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Although it’s hard to believe, you can actually be too dependent upon your instructor for guidance. There comes a stage when you must start to think for yourself in order to grow. Traditional martial artists have a special word for the three stages of growth – Shuhari. It’s actually three words, shu, ha, and, well, I’m going to leave you guessing about the last word, but I’ll give you a hint – it starts with r and has an i in it. In the shu stage, you have no skills whatsoever, so you are totally dependent upon your instructor for guidance. You follow everything he says to the letter, duplicating his stances, moving as he says, and acting as he says. This is the only way that you can learn lots of complex concepts. The only trouble is, all too many, dare I even say, most people get stuck in this stage, and never move beyond it. They look to their instructor to do their thinking for them, and even when they should be starting to think for themselves, they are unable to apply concepts that they’ve learned, outside the context in which they’ve learned them. So for instance, they might understand the need for timing, when punching in first kata, but get them to do punches in a moving combination they’ve not done before, and unless they’re expressly reminded to think about the timing of their punch, they’ll happily stomp their foot down first, then punch afterwards. The ha stage is probably where most reasonably dedicated martial artists get to. I would estimate that most people reach it some time around the late kyu, early black belt grades – 2nd or 3rd dan maybe. In this stage, the karateka realises that the rules are not absolute, and he sees exceptions to most of them. Like a teenager starting to develop independence from his parent, he starts to understand that the early framework of basics is not an absolute, rigid steel box, rather the “rules” are actually little more than signposts placed there by the sensei to guide you on your journey. Moreover, most of these techniques are simply the first stage in an evolutionary process, which will require them to let go of what they think they know to keep on evolving. The trouble arises here, when the student makes this understanding, but his sensei does not. Thus, the sensei tries to enforce the rules more and more rigidly, and tries to hold the student ever-more tightly, adding more and more rules to reinforce the original rules, until the student suffocates under the weight of them all, or breaks free never to return. This is not particularly a GKR phenomenon, rather one that I’ve seen repeated time and again across the martial arts world. Just like a good parent, a good sensei guides the student towards maturity, but encourages him to think for himself at all times. He explains to the student that some rules are there to develop essential skills, and will eventually be discarded, whilst other rules are less flexible, and should likely be adhered to forever. For instance, setting your hips to 45 degrees whilst blocking in first kata is an important tool to develop awareness of hips and the power that they can add to your techniques, but as you evolve, you will seek to minimise the scale of your hip movements in favour of economy, speed, timing, synchronisation, and more. On the other hand, not putting your thumb inside your fist when you punch is a fairly immutable rule. There’s never a time when it would be safe to punch in this way. The final stage is ri – darn – now I’ve given the game away! In this stage, the martial artist throws the rule book away altogether, and synthesises his own martial system customised to his own body, abilities, and the skills he has spent years developing. By this stage, the skills are wholly instinctive. Like water flowing down a mountain, the ri martial artist seeks freedom from the predictability of the river course, instead, he makes his own way down the mountain in the most economical and effective path for him, no longer needing to go where the masses go. I suspect that most of us will never train hard enough or long enough to reach this level. I imagine that it must be like when a bird stops thinking about how to flap its wings, and simply soars, dips and explores the entire freedom of the sky. Now these three stages of development seem to occur quite naturally to anyone who learns with the correct attitude, and the correct guide. I know that some instructors might try to tell you that theirs is the only way forwards, and in the beginning maybe they’re right, but sooner or later, you’re going to have to cut the apron-strings and think for yourself. I’m not suggesting that you stop training with your instructor – far from it! Hopefully, he or she will always be a guide on your journey, or perhaps your relationship will change and you’ll become fellow travellers. However, if you want to grow and move onto the next stage of your karate, I strongly encourage you to train with other instructors too. Attend every seminar you can, visit other classes, ask questions. Most importantly, broaden your experience and knowledge base so that you can understand the biggest picture of what it means to be a GKR karateka.
There is a school of thought that suggests that you should unquestioningly follow your instructor forever, but that’s rubbish, and is primarily reinforced by insecure instructors who are more concerned about your loyalty, than your well-being. Your instructor, no matter how amazing, does not know everything about everything. If he’s smart, he will do his utmost to learn as much as possible, so that he can continue to help you for a long, long time, but if he chooses not to expand his own knowledge, then you have no obligation to be limited by his inexperience. I’ve recently hear about several instructors in other styles, who threaten their students with expulsion if they ever dare to train in other styles or with other instructors. This attitude sickens me, and it’s at complete odds with an instructor’s obligation to develop their students. Are they so arrogant to believe that theirs is the only way, or; and this is more usually the case; so insecure that they don’t want their students exposed to other influences? According to Bill Burgar1, in the olden days, students visited experts in each field that they wanted to know about. Then came the first world war, and Japan wanted to develop an unquestioning combat mentality amongst its youth, and a whole new rigid training structure was developed around the martial arts.
In the British army, this sort of mentality is achieved, even to this day, with regular drills, rigid discipline, a routine of boot polishing, uniforms and a strict hierarchy. It’s a different system, but the end objective is the same. However, the point is, the system of unquestioning, undying loyalty to one’s sensei, was never about improvement as a fighter, nor even about improvement of the spirit; it was about obedience and control. You can easily see how this system has been readily adopted and repeated by senseis down the generations – after all, it teaches the students to venerate the teacher, and encourages dependence. This system is far easier for the student too – after all, all he has to do is do whatever he’s told, without ever applying any real thought to anything. But if you want to grow, you need to realise that wonderful though your instructor hopefully is, you need to apply critical analysis to what he or she says. It probably wouldn’t do to question everything, and I certainly think that there ARE many times to do, don’t ask. But I just remind you that the picture is far, far bigger than any one martial artist is capable of knowing. Even the 9th and 10th dan masters of the world still have their detractors, and many, many other experts who disagree with their martial philosophies, so your humble instructor definitely has just a small piece of an infinitely large puzzle, and ultimately it will be up to you to use your own mind to put the pieces together in the way that’s best for you. 1. Five Years One Kata |
