MARTIAL ARTS PDF
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Martial arts of the world: an encyclopedia / [edited] by Thomas A. Green. p. cm. Includes bibliographical. Martial Arts as Embodied Knowledge sppn.info 1 7/11/11 AM sppn.info 2 7/11/11 AM Martial Arts as. PDF Drive is your search engine for PDF files. in Chinese Martial Arts, 16 Archery, Japanese, 18 Baguazhang (Pa Kua Ch'uan), 23 Boxing, Chinese.
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of the following people and organisations to the production of this resource. Activities included within the Martial Arts Companion Book have been adapted from. PDF | To measure the time needed to teach a series of martial arts techniques to proficiency. Fifteen volunteer subjects without any prior martial arts or. PDF | The term Martial Arts is often used as general phrase to describe many of the combat arts, which have developed in eastern cultures over.
Ultimate Conditioning for Martial Arts eschews the traditional one-size-fits-all approach. Now you can learn his secrets and follow his proven program in Ultimate Conditioning for Martial Arts.
Martial Arts Books
Table of Contents Chapter 1. Physical Requirements for Martial Arts Chapter 2. Evaluating Martial Arts Fitness Chapter 3. Dynamic Warm-Ups and Flexibility Chapter 4. Exercises for Base Conditioning Chapter 5. Exercises for Striking and Kicking Chapter 6. But when I feel impatient or act dogmatically self-assured, I remind myself of the lesson Bruce taught me, and I try to empty my cup to make room for new methods and ideas.
That was my first real lesson in Zen in the martial arts and its application to life — although at the time I didn't recognize it as Zen. It was merely good sense — which is what Zen really is. Nothing is impossible to the willing mind.
There is quiet authority in everything he says and does. No movement or word is superfluous. He is the traditional martial artist who learned hapkido from his master in Korea who, in turn, learned it from a master who had been taught by a long, continuous line of other masters. A session with Master Han is not just a workout, it is also a lesson in life.
I always feel enriched after leaving his dojang. I was fifty years old when I started the study of hapkido with Master Han. From the beginning the learning process was slow and often difficult for me because hapkido requires an extremely limber body. My body had stiffened with age and I had back problems that threw me off balance and made every kick above waist level painful.
My learning was further complicated by the presence of much younger men who were able to do easily that which required tremendous effort and concentration on my part. There were many times when I considered quitting, a fact Master Han recognized. One afternoon following a workout, Master Han invited me to have tea with him. After he had served the tea, he began, "You will never learn to do any endeavor properly unless you are willing to give yourself time.
I think you are accustomed to having everything come easily to you, but this is not the way of life or of the martial arts. To give yourself time is to actively work toward a goal without setting a limit on how long you will work. I had given myself a set amount of time to become reasonably proficient in his style, and I was frustrating myself because I didn't seem to be achieving the goal quickly enough.
When I eliminated the deadline from my mind it was like removing a weight from my body. Within a few months I was able to perform with the rest of the class. Equally important, I used Master Han's advice to resolve an immediate problem. I was working on a book at that time, and the writing was going slowly. That frustrated me because I had agreed to start another project in short order and it was weighing on my mind. Now I could see that my focus was wrong.
I was doing the same thing I had done with hapkido. I should have been concerned with the process of working on the book rather than on its completion. Once I removed the time constraint from my mind and approached the book without an arbitrary limit, I was able to dedicate myself to the writing and work without anxiety.
For the uncontrolled there is no wisdom, nor for the uncontrolled is there the power of concentration; and for him without concentration there is no peace. And for the unpeaceful, how can there be happiness? I admitted that in truth my mind was elsewhere; I had barely managed to sandwich in my lesson between appointments.
Master Han bowed to me, signifying the lesson was ended. After I had dressed and was on my way out of the dojang, I found him at the doorway waiting for me. Zen teaches that life must be seized at the moment. By living in the present you are in full contact with yourself and your environment, your energy is not dissipated and is always available.
