The Elements of Dae Ryun

“Dae ryun is not fighting, nor the conquering of
others. Rather dae ryun is an advanced, sublimating
form of training with mind, body and spirit together.
Training mind, body, and spirit with a partner is the
true definition of dae ryun.”

                                                           - Jae Chul Shin

 

While no discussion of a Black Belt Curriculum should be without a section on the concepts of dae ryun, it is important here to recognize that Grandmaster Shin has already written a comprehensive and definitive work on the subject.  To attempt to rewrite what he has already done is redundant, and this author shall not attempt to do so.  Instead, I direct anyone who is developing a martial arts curriculum, even one specifically geared towards black belts, to read Traditional Tang Soo Do Volume III: The Dae Ryun by Grandmaster Jae C. Shin.  Concepts and ideas I will only touch on here are presented in greater detail in this work, and it is one I cannot recommend strongly enough to instructors of Tang Soo Do.  With that said, I do feel that there are some Advanced and Basic Concepts that we can safely examine within the scope of this thesis.  For our purposes, this chapter is meant to be inclusive of all the various forms of dae ryun, including ja yu dae ryun (free sparring), il soo sik (one steps), and ho sin sul (self defense), but will focus primarily on the idea of dae ryun itself, rather than the techniques which comprise it.

Step 1: Identify an Advanced Concept

            While we have established in our previous chapter that falling is fighting, dae ryun most assuredly is not. This may seem counterintuitive, and to some readers may even be viewed as false or contradictory.  The truth is, that while the practice of dae ryun will surely provide one with the skills needed to fight, fighting itself is not dae ryun.  Whereas the goal of a fight is to win, by escape or by domination of the opponent, the goal of dae ryun is a free exchange of technique between partners.  In a fight, the welfare and success of one’s adversary is secondary to one’s goal.  In dae ryun, the welfare and successes of one’s partner are of paramount importance, for free exchange cannot exist without them.  Dae Ryun is a process by which we come to know ourselves, and by which we can learn to know others. In the movie The Matrix Reloaded, the character Seraph says, “You do not truly know someone until you fight them.”  I maintain that this is true, if we phrase it slightly differently: “You do not truly know someone until you engage in dae ryun with them.”  This is actually a statement that is derivative of Sun Tzu’s classic work, Sun Tzu Bing Fa, or at is commonly known to the English-speaking world, The Art of War.  Sun Tzu said:

Know yourself and know your enemy.

You will be safe in every battle.

You may know yourself but know the enemy.

You will then lose one battle for every one you win.

You may not know yourself or the enemy.

You will then lose every battle.[i]

While dae ryun is not truly a battle, and one’s partner is not an enemy, we can nonetheless use these ideas to extrapolate our Advanced Concept:

Dae ryun is a path towards truly knowing oneself, truly knowing others, and allowing others to truly know you.

Step 2: Uncover Basic Concepts

            If we accept this premise as our Advanced Concept, how can we even begin to deconstruct it to the point at which it becomes a drill for our black belts?  The journey towards knowing oneself is an incredibly difficult concept, even in the attempt to express. It is the basis for many branches of philosophy and religion, and the answers cannot be found by merely engaging in a martial arts exercise, can they?  I do not pretend that I can fully answer that question.  I do maintain that dae ryun can provide one path towards self-knowledge.  It is up to the instructor to show students the path.  It is ultimately their own decision whether or not they choose to walk it. Rather than attempting to explain how dae ryun leads to ultimate knowledge of the self and others, then, we will instead examine how instructors can reveal the path.

            If we accept that dae ryun provides a way to help us find this path, we must start by examining ourselves.  No one would deny that people come in various types, whether this is physical differences, gender differences, or differences in personality and personal ideology.  If dae ryun helps all of these different types of people to know themselves and each other, then we can begin to extrapolate our first Basic Concept:

There are different types of dae ryun that correspond to different types of people.

