Life And Death in the Thickness of Paper.

From Budotheory.ca by Rick Rowell 3-Oct-11

In the description of the real duel between Miyamoto Musashi and Sasaki Kojiro made famous in the novel Musashi by Eji Yoshikawa, Musashi had his headband (Hachimaki) cut by Kojiro's sword the same instant he killed Kojiro with a wooden sword carved from a boat oar. Kojiro may have died with a smile on his face, thinking he had cut Musashi. Musashi, however, fully understood the concept of Interval (Ma-ai) and its relation to time. Kojiro's sword was a fraction of an inch too far away, but Musashi’s was not. The ability to judge the distance between your opponent within one inch or less can mean the difference between life and death.

There are a number of distance concepts used in the martial arts, but I am going to focus on two that are essentially the same principle and related:

• Issun no Ma-ai – literally “One Sun Interval”. A sun is an old Japanese unit of measurment a little over an inch long (1 sun = 3.03 cm). For the sake of clarity let’s translate it as “One Inch Interval”
  



• Kami Shitoe – can be variously translated as “The difference in the thickness of a piece of paper,” hair's breath, razor's edge, paper thin, or nick of time.

The two ideas are essentially the same principle. To illusrate the principle, the figure below is a stylized overhead view of an attacker and defender. The person attacking is the black circle.

A. Shows two opponents facing each other from a slightly Toma (Far Interval ) distance—the starting position of the engagement.

B. Shows the defender maintaining the same distance from the attacker by shifting back at the same rate the attacker moves forward. Tactically this gains no advantage because it maintains the distance the defender will have to cross in order to counterattack. Any counterattack takes longer—because you have to cross a larger gap, and that takes time. A large spatial gap also gives your opponent the opportunity to re-take the initiative (Go no Sen) from you, or at the very least to strike you at the same time you strike him (Aiuchi, mutual striking). This type of movement (maintaining distance) can be useful if you are not ready to engage and want to remain at a safe distance outside the opponent’s Hitting Distance (Uchi no Ma-ai).

C. Shows the principle of “One Inch Interval” or “Difference in the Thickness of Paper.” Reducing distance by controlling movement backward to just outside the attacker’s range, means you are still a hair’s breadth out of range—in other words, safe. Tactically, you gain advantage because your counterattack does not have as far to go to reach the opponent and is hence faster.

D. Shows the same concept only by Shifting to the side or Entering (Sabaki or Irimi) and actually moving toward the attacker and just evading the attack by the “thickness of a piece of paper.” Tactically this makes the counterattack faster yet again.

The Issun no Ma-ai/Kami Shitoe concept can be used with any timing concept (Go no Sen, Tai no Sen, Sen no Sen) whether you block or not. The important aspect of this principle is that it is used to tactically retake initiative and make it very hard for your opponent to deal with a counterattack that is both compressed in time and space.

One Inch Distance (Issun no Ma-ai) is a critical concept in combat because it is not wasteful of time or distance, can be used with all timing approaches, and—now matter how strongly an opponent attacks, a miss is a still a miss. A miss by only one inch leaves you alive just as much as a miss by two feet, but the smaller miss leaves you in position to immediately exploit the opponent's weakness (Kyo) that inevitably follows his missed attack.

Kami Shitoe is sometimes referred to as having life on one side of the paper and death on the other and hence the idea of the razor’s edge between life and death.

Miyamoto Musashi in his book Go Rin no Sho , written in the seventeenth century uses a very similar concept when he discusses the Spark of Flint Hit (Sekka no Atari to iu Koto).

“The ‘Spark of Flint’ means to strike with a great deal of force when the opponent’s long sword and yours are close enough to be barely touching, but without raising your long sword in the slightest. This means cutting quickly with hands, body and legs—all three cutting strongly. If you train enough you will be able to strike strongly.”

Musashi’s example shows how by lifting the hands the sword moves away from the opponent and increases the distance away from the opponent. Cutting immediately reduces time and distance, but you have to practice to become sufficiently strong enough to cut with force.

In unarmed martial arts such as Karate, the principle is no different. Moving just out of range of a punch or kick, then immediately countering is a common tactic in more experienced Budoka than in beginners.

