Ken Gullette's Internal Fighting Arts

One of the more interesting concepts I learned when I started in Chen Taiji is the concept of "investing in loss." It was a foreign concept, but over time, I embraced it. 

When you invest in loss, you check your ego at the door. This can apply to any learning situation, but it is mostly applied in push hands. You experiment against your opponent and learn what works and what doesn't. You learn what's effective and what isn't. 

Your goal in practice is not to win. Your goal is to prepare yourself to win when your life depends on it. So your opponent may get the advantage of you. So what? The question you should focus on is not, "Did I win?"

The proper question is, "What did I learn?" 

After you try it again and again, the logical next question is, "Have I improved?" 

Some people describe "investing in loss" as allowing an opponent to attack while you appear defenseless. For me, that description doesn't work. Pretending to be weak and luring in an opponent so you can lower the boom ...

Today, Colin Frye came over to the Kung Fu Room and for one hour, we drilled three techniques over and over and over.

The techniques can be found in the Bagua Fighting Skills section of the website -- Bagua Keywords.

We practiced Threading, Hooking, and Turning.

First we practiced proper form, then one would throw multiple attacks in a realistic way and the other would use threading to deflect the attacks. After a while, we worked hooking in a similar way. Then we worked on turning, which is very effective up close.

This was a satisfying practice because we slowed down, selected three techniques and practiced them repeatedly. There are a lot of techniques on my website, and a lot of principles. But just seeing a video or learning a technique in class and practicing it a few times will not make you good at it. Practicing all the keyword techniques in an hour won't help you to improve.

The key to mastery is practicing each technique thousands of times, solitary and with a partner.

I'm a fir...

If you're going to learn forms with weapons, you should learn how to defend yourself with that weapon.

When martial arts were created, the gun was not yet a weapon. Warriors used sticks, staffs, spears, swords, and other weapons.

In our arts, we learn forms that include the staff, straight sword, broadsword, spear, and elk horn knives. We also practice single and double sticks, although they are not part of our internal curriculum.

Here's a great exercise -- and for this, you should pad up or use foam weapons. It's very important not to thrust at someone's face, and if you're going to allow non-contact thrusting to the face, everyone should have head gear that covers the face and goggles for the eyes. I've never believed in hurting anyone, or being hurt, just to learn martial arts.

This article shows photos taken last week at our practice. Chris Miller (black sash), Kim Kruse (brown sash), and I took turns in the middle and had to defend and counter while we were being attacked...

22 years ago I stood in a kung-fu school in Omaha as a black sash student (black belt) -- Bob -- was asked what a particular movement meant for self-defense. I was not a black sash at the time. Bob was a friendly person and was very helpful to lower-ranking students. When asked what a movement meant, he would demonstrate three or four powerful techniques that were hidden in the movement -- it wasn't just a block, for example, it was also an arm lock and a takedown.

I was amazed at the depth of his knowledge. How did he become so good that he could see so deeply into these flowery kung-fu movements?

The years passed and I continued to study. Sometimes, I would begin learning a long series of movements known as a "form" (often called "kata"). These forms could include up to 100 movements and take 12 or 13 minutes to perform. Each time I would begin on the first movement, it seemed that I would never get to the end.

But one step at a time -- one movement at a time -- suddenly the en...

I received a video from a member of the online school last week. He's a capta in in the army and has spent some time in the Middle East. He joined the online school a few weeks ago and has been studying the Internal Strength section (I recommend everyone start there no matter how long they've studied in the past).

He sent me a video last week so that I could coach him. His wife was on the camcorder and his daughter stood on a chair and pushed him in different ways so he could demonstrate the ground path.

I was impressed. His ground path was solid. He had never seen this concept before, although he has studied other martial arts and has army training. It was clear that he had learned it well.

In his next coaching session, he'll send me a video of silk-reeling so I can coach him on his whole-body movement, dan t'ien rotation, use of the kua, and spiraling movement.

Some people believe you can't learn the internal arts online. I'll be the first to admit that hands-on correction is the...

