Lately before training I've taken to spending 10-15 minutes watching YouTube videos of Sensei’s kata. Maybe a little obsessive of me I know, but in my defense my mini movie nights started mainly as a way of switching my brain from work/study mode into the 'zone' for training.

I remember coming across some interesting research a while back about the brain and motor learning. In short, the researchers found that by simply watching someone perform an action with the intention of mimicking them, we can activate neural pathways in the brain actually responsible for performing the behavior. Who would have thought you could actually improve your kata – or any technique for that matter – just by sitting at your desk?

I know there's no substitute for actual practice but it's good to know that on nights where you really can't make it, you may be able to trick that brain of yours into training without training. I think my kata at least, has changed slightly since I’ve been doing this – a small shift in timing and focus if nothing else.

To save myself the hassle of searching for the video clips each night I decided to put them all together. So, for those interested in joining me in my martial movie nights, here they are:

Gekisai Dai Ichi (撃砕第一)


Gekisai Dai Ni (撃砕第二)


Saifa (砕破)


Seiyunchin (制引戦)


Shisochin (四向戦)


Sanseru (三十六手)


Sepai (十八手)


Kururunfa (久留頓破)


Sesan (十三手)


Suparimpei (壱百零八)


Sanchin (三戦)


Tensho (転掌)

Firstly, wow. Thanks to everyone who took the time to write me an email or comment on my last post. I had no idea there were so many of you out there and have been genuinely stunned by the amount of positive feedback I’ve received. Some comments were so thoughtful and generous. I really don't know what to say. Part of me wants to print them out and stick them on my fridge :)

If anything, the whole experience has got me thinking a little about the power of praise – something until now I've certainly taken for granted.

If you think about it, praise really has to be one of the most fundamental human desires. The desire for status, wealth, fame and success all seem to have this common denominator – the goal of achieving recognition and respect from others.

I've heard some people say that we’re currently living in an overpraised generation where too much of the wrong kind of praise may actually be a bad thing. I recently read an interesting piece of research that found when children are praised for their efforts they are more likely to choose harder tests, are more resilient to failure and setbacks, and on later tests, their marks improve. By contrast, children praised for their intelligence or natural ability, chose easier tests when given the option, are distressed by failure and actually show declines in later tests of academic performance. It seems as though praising effort gives people a variable they can control which in turn makes setbacks and criticism more constructive, less frightening things.

In the context of training, it’s safe to say that honest and sincere encouragement goes a long way. For me, there are really few things more motivating than the words "getting better" grunted approvingly from Sensei. And, while praise beyond this is seldom directed at seniors, to the awkward and self-conscious beginner, a good sensei seems to find potential and strength even more readily than he/she finds fault.

It’s amazing to see what such simple words can do. And maybe it shouldn't just be up to seniors and teachers to praise their students. I remember how in awe of my seniors I was when I started training (and still am) – though I never dared tell them so. And yet, they probably battle with their inner critics as much as the rest of us.

I wonder why praise is such a hard thing to give when it's something we all like to receive? We certainly do have to be careful with how and whom we choose to praise. Have you been affected by praise? I'd love to hear your stories.

Update: I just came across an excellent article on American Traditional on the topic of praising one's superiors (or rather not). It's worth a read.

On the whole, I’ve received a lot of really positive feedback about Memoirs of a Grasshopper. But last night I received a particularly damning anonymous comment. The knowledge there is even one person out there who feels this way is enough to cause me to stop and question what I’m doing. In the spirit of openness – which is part of the reason I started this blog – I’d like to respond and hear other people’s views.

Here it is:

“Krista, I have read several of your blogs and cannot believe that you have the audacity to analyze and comment on your superiors as if they are your "friends". They are your teachers and mentors. You are there to learn from them; not pal around with them and write like you interviewed them for a 2 hour documentary that was broadcast on prime time tv. You write in your blogs like you are the only woman to have ever performed karate/martial arts or accomplish the things that are so ordinary. Granted, the things that you've done are good, but nothing that has been done before or that will be done after you. In the world of martial arts and karate, there is a such a thing as humility and trying to improve oneself. Write to loved ones about about your experiences, but "Memoirs of a Grasshopper" blogs is an insult to the true idea and meaning of the karate/martial arts mindset.” Anonymous.

Firstly, I have to agree there is nothing special about what I’m doing. I’ve been here less than a year, am barely a nidan, and obviously very junior in the honbu dojo. I am certainly not the first female to be doing this either. In fact, the current apartment I’m living in used to be occupied by a young woman who was a very strong and senior member of the Honbu dojo and one who’s far more accomplished than myself. When I leave, I have no doubt there will be many more after me too.

Memoirs of a Grasshopper has, for me, been first and foremost a personal journal and way of reflecting on my own experiences. The things I’m doing are certainly not out of the ordinary. However, I believe that each person has something unique to offer from his or her own perspective. Writing has opened my eyes to martial arts in way I never knew and has really enriched my time here studying Goju-Ryu.

While my situation isn’t special, I do believe it’s a lucky one – and one that many people don’t get the opportunity to experience. I’ve loved being able to share this with others while also learning from those more experienced than myself. I currently follow a number of martial arts blogs and believe this sharing is part of the wonder if the Internet. Perhaps the commenter assumes that by publishing online, the material is prefaced by some ‘claim of importance’ or ‘specialness’. People can blog about anything (and do!) – it’s part of what makes it so great.

