put it another way, one who has achieved takemusu aiki simply does automatically what is needed, not limited by a set of memorized techniques. It may be seen as a particular type of enlightenment in martial art.

IV. 合気は息の妙用なり  Aiki wa iki no myouyou nari  "Aiki is the wonderful or mysterious effect of breath."

This illustrates the close connection between aiki, spirit, and breath. In many languages and cultures, there is little if any distinction between spirit and breath, and Japanese is among them.

V. 宇宙につながる合気  Uchuu ni tsunagaru Aiki   "Aiki connects (or connecting?) to the universe."

Here reference is made to connection between man and the universe at large, which is accomplished through aiki. Thus, Aikido is, as O-Sensei says elsewhere, a means of connecting to the universe, to heaven and earth, to the Great Spirit (O-kami, and Paramatma)

VI. 合気とは禊である   Aiki to wa misogi de aru   "Aiki is purification"

Misogi is more specifically a rite and method of purification. Those familiar with Sanskrit terms will understand if I translate it as "tapasya", which means purificatory rites of austerity. The Founder of Aikido tells us that his martial art is itself a method of misogi; and as it happens, too, some of the warm-up exercises he instituted are in themselves traditional forms of misogi. In some recent research, I noticed with interest that there is some similarity in principle and effect, even when not in form, between these misogi warm-ups in Aikido, and warm-up exercises and chi-gong in Chinese martial arts, particularly as used as warm-ups for Tai Chi Chuan. This in turn reminds me of article written by a former aikidoka who pursued Chinese internal martial arts after aikido, in which he relates a belated discovery, after years of practice, that the warm-up exercises that his teacher did before the main tai chi form practice were the key to his internal power, that is, his chi or in Japanese ki. Though the exercises are not identical, it seems they fulfill the same functions, both as "misogi" and physical warmups... and stimulation and awareness of ki/chi. I hasten to add that like with the rest of Aikido, the mindset, intention, attention, concentration, etc., of the practitioner makes a huge difference in the effect of the practices. Lackadaisical practice will bring lackluster results, though there is benefit to any sort of practice, unless you're doing things truly badly. Sincere and enthusiastic practice will bring far greater results.


VII.  神人合一の修業   Shinjin go-itsu no shuugyou    "Pursuit of knowledge of unity of god and man"

This last chapter title is another that strongly highlights the specifically spiritual side of Aikido. O-Sensei speaks of the practice and study as leading to the state of unity between god (kami) and humanity; similar to the way that an earlier chapter spoke of connection with the universe. Aikido is, if we take all these things together, along with the purely physical and technical side, the way of harmonizing or coordinating every kind of "energy": the totality of your own body, mind and spirit (if you believe in the latter); the energy of yourself and partners or attackers; the energy of humanity, of heaven, of the universe as a whole, of gods and spirits.

Although none of these chapters bring it out, another major theme of the Founder's words on spiritual, religious and ethical is the goal of building "heaven on earth". In this regard, we should remember that he lived through both World Wars, fighting in one and losing many students to the next; and saw large parts of major Japanese cities flattened. In other words, he saw the desolation of hell on earth, and so he instead wanted his students to work toward a heaven on earth, a harmonious world.

In one chapter, misogi was mentioned, but another kind of practice was also greatly emphasized by O-Sensei, although it was not named in any of the seven chapter headings. This is "kotodama", which can be seen as the Japanese version of "mantra". The Founder was familiar with both Shinto kotodama and practices of Shingon ("True Word") Buddhism, which is the Japanese tradition corresponding to the Tantric Buddhism of Tibet and India. In regard to kotodama, it seems to me that one could profitably chant and meditate on these chapter titles as a kind of kotodama, alongside more traditional kotodama.

In short, then, the Aikido Founder's vision was of perfect harmony between all parts of reality... all beings, and all inanimate parts of the whole as well. Our practice, study, awareness, etc., is the way. And let us not forget "love", the other "ai".  

Chop Wood, Carry Wat... no... just the wood today!