Zen in the Martial Arts
In the present there are no regrets as there are in the past. By thinking of the future, you dilute the present. The time to live is now. One of the major reasons I like martial arts is that it demands total concentration. For a few hours each week I can block out all the problems and pressures of my daily life. The speed with which a martial arts practice session or bout takes place allows no break between "points" or time for reflection. But on that day I had allowed myself to be distracted.
My thoughts were split between the meeting I had just concluded and the one that was about to take place. My mind had not been on the activity of the moment. I realized how often while working I allowed my mind to wander thus, dissipating both energy and concentration. I resolved that I would train myself not to let that happen. I would give each activity my fullest concentration. When I returned to my office, I wrote on a small filing card, "Seize life at the moment," and thumbtacked it over my desk.
The card is still tacked above my desk, and I reread it each time I' find myself distracted. Since that day I have continually reminded-myself to focus on the moment, rather than allowing my mind to wander to past or future. Patience, the essential quality of a man.
Knowing he had been eagerly anticipating the letter, I paused in our conversation, expecting him to tear open the envelope and hastily scan the contents. Instead, he put the letter aside, turned to me, and continued our conversation. The following day I remarked on his self-control, saying that I would have read the letter at once.
Then when I set my hand to it, I opened it as though it were something precious. Finally I said I didn't understand what such patience led to. I seized on this opportunity to tell him that I was discouraged. At forty-five, I felt I was too old and my body too stiff to achieve any real ability in jeet-kune-do.
Everyone has physical limitations to overcome. I became a martial artist in spite of my limitations. In my view, Bruce was a perfect physical specimen and I said so. That fact dictated the best stance for me — my left foot leading.
Then I found that because the right leg was shorter, I had an advantage with certain types of kicks, since the uneven stomp gave me greater impetus. Since childhood I have been nearsighted, which meant that when I wasn't wearing glasses, I had difficulty seeing an opponent when he wasn't up close. I originally started to study wing-chun because it is an ideal technique for close-in fighting. And that's what you must learn to do. You say you are unable to kick over your head without a long warm-up, but the real question is, is it really necessary to kick that high?
The fact is that until recently, martial artists rarely kicked above knee height. Head-high kicks are mostly for show. So perfect your kicks at waist level and they will be so formidable you'll never need to kick higher.
Although most expert martial artists have spent years mastering hundreds of techniques and movements, in a bout, or kumite, a champion may actually use only four or five techniques over and over again. These are the techniques which he has perfected and which he knows he can depend on. You must learn to live in the present and accept yourself for what you are now.
What you lack in flexibility and agility you must make up with knowledge and constant practice. Then one day late in , he came by my house to say goodbye before leaving for Hong Kong where, he said, he intended to become the biggest star in films.
But I have spent the last three years studying movies, and I think the time is ripe for a good martial arts film — and I am the best qualified to star in it. My capabilities exceed my limitations.
His career was a perfect illustration of his teaching: As we discover and improve our strong points, they come to outweigh our weaknesses. Power of mind is infinite while brawn is limited. With the passage of time the belt becomes soiled from handling and use, so the second stage of learning is signified by a brown belt. As more time passes the belt becomes darker until it is black — the black belt stage.
With even more use the black belt becomes frayed, almost white, signifying that the wearer is returning again to innocence — a Zen characteristic of human perfection.
Many martial arts systems have various colors of belts between white and brown as well as degrees of brown and black, a constant reminder to the student that there is more to learn beyond whatever proficiency he or she may already have. This awareness extends even to the masters, each of whom had a master before him.
This endless circle of student and master gives both the teacher and the taught the feeling of being part of a continuum of learning. My own learning experience in the martial arts has always been like a staircase with countless landings. With each step upward the goal — spiritual and physical unification of mind and body — seems nearer.
But there are always landings, or plateaus, at which learning seems to stop and the staircase winds infinitely upward.
