It’s been said that, of those who start martial arts training, 1 in 100 will stick long enough to gain a 1st degree black belt. Of those, 1 in 100 will stick long enough to get their second degree. This means that out of every 10,000 people starting out on what’s meant to be a life’s journey, at least 9,999 quit along the way. I know many who get their black belt and then never walk into the dojo again – what a waste.

I am of the strong opinion that we, at least here in the U.S. Overemphasize rank and external accomplishment – or at least the symbols of those accomplishments. Don’t get me wrong, I am proud of achieving my rank in my chosen martial art, but not because I get to wear a black belt to show off to people. I am proud because I stuck with my chosen art for over 14 years, trained hard, and learned a lot. Getting my first dan a number of years ago didn’t mean I was the master of anything.

Today, I see a ton of martial arts teachers with 10th degree black belts giving themselves huge fanciful titles like professor, doctor, great grandmaster etc. It leaves a bit of a bad taste in my mouth. To me, it’s the focus on the external, the rank, the title that is just crazy. Being called superhuman power master 33rd degree doesn’t mean you’re a good martial artist, or a good teacher. What makes people good martial artists and good teachers is very simple: be a good martial artist and a good teacher.

I’m not saying that all titles are bogus. Certainly some are meant to convey organizational structure or teacher licensing. In this case, there may be a quality control measure.

However, we live in the land of marketing. We are a jaded society and we need proof of credibility. Many teachers look for certificates, titles, etc. to prove  they are the most awesome martial arts super-humans on the planet. The truth is, sometimes they are. The flip-side to that truth is that sometimes they are not. Having been around the block a few times, seeing 9000 patches on a uniform combined with a belt with 47 stripes and a list of titles tends to set off my BS detector.

The term “black-belt” is now used to market just about everything else as well. I am reminded six sigma business training which awards actual black belts. Stuff like this takes away more meaning.

My sensei told me the following, and I’m sure he got it from someone wise as well: “black belt means that you are starting to learn.” Wrapping a piece of black silk around your waist does not turn you into Yoda or mean that you are going to be Donald Trump in the boardroom. It means that you have gotten good enough that you’re no longer an idiot and the real learning can begin.

When does that learning stop? When you exhale your last breath. Then, depending on your belief system, you get to carry on in the next life.

I refer to the philosophy of our system as martial alchemy because outwardly, we seek to transform gross body movements into efficient martial gold. Inwardly, we use the physical practice of martial arts as a bridge to spiritual and mental perfection.

From time to time, people get hinky when we mention the word “spiritual” because they frequently equate spirituality with religion. that’s fine but, as a rule, we stay clear of religion – everyone is entitled to their own and we do not ever preach religion. We might borrow examples from religious doctrines as a teaching tool, but our students are expected to come to their own truths about these things.

Training the spirit in martial arts, to us, means becoming acquainted with and integrating the  invisible parts of ourselves while becoming intimately more aware of our place in the universe. Spirit training, to us, builds a form of mental and emotional resilience or toughness where we can roll with the punches the universe sends us and take greater control of our own destiny. It involves accepting and working with the hidden parts of ourselves (often called the shadow). Spirit training also involves training the will or “fighting spirit”

Our training is integrated, so that training the body trains the mind and the spirit. I am reminded of my early training, sometimes doing the same set of footwork for hours on end. This accomplished several things. First, it imprinted the symbols of the foot movements into my unconscious brain, they became a part of me as new, more efficient neural pathways were developed. Second it required me to work through the enemies of boredom and fatigue. Every time the mind said quit, I would smile and tell myself I was loving the work.

This type of training builds mental toughness, something which is perfectly handy for for a professional warrior or someone who sits in a cubicle all day. Done correctly, the training will also make you smarter by creating newer and stronger neural-connections in the brain.

The philosopher’s stone in martial alchemy is the training.

It’s a good idea not to box a boxer, or wrestle a wrestler, or out-kick a Muay Thai kickboxer. So, what should you do if faced with someone with greater skill, or speed?

One thing that neutralizes a great deal of speed and skill is proximity. Move in as close as you can. In our practice I tell students to try to wear your opponent like a suit. This takes a little bit of courage as beginners usually like to create greater distance. As a beginner distance is probably your friend, it does take some skill to move in on an attacking person.

The thing about boxers, kickers, even grapplers is that they are all most effective in the range their tools are designed for. We like to be even closer than grappling range.

What? Isn’t grappling range as close as possible? Not really. Yes grappling frequently involves body to body contact, but you can neutralize most takedowns and throws by eliminating space even farther and melding your bodyweight onto your opponents. I’ve done it with judo players, MMA guys, and wrestlers.

Once you’re inside this range, you should have an arsenal of very close combat tools – flesh tearing, joint locking,eye poking, etc. Knees and elbows become tools of choice.

In our school of Ketsugo Jujutsu, as taught be Peter Freedman, sensei – we recognize three levels of kuzushi – mental, physical, and spiritual.

Physical kuzushi is where the jujutsuka (practitioner of jujutsu) does something to take an opponent’s physical balance – which can often lead to a fall, takedown, or throw. Sometimes kuzushi means that an opponent must take a step or otherwise move to regain balance – which may create an openening for another attack. There are many ways of creating a  physical kuzushi – pushing, pulling, bumping, locking, striking, kicking, or merely moving out of the way at the last moment.

Mental kuzushi is the act of creating confusion in one’s opponent (mental unbalance) causing their mind to slow and thus their reactions. Mental kuzushi may be caused through trickery, words, confusing phsyical techniques, hidden strikes, etc.