            Our exact method for clarifying and classifying these different types of dae ryun does not matter, nor do the labels used.  Classifying them in some way is important though, in order to help our students towards realization of the Advanced Concept, even if we go into this process knowing that the classifications we use are, ultimately, artificial. I suggest that each instructor find a classification system that works best for him or her.  Here we will classify the different types of dae ryun into four elemental styles.  This classification system uses the classical Greek elements of Earth, Fire, Water, and Air, rather the five classical Asian elements, but the Asian elements could be used as well. This system is not a new one, and most likely traces its roots to Miyamoto Musashi’s classic text, A Book of Five Rings, in which the first four rings match the Greek elements.  However, it was probably the animated television series, Avatar: The Last Airbender, which best introduced most of the modern western world to this idea.  In doing so, it helps instructors convey some very difficult ideas to a younger generation of black belts.  The different styles of dae ryun, then, are:

Earth

 

Earth is mostly patient, solid, rooted, and defensive. When it does attack, it waits for the right opportunity, then attempts to land one massive strike with maximum speed, force, and effect. When one thinks of Earth as a style of dae ryun, one must envision a rock.  Ideally, trying to attack someone using this style should be like trying to hit a rock with one’s bare hands. The defender merely absorbs the energy directed at him, while the attacker is more likely to injure himself than he is to affect the rock-like defender.  When Earth is used as a form of attack, the defender should, ideally, feel as if he is trying to withstand the force of a landslide.  Earth’s attacks are not easy to predict, as they come infrequently, and are difficult to avoid because they come with great speed and intensity.

Fire

Fire is mostly quick, aggressive, unrelenting, and offensive.  Fire rarely takes a defensive position, but when it does, it is not in the classic sense.  While Fire may block or evade, it is always looking for the next opportunity to attack.  When one thinks of Fire as a style of dae ryun, one must envision, obviously, flame.  Ideally, when one attempts to attack Fire, one gets burned.  The attack itself is of little concern to the defender who uses Fire, and he will attempt to strike the attacker multiple times in response.  When Fire is used as a form of attack, which is almost always, it relies on an aggregate effect, rather than attempting to land one specific strike.  Fire’s attacks may be more predictable than other styles in some ways, but they are so quick and constant that they will often find their intended target anyway.

Water

Water is mostly adaptable, flowing, changing, and balanced in terms of offensive and defensive techniques.  When one thinks of Water as a style of dae ryun, one must envision water in all its forms, whether filling a container, surrounding a sinking object, falling from the sky or pounding the shoreline.  It is both the raindrop and the storm; both the puddle and the tsunami.  When one attacks Water, one should have the sensation of being surrounded and immobilized, a feeling akin to floating, sinking, or drowning, depending on the intent of the Water stylist.  When attacked by Water, one may be pelted by a thousand raindrops, or assaulted by one enormous wave.  Water’s attacks are always changing in number, intensity and focus. Bruce Lee was a proponent of this style, and his quote regarding this became famous: “Be water, my friend.”[ii]

  

Air

Air is mostly evasive, intangible, elusive, and enveloping.  While it is often mistakenly classified as almost purely defensive, it is actually a relatively balanced style in terms of offense and defense.  When one thinks of Air as a style of dae ryun, one should envision not only the air we breathe and pass through every day, but also the hurricane and the tornado.  When one attacks Air, one should feel as if the defender is not even there; that their attacks are never able to reach their targets, and that attack itself is useless.  When air attacks, it attacks quickly, and may be either penetrating and forceful or enveloping and neutralizing. 

            Undoubtedly, most people will identify with one style more than the other three.  Instructors should encourage students to explore this, but should actively encourage more advanced students to try using all styles, rather than limiting themselves to one. In the end, they begin to learn that while they are reliant on one style, pieces of the others will be present as well.  They will learn that:

While people may predominantly use one style of dae ryun, all styles are always present.

Step 3: Understand, Apply & Improvise

            When they grasp for Understanding, students are initially trying to find one style that best suits them as individuals.  Once this style is found, they will be encouraged to explore other styles as well.  They will begin to see that they actually engage in a blend of all styles at some point, and that no style can truly be separated from the others.  In other words, “it’s all the same.”   When this level of Understanding is reached, they will begin to identify the styles of dae ryun that fit others’ personalities, body types, and ideologies.  In so doing, they will begin to know others even before engaging in dae ryun with them, and will be able to form certain expectations when they do.  When they can match a predominant style with a particular body type, combined with personality traits, they will begin to understand why certain techniques work better form them than others, and will begin to identify how to use one style in both opposition and complement to another.

            As students learn to identify these styles in themselves and others, they must also learn to effectively use them in dae ryun.  They will learn which styles are best used to counter others, and in this process, will begin to adapt their own style based on the actions of their partners.  This is Application.  When students can quickly identify another’s style, know what works to counter that style, and know intuitively how to shift from one style to another, they are starting to move from Application towards Improvisation. 