After a lapse of a surprising number of years, today I was in fact chopping some firewood. If anyone doesn't know why this is mentioned in a blog focused on martial arts, I recommend watching the classic Japanese movie, "The Seven Samurai". (A search of youtube does not bring up a clip of the scene I have in mind, unfortunately.)

However, I can explain: in the movie, one of the samurai is first encountered chopping wood. He is splitting each log with one blow of the axe and a kiai. In my family, we have always used certain tasks as kinds of training, especially with tools like axes, hatchets or machetes. This includes chopping wood, or clearing small trees and brush, with single strikes when possible. Similar to the karate practice of breaking boards, if you do it right, with good coordination of your ki, etc., you barely even feel the wood you cut through.

There are some lessons to be learned from chopping wood, and the tool used, that is, the axe. It can be symbolic of focus. Consider: why does a sharp edge cut better than blunt edge? The edge is where all the energy is focused, and a sharp edge is focuses energy very tightly, where bluntness diffuses it. When chopping wood, that is only the beginning of the story: after the edge has cut into the end of the log, the wedge shape of the blade transfers energy sideways, pushing the two edges of the cut apart. If you have struck properly, and assuming that the wood doesn't have major knots or gnarls in the grain, the two halves of the log seem to leap apart as the axe passes between them.

For the aikidoka using ken, and I would presume for other sword arts as well, the right method for splitting wood is only a slight adaptation from certain of the suburi (basic weapon exercises of fundamental movements), and from tanren uchi (striking either a tire or a bundle of sticks with the wooden sword) practice. Like with the tanren uchi, one of the keys is settling the hips as part of the strike: this is important in fully harnessing and coordinating the body's ki.

Since I had not chopped wood for years, I experimented a little to rediscover the best method I could. I found (and only then remembered having been taught) that it was best not to raise the axe overhead (as would be reminiscent of the first sword suburi in aikido), but to ready for a strike by bringing the axe around the body, keeping the blade low, reminiscent of a variation of the arm motion in the fifth suburi, though not to the extent of covering the head; and then the axe is pulled straight over and down from back to front. For some reason my aim was better when I did this, rather than raising the axe straight from front to back; in any case, it is more energy-efficient to only lift the blade in one direction, instead of both. In addition, there is some subtle effect in allowing you to feel the weight of the blade and to some extent moving the handle around it, rather than fighting the weight by lifting it back. Meanwhile, lifting the blade from the back to the front for the strike is necessary because in that case you want that energy that is produced, for your strike, whereas there is no benefit in essentially swinging the back of the axe blade (or if you are using a double-bitted axe, the other blade edge!) toward your spine and having to fight that weight. You maintain more control with the other method. These principles can all be applied to taijutsu (body techniques).

Now, while chopping wood and similar work can be good training, I would strongly warn anyone who isn't experienced at using an axe to first get someone to show you how to do it safely. Don't forget that axes have been used in battle as much as for chopping firewood, and if you make a mistake, you could cripple or kill yourself in an instant. This doesn't mean that anyone should be afraid, it just means to be careful; and learn from someone who knows how to do it properly. I started chopping firewood as a child, but I was taught good technique right from the start by my father, who is both martial artist and skilled user of many traditional tools. (And yes, even as a child, I could usually split a log with one strike, owing to the good technique I was taught.)

As always, the general principle remains to try to be aware of the energy (of body and tool), and to try to remain in control of it,  use it in the right way for the circumstances. For example, sometimes the axe does not go all the way through the log, either due to some flaw in your strike, or perhaps more likely due to the structure of the piece of wood, holding the two sides together. At the point, you have to decide which strike to do next. One can remove the axe from the log and try again (I would only recommend that if the axe feels at all loose, in which case it is mandatory); otherwise you have the choice to swing the axe, embedded in the log, to come down on the chopping block either with the edge upward, which adds the weight and momentum of the log to your strength and speed, or with the edge downward.

For most aikidoka, I would really recommend sticking with the tanren uchi, unless of course you or family or friends need firewood. ;) But for those who may try chopping wood, there can be nice training (shuugyou) value in it. Again, watch the Seven Samurai and see how the samurai does it. (There are other good lessons to be learned by another thing or two he does in the scene, not directly connected with the wood-chopping...)