Dropping into the Void

Ok first of all, I know. I suck at this blogging thing. At least from any kind of regularity standpoint. (It's not just this blog; my own personal diary has gaps of years or more.) I like to think that it's because I only write when I really have something to say. But maybe if I wrote more, I'd have more to say...

But really, I should let that go. I should let a lot of things go. Writer's guilt. This tension in my shoulders. My old comic book collection. That stupid thing I said to my girlfriend when I was 17.

"Oh oh," you are probably saying. "I thought I was going to read about karate, and instead, he's writing about some psychological mumbo jumbo!"

But I'm not! Really. I swear. No, no, no!

Well, maybe a little.

Actually, what I want to write about is yoga. And karate. And the similarities between them. And about letting go. Which is the main similarity between the two. Well, and the breathing. And the fact that both were inspired by the movements and postures of animals.

See what happens when I don't write often enough? I have too much to say...

Onwards.

A wise guru defined yoga as the art of letting go. Interestingly, this teacher called this the warrior's way.

When faced with difficulty, the warrior knows she has four choices. Three are instinctive; we are born knowing these responses: to run, to fight or to freeze. If we run, we avoid the threat temporarily, but we will more than likely face it again. If we fight, with tooth and claw and strength, we may vanquish or be vanquished, but we will not learn how to succeed except through fighting others. It is unlikely we will learn much about ourselves. And if we freeze, we become the deer in the headlights. Maybe the danger will pass and we will live our dumb life another day. Maybe we end up as road kill.

The warrior knows there is a fourth option. To face the difficulty, the threat, the blockage, the challenge. To breathe. And to let go. Only then will the warrior actually conquer, because that which is conquered is herself.

The physical application of yoga is just that. Create a difficulty, in the form of a pose. Then face it head on. (Or rather, heart on). Breathe. Focus on what is holding one back from achieving comfort. And then let it go.

Ok... so WTF does this have to do with karate, you ask? Everything.

The other night in the dojo, we were doing our "footwork drill." In another age, I called this "circle fight." One person stands in the middle of a circle of opponents. At random and rather quickly, each opponent rushes in, trying to push the defender in the center. The defender must use their footwork to evade the simulated attack, by spinning out of the way. I observed that only a few students were doing their footwork correctly. Some were spinning but were off balance, raising their center of gravity too high. If they were caught by the push, most resisted, fighting back, even if only for a moment, allowing themselves to be knocked out of the center of the ring.

Apparently, my sensei saw the same thing, for the very next drill we did was "dropping into the void." This is a partner exercise: one person stands with their back to the other. That person taps the first one on the shoulder. The correct response is to "drop into the void," then spin out of the way and give the tapping person a little push. It is a very simple exercise, but extremely important.

So what is "dropping into the void?" It is this: rooting, relaxing, sinking, pressurizing the lower body. Mostly, it is letting go.

Physically, dropping into the void is like sitting back on a table. You put your hands behind you, bend your knees and drop your butt, as if you had a table behind you. Internally, you sink your tail bone, as if you had a tail to rest on. You relax your shoulders and let all your upper body tension sink down through your legs into the floor. Since every action has an equal and opposite reaction, you now have energy (pressure) in your legs. Like compressing a spring, when you release the pressure, your body can move quickly. The more relaxed you are, the easier you will move. Direct your feet and hands properly, and you can spin quickly out of the way of your "attacker" and deflect their weapon (that tap on the shoulder could be a grab, or the point of a knife or barrel of a gun). Finally, the little push you give is powered by the legs, not the arms. It's just a symbol of what you could do ("if you can push, you can hit", OSensei used to say).

For this technique to work, you really have to let go. If someone has a real gun to your head, you only have one chance, but if you try to run, freeze or struggle (i.e. fixate on the outcome), you will probably end up "suffering from a permanent condition called death." Your only hope is let go, relax, breathe and face the threat.

Just as in yoga, the technique is important: posture, body alignment, footwork. But those are secondary to the main goal, not the goal themselves. The main goal is to find the challenge in oneself and face it with grace and the ability and willingness to let it all go. I used to think karate was superior, because as a martial artist, I'm taught that I'm overcoming the ultimate fear: the fear of Death. But I have had to face fears and sorrows and resentments and other character flaws in yoga that have seemed every bit as difficult to let go of. Gradually, with breath and dropping them into the void, I'm whittling them away.

Now, if I can just let go of that comic collection. And that stupid thing I said when I was 17.