At such times I have often felt frustrated and discouraged. I have mentioned this experience to martial-arts friends, and each admits that he, too, reaches such a plateau from time to time. The experience is common to us all. George Waite, my good friend and mentor, recalled his brown belt days in karate and how discouraged he became when he saw someone far better than he, although he considered himself good. I saw that, compared with them, I was good. But then I'd watch the black belts and become inspired all over again, seeing how much better it was possible to become.
When I finally became a black belt I realized that I really knew nothing compared with my sifu, and I was discouraged until he told me how great was his master. Only by constantly exposing myself to someone better than I have I been able to improve. It is inspiring to know that even the masters have; masters, and that we are all learners.
King Huan of Chou heard of Po Kung-i, who was reputed to be the strongest man in his kingdom. The King was dismayed when they met, since Po looked so weak. When the King asked Po how strong he was, Po said mildly, "I can break the leg of a spring grasshopper and withstand the winds of an autumn cicada. How can you be famous? A handsome, six-foot-tall Hawaiian with a thick thatch of black hair, Parker reminded me of a huge tree, with arms like powerful boughs and bare feet rooted firmly on the canvas mat.
Despite his size, he is a whirlwind in motion. He was wearing an old, loosefitting gi, a two-piece cotton uniform worn by most martial artists. The gi, like his black belt, was white in places from fraying and repeated launder-ings. His face was serene and peaceful, as though he had just completed meditating. I well remember one of my initial sessions at his dojo in Los Angeles where I was practicing kumite sparring with a more skillful opponent.
To make up for my lack of knowledge and experience, I tried deceptive, tricky moves that were readily countered.
I was outclassed, and Parker watched me get roundly trounced. When the match was over I was dejected. Parker invited me into his office, a small, sparsely furnished room with only a scarred desk and battered chairs.
I studied the line and gave him several answers, including cutting the line in many pieces. He shook his head and drew a second line, longer than the first. Parker nodded. The next time I went on the mat with the same opponent he, too, had improved.
But I fared far better than I had previously because I had raised my level of knowledge as well as developing my skills. Not long after, I realized I could apply the principle Parker had taught me to my tennis game. An avid weekend tennis player, I frequently found myself pitted against better players, and when things started to go badly for me on the court I often resorted to trickery—slicing the ball, trying to hit it with a spin, attempting difficult drop shots.
Invariably I lost and was frustrated. Instead of trying to better my game I was trying to "cut their line. Keeping Parker's advice in mind, my game improved.
It has been nearly three decades since then, and in the intervening years Parker has taught his art to thousands of students. Even long after their training they think of him as a good friendand as a wise and gentle sifu who embodies the martial arts' spirit and philosophy.
Often, after lessons, the three of us would retire to my backyard and, over a glass of fruit juice, sit and talk. These few moments were precious to me because, invariably, I gained an insight into one or both of my friends. On one such occasion, we talked about the difference between wasting time and spending time.
Bruce was the first to speak. To waste time is to expend it thoughtlessly or carelessly. We all have time to either spend or waste and it is our decision what to do with it. But once passed, it is gone forever. Anyone who steals my time is stealing my life because they are taking my existence from me.
As I get older, I realize that time is the only thing I have left. So when someone comes to me with a project, I estimate the time it will take me to do it and then I ask myself, 'Do I want to spend weeks or months of what little time I have on this project?
Is it worth it or am I just wasting my time? I will not permit people to steal my time. I have limited my friends to those people with whom time passes happily. There are moments in my life— necessary moments—when I don't do anything but what is my choice. The choice of how I spend my time is mine, and it is not dictated by social convention.
When he finally spoke, it was to ask if he could make a telephone call.
When he came back, Bruce was smiling. I realized for the first time how much time I had I been wasting with certain people. I never before considered that they were taking my existence from me, but they were. Because I am a writer and my office is in my house, they assumed I was available for talk or advice on any subject. But after that conversation with Stirling and Bruce, I realized that instead of spending time with them I had been wasting it. I bought a large "Do Not Disturb" sign that I hung outside my office door and I installed a telephone-answering machine.
