In discussion of Flow

I thought PR had a nice statement he made in another thread. Before going on to discussion on "flow", I thought I would bring this point up and post a portion of a story from our own Koyo.

This reminded me of one of the stories in "Kenshi" by William Coyle (who we know here as Koyo). I know these stories are fictional, but the story seems appropriate.

From Kenshi...

Yagyu Shin Kage Ryu dojo in Edo

The clash of the boken, the slap of naked feet on wooden floor and the hiss of silent kiai. Yagyu Jubei was leading the class in the kata of Yagyu Kage Ryu ken. Jubei who had a well earned reputation as a fierce swordsman of volatile temper sat in seiza his back as straight as a spear as he watched his dark eyes missing nothing as the half dozen young students applied themselves to the severe training.

Kata, a prearranged series of strikes and thrusts meant to be practiced thousands of times, hour after hour, day after day until the movements became part of the swordsman. To become pure instinct so that the technique would 'happen' when called for.

The class was drawing to a close yet there was no let up of concentration or effort. each and every blow was delivered with the utmost conviction as the trainees drove each other back and forth across the dojo.

Suddenly, one of the swordsmen deviated from the form and lashed a horizontal cut at the hip of the opponent. There was a sickening crack of bone as his partner instinctively countered and brought his boken down in a cut which had obviously broken the wrist of the attacker.

"Yame! Stop!" roared Jubei leaping to his feet and in one smooth motion was between them. The uninjured man was sent staggering across the dojo fighting desperately to keep his feet. Jubei faced the injured swordsman and roared into his face. "Why did you deviate from the kata?"

"Sensei, I thought I saw an opening and took advantage of it. I was wrong. Please excuse me," the injured man said bowing deeply.

Jubei ordered the class to sit. After a long and ominous silence Jubei addresses them.

"Watch and learn this lesson well," he said.

"Onigaishimasu," he said to the injured man. The class was surprised, rarely did Jubei ask any of them to train with him. He turned angry eyes on the injured man.

Stoically the young samurai tightened his grip on his boken flinching from the pain this caused in his broken forearm. He attempted to raise the boken to seigan, the pain was excruciating. He attempted to not show it and raised his eyes to those of Jubei. He saw no quarter there. "The kata again," he said.

The bokens clashed and the shock wave drew all the colour from the face of Jubei's opponent. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his arms began to shake uncontrollably.

One more clash of bokens and the young man was in utter agony, "Yame! Stop!" hissed Jubei. "Now do you see what one stupid mistake may lead to. The pain is nothing. It can be endured. But your composure is gone. You cannot wield your weapon properly. Even one of those fools from Yedo could defeat you now. You could not mount a defense let alone attack," he snapped. "None of you understand the essence of kata," he roared letting his anger wash over the students.

"Kata is not competition. It is not a game. In competition, one or the other will win or lose. This is acceptable for fools who play games. Kata is life or death. In competition if you come under strong attack you are free to leap away, a match can be won by an impressive technique that would not kill on the battlefield. In kata when you face a killing strike, you must remain under it to the last split second. This takes courage. This confronts the fear and danger. In competition the combatants are forever breaking away from each other, changing their tactics looking for new ways to win. In kata we instantly take control of the ma-ai (combat distance) we strive to develop our spirit. We apply principles rather than techniques. Our techniques are hidden somewhere nobody knows. When people see our kata they only see the stripes of the tiger. They cannot see the spirit and the power. We are forever aware that there may be other opponents. In competition it is already accepted that you may lose, come in second. This is no way for a warrior to think. Death itself can not defeat me". Jubei seemed to be talking to himself now and the class watched fearfully...

 

I believe there are not just different definitions for "flow" in martial arts, but also, there is a distinct separation of flow in training compared to flow in application (real world).

Flow in application comes down to instinctive movement or as some say, muscle memory. Flow in application happens in an instant, maybe too fast for the naked eye to see.

Flow in training is in the development of transforming something that is NOT instinctive movement into something that is. The flow is in the minimizing of transitions between and during movements where one is open to countering, focusing on principles such as "constant pressure".

Flow in training could involve the development of "sensitivity", "timing and broken timing", and other concepts used in martial arts.

 

To me, flow is a very simple concept:

The ability to act in an optimal fashion in any circumstance.

i.e. no resetting, no hesitation.

What accompanies this is your ability to remain in a situation conducive to acting in an optimal fashion (eg. not on the floor having your face smashed in).

Many arts have training exercises to build attributes to facilitate this; sensitivity, continuous motion without hesitation etc. But I think unless these exercises involve a certain amount of thinking on your feet, they won't aid so much in application.

 

I can read your post and get different tid bits of wisdom from it. One could be that flow goes along with the ability to adapt to a situation... something I would call "fluidity" or "be like water" as Bruce Lee liked to say.

But also acting in an optimal fashion goes along with combat principles such as "minimum movement, maximum mobility" in times requiring great bravery, to not move until the last possible moment. Here is a demonstration of "minimum movement, maximum mobility":

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BMWsOyOHaaA"]Kyûzô the Swordsman - Seven Samurai (1/4) Movie CLIP (1954) HD - YouTube[/ame]

A simple corner step footwork, but if done too early, the opponent can "track" you and adjust his strike.

 

I was including that in this:

Which is a subject of its own, and a broader and deeper one than "flow" (edit: but intrinsically linked). i.e. "how do I gain, and maintain, a superior position?".

 

Answer = BJJ

(sorry, could not help it)

 

A complicated beast.