When we talk about spirit, this is more akin to “fighting spirit” than the religious sense of the word. We are talking about emotion. Spiritual kuzushi causes emotional unbalance, frequently sapping the will to fight, or causing rash action. An example might be causing an opponent to bleed or pointing out that they are bleeding. In a multiple attacker scenario, sometimes taking out the “alpha” attacker takes the fighting spirit of the rest of the group. Extreme pain can also be a spiritual kuzushi.

A single defense against an attack may encompass all three types of kuzushi. When an opponent strikes, let’s say we shift out of the way at the last moment. Our movement may cause the opponent to off-balance himself physically. We may land a hidden strike which, combined with our last minute shift, may confuse him. And, he may grow angry, upset, or even frightened that his attack didn’t work and he’s now in unexpected pain – a spiritual kuzushi.

I am sure that this person was not totally satisfied with the answer. What the person was looking for was akin to the age-old mental rat-hole that we see time and time again, “which martial art is the best.” Let me be up front, there is no such thing. If there was, everybody would learn that one, and it would cease to be effective. On to the question at hand:

There is nothing wrong with sport-oriented martial arts schools. I don’t denigrate other systems or teachers. Sport schools simply have a different focus. As a practitioner of combat-oriented jujutsu, I would undoubtedly get wasted stepping into a ring with a seasoned MMA competitor. I have no idea even what the rules our. My training, which involves killing and crippling techniques, would not carry over legally into the ring. I would be unprepared.

Does this mean that my art sucks? For MMA competition, yes. However, I personally have used my jujutsu to stave off a couple of assaults. My teacher, and fellow students have used this exact training to survive knife and gun assaults, muggings, attempted rapes, and other violent encounters. Our training works, and I have confidence in it.

Does this mean that an MMA competitor would do crappy in a self defense situation. Who knows? It really depends on the person, the situation, and the encounter. Surely MMA practitioners have combative skills and a high fitness level that may be helpful in a combat situation. Some tendencies of MMA fighters (such as the focus on a single adversary, going to the ground, and a lack of weapons training) might be shortcomings in certain situations unless there has been some cross training.

One thing I have learned over the years is that combat effectiveness is less about the art and more about the artist. I’d like to think that our training has been tweaked by real world survival situations enough that it provides a significant advantage in self-defense. I can tell you that there is no training like ours in Maine. But, if you come here expecting to learn how to grapple for points, you’ll be disappointed.

One of the signs that a person is not going to last long in the art is their level of frustration or boredom with practicing the basics (Kihon Waza). I remember demonstrating a fairly complex drill one time, watching a pair of beginners do it exactly twice, and having one of them say, “ok I got that, can we do something different now?” My jaw must have dropped. Here’s a beginner who believes he can master the martial arts by practicing each drill or technique once or twice – best of luck.

If you’ve ever been to a pro basketball game, what happens before the game? The teams come out on the court and warm up by practicing shooting baskets, they practice passing and throwing free-throws. The best skilled athletes in the world practice their basics daily. Professional boxers still jump rope, hit the heavy bag and speed bag every day. Even if you have gotten to a level of relative mastery – practice of basics is necessary to keep your skills.

At the risk of sounding like my grandfather who tells stories of walking to school in 9 feet of snow: When I was coming up in jujutsu, my teacher would sometimes have us practice the same 10 basic movements for 3 solid hours with no breaks. A lot of people dropped out, they didn’t have the mental fortitude to keep training like that. Those who stuck with it got very good very fast. The movements became second nature. Their body alignments and kinesthetic awareness grew quickly. Advanced techniques became easier to learn. They moved like jujutsuka.

One day, I spotted a man walking about 1/2 mile down a busy street. I couldn’t see who he was, but could tell by how he moved that he was one of my training partners. He spotted me walking towards him at the same time and his hand went up in a wave. I waved back. When I got closer,  sure enough, it was a buddy of mine from the dojo.

It is very difficult to practice basics too much. What you are doing with repetition is building efficient neural pathways and “muscle memory”. By practicing properly, and getting adjusted by an instructor with a keen eye, you will instinctively form proper body alignment when executing under stress.

In Japanese, there are 3 almost interchangeable terms which are used to mean “martial arts” – Budo, Bugei, and Bujutsu. Understanding the subtle differences can lend insight into the arts themselves.

First, the character for Bu (武) means war, or military (martial), or having to do with warfare. Bujin, for example, combines the symbols for war and man to mean “warrior”.

Bugei – 武芸, is probably the best literal translation for the term “martial arts.” Budo – 武道 can be translated as the martial way, or path. Bujutsu – 武術 can’t be literally translated, but basically means, “martial science”.

The interesting distinction here is between the characters which are pronounced “do” and “jutsu”. “Do,” meaning path or way, holds the implication of a way of life or path for personal and spiritual perfection. “Jutsu,” in contrast, carries the connotation of a battlefield art.

In Japanese martial arts, there are “do” arts and “jutsu” arts. The do arts place less emphasis on battlefield preparation and more emphasis on personal development. From jujutsu, judo was developed as a way to train the mind and body of young men. From Aikijujutsu, Aikido was developed as a way of pursuing peace through martial arts. From Kenjutsu, Kendo was developed as a method of personal development. These are very simplified distinctions, but they hold truth.

I actually believe it is unfortunate that the Gracies call their art Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, it should probably be called Brazilian Judo. It’s origin is from Kodokan Judo. Nowadays, because of the UFC, every time I tell someone I practice jujutsu, they think I focus on mat wrestling. This is not to denigrate Brazilian Jui-jitsu, it’s  just not what I do.