To my surprise, my work output almost doubled. I had taken a step toward controlling my use of time. Life unfolds on a great sheet called Time, and once finished it is gone forever. Bronny is courtly, elegant, and a gentleman in the European style.
Born in Poland and educated in Warsaw and Berlin, he was a junior sabre champion by the age of eighteen and is still considered one of the best sabre-men on the West Coast, even though he is now in his late sixties. One day I telephoned him to see whether he was available for lunch. This concept of doing nothing, which has nothing to do with just not doing something, is also an activity and an exercise.
A pause is not lack of music, it is an integral part of the composition. If a conductor does not hold a pause to its full value, it is like cutting into the flesh. As Claude Debussy has said, 'Music is the space between the notes. Bruce laughed and said, "He's right, you know.
That pause if the middle of action is one of my secrets, too. Many martial artist attack with the force of a storm without observing the effect of their attack on their opponent. When I attack, I always try to pause—stop' action—to study my opponent and his reactions before going into action again.
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I include pause and silence along with activity, thus allowing myself time to sense my own internal processes as well as my opponent's. Most martial artists use a set pattern of techniques repeatedly.
But Bruce was never locked into a routine. He was, in a sense constantly conducting an environmental impact report on his own activity—pausing to assess, adjust, and correct according to the demands of the situation. He never allowed his opponent to dictate his actions. Instead, he forced his opponent to react to him, pausing frequently to regroup and reform his approach.
Recently I found a way to fit this abstract idea of "stop action into my life. For some time I had allowed my work schedule pattern my life. Then one day I was overwhelmed by the pressure I realized that there was a parallel with my experiences on the mat when engaged in a bout with an overpowering opponent. During such a bout, I often heeded Bruce's words and paused to regroup and then attempted to take the initiative.
Why wouldn't this method work with my present problem? Despite all the pressures, I decided to take a day off, a pause during which I planned to do nothing, and study the situation. The pause worked wonders for me. I assessed my predicament, settled on a future course of behavior, and decided that I would take the initiative in determining my own life schedule.
I had discovered that doing nothing can sometimes be more important than doing something. The mind should be nowhere in particular. Lau is of medium height and slight, with arms and legs of tempered steel but as flexible as willow wands.
He can stand nose to nose with an opponent and still kick him in the jaw! As a first-time visitor to Jim Lau's wing-chun academy in a converted store in Los Angeles, I was surprised to discover all the students wearing street clothing. Lau himself was wearing a red Mickey Mouse T-shirt and blue sweat pants.
When we were introduced, I bowed to him as is customary when one meets a martial artist of higher rank. He ignored my bow, shook hands, and insisted I call him Jim. That air of informality is typical of wing-chun, also called Chinese pugilism," which is now one of the most popular martial arts styles in Hong Kong and Europe and is quickly gaining popular ity in American because of its simplicity and realistic approach to fighting.
Wing-chun has no system of rank, no colored belts to designate novice from instructor. When a student has reached a certain level of proficiency, the sifu may give him a small medallion J or personal token of esteem.
Unlike Bruce, who was dedicated to becoming a film star, Jim Lau's primary ambition is to introduce his art to a growing number of devoted followers, most of whom have come to him experienced in other martial arts.
Despite Jim's casual teaching style, he feels a great responsibility for the progress and welfare of each student. One day recently we were practicing "sticking hands," an exercise in which your hands seem to stick to those of your opponent's—thus its name.
Through this training, wing-chun students learn to interpret the silent messages telegraphed by their partner's hands. It can give a clue to whether the next blow will be an uppercut, a roundhouse swing, or a straight thrust.
Losing contact with your partner's hand allows it to strike you. Pushing against his hand overextends you, and you can easily be knocked off balance.
