In our last post we wrote about life and the reality of sudden death. This week an elderly relative was undergoing a second, difficult surgery. With hospitals, operations, health and healing, it all became clear: we were aware of that fine line between life and death. It has also been a week of loss with the passing of Ed MacMahon, Farah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. While McMahon and Fawcett were both ill, Michael Jackson’s death at 50 was perhaps the most striking.
Michael Jackson was a global icon. Child star. Musician, composer, dancer, performer, humanitarian. An astonishing talent. We never saw or heard anything like it. In his evolution as an artist, his incredible performance at Motown’s 25th anniversary, his ability to break through color barriers with his music, the unprecedented crossover appeal, and the way he revolutionized the way we “watched” music, he created a paradigm shift. His disciplined life force found a unique expression.
Balance
“Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony.” ~ Thomas Merton
A master at his craft, Jackson was the consummate performer, perfectionist, always professional, creative, and in control. Yet, he could not bring those qualities into his personal life. Our last post addressed balance – the innate or learned ability to live a steadied existence. This is the integration of three things: body, mind & spirit. In TanDao martial arts philosophy, we use the holisitic model of the warrior, scholar, monk. The fourth point is mastery: the unified, centered being. Mastery allows for the constant regaining of balance in every area of life.
When Wounds Do Not Heal
From a painful childhood, to a troubled adulthood, Michael Jackson lived out of balance. The fourth point, true mastery and control of his life, was out of his reach. Despite the fame and adoration, his emotional wounds went unattended. It was compounded by the fate of being in a powerful position and surrounded by people who do not, or cannot, provide a rudder. On staff physicians who enable prescription addictions, sycophants and even loyal friends who understand, but are unable do much more than that. In some manner everyone accommodates, or looks the other way. It not only weakens, but counters the strength of survival.
The image of the special individual and his entourage is familiar. It is the celebrity, the athlete; maybe even your boss, or your teacher. No one dares to question. Or challenge. But faithful agreement and medicine isn’t what’s needed – the prescribed cure is a dose of reality. Otherwise it is a dangerous and slippery slope, with tragic results.
The path of the martial way teaches survival, mental and physical health, the importance of community, and the quest for full spectrum knowledge – which ultimately gives way to wisdom. It is through this integration that we find clarity, self-reliance and a check and balance system. This fosters the wholeness and richness of spirit, maturity, mastery. This is longevity.
Michael Jackson built the Neverland Ranch, named after Peter Pan’s home. It was a child’s paradise. And an insulating place of isolation. He was regarded as Peter Pan - the little boy who would never grow up. He did grow up, but he is the man who would never grow old. In the beauty of his legacy, there is also great sadness. When asked what he would to sing in remembrance of Michael Jackson, Smokey Robinson said he would choose a cover of “Never Can Say Goodbye” because he never can say good bye to Michael Jackson. None of us can.
The drama of Continental Airline’s pilot, Craig Lenell, dying suddenly of natural causes, in flight between Brussels and Newark, caught our attention. Our daily distractions often allow us to ignore a truth until something frightening happens and forces us to face reality. We get the message: death comes unexpectedly.
The Martial Way
As Evolving Martial Artists our passion for delving deeply to the roots of the martial way ultimately leads to the fundamental mystery of life and death. Think about it: in its original form, martial arts is one of the only pursuits, unlike sports, music, art and literature, that focuses attention and preparation on every possible life and death situation. These are the basics.
TanDao Philosophy
In Tandao, the basics comprise only part of the journey. There is a greater awareness. In our holistic model, triHarmony, the essence of our consciousness is represented as an equilateral triangle with a circle in the center. In geometry, it is with three sides that an enclosure is formed and structure begins. For all things, it is the measure of possibilities. At each of the 3 intersecting points there is: the warrior (body), the scholar (mind) and the monk (compassion/emotion). The striving for a balanced integration of the warrior/scholar/monk (body/mind/heart) is essential. The true power lies in the circle at the center. This represents the fourth point – the unifying center of being. This the master.
Martial Arts Training
In the martial arts, training can create a keen awareness of our human mortality. If we look at this holistically, this awareness is not just about the warrior conquering fear to act decisively and effectively during a deadly encounter. The scholar understands the mechanism of fear in the role of the detached observer. The presence of the monk in the martial way consciously develops an awareness and sensitivity to the interconnection of life itself.
Practicing meditation and the moving meditation of Tai Ji, Aikido and our TanDao forms, moving can help us to be fully present in the here and now of our daily lives. The seemingly mundane activities of doing dishes, driving to work, cooking dinner or interacting with others then become little miracles. With clarity and sensitivity we smell the roses we normally ignore.
For the Evolving Martial Artist, the fourth point is the ideal of the master. It is an integrated individual who is consciously balancing the warrior, scholar and monk. In doing so, we can elevate our consciousness of the hidden mystery inherent in every instant. So, when that inevitable moment does come, no matter how unexpectedly, we would have lived our lives fully. Feel your life now, take 3 breaths.
Two days ago, a hateful old man consumed by a deluded worldview that denies humanity and historical reality, entered a public institution armed with a rifle. Inside, with 2,000 visitors, including school children, he started shooting. Vigilant guards stopped the crazed gunman in a shoot out. Security officer, Stephen T. Johns, trained to serve and protect, died heroically performing his duty to defend others.
