Rousey

Students have asked me if I like Ronda Rousey, and now in the wake of her defeat there are a lot of criticisms being aired. Sad that people feel the need to reserve commentary on what appear to be negative personality traits for fear of being shouted down by those who cannot separate an athlete's skill, dedication to greatness, sacrifice, and talent from their behavior, demeanor, or persona. How long is the list of elite athletes who have been condemned for their attitudes and behaviors toward things that are totally unrelated to their jobs? "It's different," I'm told, "And you're not a fighter; you don't understand." Granted, I'm not a professional fighter, but I'm also not a police officer or sherif's deputy and yet I know that those men and women are quite capable of fighting for their lives without the necessity for hyping, confidence boosting, building a brand, or because they're highly skilled and have worked so hard - all reasons listed for the least appreciated Rousey behaviors. Others claim that as long as Rousey is "doing her job" her attitude or behavior are irrelevant. Ironically, those who make such a claim are often those who complain about how rude their server is, how nonchalant the DMV worker is, or how disrespectful a sales associate is. I don't want to conceive of a world where publicly displayed attitude and personality don't matter. 

So, do I like Ronda Rousey? I appreciate her dedication, skill, and pioneering spirit, but I don't know her beyond what has been portrayed about her through the media, so I don't know if I "like" her. I can say that I would feel honored to meet her and would hope to have a conversation steeped in the humility, grace, and thoughtfulness that I presume are part of her lesser publicized self. Maybe this defeat will allow her handlers (and I hope they are very good to her in terms of future planning) to reveal a different side of the Rousey experience. 

Farang!

Martial Arts Resonates

It's not always obvious to us that our martial arts practice is improving our quality of life. In fact we are sore, bruised, and keenly aware of the physical toll our bodies pay for being on the path. Everyone gets a quick charge from getting a technique perfect in class or from seeing a Bruce lee Clip on Facebook, but how do we know that our martial arts practice is having a deeper, more profound effect on our lives instead of being one more way we describe ourselves to others?

For me the answer has always been about resonance. I knew that I was truly on the path when other parts of my life were being activated, enhanced, or otherwise improved as a result of my martial arts practice. Things as mundane as washing dishes became opportunities for reflection on water and circle principles that are the foundations for so many of our techniques. One day I noticed that my guitar playing was similar to my sparring style. I became more sensitive to the concepts of balance, syllogistic logic, and character development in literature. My putting stroke incorporated "power finger" technique. It was as if every part of my life was becoming deeper and more intricate as a result of my martial arts training. 

As schlocky as it may sound, I have used the film Independence Day as a metaphor for this idea of resonance. (When the "mother ship" gets close to our planet all of the alien technology on Earth gets activated.) 

Are aspects of life resonating with your practice? If so, you are seeing how martial arts practice is not just something you do a few days a week or a label you use to describe your interests. It's a part of the deeper fabric of your life - a tap into the universal. If you don't see the connection yet, keep showing up and working hard. It's there waiting for you. 

Master Pinto

Last class I was asked about Master Pinto of Farang Mu Sul Spokane, Wa. I have had the honor and pleasure of working with Master Pinto at various FMS seminars and at The Gathering of Masters, an anual event held in Sacramento by the Martial Arts Collective Society.

To be clear, the term "working with" can be loosely translated as being thrown around and pummeled by Master Pinto's lightening fast strikes and held in some painful joint locks. 

So why post this video, except for the entertainment value to my students?  For one thing I want to underscore the ethical rule of "confidence in friends" as represented by the trust we must place in our partners and our willingness to allow othersto practice (and in this case, demonstrate) techniques on us.

On another note I want to model the tenet of courtesy as demonstrated between Master Pinto, me, and the panel of masters who are in attendance in this video. We may be friends and brother who share meals, hotel rooms, etc. but I cannot recall a time when we didn't bow to each other and acknowledge the blood, sweat, and dedication expended by both of us in our respective journeys. Though we are friends, we always use the appropriate terms of "Sir, Kwan Jhang Nim, Master, Kyo Sa Nim, or Instructor" because to fail to do so would dishonor ourselves. Another perfect example of this is the fact that I was close friends with Master Patrick Schleeter for years before I put on a uniform and became his student, but I wouldn't dream of calling him Pat. When I say "Sir" half the room might turn around since there's always a lot of stripes o be seen, but my sense of respect never goes unnoticed and helps to educate those junior to me in the ways of proper etiquette. 

Ok, here it is...enjoy and Farang!

How many knives are out there?