In this exercise, both partners try to interpret the other's signals while concealing his own. The technique teaches you to ward off an oncoming attack and still remain centered and in control, neither overreacting nor underreacting. The result is often a stalemate. The exercise frustrated me because Jim was able to read my intentions through the sensitivity of his touch on my hands, much as a mentalist reads minds. I frequently became impatient and attempted to land a blow; but Jim sensed my intention each time, countered the move even before I made it, and always caught me off balance.
Finally he stepped back and held up his hand, signalling the end of my lesson. I walked with him to his car. Before an exchange of blows, several minutes may be spent in controlled patience and planning while each man respectfully observes his opponent, studying his position or stance, watching, getting ideas, and charging his energy. When one man thinks he is going to attack, his opponent may quickly change his stance.
If he has overreacted, his opponent makes a note of it. This is a weakness which he will later attempt to use to his advantage. The good player is patient. He is observant, controlling his patience, and organizing his composure. When he sees an opportunity he explodes. I had gone expecting to see a magnificent display of flashing acrobats and whirling limbs.
Instead I saw two men in fighting stance study each other warily for several minutes. Unlike boxing, there were no feints, no tentative jabs. For the most part, the masters were still as statues. Suddenly, one of them burst into movement so quickly that I was unable to grasp what had happened, although I did see his opponent hurtle backward.
The match was over and the two masters bowed to each other. I told Jim about this event at my next lesson. When a problem arises, don't fight with it or try to deny it. Accept and acknowledge it. Be patient in seeking a solution or opening, and then fully commit yourself to the resolution you think advisable.
There is a coexisting relationship between you. You coexist with your opponent and become his complement, absorbing his attack and using his force to overcome him. I was aware of aikido, of course, and was interested in learning it someday, but I was heavily involved in karate and thought I would wait. Then on a visit to London some years ago, I noticed a poster advertising an aikido lecture and decided to attend.
The lecture took place in a store converted into a small dojo within the shadow of the London post-office tower. The practice hall was packed with spectators sitting cross-legged on a mat watching the master, a young Japanese wearing a white tunic and black hekama, or skirt, the aikido costume of a master.
He looked fragile and vulnerable as he faced half-a-dozen burly men who circled him menacingly. As they began to close in on him, the master remained still, calm, and poised, standing in the eye of the hurricane. Suddenly with loud shouts they attacked him in unison. What happened then was magnificent. The master seemed to flow like water into the mass. Swirling between them, his black skirt seemed to surround them.
Every time they reached to strike his body, it was not there. As a gyroscope spins faster and faster, its motion appears more calm; so it was with the master as he diverted the energy; of his attackers and projected them one by one out of the melee. It was over in moments.
The master, still calm, his mouth set in a slight smile, turned to the audience and bowed to their applause, He then bowed humbly to the student attackers who, in turn, bowed respectfully to him.
The master's actions looked so effortless that I knew there was something below the surface which could not be readily seen, some-thing unexplained. So there was, he said.
It was ki, the invisible life force or energy that cannot be seen but that most martial artists especially aikidoists, train to develop. Looking for a way to get into shape just in time for summer?
Look no further! WIN the ultimate Audiobook experience! Enter here no download necessary. Join Now Login. Click to Preview. Other books by author Aug Yahoo Advertiser Work Book Reads: Quit Smoking Right Now Reads:Thus the art of fighting with the sword, kenjutsu, became transformed into "the way of the sword," kendo.
Potential participants had to answer two questions before they took the survey: 1 Have you ever practiced martial arts? I had been trying to anticipate Stirling's moves rather than respond to them; I was concerned with my footwork instead of letting my training lead me naturally to the right position. Thus, what may seem like an object may perhaps be better construed as an event or a process.
But, suppose I am physically threatened within my circle? This study provides both theoretical and empirical contributions.
Modern period to present Indian martial arts underwent a period of decline after the full establishment of British colonial rule in the 19th century.