The principle of minimizing or closing distance is as old as warfare, but you can challenge yourself to use this concept in other ways. Can you find examples in negotiation, hockey, formula one racing, or baseball?

The principle of “One Inch Interval” (Issun no Ma-ai) or “The Difference in the Thickness of a Piece of Paper” (Kami Shitoe) moves you toward tactical advantage over an opponent by manipulating time and space to stay just out of range of your opponents attack, and hastening contact with a counterattack.

There are many other distance and timing principles used in the martial arts.

Consider Budo Theory: Exploring Martial Arts Principles as a reference to learn more.

The 100 ^th Soldier, or What is Winning?

From Budotheory.ca By Rick Rowell 20-May-11

We all like to win. Win a tournament, baseball game, or crib game with our grandfather. But have you ever considered what winning is?

I remember placing second in a karate tournament. Feeling pretty good about it, I had a satisfied smile. Sensei Akutagawa looked at me and said, "You're still dead. If you were on the battlefield and killed ninety-nine of the enemy and the last one kills you, you are still just as dead as if the first one had killed you."

Of course Sensei was telling me that if my goal was to win the tournament, I failed, and to encourage me to train even harder. Until then, I viewed a tournament just as a series of separate tactical engagements. If I was successful in each engagement they would accumulate to winning the tournament. I never considered anything beyond each engagement. In this tournament I lost to the "100 ^th soldier."

Something Bigger

Sensei's words sparked another line of thinking in me. There is a bigger picture here. One that I really never considered before. What did I accomplish in the tournament? And if I was on the battlefield what would I accomplish by killing ninety-nine enemy soldiers before expiring myself?

As I thought about this, I realized that there was a conceptual approach that linked the series of tactical engagements (each match) to the strategic goal of winning the tournament. Each opponent had to be treated differently tactically based on what they tended to do. Watching other competitors in their matches helped formulate tactical approaches when it was my turn to meet them. Some matches were more important than others. Sometimes where you were placed in the draw made a difference. As my competitive career gained more depth, I learned that if you could, you won as quickly as possible because the less time you spent getting banged up by each engagement the more capability you had later in the final matches when it mattered.

In team matches, sometimes gaining a draw against a stronger competitor by fighting a defensive engagement helped your team win the overall match. Tactically you weren't going for the win, you were defensive and maintaining the initiative for your team, while strategically your team was offensive and going for the win. In this case, holding the stronger competitor from winning (Victory Denial) keeps the opposing team from getting ahead where they want to against a weaker opponent.

I saw strong competitors get so lost in winning the tactical engagement that they were disqualified for excessive contact. A solid tactical win against the opponent, but a complete failure in the the tournament. They failed to link tactical action with strategic success.

Then I asked myself "Is it possible to lose and still win?" (I'll answer this question at the end of the article.)

In Strategic terms the link between the tactical level and strategic level is call the operational level. The operational level is where you take tactical objectives and outcomes and weave them toward your strategic goal.

Defining Success

Winning all boils down to what you decide success is, and equally importantly what level you look at it from. Tactical, operational, and strategic levels act a markers to decide what success is:

• Strategic Level -  What is your overall goal—your vision of the desired future?
  Operational Level - What are the major sub-goals that directly support your Strategic goal? And how can you combine tactical outcomes to support the strategic goal?
  Tactical Level - How do you combine technique to achieve a positive tactical outcome that supports operational goals?

Goals are relative. Goals can be different between individuals. Your opponent might want to kill you, and you just want to survive, escape, avoid, or control him (such as a police officer making and arrest). You might want to kill him also, but you might also want to make him an ally, friend, or communicate a misunderstanding. Victory denial, stopping your opponent from achieving some goal, may be considered a win (as our example above shows).

To the coach with a bunch of young competitors, winning means that everyone had a learning experience and 16 medals came back to the dojo. To an individual elite athlete, winning means a chance to compete at a higher level.

Winning doesn't even have to mean a physical confrontation. Deterrence is a form of victory denial. Deterrence is about behavior modification by credible consequence. It is a concept that just by offering the potential of combat makes the opponent think twice about trying to achieve his goal. It says that if you proceed, the cost of doing so is going to severely outweigh the benefits accrued. The "consequence" threat. If you stay out past your curfew, then I will not be taking you to your hockey game on Saturday (too bad you are in the playoffs).