I had the opportunity to ask two Farang Hapkido / Farang Mu Sul training partners, both law enforcement officers, how many contacts they make with people armed with knives. One answered that nearly 100 percent of men and about 30 percent of the women he comes into contact with are carrying a knife. The other said that roughly 70-80 percent have "some sort of stabbing/cutting instrument." I don't claim to be a world class knife fighter, but I train like my life depends on it, and I am thankful to have a grand master (Kuk Sa Nim Michael De Alba) who is considered by people all over the world to be one of the best knife guys around. The sheer number of people carrying knives also underscores a few related ideas: 1) Cardio and conditioning are very important. You can't stab, slash, or cut what you can't catch. 2) Maintain a healthy respect for what even the most unassuming person is capable of doing. Old, young, strong, frail, lucid, or out of it: I am respectful to those around me until they do something that causes me to leave. That's leave, not confront, not challenge, not throw down. As a great man once said to me, "Self defense is not fighting; self defense is getting away and surviving." 3) Reality is nothing like a drill unless the drill evolves into something realistic. Though it looks static, the drill/technique below was dynamic, flowing, and culminated in realistic scenarios in addition to sharpening skills of knife picking and disarming an opponen. In other words, nothing takes place in a vacuum.

Three things are certain: I never want to get into a knife fight, I will train every day for that possibility, and I will avoid the potential whenever possible. 

Farang!

Dedicating My Practice

Years ago I read an article written by a yoga practitioner encouraging others to dedicate their practice to an individual or an idea every time they unrolled their mats. I was so taken by this message that I began to dedicate each class to different people or ideas.
The first night was especially important to me. My Dad had been dealing with some physical difficulties, and before I stepped out of the locker room and onto the mat to bow in, I made a quick mental note that "tonight was for Dad." Throughout that class during every physical challenge and mental hurdle, I kept my Dad in mind and pushed through. Every successful joint-lock or throw was a celebration of Dad. Every shot landed was for him. Every shot I took, I took to shield him. By the end of class, the anxiety I was feeling about him was gone. It had been supplanted by a pure and positive energy. I don't claim to know how it worked, but it did, and over the years I regularly dedicated my classes to various family members, friends, coworkers, social movements, and so on.
When I moved and was training on my own, I was out of my element and the break in routine lead to a loss of this practice until tonight. At the beginning of class tonight I made sure to dedicate the class to my training partner, Farang brother, and dear friend. His mom passed away about ten days ago, and tonight, every kick, punch, joint-lock, roll, fall, muscle cramp, and drop of sweat was for him.
If you're reading this, you know who you are my brother. Everyone at Ferrito Martial Arts has your back.

Martial Arts and Basketball

I would love to see athletes from roller derby to basketball to soccer to hockey to ultimate frisbee come down and get some training in at Ferrito Martial Arts.

http://theawesomester.com/how-martial-arts-can-help-you-become-a-better-basketball-player/

Long Distance Learning

I admit to cringing over the number of academic long distance learning courses offered to young students in recent years. I know that technology is removing lots of economic, geographic, and even cultural barriers for students, but the fact remains that a lot of learning is short changed by the long distance effect. Without a teacher to connect to, without a 360 degree view of things, and without (in the case of martial arts training) physical guidance from a practiced hand, it takes hours and hours of manipulating video for me to gain what others might have with the benefit of physically attending class and having the guidance of Master Schleeter or Grand Master Michael De Alba to learn just this part of Farang Dan Jang Hyung (Farang Cane Form). As always, I can't wait to get to train with them again. Farang! 

Failure to Learn

Sounds negative, right? Like "My failure to learn resulted in multiple parking tickets," or something.

I'm no sure that I have ever cared about being successful more than in the martial arts. We always want to succeed and through successes honor our teachers. I'm the kind of guy that puts lots of pressure on myself when thinking about all of the effort my teachers have put into me. That said, it would be easy to assume that failure in the martial art of Farang Hapkido would be crushing, but those who make that assumption are wrong and so was I in the beginning.

I have played music in front of hundreds. I wrestled in front of a thousand spectators. For 19 years I have stood at the front of a high school classroom multiple times a day. I've even been the officiant at three weddings. I am renown as the worst speller I know, which is a tough row to hoe as an English teacher. But nothing was more frightening than attempting my first "head high" round house kick, mostly because of the result. Falling flat on my side/back, I did more damage to my pride than I ever did to my "opponent" in the mirror.

I had been attending classes for under a week, so I was still very much the new guy, and as such I had some extra helpful eyes on me. Maybe it was athletic related amnesia, but I thought I was pretty coordinated. After all, I had wrestled for just over six years, played youth and intramural sports, coached high school athletes, and ran...occasionally.  Although there were 20-something other students in that class, not one laughed, giggled, or even cracked a smile when I went down hard. A couple glanced over to make sure they wouldn't step on me, and I got a "You good?" from a third. My face was beet red from embarrassment, but I think most students took it as a sign of fatigue since we were all sweating through the warm up that class. My failure seemed so colossal compared to hitting a clinking wrong note during a show or misspeaking during a lesson in a literature class. Likely because this was such a pure endeavor in comparison.

