There
are lots of things about practice I don’t like. I don’t like cleaning
up afterward. I don’t like all the little nit picky preparations. I
don’t like getting up earlier than would be otherwise necessary. I used
to hate practicing the boring old fundamentals. I still hate
practicing the parts that I’m not good at. Those are the parts that I
need to be practicing though.
As
with everything, we like to do the parts that we are good at, and we
tend to avoid the parts that we aren’t so proficient at. I do train in
budo in large part because I enjoy it, I like how it makes me feel, and
because I like what it teaches me. I don’t always enjoy the lessons
though. I hate discovering that I’m really bad as some aspect of
practice. I hate learning that my ego is bigger, more involved in what
I’m doing, and has more influence on me (I love to tell myself that I’m
beyond that, but practice keeps teaching me a different lesson).
It’s
easy when we start. We’re lousy at everything, so all aspects of
training are tough. As we progress though, we don’t progress at all
things at equal speeds. Of the various style of budo that I practice,
I’ve been doing Kodokan Judo the longest. I’ve gotten reasonably good
at certain aspects of it, such as groundwork, especially chokes and arm
bars, while my standing techniques have not improved nearly as fast.
This creates situations that my ego is all too happy to exploit, but
when I let that happen, I don’t learn anything.
My
groundwork is much better than my standing techniques, so in Judo
randori (grappling sparring), I can “win” much more often and more
quickly by taking things to the ground. Unfortunately, if I do this, I’m
not practicing and improving my standing skills, and those need the
most work. This is one of the traps of ego. It’s more fun to do stuff
we’re already good at. I’ve been doing judo for a while now, so it
takes a little bit of courage for me to say, “Hey, there’s this whole
section of judo that I really need to work on. Will you help me?”
I’m used to being the sensei, the guy in front with all the answers,
and climbing down off that pedestal can take some work.
I learn a lot more when I work on the parts that I’m not good at though. Lately, my personal focus at Judo has been Uki Otoshi.
It’s probably the most difficult and least used throw in the entire
Kodokan Judo curriculum. It requires perfect balance taking, timing and
execution. That might make it the best throw to practice. I also
noticed that Kano Shihan and the other greats who created the Nage No
Kata put right there are the front of the kata, so you can’t miss it.
My theory is that I will learn much more from studying something that
is extremely difficult, than I will from practicing the more popular,
and frankly, easier throws.
To
do uki otoshi, you have to do everything correctly, so when I practice
it, I become more aware of my partner’s balance and of the timing and
space connecting us. I’m forcing myself to extend my abilities and my
understanding and my awareness. And as these skills expand with
practice at something I’m still really bad at, I find that my awareness
and understanding of balance taking, spacing and timing are better when
I’m doing other things where I’m not as inept as when I’m doing uki
otoshi. That’s improving my Judo as whole.
This
practice is just about anything but fun though. I can’t begin to count
the ways of not doing uki otoshi that I have discovered so far. Every
one of these inept variations teaches me something. I’m slowly dialing
in on my target, a smooth, clean uki otoshi.
As
I’m writing this, I had a small epiphany. This is the throw my teach
Hikkoshiso Sensei used to toss me around with the first few years I was
in Japan. He would wave his arms a little and I would go flying. I’ve
always felt that I started to get good at a Judo when he couldn’t throw
me with that technique anymore (it didn’t stop him from throwing me
around like a rag doll, it just meant that he wasn’t doing it with uki
otoshi). I still can’t execute a decent uki otoshi, but I can see
already I’ve learned something, because suddenly I understand what he
was throwing me with all those years ago. Of course, if I had focused
on the tough stuff sooner, I would have understood this that much
sooner..
I’m
never going to be a great judoka, I know that. But if I only ever do
the parts I’m already proficient at, I’ll never get any better than I am
now. If I just want to have some fun at practice a couple times a week
at practice, I guess that’s ok. Judo offers so much more than just a
some fun exercise, that if I don’t work at learning something every
practice I feel I’m wasting a great opportunity for learning,
improvement and growth.
Practicing
the hard stuff is frustrating, tiring, annoying and sometimes
disappointing because I don’t achieve the results I think I should. It
is also far more gratifying over time. Doing what I’m good at is a
reliable bit of fun, but that feeling doesn’t last. Practicing hard
things isn’t fun, but it is so much more satisfying every time I figure
out something new or discover that I can do something I couldn’t do at
the last practice.
It
really doesn’t matter what art you are studying, it’s always easier and
more fun to do the bits that you are best at. If you can set your ego
aside though, and give up on the fun of being good at something for a
while, you’ll learn far more, and make more progress by working at the
bits you don’t understand yet. Unfortunately, we rarely make huge
improvements by repeating things we already know how to do. The leaps
in understanding and skill come when we work on something we can’t do
yet.
Here's a little twist -
ReplyDeleteWhen we practice only what (we think) we know, we can get complacent, of course. We feel comfortable with what is already familiar (i.e., not wanting to try new things, or to improve our practice by working on what's difficult) but we can also get lazy about the stuff we already do know. Fortunately, in partner practices (jodo, iai kumidachi, kenjutsu and no doubt judo) a new partner will quickly bring our complacency to an end. But in solo kata it is much more difficult to get out of a practice rut.
I have found that I have to be constantly digging for deeper meaning and better fundamentals all the time. Since I have a modicum of talent, it is mostly this type of perseverance that has led to improvement. I have done this by using the old acting technique game wherein mentally, one tries to approach a learned experience as though it is being done for the first time. If you look at experiences as a cycle, rather than as a series of repetitions, you find that everything really is being done for the first (and only) time.
Works for me, anyway.