Deterrence can be an accumulation of little things that reduce risk for you while increasing the risk of failure to the opponent. Moving to a more lighted area, or areas with more people, and travelling in groups are ways of reducing your risk while increasing failure risk for a potential attacker.

Victory Denial and Deterrence are just two of a number of strategic concepts that can shape our concept of winning, and they can be used at any level of strategy. We can conclude that winning can mean different things.

Winning on One Level Doesn't Necessarily Mean Winning on Another

Winning at the tactical level doesn’t necessarily mean winning at the operational or strategic level.  For example, you have two assailants that are about to attack your wife and daughter. Your main (strategic) goal is to prevent them from being attacked. So, you wade in and engage the first assailant and you thrash him—a decisive tactical victory. However, assailant #2 assaulted your wife while you were engaged with assailant #1—a strategic loss. Because you were focused on the tactical aspect of the engagement you missed the potential of operational approaches to success such as diversion, trading space for time so they could escape, protecting a choke point where the assailants have to come at you one at a time in sequence, etc.

Countries can win wars, but loose stability and peace because of it. Winning at the tactical level does not mean similar strategic results. What necessarily follows is the understanding that winning individual battles that don’t support strategic goals are meaningless . Getting disqualified in a tournament even though you are tactically superior to your opponent does not support winning the tournament. This teaches us that we should understand what our goal is carefully and then determine and consider the approaches we will or can take to realize that goal. This provides us with a useful tool to assess and re-evaluate our strategy as it unfolds.

Using This Understanding Anywhere

There are countless areas in your life that you can use these concepts.

Jim is a salesman and has been working hard to land a contract with Company Z. He keeps cutting the price of the contract until Company Z decides the offer is too good to pass up. Jim is ecstatic about finally landing the contract. He has won a decisive tactical victory over his competitor who had been supplying Company Z for the last five years. Jim’s manager however, after going through the implications of the big order from a supply point of view, comes to the conclusion that they will not to be able to deliver the goods at the required time. In addition, their supplier just increased prices for materials by 22% and they are going to loose money on the contract because Jim has low-balled the contract to get it. Jim’s manager is looking at an operational loss. At the strategic level, if Jim’s company is late with delivery, it means that company Z is going to have problems and possibly decide never to use Jim’s company for any business in the future. This is a strategic loss for repeat business.

For Jim it is a tactical win
For Jim’s manager it is an operational loss
And for Jim’s Company it is a strategic loss

A tactical win is relatively easy to assess because the assessment is based on outcomes. You beat up an attacker, Jim gets the contract, a platoon leader defeats the machine gun and takes control of the area, a submarine captain sinks a destroyer. All of these are fairly straightforward objectives that are easy to measure. But what is the result to your overall goal?

Operational success is similar and sometimes a little harder to assess because it relies on a number of tactical outcomes. You use the concept a combination of deterrence by threatening to take the computer away and placing the garbage bag in the middle of his bedroom to make sure your teenage son takes out the garbage.

But the strategic goal is what matters. Sinking the wrong destroyer, or the right one at the wrong time may affect negotiations at the strategic level. Putting the garbage in your son's bedroom may create backlash if your overall goals is to teach him responsibility.

In simple cases, the tactical objective, operational goal and strategic end can all be the same thing. Let’s use the example of surviving an assault in a back alley.

If my strategic goal is to survive the assault, then killing my opponent in a tactical engagement satisfies my strategic goal, but so does running away, imobilizing my opponent by breaking a leg, or using a stun gun. Tactically I can use any of these approaches if they are available to me. Operationally, I may be limited based on legal requirements in terms of appropriatness (he only wants my sandwhich, but I kill him - might be viewed by society as a bad approach that requires sanction) and pre-emption (I kill him immediately before he has time to pull his knife - You might be viewed as the attacker). In all the the examples, you survive, but some ways will have more strategic consequences than others.

Military history full of examples where the cost of a tactical victory directly caused strategic defeat. If you use all your resources to achieve a tactical victory, you have nothing left for the next battle. So, if I single handedly defeat 99 enemy soldiers by fighting a tactically defensive battle and die by the hand of the 100th soldier, but have depleated the enemy ranks so than my side can now switch to the strategic offense, I have contributed to a strategic victory.

