Martial Tuesday: One board at a time

Last week I talked about breaking and the commitment that goes into it, and the comparison between that and dealing with sin and temptation, and before I had even published the post I had more thoughts on the issue.

In my karate training it was a fairly short step from breaking a board to breaking a stack of boards, and then to doing several breaks in succession.

Breaking a stack of boards is basically the same thing as breaking a single board, except that it requires greater commitment. Instead of breaking through a barrier that is about an inch thick, you are breaking through a barrier that is 6 inches to a foot thick. Depending on how the stack is arrangedit may be exponentially harder to break or just geometrically harder to break, but the general idea is the same.

But a series of breaks is a different creature. A series of breaks is confusing because the idea is to break the whole series in rapid succession, so you have to plan the whole series out and keep them in mind. But you can't break all of the boards at the same time, and if your mind tries to, you will break none of the boards in rapid succession. You have to break it down and take it one break at a time.

Our sensei puts it like this: "It isn't five breaks. It is one break, five times."

It sounds very Zen, which is sort of on purpose. I mean, if you're going to be a karate instructor, part of the fun is getting to say Zen-ish with a fake Chinese accent. But like so many things, there is truth to it. If you let your mind think about everything you have to do in the next 10 seconds, you will not be able to commit it to the first board you break, and as I noted before that creates a destructive cycle and gives your mind yet another thing to think about while you are not-breaking the second board, and so on.

Instead, it helps to step back for a minute, and consider everything that is supposed to happen. Take in the flow of the break (in this case, 'break' referring to all of the individual breaks as a whole), and the flow of your body as you execute it. And then, let it go. To quote one of our instructors, "Mokuso, let it go." Once you know what needs to be done, forget about everything except what is in front of you now. And then explode through the break.

Once you have destroyed the first board, forget about it. It can't help you now, and you can't help it. Remember the second board and destroy it. Then forget about the second board, and repeat until there is nothing but splinters left.

To bring this post back around to what will eventually become its tired analogy, temptations won't always be weak things. Some great saint said that no one comes to understand the power of temptation who always gives in right away. That person cannot grasp the temptations that will come in time. They have not yet broken their first board, and so they cannot grasp breaking a stack of boards. As time goes by, our Sensei allows us opportunities to grow stronger by giving us bigger breaks.

And sometimes things will start to pile up. We'll find ourselves struggling with 5 different things at once, and it begins to get overwhelming. We need to stop and take a look at what is ahead of us, and then we need to forget about it and focus on one thing at a time. As Jesus said, don't worry about tomorrow. Today has enough things to worry about. He wasn't saying we shouldn't be prepared for the future to the degree that we can. But when trouble seems to be looming, prepare for it and then let it go. Sufficient to each break is the difficulty thereof.

Martial Tuesday: Break through

Watching a martial artist break a board can range anywhere from the mundane to an expression of existential bliss. It all depends on who the person is, what his experience level is, how difficult the break is, and a number of other factors that will never be exactly the same, even if they appear so.

The experienced martial artist will probably approach the break with a reasonable amount of nonchalance, looking calm and relaxed, but focused at the same time. The fresh white belt will approach the break with some trepidation and distraction, worrying about failing and/or hurting himself.

The one will have technique and experience on his side: he knows how to hit the board, where to hit the board, what to do with each part of his body to make himself into the most efficient toothpick producer possible. The other will have technique and experience working against him: he has a only vague idea of where and how to hit the board, and a very clear idea that boards tend to hit back. The blackbelt will be aware that a board can hit back, but an unbroken board hits back much harder than a broken board.

The blackbelt might take a few seconds, or even up to a few minutes to consider the break, and then will hit it hard, driving his hand, foot, or whatever through the boards or bricks, leaving only a trail of destruction.

The whitebelt will ponder the break for a few seconds, but usually won't know enough to know what to ponder, and so will step up and - after a few practice swings - take a swing at the board. Sometimes it will break. Sometimes it won't. In most cases, the whitebelt who breaks will be more surprised than the whitebelt who doesn't.

I have never had a student who has not been able to break. I have had students who have failed to break a board, but that's not the same thing. Every student I've had has had the physical ability to break through a 10-inch white pine board. But I have seen many students - both mine and others' - who have not been able to let themselves break, and they all have the same problem: Commitment.

Now, I'm not trying to talk psycho-babble-bad-relationship-advice here. I'm not talking about 'fear of commitment' like you hear about in bad chick-flicks. I'm talking about a lack of commitment, the (usually vain) hope that the board will just break itself if you touch it, and you won't have to do any of the work. Very occasionally, it does, and that's when we realize that what we thought was a board was really more like two scraps of wood with a splinter connecting them. In most cases, breaking a board takes a lot more mental power than physical.

I have come to the conclusion that boards are like temptations. As we look at them, we know how much it hurts to hit one running and bounce off, to 'try' to break out of sin, only to get thrown back in. In many cases we don't know quite where to hit it to break through, how to flee temptation, how to break the pattern. We don't realize that if we just hit that brick with a little force and a lot of commitment, the crystaline structure will shatter, and we'll come through with a surprised look on our faces and very few scars to show for it.

And here's another happy thought: Any time you hit that first board, it hurts no matter what. Even if you break it, your hand goes numb for a few seconds, then it tingles, then it feels bruised, and then it goes away. And the next time you hit that board, it breaks more easily, and it doesn't hurt as much. And then, before you know it, you've moved from a 4-inch board to an 8-inch board, to a 12-inch board. Your body hardens itself each time you hit something with it, and your soul is the same way. Each time you break through a moment of weakness, your spiritual bones get stronger, and what used to be a soft, flabby hand becomes a hardened, muscled weapon of mass destruction. It's a redemptive cycle.

But there's a downside to it too: Every time you hit a board that doesn't break, it makes it harder to break the next one. Your hand doesn't get any weaker, and your bones don't become brittle, but your mind takes damage, what we would call in roleplaying 'Composure Stress': you become less certain of your ability to complete the break, and you start to lose your commitment, and so you hit the next board (or the same one) with less power. It becomes a destructive cycle, and usually it takes help getting your momentum back.

The good news is that in martial arts you should be able to trust your sensei not to put something in front of you that you can't break, and if he does you can always walk away.

The bad news is that in real life you can't always walk away from temptation, in fact usually walking away is giving in.

The good news is that we have a Sensei - One who came before us - who promised that He will never give us something we're not able to break.

So step up and give it a swing.