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Spirit Forging by Rob Jacob
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“… there was a clarity of spirit that lifted fighters out of themselves to a level of performance surpassing normal limitations.” Joko Ninomiya-My Journey In Karate-The Sabaki Way
The other night at Aikido I informed Sensei Brian Martens that my birthday would be on Thursday, and inquired about the ceremony of being thrown repeatedly by all the people in the class. I semi-jokingly asked if I would be thrown forty-two times for my age. He seemed to get a devilish look on his face. Class was fun, but ended without the throws. I commented to Brian that I guess I would get no throws this year. He suddenly remembered the throwing, and called volunteers to mat.
Someone’s in the center of the mat, and I run at them attempting to grab them, and they throw me. I roll to my feet, turn, and begin running at the next person only to be thrown again. This goes on with a new thrower each time. The first ones are easy. Being in good shape, I am able to keep my breathing under control. After being thrown maybe ten or twelve times, I feel my legs slowing down. They just aren’t lifting me as easily. I focus on making them lift me, not letting them slow down. My breathing begins to get a little heavier, but I keep going. Some of the throws have me going towards the radiators, so I have to shorten my roll forcing me to use my legs more to get back to vertical. Each time I am thrown, my legs labor a little harder, and move a little slower, and my breathing is getting faster. I turn the final time, and see two people in the center of the mat. I pause for a split second trying to figure which one I am supposed to go at, when Brian begins to clap and is joined by the rest of the class signaling the end.
I am not sure how my times I was thrown, but someone said about twenty-some times. Though I was slowing down, I was still capable of doing more. Perhaps next year they will push me further. Afterwards I overheard someone questioning why I would subject myself to the throwing ordeal by letting on it was my birthday. Brian told him that I had reminded him three times about my birthday. Personally I had been looking forward to the challenge of being repeatedly thrown. How much further I could have gone I don’t know. I would have reached a point where my body would be telling me to quit. My legs would have begun cramping, and fighting to get me up at all, and I would have been struggling for breath. But I think I would have managed to push on past this. The next barrier I would have encountered would have been my mind telling me that I didn’t need to do this anymore. This is where spirit truly begins to be tested. When your body is telling you to stop, and your mind is saying it is okay to quit, the only thing that will keep you going past that point is your spirit. Sorry to say I did not reach that point during the throwing event.
Your body will try to protect itself from injury; the nervous system will begin sending signals to the brain long before there is actual danger. Spirit or will-power makes it possible to override these signals if the need arises. For example, Tom Wolfe in his book The Right Stuff describes astronaut Scott Carpenter taking a test of lung capacity. The object was to see how long they could hold a column of mercury up to a designated level using the pressure of their breath. The record was ninety-one seconds. But Scott knew that when the lungs felt completely out of air and every signal in your central nervous system predicts disaster, there is still a substantial supply of oxygen in your system. So with his brain screaming for him to breathe, he forced himself to hold his breath and ignore the signals while he counted slowly to one hundred so he could beat the ninety-one second mark. He managed to hold the mercury up for 171 seconds. Astronaut John Glenn managed to keep the mercury up for 150 seconds.
These signals are there for a reason. If you don’t start breathing at some point, you will die. So the body sends ever insistent signals telling you to breathe. But what if you are under water, or in a smoke filled room? If you give in and take a breath, you may drown, or fall unconscious and die. So you might need to resist the signals to breathe long enough to escape the danger. What if you are being attacked, and are injured or fatigued. You will need to ignore the pain or the fatigue long enough to defend yourself and get out of the situation.
It is good to be able to have the ability to override these signals, but you should not ignore them completely. The signals are the early warning system of potential injury. For example, you are in the dojo, and your arm is being twisted, and your brain is sending signals to tap out, or try to get out of it. If you ignore your brain’s messages for too long, then you will be injured. This is why it is good to test your spirit in the controlled conditions of a dojo where you are less likely to be seriously injured. Occasionally injuries happen when you are testing your limits, even in the dojo. But if you purposely injure yourself (serious injury, not simple bruises or sore muscles) trying to prove your spirit, that is just stupidity.
In his book Moving Zen, C.W. Nicol describes seeing one of his sempai being pushed to his limits and beyond:
Mr. Yaguchi, a very stern and tough teacher, was sparring with my friend Sasaki. Sasaki was receiving special training to bring him up to third dan rank and to prepare him for the role of teacher.
Now, the usually lithe and vigorous Sasaki, who could defeat first dan and most of the second dan black belts with ease, was staggering like a drunkard on the dojo floor. His techniques were slow and weak. He would try to kick, but lose his balance. Unthinkable! Yaguchi sensei was berating him, attacking him at the same time with seemingly casual techniques that smacked against his body, focused shallow enough not to damage, but stinging, and leaving red marks on the skin.
"Sasaki! What is this? What kind of technique is that? Fight! Find your spirit!"
Bang! He foot-swept my senior to the floor and thrust a kick at his chest.
"Get up, Sasaki! Come on!" Sasaki got up, but was immediately swept to the ground again. He staggered back to his feet, and seemed to find the energy to attack the teacher with a roundhouse kick, ridge-hand attack combination, followed by a flurry of punches. With nonchalance, his attacks were parried and deflected. Bang! Down he went again.
"Sasaki! Your balance! It's horrible! Get up!" Sasaki once more staggered to his feet, barely having enough strength to keep his hands higher than his waist. Yaguchi sensei gave a curt bow and walked away from him, and another teacher, Mr. Yajima, took over.
"Come on, Sasaki! A little longer." From one end of the dojo, Mr. Nakayama watched, his face without expression. Despite himself, tears were coursing down my senior's cheeks, tears of exhaustion and frustration. His spirit rallied again and he lunged forward in a kicking and thrusting attack, only to be blocked again and again.
Mr. Kanazawa addressed me.
"We are breaking him down so that we can help him build his spirit. He has fought hard, with no rest, for more than one hour. Quite a time ago he thought that it was impossible for him to continue, but still he continues, and he will continue for another ten minutes. In a few days he will feel great pride in himself, and know that it is his spirit, and not his body, that makes the rules. He has fought very well." The teacher stressed this, and in his eyes he showed that he wanted me to understand that I must have respect for my sempai. I did. At the end of the session he would have fought a succession of skilled fighters for twice as long as any professional world boxing champion in a title match-and this without any rest at all.
The dojo kun from my Isshinryu karate school begins with the line “We will train our hearts and bodies for a firm unshaking spirit!” And the dojo kun from my old Shito-Ryu karate school contained the line “Strive to reach your limit.” But these lines should apply in any martial arts school or style. The three human aspects used in martial arts are mind, body, and spirit. Spirit is by far the strongest of the three. But spirit isn’t learned from books, and can’t be taught. Notice in the excerpt from Moving Zen, Kanazawa didn’t say they are building Sasaki’s spirit…they said they are helping him build his spirit. It must come from within. It must be forged like iron on an anvil being made ever stronger with training. Train hard! Look for opportunities to forge and test your spirit.
Rob Jacob is the author of: Martial Arts Biographies - An Annotated Bibliography.
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