Components of Winning

Decisiveness (Is the issue resolved?) Decisivness relates to the effect your strategy has on your circumstance. Decisiveness ranges along a spectrum of outcomes that range from having no effect to an effect that completely resolves the issue. It can also range negatively to worsened conditions and achieving exactly opposite of your goal.

Achievement (Did we achieve the desired end?) Achievement relates to how well you execute your strategy. Do tactical objectives and outcomes support operational goals, and do operational goals and outcomes support your strategic end. Achievement is another spectrum ranging from failure to achieving nothing to being completely successful. The achievement scale is by far the primary scale in tactical and operational assessments of victory and is often confused with success.

Permanence (How long do you win for?) Our success can be transitory or permanent. The effects of a tactical victory may only last minutes to hours. As an example the enemy may regroup and counterattack. The snipe at your wife may mean only a fleeting victory that changes the strategic environment toward a negative achievement in relation to a healthy relationship. A strategic victory must have some permanence. Success (realizing your goal) needs to have a longer-term.

You can assess winning at any level of strategy by achievement, decisiveness and permanence. And above all, a tactical victory must support an operational goal and an operational victory must support a strategic end.

Is it Possible to Lose and Still Win?

Of course it is. Failure is the other side of success; part of the duality of Kyo-Jitsu (Yin-Yang in Budo speak). I remember my sister telling me this.

The secret to success is easy to express;
You just fail, and fail, and fail again;
But less, and less, and less.

And that is why I still practice punching and cutting. In the dojo I can make mistakes galore and through the interations of failure I learn to be more successful. The dojo is the place to make mistakes--and correct them. In circumstances outside the Dojo with high consequence (no ability for correcting mistakes) you want to meet the 100th soldier with a clear understanding of what you are doing and why, because it may open tactical, and operational approaches that you never considered before.

Universal Martial Arts Philosophy?

From Budotheory.ca By Rick Rowell 27-Jun-11

I was reading a forum post about the idea of "Martial Arts Philosophy" and the poster asked a relevant question worth exploring:

"Lots of people talk about the "martial arts philosophy" as though it were some unified, coherent thing. But the more I think about it, the less I'm able to think of a single universally held belief relative to martial arts.

At first glance, something like effort seems like a universally valued attribute. But then you look at something like taijiquan and see that effortlessness is the order of the day. And that seeking to overcome through effort is missing the point entirely.

Honour is all over the map. You get all sorts of romantic notions about codes of conduct. But then you get much more utilitarian ideas from the RBSD [reality based self-defense] crowd and various other cultures. I think FMA [fillipino martial arts] tends to be fairly "all's fair..." And capoeira's concept of malicia raises trickiness to an ideal. (One I endorse, by the way. Not criticising.)

So can anyone think of anything that is actually true across the board? Or is the idea of a martial arts philosophy as flawed as I think it is?"

http://www.martialartsplanet.com/forums/showthread.php?t=102668

Martial arts are just one of many life paths that can fulfill (or destroy) human potential. Many martial arts principles echo those we find in other philosophies. Partly because they evolved together and also from their unique martial perspective.

There are universally held beliefs relative to the martial arts. A few that immediately come to mind are:

• Duality (yin-yang, in-yo, kyo-jitsu)
• Learning stages (gyo-shugyo-jitsu)
• Ki (chi, prana)
• Mental states (Mushin, Fudoshin, Heijoshin, Myoshin, Isshin etc.)
• Hard and soft approaches (Juho and Goho - really a subset of duality)

The interesting paradox is how can the study of violence lead to a better human being?

Miyamoto Musashi in his work Go Rin no Sho stated that Heiho (strategy) is a method to find enlightenment. Later in life, he seems to have pierced the paradox. There are many old sayings such as 'Ken zen ichi Ryo'- The sword and Zen are the same path that indicate there are many parallels between martial philosophy and other philosophies.

We can't help but tap into universal principles no matter what flavor of martial art (or any serious exploration) we study. If you take a handful of sand and trickle it on a table, each separate sand grain falls chaotically in ways that are totally unpredictable. But as the sand accumulates, the sand pile takes on a certain cone-like shape, despite the randomness of the moving sand grains. Maybe it is this pattern we end up discovering when we take a step back from the multitude of martial styles and "philosophies."