A story is told about Albert Einstein. He had just given a test to a class of seniors, and he was walking across campus, followed closely by an assistant.

"Dr. Einstein," the assistant said, "you just gave the same test to this year's class that you gave to last year's class."

"Ya, ya," Einstein replied. "It was the same test."

"But why would you give the same test two years in a row?"

Einstein said, "Because the answers have changed."

I had to laugh when I heard this story because it sums up how I feel about the internal arts. I suppose it should be true for anyone studying any art.

Studying tai chi, hsing-i and bagua is like trying to reach the bottom of a bottomless ocean. Just as you think you've made progress, you realize that the ocean just became deeper, and in reality, you've only just begun your journey.

If someone had asked me 10 years ago how to perform "Buddha's Warrior Attendant Pounds Mortar," the second movement of many Chen tai chi forms, I would have given an a...

I was reading an article in an ancient Tai Chi magazine about Zhu Tiancai, one of the "Four Buddha's Warriors" of the Chen Village. He was asked how masters at his level continue to learn.

He said that, since all his teachers are now dead, his progress is slow, but he continues to make progress by carefully analyzing his own movements and delving deeper into the possibilities of the movements, and the principles of tai chi.

My belief is that your best progress will come during solo practice. A lot of people go to class and get corrections, but they become too dependent on that. Some of them never go home and really analyze the movements slowly. They think too much about choreography.

Sometimes, your best practice would be to spend an hour on just a couple of movements, such as Buddha's Warrior Attendant Pounds Mortar and Lazy About Tying the Coat, watching and slowly going through each subtlety in the body mechanics until that light bulb turns on above your head as you try to sit back ...

Before I moved back to the Quad Cities from Tampa a few weeks ago, I sent a message to my core group of students. I was signalling a new approach to training, or, if not completely new, a determination to take our practices up a notch.

When Nancy and I owned a "school" that we closed when we moved to Tampa, all types of people were students--older people who only wanted the exercise type of tai chi, younger people who missed classes and obviously didn't practice--and you had to accept everyone if you wanted to pay the school's bills.

The effect was a watering down of practice. I wasn't happy about it, and the more I taught, the less satisfied I was as a martial artist.

My intent upon returning was to maintain a small group of core students who could step up and tolerate more physically demanding workouts. Although I made good friends among other students, including the older ones, my main goal has always been to be the best martial artist that I can be. I'm no longer interested in ...

Ever since I began studying the martial arts--34 years ago--I've run into a lot of guys who think that in order to show your skill, you need to hurt someone or prove how tough you are by taking hard shots or a lot of punishment.

You see them in classes, inflicting pain on others. You see them putting their own bodies through painful ordeals from pounding on makawara boards for hours on end to breaking blocks of ice with their foreheads. You see them bragging about how they got their nose broken, or how they got hit real hard in the head (and their bragging includes how well they can take a good punch or kick).

There is an interesting psychological thing happening here. I don't know if it's insecurity, a bad self image, or they didn't get hugged enough as kids. But these guys will always tell you that you need to endure a lot of physical pain and abuse if you're going to be a "real" martial artist.

Bull crap.

Often, the Dog Brothers are held up as icons of "pure" martial arts becaus...

In December 2000, a kung fu teacher from China named Master Wang held a seminar at my friend John Morrow's school in Moline. Several students showed up to study a variety of kung fu and tai chi techniques. I enjoyed meeting him, and it was obvious he had studied a while. Being a skeptic, I doubted that he was a real master. Anyone can come over from China with a little experience and fool us Americans. Many do.

But I still enjoyed the seminar. Master Wang had us practice different techniques with a partner, and he kept watching me. He said something to his interpreter, and the interpreter came over to me and said, "Master Wang says that you have kung fu."

Well, I was flattered. At the end of class, the interpreter told me that Master Wang was in town helping to build a Chinese restaurant for a friend, and he would like to train with me while he was there. He and the interpreter came over to my school twice a week for a few weeks. It was an interesting experience, and I learned as muc...