            At the Improvisation stage, students should not only know when to shift from one style to another, but should also attempt to create new styles by combining the characteristic features of two or more styles.  Thus they will uncover new concepts, and will move closer towards synthesis, the Ideal Concept, and nature.  For example, a student may attempt to combine Earth and Fire and create a new style known as Lava.  Combining Earth and Water may result in Mud, or Quicksand.  Combining Earth and Air will create Dust, or Sandstorm.  Fire and Water will create Steam.  Fire and Air will create Smoke.  Air and Water will create Mist, or Storm.[iii]  Combining three or more elements will continue to yield new styles and new concepts with new characteristics, and combining all elements together into a cohesive union will perhaps yield Spirit, which is sometimes identified as Musashi’s fifth ring, and the fifth element in Japanese culture, although the fifth ring is just as often translated as the Void, or even as Nothing.  Since synthesis cannot yield nothing, I prefer the notion of Spirit, but in truth, I feel that:

 The union of all styles results in the Ideal style of dae ryun: Nature.

Dae Ryun: Conclusions

            While the casual reader may feel that the above analysis is meant to cover only ja yu dae ryun, or free sparring, it is actually meant to encompass all forms of dae ryun, including semi-free sparring, one-step, two-step, and three-step sparring (pre-arranged sparring), group sparring, tournament sparring, and ho sin sul (self defense).  For a more in depth discussion of each of these classifications, refer to Traditional Tang Soo Do Volume III: The Dae Ryun, by Grandmaster Jae Chul Shin, pages 5-7.  Ultimately, while the elemental classifications and their resultant combinations and syntheses work for me as an instructor, it is up to every individual instructor to identify their own system of classification and instruction. It is not the classifications themselves that matter, but the concepts:

1.      Dae ryun is a path towards truly knowing oneself, truly knowing others, and allowing others to truly know you.

2.      There are different types of dae ryun that correspond to different types of people.

3.      While people may predominantly use one style of dae ryun, all styles are always present.

4.      The union of all styles results in the Ideal style of dae ryun: Nature.


Kick. Punch. Easy Stuff.

---

[i] Sun-tzu. (6^th cent. BC) [Sun Tzu Bing Fa, English] The Art of War Plus The Ancient Chinese Revealed Seattle, WA: translated by Gary Gagliardi, p.41

[ii] http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Bruce_Lee

[iii] http://spoken-khatru.blogspot.com/2011/05/earth-air-water-fire.html, 

    http://runescape.wikia.com/wiki/Combination_rune

Legacy

          When we look to a dictionary, we will most often see the word legacy defined as that which is passed down or left behind by an ancestor after they have died.  After the passing of Grandmaster Jae Chul Shin earlier this year, I have struggled with what I might put down in words regarding this great man and great leader of men and women.  It seems only fitting that I should in some way discuss his legacy.  If we merely look at this in terms of the dictionary definition, there is certainly more than enough to discuss.  He passed down to us a tradition, an art, and an Association that have each shaped many of us into the people we are today.  This is not what I wish to talk about here, though.  To do this implies that his legacy is something finite, and I simply do not believe that to be the case.  The legacy of a martial artist, and to an extent that of any great teacher, is far more.  It is that part of the person that goes on to further affect the lives of others, and grows to become something more.  In this way, Grandmaster Shin's legacy is the farthest thing possible from a finite set of "things" or "ideas."  It is instead an ongoing part of all his students' lives, and by extension, part of their students' lives as well.

      Rather than get into a long dissertation on everything our Grandmaster has left us, then, I would prefer to relate a few short stories that, when viewed together, help paint a picture of what I feel legacy truly is.  First, I remember on many occasions hearing my instructor tell us that he does not teach students to become black belts; that instead he teaches students to become teachers.  This is the true ultimate goal of a true master, and it is something that has stuck with me for my entire life.  Without teaching others how to pass on the art we love, and without going a step further and instilling within them a burning desire to teach others, there is no one to help it grow through the coming years; there is no legacy.

