How Light is Your Bo?
Published: 2/01/2014
By Spencer sensei
When judging weapon’s kata, the head judge is supposed to inspect the competitor’s weapon. There are many reasons for this. Safety is the major one. Always check the handle on bladed weapons. This is to ensure that a handle does not slip from a weapon as it is being brandished about in the air. Another safety check is to look for fraying of the chord on a pair of nunchakus. If the chord breaks, there could be collateral damage as the weapon flies through the air. Another inspection that is commonly made is to measure the weight of the weapon. Today there are metal alloys and poly carbon fiber materials that, although are durable, carry little weight. A lighter Bo (Staff) translates to faster tip speed. Speed and impact have a direct correlation on the power generated within a strike, but so does the weight of the weapon. Wield a weapon of greater weight with the same tip speed, and the impact of the blow will be increased. Watching a Bo that is so fast that it appears to be no more than a blur is impressive. Tournament judges cannot be familiar with all weapon’s kata, so there are some standards used to judge a competitor’s performance. These standards are stances, power, tip speed of the weapon, balance, and the plausibility of the demonstrated technique. When the martial artist puts all these attributes together, you have a karateka that understands his/her weapon and can wield it with authority. This article is not about judging weapons kata it is about the warrior spirit that lives in every karateka. It is about your approach to training. It probes the question, “How light is your Bo?” The weight of your Bo is a metaphor for your martial arts.
The impetus for this article comes from a weapon’s kata I watched few years ago. No… I’m not a staunch traditionalist, and I do appreciate plausible innovation, but there is a difference between the ludicrous and the plausible. The young man’s performance that I watched rewarded him with a first place in the competition. Fortunately for him I was not one of the judges on his panel. At one point in his form, he spun the Bo (staff) around his neck like the propeller on an airplane. He followed that movement by pitching the Bo high in the air, and as he caught it on its decent, he proceeded to do a summersault landing in a forward stance thrusting the Bo forwards with a loud kiai (yell). The crowd erupted with cheers and judges awarded him high scores, but the problem is that in a real fight he would have been beat to death. What was the bunkai (meaning of the technique) for pitching his weapon in the air? Was he dislodging something stuck in a tree while in the midst of an attack? The summersault was impressive, but I would have beaten him like a piñata while he floated through the air. Lastly his Bo was made from extraordinarily light material, so the tip speed of the weapon was impressive, and produced oohs and ahhs from the spectators, but it lacked the real power the weapon was designed to deliver. A skilled karateka could break this weapon with their empty hand technique, so what is the value of the weapon. This student was not a karateka. He was a marginal acrobat. He bested students that trained with heavier traditional weapons that utilized techniques tested on the Shuri Castle grounds and village battlefields in Okinawa. His performance was better suited to that of a Drum Majorette. He should have been in front of fifty members of a high school marching band and not in front of a panel of so-called black-belt weapons experts. Worse yet, no one questioned that there might be a problem with what he did. I ask you, should we teach our students to be acrobats or warriors? Is your goal life preservation or winning gold trophies? How light is your Bo?
I read a short story many years ago in a national karate publication that speaks to the warrior’s spirit. This is my shortened version of that story. A wealthy merchant offended a local samurai. The young samurai gave the merchant thirty-days to put his affairs in order before he took his head. Killing the merchant offended the sensibility of the samurai because it was beneath him to kill someone he regarded as no more than pampered house pet. Still, the merchant had touched the sheath of his katana (long sword) and because of the code that he followed he could not let this insult pass.
Unfortunately for the merchant it had become fashionable to wear and train with the long sword. In the code of the swordsman if the sheath of the katana touched as two samurai passed each other it was considered a challenge. The wealthy merchant not being familiar with wearing the swords made the fatal mistake as he past the local samurai. The young samurai disliked the fact that his daimyo allowed these wealthy men to wear the two swords. This honor, he thought, should have only been the right of the warrior class. He knew these wealthy men did not understand the bushido, but supplied the daimyo with rice and other comforts, so he decided to exhibit his distaste with action.
