The Simple and the Ornate
This morning I was back on the Katana and Sai's, followed by a session of iron palm.
A few observations:
My right hand is doing great, I can strike with great force and feel practically nothing. The left, however, has a very nasty bruise on the back of the hand. That is where I have most of my problems. Palm and side of the hand are pretty tough, I was breaking cinderblocks when I was fifteen using a chop strike, so no suprises there. My injuries are almost all on the back of the hand and the knuckles. What suprises me is the difference. I am right handed, but for the life of me cannot imagine why almost all of my issues have been with my left. Well, lets give it three months and see what happens.
I play with three different sword traditions: Katana (Japanese) Jian ( Chinese) and Rapier/Dagger ( European). I also have added in Sai work on the Japanese side. I love rapier work, it is very clean and quick, and of the three it is the easiest one to spar. My friend ( we will call him Lionheart) and I both have full protective gear and practice swords and can pretty much go full on and not get hurt seriously ( though we do bruise now and then). However, it does not lend itself well to the kind of meditative/ martial practice that you get with Asian arts.
Of the other two, I find that Japanese swordsmanship suits me much better. It is simpler, cleaner and deadlier, at least to my taste. I respect Jian practioners, and it can be a deadly weapon in the hands of an adept, but somehow the ornate poses, cuts and moves are too dance like for me to be properly martial. I do both and get great benefit, but if I had to carry a blade into a real combat, it would be the katana. No question, it feels right.
This probably says more about me than about the relative merits of the arts.
And that is the most important observation, for in the end it is about learning about you, not pretending expertise. Wayfinding requires humility and a healthy respect for your own error factor. To know is to really know nothing, because so often we are wrong, and even when we are right, we are often only right for that moment. Close the mind and as the world moves on you will become wrong.
Not knowing is the space where we learn.
Shadowdog, welcome! Happy to have you along.
A few observations:
My right hand is doing great, I can strike with great force and feel practically nothing. The left, however, has a very nasty bruise on the back of the hand. That is where I have most of my problems. Palm and side of the hand are pretty tough, I was breaking cinderblocks when I was fifteen using a chop strike, so no suprises there. My injuries are almost all on the back of the hand and the knuckles. What suprises me is the difference. I am right handed, but for the life of me cannot imagine why almost all of my issues have been with my left. Well, lets give it three months and see what happens.
I play with three different sword traditions: Katana (Japanese) Jian ( Chinese) and Rapier/Dagger ( European). I also have added in Sai work on the Japanese side. I love rapier work, it is very clean and quick, and of the three it is the easiest one to spar. My friend ( we will call him Lionheart) and I both have full protective gear and practice swords and can pretty much go full on and not get hurt seriously ( though we do bruise now and then). However, it does not lend itself well to the kind of meditative/ martial practice that you get with Asian arts.
Of the other two, I find that Japanese swordsmanship suits me much better. It is simpler, cleaner and deadlier, at least to my taste. I respect Jian practioners, and it can be a deadly weapon in the hands of an adept, but somehow the ornate poses, cuts and moves are too dance like for me to be properly martial. I do both and get great benefit, but if I had to carry a blade into a real combat, it would be the katana. No question, it feels right.
This probably says more about me than about the relative merits of the arts.
And that is the most important observation, for in the end it is about learning about you, not pretending expertise. Wayfinding requires humility and a healthy respect for your own error factor. To know is to really know nothing, because so often we are wrong, and even when we are right, we are often only right for that moment. Close the mind and as the world moves on you will become wrong.
Not knowing is the space where we learn.
Shadowdog, welcome! Happy to have you along.
posted by Maurice_Basilius at 7:09 PM
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