Refuge

Something a friend said to me on the mat got me thinking.

Martial arts are potentially very dangerous. Why don’t more people get hurt? The armbars and chokes in Jiu-Jitsu; the kicks and punches of Karate. Why don’t people get hurt? They have to.

It’s really a matter of control.

Half is physical control. It is knowing exactly where each technique would cause damage, and the performing it just short of destruction.

An armbar rapidly applied could snap the limb before the person applying it has even completed the move. It is knowing how to hold the arm so as to not damage one’s partner. It is the punch that could incapacitate, thrown with frightening speed that lands almost exactly on the target’s skin. It is practised enough that it will land with perfect consistency.

The other half of the control is a mix of emotional and mental.

One must keep the dojo as a trusted safe place. Every person there must be confident that they can trust every one else.

But what if somebody hauls some baggage along with them from outside? Marriage issues, work troubles, or any of a myriad of other issues could cause a dangerous problem.

I haven’t seen this ever at Karate.

There are a number of rituals installed to separate the world of Karate from the world outside.

It is stressed that the dojo is a sacred place, even if it’s in a school gym. Karateka bow face into the dojo and bow whenever they enter or leave. Most instructors let beginners know that they are expected to leave the outside world outside, and the Karate world inside.

There is a class line-up, and a short ceremony at both the beginning and end of class. The structure doesn’t really matter all that much. The purpose is to give the students an official time to know when they are in training, and when they are not. It is a time to center oneself.

Sometimes I’ve been aware of Karateka who’ve been going through significant emotional upset in their outside lives. I’ve never seen it reflected on the floor.

I’ve many such friends who say that when they are at Karate, they are able to leave their problems outside. For them it becomes a refuge.

I’ve never needed such a refuge, but I think I know exactly what they mean.

A trusted safe place.

Full of violent technique.