For me, to understand flow is like understand all possible routes of action through muscle memory and drilling, and being able to move through them all seamlessly.

The Flow part only really comes into its own when you are able to shed yourself of attachment to the outcome, and instead act/react in the moment without forcing your will or technique on where you feel it should be.

Only when you come at it with such an open mind can you flow, otherwise you will keep getting stuck when you believe your technique should work, and cannot understand why it does not, and refuse to accept that it has already failed.

 

Switch your mind off and let your body do the work.

 

Readily connected to this is ''flow state''

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flow_(psychology)

''Flow is the mental state of operation in which a person performing an activity is fully immersed in a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and enjoyment in the process of the activity. In essence, flow is characterized by complete absorption in what one does. Proposed by Mihály Csíkszentmihályi, this positive psychology concept has been widely referenced across a variety of fields.[1]
According to Csikszentmihalyi, flow is completely focused motivation. It is a single-minded immersion and represents perhaps the ultimate experience in harnessing the emotions in the service of performing and learning. In flow, the emotions are not just contained and channeled, but positive, energized, and aligned with the task at hand. To be caught in the ennui of depression or the agitation of anxiety is to be barred from flow. The hallmark of flow is a feeling of spontaneous joy, even rapture, while performing a task[2] although flow is also described (below) as a deep focus on nothing but the activity – not even oneself or one's emotions.
Buzz terms for this or similar mental states include: to be in the moment, present, in the zone, on a roll, wired in, in the groove, on fire, in tune, centered, or singularly focused.''

 

As were taking about classical Japanese kata -

http://www.koryu.com/library/tnishioka1.html

I wont post the full essay here but a quick extract -

''One of the most profound expressions of rei lies in the interaction between uchidachi, the one who receives the technique, and shidachi, the one who does the technique. Unfortunately, even teachers often misunderstand the subtleties of uchidachi and shidachi in kata training. They fail to pass on to their students the difference in intent inherent in these two roles. Particularly in the classical traditions, the roles of uchidachi and shidachi are quite distinctive. Each has its own unique psychological viewpoint. It is essential that this distinct quality always be maintained. I believe that the difference in these two roles is the defining characteristic of kata training. Recently, I've come to the realization that it is not even worth training unless both partners properly understand this.

When an outsider watches kata, it appears that uchidachi loses and shidachi wins. This is intentional. But there's much more to it than that. Uchidachi must have the spirit of a nurturing parent. Uchidachi leads shidachi by providing a true attack; this allows shidachi to learn correct body displacement, combative distancing, proper spirit, and the perception of opportunity. A humble spirit is as necessary as correct technique for uchidachi. Deceit, arrogance, and a patronizing attitude must never be allowed in practice. Uchidachi's mission is vital. In the past, this role was only performed by senior practitioners who were capable of performing accurate technique and who possessed the right spirit and understanding of the role. Uchidachi must provide an example of clean, precise cutting lines and correct targeting, and must also convey focused intensity and an air of authority.

''

 

Mushin no shin, from what I understand from reading, is a more elegant description than "flow state".

 

No very scientific though, and as ''mushin'' means different things to different people lets stick with ''flow.''

 

"mind without mind" speaks more to my experience.

Personally, I'd say that to get flow, you need to cultivate mushin.

But I'm happy to stick to the consensus terminology

 

"You train to remember, then you train to forget" ... would that count as something like that?

Training so that you can remembers something and keep it in your mind, then you train hard so that you don't have to think about doing it and it comes naturally.

 

Wow, some definitions I did not think about before. Good stuff. Has opened my mind up a bit on the subject.

For example, I never really thought about the term "flow" in the sense of "being in a groove" or being in perfect alignment. I always was thinking flow as the absence of perceptible transitions, but it can mean so much more.

 

I think the two are related though. The absence of perceptible transitions can occur between someone's individual movements, but also between an outside stimulus and the response of that individual. And I think that's where alignment and "groove" come in. In a combative practice, the flow is the absence of perceptible transitions between attack-defense-counter, etc.

 

Something interlinked with flow I think is familiarity. Training to the point where you aren't surprised by a situation or event because you've experienced it before many times. It's hard to flow when each new development needs to be analysed and/or worked out before you know the best course of action.

 

Right on! Which is why so many high performers seem to recommend mental rehearsal (in addition, obviously, to the literal physical rehearsal).

 

Nicely put.

One thing that goes along with the concept of "perceptible transitions" is the state of the opponent(s) ability to perceive and act. One should always "stun or unbalance before conducting a take down or throw" can be said to be a principle behind hiding transitions. If I stun my opponent, while they are in a state of stun, I can transition into my next movement or technique. Or while my opponent is in a state of unbalance, I can transition into my next movement or technique. In both cases, the opponent's mind is not able to perceive these transitions as it is occupied by other things/concerns.

Of course, this is a "caveman" version of how to get things done. The transitions might still be visibly there, it is just that the opponent can't do much about them due to being stunned/unbalanced. This would not stop momentum... a stunned or unbalanced opponent's momentum could still run you over or cut you with a knife, etc.

I would suppose a master at something could take this further and keep the opponent constantly in a state of unbalance/stun or even more mysteriously, get the opponent to willingly give the technique to the "master", never realizing until it is too late, what has transpired.

 

I've said it many times... Experience and attitude are often the most important factors in determining how something turns out in a real situation.

To go along with familiarity to a self-protection situation, there comes a certain calmness and confidence. The opposite of this would be to panic. I guess one could say that the opposite of flow is panic.