Ken Gullette's Internal Fighting Arts

Martial arts -- they're not for everyone.

How often have you heard someone say that? I've not only heard it, I've said it.

David Brooks just wrote one of the best op-ed pieces I've ever read in The New York Times about how to live the best life possible. If you are a martial artist, and a dedicated one, you might see yourself in this wonderful piece.

For those of us who feel compelled to practice these arts long-term, we don't see the strain and the pain of learning as an obstacle.

We are faced with intricate movement that requires us to rewire our brains and bodies.

We are corrected over and over by our teachers.

And when other students who enroll in a martial arts class give up because it's "too difficult," we see that difficulty and pain as a challenge. Do we feel uncoordinated? Yes. Does it discourage us? No, it makes us work harder.

We work to get better, and the better we get, the more we practice. We know we can do better.

We practice and study -- week after week, yea...

When I teach, I try to give a lot of detail, especially about the body mechanics that make the internal arts so powerful. Sometimes, however, it's not good to overwhelm students who are just learning a form. We all occasionally need to take it one layer at a time when it comes to complexity.

I spent many years studying Taiji, Xingyi and Bagua without being taught some crucial details. The reason I wasn't taught it? Because my teacher didn't know the details. A lot of times, we think our teachers are masters because they say they are. Especially before the internet, there was no real way to know for sure. We just took a teacher at his word. That's not enough anymore.

The truth is, the internal arts can be as simple or as complex as you want them. If you want to do them for health and fitness, you can just learn the choreography and that might be enough for you.

I try to start every student's learning with the six key body mechanics that I identified after studying Yang style for more...

In my live online Taiji classes this week, I focused on the first two or three movements of the Laojia Yilu form and focused on what it takes to avoid "leaking energy."

You can leak energy throughout the form. When you step, or when you shift your weight, it's very common to see even people who call themselves "master" leaking energy and going "outside the frame."

When you leak energy during your movement, you have a break in your structure, and you put yourself in a vulnerable position, making it easier for an opponent to control your center.

Let's look at the very first movement in a form -- the Opening movement when you start with feet together, then you relax, sink, and step your left foot to the right. Then you shift your weight to the center before your hands rise.

Here is a Taiji instructor who will remain unidentified (this is about principle, not shaming). There are many instructors I could have chosen. In Image 1, he is preparing to step out. Notice the angle of his right...

I hit the big 7-0 last week.

They say age is just a number, but in my case, it's a BIG number.

I didn't even know how to spell septuagenarian and now I is one.

It's bad enough I've been dealing with the loss of one lung and a heart problem for the past 13 years, but now I have to be an old man, too? That's like adding insult to injury!

It's enough to make you throw sidekicks.

Okay, Ken. Stop and take a breath.

Center yourself.

Calm your mind and relax your rapidly withering, creaking body.

Worse things can happen to you than turning 70. For example, you could have died before you turned 70.

I had one grandfather who died at age 27, another who died at 69, and my dad died at age 61. I should be happy that I'm still studying, practicing, and teaching the internal arts. And I actually am very happy about that.

But it plays with your head. On the day after my birthday last week, I realized that I felt no different than I did the week before. I felt young. You know, like I was ...

My dog Lucky smiles when Nancy or I get home from work or other errands. He is a strong, 55-pound Labrador/Pit Bull mix who could tear one of us apart if he wanted, but instead, he smiles at us when he greets us.

I didn't know why he does this, so I looked it up because someone who doesn't know Lucky might think he is baring his teeth, ready to eat them alive.

When dogs do this, it is called a "Submissive Smile." It is their way of communicating, "I am not aggressive."

I found out about this "Submissive Smile" and realized I do the same thing. When I encounter a stranger, I smile, nod or say hello, even when I just pass someone in the cereal aisle at the grocery store, among the boxes of Cocoa Puffs and Honey Smacks.

I am always quick with a joke or a light comment to put people at ease. I like for people around me to relax and have fun.

Perhaps I'm communicating, "I am not aggressive" in my own friendly way.

I once told someone, "I am a man of peace." The person replied, "Then...

Everything about martial arts changed for me the day I met my first Chen Taiji instructors, Jim and Angela Criscimagna.

On a Saturday morning in early 1998 I drove to their home in Rockford, Illinois, about two hours from my home, to find out what some of these "body mechanics" were that I had recently read about in an internet chat room -- terms like "ground path" and "peng jin."

Jim worked with me for an hour, explaining the difference between the Yang style Taiji I had studied up to that point and the Chen style that he was studying and teaching.

In one hour, I knew I had to start over. What I had been studying was empty. It was based on "chi cultivation" and not on body mechanics.

After 25 years in martial arts and more than a decade in the internal arts, I couldn't find my kua with both hands. This was a problem, considering I had a "black sash" and was already teaching. My students and I were already making a splash at area martial arts tournaments. Now, my style of Taiji had...

I am reading "Bruce Lee: A Life," by Matthew Polly. Bruce possessed one quality that he had in common with almost all successful people.

Bruce Lee believed in himself, had a goal, and worked hard to reach his goal.

Do you have a martial arts goal? Do you want to learn Bagua, or Taiji, or Xingyi? 

It is a good idea not to write down a goal that is overwhelming. Do you want to learn Chen Taiji? Then start with the silk-reeling exercises. Set a goal of learning one every two days, and set a time to study. It may only be ten or twenty minutes, but that is okay. 

Perhaps your goal is to learn a form. You can have a big goal such as "Learn Xingyi," but then have smaller goals that help you achieve the big goal. 

Do you want to learn the Five Fist Postures? Then write down your goal, set a day to complete it, and then plan out the time to study and practice and get feedback.

Maybe your next goal is the Bagua Swimming Body form. Set a time to complete it, then make a plan to take it move...

Grandmaster Chen Xiaowang was teaching us the proper way to do fajin ("issuing energy") with the Hidden Hand Punch movement from Laojia Yilu. He had each person stand in front of him and do the movement.

I had really been practicing, and I was particularly proud of the way I was able to close into the kua before firing the punch. I had been studying Chen Taiji for over five years, practicing and practicing. I knew I was going to get a "good" from the Grandmaster.

He stood and watched as I assumed the position, legs wide, and I closed into the kua.

He shook his head. "Too much," he said.

"Too much?" I asked.

There was a bit of a language barrier, but it was clear that he did not like what he saw.

"Too much."

He showed me, and he settled into the kua the way I had done. "Too much," he repeated. Then he did it again, closing into the kua in a much more subtle way.

"Just enough," he said.

Ahhh, just enough.

I tried to copy him, and closed much softer. Then I fired the punch.

He ...

Last October, I offered a free tai chi class for people aged 40 and over. I stopped teaching older students a decade ago because I wanted to focus on the martial-oriented side of the internal arts. But we used to have a lot of fun with the older friends we made, so I started this new, free class to make new friends, have fun, and teach the Chen 19 form. Some of the students were nearly 80 years old. The oldest student was 83.

When you have practiced a form for 20 years, it seems easy. It was clear the very first night that even a beginning, short form like the Chen 19 appears like a deep, yawning abyss in front of someone who has not studied it before. The idea of actually getting through the thing seems impossible when you are learning the first movement.

As we went through the opening movement, I began coaching them through the simple stepping out and raising the arms, then dropping the energy while lowering the arms.

We practiced it a few times and then I said, "Okay, practice th...