Since that day, I have failed more times than I have succeeded in accomplishing a new technique or owning series of movements, but not once has an instructor asked me why I wasn't being succeeding yet. Over the years my teachers and training partners have offered the kind of encouragement that can come only from those who are still learning, and those who are still learning are still making attempts and failing. At work, in relationships, and in every other part of our lives as martial artists, we should be failing as a result of being learners. Those who expect others to never fail them may never have been truly tested or have forgotten what it is to be hungry for new knowledge and new experiences and to fail in the pursuit of a skill or technique. If you fail on the path of learning, you have taken one more step toward attaining the goal.

Perseverance. Indomitable spirit.

These aren't just words to us. When my students miss classes I'm the first to remind them of the plethora of techniques they can practice at home or on the road. Hotel rooms, classrooms, hallways, living rooms, backyards, patios, in he bar by the light of the jukebox...no matter to us. We train. At least something happens to further our martial training every day.

Today both of my students missed class and for good reason, so I got busy with my teacher's most recent training even if it was on the iPad.

This is how I train with my teacher these days.

The point is we are unbeatable (indomitable spirit) when we are dedicated and will overcome the obstacles in front of us with honor (persevearance) if we train every day. I think the Korean phrase Yubimuhwan sums it up. Translation: when one is prepared, there is no need to fear the unexpected. 

Farang!

Hapkido As A Reflection of Geography

“So what martial art do you do?”

“Farang Hapkido.”

“Wait, what is it again?”

“I practice Farang Hapkido.”

“You mean aikido?”

“No, I mean hapkido” And then I do the phonetic breakdown syllable for syllable, “As in ‘hop’ ‘kee’ ‘doe’”
“Like tae kwon do?”

“Same country of origin, but not exactly.”

“Is it karate or what?”

This used to be the trajectory of most conversations about hapkido when I began studying. When someone figures out that I am not an MMA fighter, most people who ask me what martial art I “do” automatically assimilate hapkido into a martial art they have heard of or even practiced for a brief period. Some start making Bruce Lee sounds and punishing multiple opponents with air-nunchaku. Others have driven by countless tae kwon do and karate schools, and so hapkido must belong to one of those martial families. Still others, because hapkido does share two out of three syllables with aikido, have visions of Steven Seagal breaking four bad guys and pursuing four more with an odd looking running motion.

I have learned to answer the question “what martial art do you do?” by changing the paradigm from describing and comparing hapkido to other martial arts that are more popular in the United States to a discussion of geography. These days the conversation starts like this:

“What martial art do you do?”

“I practice hapkido, which is a Korean martial art. So you’ve seen maps showing China, the Korean peninsula, and Japan, right?”

I am now the Mr. Hand to their Spicoli.

They weren’t expecting me to change the paradigm. They are as stunned as Spicoli is when Mr. Hand shows up at Jeff’s home to collect on “his time.” Seriously though, I continue with every effort to presume that they are an expert in Asian geography, but I still use my hand for Mainland China with my thumb as the Korean peninsula, and my other index finger to represent Japan.

“You know how the Korean peninsula juts out from China, and then across the Sea of Japan from there you have the country of Japan? Think of hapkido, from Korea, as being caught between China and Japan. China is a massive country, right? And so there’s tons of room to retreat and circle as well as to flank and outmaneuver your opponent in a military campaign lasting months or even years. However, in Japan, the fighting has to be more linear. There’s just no room for broad, circling maneuvers – you’ll wind up in the water!”

At this point I’m as enthusiastic about this concept as I was the first time my teacher told me to look at a map of the area with fighting styles in mind. As a result, my listener is usually energized by my excitement.

“So you have China, whose geography influences Chinese martial arts to be flowing, circular, and absorbent or soft and Japan, whose geography demands structured, hard, and linear fighting arts. So what about Korea? Well, the Korean peninsula is geographically and philosophically in the middle – half on the mainland and half in the water – and this is how to understand hapkido people and what we do. Some hapkido techniques intercept the energy of our opponents – very linear like the country of Japan, and other hapkido techniques redirect that energy – very circular like the Chinese mainland. So hapkido as a martial art is a combination of soft and hard, circular and linear, Chinese and Japanese.”

Thirty seconds of talk has supplanted the normal human drive to assimilate the unknown into the known and has replaced it with a concept that gracefully describes what hapkido is. If someone really wants to know what’s involved in hapkido techniques, and didn’t ask just to be polite, I could talk about joint locks, kicks, punches, throws, weapons, grappling, sparring, offense, defense, etc. and link all of them to geography. If they were simply looking to show an interest in what I do, they have potentially come away with a new lens through which any martial art can be viewed.

Either way, I am much happier now when I hear that same old question, “So what martial art do you do?”