Sometimes the Good Guys Die
One can only imagine the lives that were saved at the Museum. It came with great sacrifice: sometimes the good guys die. The brutal reality of violence shakes us. Most martial art practitioners are immersed in the health, philosophic, aesthetic and athletic aspects of the martial way. This tragedy provides us with a sober bottom line view of our martial training.
The Safety of the Dojo
In the safety of the dojo, kwoon, dojang, or gym, we practice kicks, punches, throws and joint locks feed, in part, our heroic fantasies. We must distinguish between stylistic self-defense and real life violence. They are often two different worlds. If our primary intention is realistic self defense, then our training must understand the ugly elements that are present on the street or the battlefield: terror, panic, violence, injury and tragedy.
The Evolving Martial Artist
The Evolving Martial Artist, focuses on higher martial ideals of self development, knowing that our ritual combat training for self defense, is a dress rehearsal for a violent encounter which we may or may not ever realize - hopefully never.
The Holocaust Museum in Washington DC opened its doors again, on this day, the birthday of Anne Frank. Had she not died in the Holocaust, she would be 80 years old today. One week ago today, Elie Wiesel and US President Obama visited Buchenwald.
More than 11 million people were killed in the Holocaust. Our best wishes to the family and friends of Stephen T. Johns and his family. Their loss is ours too.
It’s ironic. On the same day that the celluloid Shaolin master, David Carradine, died, an authentic kung fu master and Hong Kong film legend, Shek Kin, passed away. Although martial artists and film goers may know him as Han, Bruce Lee’s evil nemesis in Enter the Dragon, Shek Kin was a pioneer of early kung fu films. Please do not take this lightly: he was truly one of the first martial arts action stars. No doubt, as a child living in Hong Kong, Bruce Lee was thrilled and inspired by Shek Kin’s kicks and punches in the original black and white “chop socky ” films. Shek Kin achieved fame for playing the arch villain in over 80 films based on the Cantonese martial hero Wong Fei Hong.
As Far East editor for Inside Kung fu magazine back in the seventies, I interviewed Shek Kin in 1975 at his apartment in Hong Kong, after the international success of Enter the Dragon. As a point of interest, Shek Kin was in his late 50’s when he fought Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon. He was a true master; modest, unassuming and gracious. Here is an excerpt from the end of his interview, in his own words:
An old Shaolin boxing proverb states: “Boxing has no set methods and hitting has no set rules….” Each…nation’s martial art uses basic weapons differently. Power is delivered differently, the patterns of offensive and defensive movements differ and the tactics and strategy differ.…
We should not think in terms of style; we should think in terms of martial arts in general….We should study the best aspects of other systems and better our Kung fu. With this constant exchange of new ideas and the changes that should result from the influences, more and more new styles will emerge as time goes on. Although there will be many new systems, the basics will always be the same…
With the surging popularity of mixed martial arts, Shek Kin’s words sound like those of a contemporary martial artist. Yet they were spoken thirty four years ago by this Grandmaster of Northern Shaolin. As they say, the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Nevertheless, Shek Kin was an old fashion traditionalist insisting that the primary goal of kung fu practice is for health and longevity. Self-defense is secondary. Unlike Lee and Carradine, Shek Kin lived a long life. He was 96.
Something for an Evolving Martial Artist to consider. What do you think?
In the documentary Don’t Be Denied, Neil Young reflected on his career in a wave metaphor, “You’re going to go up and down. Sometimes you get lost in a trough and no one can see you and no one cares. They’re just looking at the whitecaps, then you come up again.You just have to hang in there and keep going.”
Life moves in waves. Energy moves in waves. Compressional waves — like sound waves, and transverse waves, such as light waves, like the energy of the sun reaches the Earth in transverse waves. Think of it as visible lines moving around you – do they flow freely? Are you able to move with the lines? Do the lines run parallel to you, where they are out of your reach? Where do they intersect with other lines? Do the lines spin around you like a cocoon? Or a tornado?
In his portrayal of a Shaolin monk on the Kung Fu TV series, David Carradine took us on a journey. As an orphaned child of an American father and Chinese mother, after years of rigorous spiritual training he finds himself avenging his master’s death, fleeing China as a fugitive. Ostensibly a pacifist, the lines of serenity were intersected by lines of violence. Though fighting in self defense, and always on the side of justice, the lines, most of the time, tethered him to the ground. His adventures were symbols of our own human journey: a quest for liberation and release from earthly ties.
On June 4th, David Carradine was found dead in a Bangkok hotel room, under questionable circumstances. Years of highs and lows in his personal and professional life’s energy lines seemed to have taken their toll: whether it was attributed to suicide or the result of poor judgment. And do not confuse celebrity or a fictional character with the struggles or even the “strangeness” of a real person. Those lines that we surf may allow us our rides on the energy lines of big, beautiful waves. We will fall below the lines too, pulled down deep in the undertow, as Young said “lost in the trough”. And sometimes the lines take hold, the energy seizes us, surrounds us, strangles us.
While listening to the gospel song I’ll Fly Away, a bird flew in through our window, perching on a lamp. It spread its wings and flew off to the perfect soundtrack ushering it out.There are moments that compel us to look at the seeming randomness, the possibility of synchronicity – the actual ordering of randomness and its energy. Perhaps where the lines intersect creates the space where it hurts the most. Ours is a journey; a quest for liberation and release from earthly ties. We are moving with the lines and surfing the light.