There are universal martial arts principles, but they are no different than those found by other seekers along different paths. We have a unique path that makes us seek from a particular perspective. The deeper we dig, we find principles that have wider and wider application to our lives. The question this person asked tells me he is digging past the outside (omote), looking for what is inside (ura). Not everyone does that. Many are happy with all the technical details of their chosen martial art (omote).

The truth has many flavours. As my mom used to say, "There are many paths to the top of the mountain."

The Greek philosopher Epictetus said:

"All things receive their character from our judgment concerning them; all objects, all events, are merely semblances or phenomena, to be interpreted according to the laws which nature gives us."

How you interpret your chosen martial art and the principles you learn from it is up to you.

In the book Eat Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, her Balinese mentor discussed the idea of polarity or duality:

"To up, to down - all same end. Universe is a circle. Difference between Heaven and Hell - Heaven you go up through 7 happy places, Hell you go down through 7 sad places. This is why it is better to go up through the 7 happy places - Since the destination is the same. Same in end - better to be happy on your journey."

I think this is true. From a martial arts perspective, you can be the meanest 'bad ass' there is and use your talents negatively. But martial arts are a means to an end not the end in itself. What is your end? Mine is to become a better person, and like our Balinese teacher said, I'd rather be happy. Using your talent negatively will only bring you through the seven sad places.

Because I choose to aspire to go through the seven happy places doesn't mean I don't understand the negative. After all I have studied how to do horrible things to other humans for almost 40 years. And it teaches me just how precious life is. Funny how duality can do that. I think we have a dual path that is both positive and negative and we need them both to really understand that happiness is a preference that you have to work at.

The poster of this question uses attributes like effort and effortlessness and if you look through his question he talks about Honor, to anything goes as martial arts philosophies. These are all sand grains of duality.  What it really boils down to is:

Are you chasing the path of an individual sand grain (honor, benevolence, deception, hate, fear, happiness, violence, peace, technique) or seeking the shape of the sand pile--an integrated whole made up of all the good and bad, that is somehow greater than each grain? I think both.

Duality is a fundamental and universal principle in the martial arts, but cannot claim ownership of this principle. We see it everywhere. Our martial path is a way of learning to see its possibilities if you really look.

There is a term Perception of Duality (Kan Kyo Jitsu) used in the Japanese martial arts that refers to a deep understanding of duality. For me it is the sand pile and the grains together. A shape to live by.

I call it BUDO, but there are many other names.

You might also be interested in the Article Small Way (Shodo) and Great Way (Daido)

Consider investing in you martial journey with a copy of Budo Theory .

I'm Still a Man With a Stick

But Have a Goal Called Muto (No Sword)

From Budotheory.ca By Rick Rowell  6-May-11

I remember practicing Staff Basics (Bo Kihon) in the dojo with Sensei Akutagawa watching. He corrected a few things and then said something that at once surprised me, and then was so totally obvious that it was one of those slap in the forehead moments (why didn’t I see that before!).

He said that all staff techniques were the same as the unarmed techniques we used in Karate. The blocks were the same, thrusting with the staff was the same as the punching, and the bottom of the staff rising upward was just like a front kick. To anyone who studies Kobudo ("Old Martial Way" but commonly used to reference Okinawan weapons such as the Bo, Sai, Tonfa and Kai), the Okinawan weapons such as the Tonfa and Sai are used as extensions to our existing unarmed technique. This is nothing new. In fact all weapons as an extension of our bodies.

But then, Sensei continued with his stick analogy using an inductive reasoning approach (going from a specific to a generality) and took me to a new place of thinking about my Karate, Kobudo and Iaido. He went the other way. He reversed the question and instead of saying the Bo was an extension of the body, he said the body was an extension of sticks. The structure of our body was really a bunch of connected sticks, and we use those sticks just like we use the Bo.

For example, we use the end of the Bo for striking, and when we make a fist, we are striking with the end of the bones in our hand. When we strike with an elbow or knee, we are doing the same. Even when we kick, for example, front kick, we are kicking with the ball of the foot which is the end of the tarsal bones and metatarsals.

