Tree of Many Branches
…The Void can be compared to the vastness of the sky and a reaching past the clouds to a witnessing of what is on the other side. It is, in a sense, empty and yet filled with potential – a complete sense of clarity that fosters a whole and new understanding of oneself and one’s purpose. "
True power is an effortless but commanding expression of energy and muscle that arises as a natural progression from an unbridled coalescence between body and mind. It is more than an exertion of force. It is more, even, than an external show of might. And although it can easily be confused with limb-crushing, bone-breaking displays of brute strength, its articulation is really quite direct and openly uncomplicated.
Still, you don’t have to look very hard to find misguided illustrations of power. In fact, our culture is replete with them. Mistakenly a person will muddle up notions of power with those that include an assault of sheer physical force, even when nothing could be further from the truth. The expression of pure power should not only feel effortless, it should be effortless. However, I’ll be the first to admit that there is a succession to its attainment, and that nothing can be bypassed in the process of this successive evolution including the physical development of the body. Much of the physical development is covered in the normal course of traditional training methods, especially when these are exercised by master teachers who have the student’s individual growth and development in mind. Nonetheless, neither can the discourse of true power exclude the mind, for it too forms an integral part of its delivery. So when the master teacher transcends the training of the body and includes suitable guidance for the mind, the student is well on his way to understanding the nature of true power.
However, a false perception of power is entirely too widespread in the martial arts principally because most people regard them as strength based when, in actual fact, they are knowledge based. That is why they are regarded as, in a word, arts – because they are essentially a skilled application of a creative ideal. Therefore, with perseverance and dedication, this ideal can unquestionably be learned and, given the right ingredients and the proper application, the student will in due course have attained the ability to control another at any time, no matter where he may find himself or under what terrain, and under any circumstance, without exerting himself or unduly injuring the other. Conversely, if the Arts were purely strength based, only the strong and muscular would be able to penetrate the teaching halls enough to practice them with this degree of impunity, and this is clearly not the case.
Much to the contrary, as a martial arts’ student develops and gains the knowledge that leads him to a synchronization of body usage with mental focus and clarity, there evolves a convergence of body and mind that allows him to deliver whatever concentration of energy he elects in a manner that is expedient, effective, and decisively compelling. There is no doubt about it: the body delivers what the mind commands. And this delivery is undeniably a command of self and environment where the true Master is concerned, but this command does not necessitate, nor does it imply, an undue show of force or a poorly conceived exertion of muscle. There is fundamentally no need for this, nor is there room for it in the presentation of true power. True power is in the mind, even when it is the body that delivers it.
Let me put it to you in simple terms: to break limbs is one thing but to crush intention – to break a will that is bent on causing you or others damage – is entirely another. The warrior unquestionably knows the difference. Execution is essential, yes. But this should not be exclusively reliant on how big and bad you are. The small and gentle-hearted are equally adept at releasing a phenomenal amount of power, and do, when well trained. In this light, when a martial artist attacks an opponent’s body alignment, by any means, he is virtually attacking this opponent mentally where the greatest degree of damage can be done.
So on the whole, the martial arts teach the beginning student to work the body. This is well and good, and appropriate for the lessons to follow. On the heels of this, the Arts teach the student to work the mind in concert with the body. Here the vital task of attaining a coalescence of the two is enlisted and practiced until the two are able to work seamlessly together. But the work does not end there. In fact, the job is not yet done in that inasmuch as the student is training to deliver a precise and exact degree of energy at will and on demand, there must exist a differential between mind and body that requires the student to control the mind first in order to direct the body. And here the student is able to transcend mere physical measures toward the ultimate goal of mastery over oneself in a conclusive demonstration of power.
The student of the martial arts must be willing to work through its fundamental basics. He must master the correct utilization of breath, for instance. Using correct breathing relaxes the mind and, by consequence, the body and permits the student to perform at an optimum level. It is a way of, say, going back to the beginning or the origin of physical function which is found at birth and infancy, and it serves two very vital purposes: it calms the spirit, and it allows ki (or chi) to flow unencumbered throughout the body. Now, this is more than a good idea; it is a central part of developing the mental attitude and physical conditioning that is consistent with peak, yet effortless, performance. Moreover, functioning at this level of awareness and mastery of mind and body makes it possible for the student to perceive energy about him of any intensity in that it connects him with all living things.
This is no small accomplishment, and when it occurs, a multitude of insight is gained which, as a whole, people refer to as wisdom. It is a recognizing of truth of colossal proportions that is accompanied by a very real sense of liberation and a freedom from physical and mental attachment. Simply put, you could say that the student is able to see things as they truly are, which is, in itself, no small feat. The martial artist is now prepared to enter the Void.
The Void can be compared to the vastness of the sky and a reaching past the clouds to a witnessing of what is on the other side. It is, in a sense, empty and yet filled with potential – a complete sense of clarity that fosters a whole and new understanding of oneself and one’s purpose. It is a penetrating beyond that can only justly be described by one who has experienced it, and it occurs, I assure you, in the true perfection of the martial arts. It is here that victory can be attained without conflict, and it is here that the practitioner comes to know the true meaning of power.
In practice, at this state of perfection of the Arts the warrior can, with a gentle resolve, perform tasks and meet challenges that can appear to be insurmountable to others. He is centered in mind and body which permits him to face obstacles with a heightened sense of awareness that assents to innumerable options and insight. The mind is free.
The warrior is able to apply the concept of no sword – a freedom from attachment to any particular weapon, mental or physical. Hence, since his focus is not fixed on any particular one, he is able to see and use them all as the environment necessitates. The warrior expends no undue concern on distance or whether his adversary is near or far. He purely sees what is before him.
The warrior has no concern for winning or losing because he has honed a perspective that remains true to what needs to be done, absent of embellishment. There is no wasted movement, no wasted time, and no induction of pressure based on a need to win or a fear of losing. In effect, all his movements are centered around the hara – the lower tantien,* and so consequently he is able to move his entire body as a single unit. This is of critical importance when you consider that, unlike the shoulders, for instance, movement of the hara and the surrounding area of the body – the hips, as a simplification – moves the entire base of the body. The warrior, hence, has the ability to apply the entire body in the execution of his movement.
The warrior has the ability to greet his opponent and welcome him into his sphere of influence. On the surface this may seem irrelevant and of little importance, but I assure you, to be able to achieve this level of fighting skill is of overriding importance in that it is here that the warrior is able to control the movements of his opponent without using force. In reality, the warrior is now using his opponent’s own movements for his advantage. In a sense, he has captured his adversary’s spirit, and to control the spirit is to control the adversary. The warrior does not defeat him. He controls him. And this is of great relevance for it is a description of true power. In this welcome of which I speak, the warrior is now capable of changing his attacker’s intentions. Inherently, he takes the fight out of his opponent. Much is gained. Nothing is lost.
In the final analysis, every martial arts’ student will find that the achievement of mastery over ones foes is, at heart, an achievement of mastery of oneself. Almost without exception however, a student will pass through the false impressions of power which so typify our cultural ideas that bigger, stronger and harder are synonymous with powerful. And although this is a fallacy, it is truly not an evil, per sé, unless the student is allowed to remain in this mind-set. Ideally, this should form only a part of that which shapes the passage through his development as a warrior. So, once the illusion is dispelled, and it should be, the practitioner of the Arts will assuredly come to a moment of enlightenment about the nature of true power, and here, as expected, he has come full circle.
