One recurring reason I love to practice is that Chinese martial arts are so clever. There’s a tremendous range of knowledge, and generations have contributed thousands of smart techniques. If I were given a stick to hold with both my hands, I could never invent the variations in staff movements that I’ve learned. If someone grabbed me, I would have no idea of what to do without the training I’ve received. I’m fascinated by the ingenuity of it all, even to this day.
Training in martial arts means constant learning. That might mean research, discussion, or reading, but in the main, it means observation, memorization, and attempting the movements. All of that must be followed by constant adjustment over many months and years.
It might seem as if it’s a matter of repeating a set until I remember it. But really, it’s about observing myself. I strive to go beyond imitation. I must practice a movement hundreds of times until I understand how it feels, what it’s supposed to do in terms of alignment and coordination. I need to see how I could use the movement in a fight. Sometimes, I discover a movement that feels so right that it becomes part of my personal expression.
Scientists have told us about brain plasticity. Martial arts is about far more than the brain. Maybe we can talk about neural plasticity throughout the entire body. Bluntly: if I’m not learning every day, I’m losing every day.
This is another reason why I like martial arts: it gives me a set of daily learning assignments. After all these years, I’ve finally developed the discipline to select the movements that I am the most INCAPABLE of doing. I take what I’m bad at and really train with repetitions in the hundreds or even thousands. (Don’t be impressed; one can get 1,000 punches off in less than ten minutes.) And to my chagrin, it still isn’t enough. Sometimes it takes me six months to even get a reasonable version of a set. It probably takes me at least two years to reach a mundane level of facility.
My teachers criticize me. I have to be able to take that. I’ve been practicing for decades now, but it’s still daunting. Between class, spouse, family, clients, and editors, I have a steady stream of people pointing out my deficiencies. Yes, it’s depressing to give your best only to be told that it was littered with problems.
However, when teachers see that a student is really struggling, they’ll be kind and encouraging. They’ll set aside a host of problems for a later time. Since a majority of students quit, those vital corrections never get made. A teacher’s criticisms are appropriate to a student’s level. So the better I get, the more severe the corrections become. I keep trying to be the best even though I make mistakes and I’m old. So I accept criticism as an integral part of learning.
Imagine if I didn’t do any of this. I would be that much more backward. I wouldn’t have an accurate idea of my abilities. I intend to keep learning the new and unfamiliar as long as I can. That’s the meaning of lifelong learning.