While the ends of the Staff are used for striking, the center portion of the staff is used for blocking, controlling and deflecting, just like we do in Karate.  Many of our blocks use the forearm to catch and deflect an incoming punch. While there are a number of notable exceptions to this generality, this way of looking at the body gives you a tool that can be used when you pick up a weapon or as you practice unarmed technique.

A weapon becomes an extension of those sticks in your body. When I first started Iaido, the sword felt awkward in my hands, but as a came to realize that it was and extension of my existing linkage of sticks (bones), the sword began to take on a familiarity.

There are three training stages you go through when picking up a weapon.

First you are a man with a stick (or man with a sword, gun etc.)—meaning that the stick and the man are considered separate things. It feels like the weapon is a distinct and apart from you. I'll use an analogy of chopping wood with an axe. If you are using an axe and swinging it like a hatchet, your technique is likely to suffer. Trying to swing your axe with a quick chopping movement using your wrist is likely to be inefficient and weak. Whereas swinging the axe with the arms in a full arc will be much more effective. Here the length of the tool requires it to be used with larger movements. Likewise swinging a hatchet like an axe is likely to be equally ineffective and possibly dangerous to you. Each tool has a natural swing and has a natural cadence.

The second stage is where you are a stickman (swordsman, or marksman)—meaning the stick and the man become extensions of each other. There is a familiarity with your weapon, you know how it balances, your muscles feel comfortable with its weight and you know how to use it naturally. But what happens when you loose your weapon or have none to begin with when you need it?

The final stage is when the man and the sword are one –meaning there is no man and no sword, just a single entity. By understanding the body is made up of a series of connected sticks, adding one more or not does not make any difference. The arm becomes a sword if you don't have one, if there is a stick available then it is used without thinking. This is the essence of a concept called Muto (No Sword).

Muto, however, goes well beyond technical  application  and  is  not  about  technique,  but  more  a  state  of  mind.  When one  has  reached  the  state  of  No  Sword (Muto), one does not need a sword. Yagyu Munenori , a famous seventeenth century swordsman describes  some  of  the  aspects of Muto Tori in the following:

"If  you  can  adopt  as  your  sword even the one you take from your opponent   when   you   do   not   have   one, shouldn't  you  be  able  to  make  use  of whatever else you may have on hand? Even with a fan, you should be able to defeat  an  opponent  equipped  with  a sword.  No-sword  means  the  readiness to do this."

His  statement  is  actually  very  profound,  as  it  refers  to  the  ability  to  meet the  opponent  in  a  fluid  and  confident way, a way in which one is able to see the possibilities of the engagement all around him.  This  means  being  able  to  use the  environment  around  oneself  in  order to defeat the opponent. All possibilities exist—because you are the weapon.

Standing under a tree limb to prevent the  opponent  from  slashing  downward, using a stick to parry the cut, maneuvering  the  opponent  so  the  sun  is  in  his eyes,  are  ways  you  can  utilize  the  surrounding   environment.   The   ability   to even  take  the  opponent's  sword  and  use it against him is also a possibility.

Taking  this  idea  of  No  Sword  (Muto) further,   Yamaoka   Tesshu,   founder   of Muto  Ryu  (No  Sword  Style)  describes  it this way:

“Outside   the   mind   there   is  no sword.  Therefore,  when  facing  an  opponent, there is no enemy in front and no self behind. Miraculously, all boundaries are extinguished and no trace remains. This is No Sword.”

Sounds  remarkably  like  Zen—and  the collapse of Duality.

When it comes to Kobudo and Iaido, I’m still a man with a stick, which means I still have a lot of quality time in the dojo to look forward to. When it comes to Karate, I have 206 sticks that I still am learning to coordinate in new and wonderful ways. Even though Sensei Akutagawa has passed away, I know he is smiling down at me knowing that my head is full of sticks (literally and metaphorically).

I still maybe a man with a stick (probably one too many), but I have a goal called Muto. Or in the case of the Staff - Mubo (No Staff). Which means the concept I am really after is Mushin (No Mind), but that is another story. I still have sticks in my head that I have to gt rid of.

If you would like to learn more about concepts such as Muto, consider Budo Theory: Exploring Martial Arts Principles .