Seven Principles of Scientific Presentation (and Life in General)

1.     When in hole, stop digging.

Corollary i.      Learn to recognize a hole from the inside as well as out.

2.     Never laugh at your own jokes – they’re probably not that funny.

Corollary i.      Do not laugh if even you don’t think you’ve been funny.

3.     Say it like you mean it but not like your life depends on it.

Corollary i.      Don’t swallow your own bullshit.

Corollary ii.     You must learn to recognize bullshit.

4.     The audience is not your friend.

Corollary i.      Leave yourself an out and cover your ass.

5.     Keep it simple – because, everyone would probably rather be some place else.

6.     Remember, it’s all just theatre.

Corollary i.      Assume a GAFO (giving a flying one) imbalance: Make the audience care.

7.     It never hurts to actually know what you are talking about.

Right about now, Stephen Covey is quaking in his boots.

Simple ≠ Easy

Keep it simple, one is often told. Sound advice, even sounds like it ought to be easy to practice. But, what is simplicity? Is it the absence of complexity? Or is it economy of effort? I find my practice of gung fu and my recent efforts to learn to swim driving me to reexamine my understanding of the nature of simplicity. I recently watched an interview with origami grandmaster, Sensei Yoshizawa Akira where he talked about simplicity. Paraphrasing his words, there is a simplicity to the efforts of the novice, but it is dictated by his/her limited knowledge/skill. The efforts of a more skilled practitioner are characterized by complexity and variety of technique. But as one progresses further in one's practice of the art one develops fluency in the technique and the ability to truly and honestly express oneself. And, in so doing, one returns to simplicity. Only this simplicity arises out of skill and understanding, rather than being imposed by the inadequacy of either. He could have been talking about gung fu or cooking or any practice for that matter. Well, that's what gung fu is, the dedication of one's time and efforts to the pursuit of ideals in one's practice, whatever that practice might be. And, simplicity is an ideal well worth pursuing.

Some thoughts from Aikido practice

During Aikido practice the other night, Sensei spoke of separating the opponent’s mind and body. As I reflected upon this concept, my mind returned to the gung fu principle of wu wei. I realized that separating the opponent’s mind and body can be a practical realization of wu wei as applied to combat. This is how I understand this idea:

Fundamentally, one must act naturally or spontaneously. With respect to combat, this means that one’s actions are simply a natural response to the opponent’s actions. When an opponent chooses to act, he skews the distribution of his attention, strength and balance in the direction of his intent. Thus, unilateral action compromises the opponent’s grasp over the situation – this is not to be misunderstood to mean that the control has by default passed to the other party, i.e. oneself. Rather the opponent has simply allowed one an opportunity to alter the situation. It is this capacity that one acts – simply doing what the situation necessitates rather than trying to force the situation to fit the mold created by one’s sense of self. In practical terms, one can achieve this by taking advantage of the skew in the opponent’s attention, strength and balance.

Movement relative to the opponent can realign one away from the opponent’s strength and balance. Thinking about how such movement can be achieved leads me to the concept of fluidity and back to the notion of wu wei. The goal of one’s movement must be to complement and complete the opponent’s structure and force. One’s actions must be a spontaneous response to the situation created by the opponent’s intent, or in other words one must be like a fluid and take the shape that is dictated by the vessel that is the opponent’s rigid intent.

Once in appropriate position, one can neutralize the opponent’s intent by applying a force to complementary that generated by the opponent thereby separating his strength from his balance rather than by simply trying to overwhelm it.

Aikido aims to achieve this goal in its most philosophically and practically pure form, disrupting the opponent’s balance and thereby breaking his control over his own strength. This is achieved by connecting with the opponent either physically (joint locking etc) or mentally (for instance, by inducing a sense of impending physical contact). Disruption of balance leads to loss of positional and kinesthetic awareness, allowing one an opportunity to apply a small force to complement the opponent’s force and direct the opponent’s center of mass in a safe direction.

Hung Gar offers the possibility of achieving a similar outcome through striking with the intent of disrupting balance, disrupting the mind through pain or by directly disrupting strength by causing damage to the body.

While some of these approaches may lack somewhat in elegance and refinement compared to others, they also offer viable alternatives which may be necessitated given the limitations of one’s skill. Also, with the same limitations of skill in mind, I do think that a fundamental intent is still necessary to the extent of deciding the level of violence necessary – in other words, the response must be proportional to the threat.

Regardless of the specific approach one takes, it is important to extend one’s thinking beyond unilateral action, beyond victory and defeat and to endeavor simply to respond to a situation and prevail through it.