Perhaps my greatest concern with the above comment is the suggestion that in making my posts public I have been in some way disrespectful of my superiors. I have nothing but absolute reverence and admiration for my seniors both in the honbu dojo, and within wider Goju Ryu and martial arts circles. Maybe it’s wrong of me to feel this way, but since moving to Naha I’ve come to consider many members of the Honbu dojo close friends. We often joke around outside of training and I feel lucky to know such amazing people who inspire me to always do my best.

Higaonna Sensei and others have encouraged me to write but I’ve always asked approval before using their names, comments, illustrations etc. That said, if the frank and open way I have described them or our trainings has given offence, I sincerely apologise. The very last thing I ever wanted was to trivialise how important these people are to me and how much I value their teachings.

So I’d now like to hear other people’s take on this. If any of my posts have been disrespectful or if indeed my entire blog is an insult to the ideals of traditional karate – something I do feel passionately about – I will happily remove all offending material, even the entire site. I would miss the opportunity Memoirs has given me to share my thoughts and connect with others, but I write first and foremost for myself, and can continue to do so offline...

Well, I passed my grading. The honbu crew also did the dojo proud and I felt privileged to be able to grade with them. And, as you can see, while I didn’t get away completely unscathed, if I hadn’t come home with a few bruises or a bit of blood I’d have probably been disappointed – little masochistic of me I know.

I won’t go into details but I can say that I did learn a couple of things from the nights effort...
1. In martial arts, the genetics of big noses has really done me no favours, and
2. Keep those hands up especially if you find yourself sparring a 4th-Dan.

I suppose beyond that, the pain-numbing power of adrenalin has once again come through and surprised me in the end. Seems like the morning after every grading I wake to embark on a little treasure hunt of discovery - small sprains, cuts and lumps that I could swear weren’t there the night before. If anything it makes you realize that in a real life scenario even if you land one of your strongest punches square in the face of your opponent, this may not be enough to slow them down - which is why it’s important to never stop and to always have a backup plan. Then again, on the flip side, it’s also nice to know that in the thick of it, even if you’re on the receiving end of one of those punches you can end up surprising yourself too.

Ok. So we all talk to ourselves. Some of you might be thinking, “talk to myself? I don’t talk to myself. Do I talk to myself?” It’s ok. We all do it.

As a martial artist I often find myself sparring with my inner critic. Sometimes we have a little light randori – she helps me identify my weaknesses and occasionally I surprise her with a few techniques. Other nights however, I get an absolute battering. I come away bloody, bruised and generally unenthused about returning to training.

With the grading only a few days away, these full contact kumite nights are becoming more common. And, while I know she thinks this kind of sparring is helpful, there’s only so much pummeling a girl can take.

By all means, a little self-criticism is healthy. It helps us improve and keeps our ego in check. But be warned. A good sparring partner corrects and encourages. They’re not negative, judgmental or mean.

Members of the dojo come and go but your internal training partner is one you’re stuck with for life. You may as well try and befriend them. They have the potential to be your best teacher or your most malicious opponent. And, on days when it’s just the two of you, this training buddy may just make or break your sessions.

I think sometimes the best athletes have relatively less internal commentary going on in their heads. Rather than questioning and critiquing every action, their inner coach just says “go” and encourages or observes quietly. If you look to martial artists like Higaonna-Sensei, it’s pretty clear that he and his inner instructor are a compatible pair. Perhaps this is what he’s saying when he tells us:

“Trust in yourself. I can. I cannot… no. Always, I can, I can”.

Simple advice. Like many of Sensei’s pearls this one really rings true for me - something I'm going to try and remember next time I catch myself getting a beating.

What do you make of your inner doppelganger? Are they a friend? Or a foe?

* Click here for Español.

I have to admit; on occasion in sparring I’ve been guilty of throwing my limbs in the general direction of my partner’s head or torso in hope that I’ll hit something that hurts. Sometimes I even end up aiming for the less vulnerable areas so I can afford to hit them harder. While we do have to look after our partners in kumete, this kind of ‘lazy’ sparring can develop bad habits. I don’t care how strong you are, if your punch lands square in your opponent’s pec or bicep, you’ll really need to start thinking about what to do next.

With the grading approaching I’ve found myself having to re-learn the Japanese pressure points (kyushu) that’d I’d once memorized for my shodan exam. It’s amazing how quickly one forgets these things. In any case, it’s reminded me of the importance of having a clear intent with our targets and to occasionally explore spots you might not always think about striking.

One of the things I love about traditional karate is training to attack these more vulnerable areas – the spots usually off limits in competitive martial arts. Groin strikes, chokes and eye gouging, biting, ripping at ears and pulling hair (sigh) – all that good stuff – these are the things self-defense is made of.

In training Sensei frequently encourages us to poke and prod ourselves and our partners to develop a feel for those hard to find places. Something tells me he could find them all blindfolded, but I’ve learned not to ask twice about the exact location of pressure points unless you’re after some first hand experience to ‘burn’ those spots into memory.