The merchant instead of simply awaiting his fate sought help from a ronin samurai. Ronin samurai were swordsmen unbound to a lord. Ronin translates “wave men” because they were tossed about like the waves upon the ocean. They would travel about and hire out their skills to any local daimyo that needed them. Occasionally when times were extremely tough, they would teach fencing to rich men and their children. The merchant asked the ronin to be instructed in the way of the sword, so that he might improve his skills. The unemployed samurai was in need of funds, so he began instructing the merchant in the way of the sword. Each day the merchant would show up with his wooden sword and take a beating from the ronin. In the last week of training the merchant asked the ronin if he had a chance of defeating the trained swordsman. The gruff old ronin laughed and said, “You’ll be dead after the first pass of the samurai’s blade.” “It is not that you do not have courage or decent skills,” he continued, “but that you have too much tying you to this earth. I see you holding back even in your training. The samurai only wants to make the perfect cut or die trying. He has nothing to live for and only seeks an honorable death.” The merchant rubbed his bruised arms and finished his last week of training without another question. On the morning of the duel he sent his wife and children away, and awaited the samurai’s return. At noon the samurai arrived, and as he walked into the merchant’s courtyard, he saw the merchant sitting resolute and calmly waiting. The merchant had piled all his earthly treasures in one heap in the middle of the courtyard. When the samurai strode in, the merchant rose slowly, turned, and set his home and all his belongings on fire. Next the merchant deliberately turned and slowly pulled his blade from its sheath and focused his stare on the samurai. “Ahh” said the young samurai as a smile spread to the corners of his mouth. “Today I face an honored death. Today I face not a satin pillow but a samurai.” A real warrior burns his/her home to the ground when in a life preservation situation. They don’t contemplate the “what-ifs” of going into battle. It is all or nothing. You cannot worry about hurting someone when your life or the lives of your loved ones are on the line. Are you willing to burn down your house to save your life? How light is your Bo?
As I’ve already mentioned your Bo is a metaphor for your karate training, and I do not mean to literally burn down your home. Burning down your home means to focus all your attention on your actions. Do not be double minded. Training is mental as well as physical. Is your training all flash or is it substantive? Do you enter the dojo expecting to perfect your technique, or are you in search of the next belt to hang on your wall? Are you seeking the title black-belt more than you’re seeking what it means to be a black-belt? Is taking short cuts to get the undisciplined crowd’s approval okay by you? How light is your Bo?
Okay here is a little information about training with the Bo. When training with the staff or Bo, you should practice with three different weighted weapons. The light Bo is for repetition training. When first learning the movements within a form, it is necessary to perform the moves over and over. The light Bo helps with the body-mind connection by imprinting the movements through these repetitions. The heavy Bo is to build muscle. You need strength to wield your weapon with speed and power. A medium oak Bo is for combat and demonstration. It is not too light nor is it too heavy. You can only evaluate a karateka’s weapons kata when they’re wielding a real weapon. Using a light Bo in competition is cheating. As you increase in understanding the pattern of the form, you must also look at the movements to discover the internal bunkai (Meaning of a series of technique). If you do not know the bunkai, you’re simply dancing with a stick and regardless of the perspiration involved your training is light. As you begin to seriously train, you must give energy to every technique. Not giving every strike, thrust, block or strip full power and speed during practice is cheating. Not pushing yourself at each workout to get better is cheating. Sadly… the only one you really cheat is yourself. When your training is light, your weapon is weak, and heaven help you if you need it on some dark and dreary night because it will not be there. How light is your Bo?
My son did several tours in Afghanistan and one in Iraq. Before leaving for his tour in Iraq he asked to see me, so I flew out. It was a moment I’ll never forget. I witnessed the courage of these young men as they left their families and boarded the planes at Fort Bragg. They were headed for a fearsome uncertainty, but all were resolute. I watched the faces of their wives and children as they lined up to fly off to war. I remember thinking about how young they were. In the car as we were returning to my son’s home on base, I heard a small voice from the backseat. My grandson asked, “Is my daddy going to die?” I assured him that would not happen and wondered if this question was on the lips of other children as they saw their dad or mom leaving for combat. I wish every American man and women could have been there in that moment, so that they too might more abundantly appreciate the sacrifices made by these young men and women that serve our country. Today, due to politics, the government they served seems to be turning their back on these warriors. How soon we forget the sacrifice of these youngsters. How soon the media forgets their service. They burnt their houses down and faced our enemy, while we sat safely in our America homes complaining that our internet speed was too slow, or that mom over cooked the roast. The war has become old news, but I we should not forget. How light is your Bo?
A karate student only gets out of the martial arts what they put into it. You only honor your instructors, school, and tradition when you try with every technique to be the best of the best. We only get better when we try to be better. You cannot improve if you live in a world of self-doubt. A true karateka makes every empty hand block, kick, and punch count. They try to deliver each strike as if it was meant to save their life. Karateka take each given opportunity to perfect their technique. Martial arts is not about being perfect, it is about reaching for perfection. It is not about cheating the system to please the crowd. It is about having the confidence it takes to face giants. It is not about flash and applause or golden trophies. It is about life preservation skills. If an instructor does not teach real world fighting skills, he/she has done their students a disservice. If you grace the dojo floor once a year, you ‘re not prepared to burn your house down in a conflict. If you do not seek to get better with each practice, you’ll be crushed in a real combat situation. You only get a return when you make an investment. No investment no return. How light is your Bo?