     For me, the desire to teach was always there, but that didn't mean it was easy.  I found numerous roadblocks on my path to becoming a studio owner, and in the end, I had to move over 300 miles from my hometown in order to do it, but it proved to be the best decision I could have made.  In the same year that my wife and I opened our studio, I was invited to my first Masters' Clinic,  and it was there that I began my testing process for Master Instructor rank.  I clearly remember after the test being asked the following question: "What do you view your role in the World Tang Soo Do Association to be?"  I was fortunate enough to be towards the middle of the testing group, and therefore had some time to think about my answer.  I answered by saying that my role as a studio owner and future Master instructor was to serve as an ambassador of the art; to bring Tang Soo Do into new areas of our region, to develop instructors who would one day open their own studios, and to grow our region, our Association, and our art.  I am very proud to say that I have achieved some of that goal. My wife and I each now operate as studio owners, and we run a commercial studio as well as a thriving YMCA martial arts program.  In this way the legacy left to us continues to grow.

     Just owning and operating a studio, or even co-owning and operating two studios is not enough to truly embrace the idea of our Grandmaster's legacy, though. We must produce the teachers of a new generation, and this year I have had the pleasure to see our first student, along with his own wife and daughter, move on to start a new studio of their own.  Recently, My wife and I were invited to attend the first belt test being held at this studio, and it was there that I was able to watch a group of nine very determined white belts take a critical step forward on their own journeys in Tang Soo Do.  It brought me back in time, to a small group that I had prepared to test in front of my own instructor, and I had to smile at the fact that it was now a student who tested as a white belt on that day ten years ago who had now prepared his own students to test in front of me.  It was sobering experience, but one I'll not soon forget.  It helped me realize that Grandmaster Shin's legacy is not something he left behind, but is instead something that moves forward, and grows to become stronger.  His legacy is in all of us, and in how each member studio of our organization is a family group, while our Association is one large extended family.

       Nothing makes this more clear to me than remembering the last conversation I had with Grandmaster Shin.  I had called him on the telephone to discuss some issues for an upcoming Board of Directors meeting, but when we had finished with the business of the day, there were only two things he wanted to discuss.  The first of these was how my studio was doing, not because it was simply one of those questions he was "supposed to ask", but instead because he actually wanted to know, and truly cared about the answer.  I firmly believe that he viewed each studio owner as a surrogate child of sorts, and the members of those studios as surrogate grandchildren.  So, perhaps it should come as no surprise that what he was truly and genuinely excited to talk about was that he had heard the news that one of my students was opening a new studio.  He wanted to know all about it, and was both happy and excited to discuss this new development, just as if it were the birth of a new child. He talked with me about the instructor and his family, the new studio's location, and gave his fervent wishes for its long-term success. He cared not just about the art and its continuation, but about the people charged with that continuation as well. His legacy does go on, will continue to go on, and will not only grow, but will thrive, as long as I and my fellow studio owners never forget that we are not merely his "children", but that we are brothers, sisters, parents, and grandparents as well, forever charged with the responsibility of nurturing our family and helping it become all he always envisioned it to be.

Kick. Punch. Easy Stuff.

Who Am I?

I am not Spock...

          Given that you are reading this blog, you have at least enough technical knowledge to access the internet, so I'm going to assume that you probably have at least some inkling of who Spock is.  If not, feel free to refresh your education on this matter here.  Spock, while fictional, is someone to whom I have been compared on more than one occasion.   While other kids in high school were being voted most likely to succeed, or most likely to become famous, I pretty sure I was being labeled as most likely to become First Officer on the Starship Enterprise, and no, I'm not referring to this guy.  Many people view me as stoic, or analytical, and some even may say cold.  The truth is, while I may present myself this way professionally, these words really don't define me.  The truth is, I'm just quiet, and perhaps a bit shy.            I've never felt the need to fill up perfectly good silence with the sound of my own voice, and I don't particularly enjoy it when other people do.  In my own time, I prefer to be alone more often than not.  This isn't because I don't like people, nor that I in any way feel superior to others.  I simply enjoy solitude.  At some point this trait has, understandably perhaps, been misinterpreted, and I have been mislabeled and wrongly identified as being very Spock-like.

          In actuality, I'm simply not that guy. Spock, above all, was devoted to one guiding principal, and prized one thing above all: logic. Ask anyone who knows me well, and they'll tell you: logic has never been my guide. It's not logical to choose your college destination based solely on which one offers you the best martial arts training opportunity. Choosing to take that a step further and abandoning a relatively stable and promising career in the software development industry in order to become a martial arts instructor is definitely not something Spock would do.  In fact, I think he would strongly disapprove.  I am not Spock.  I'd have to say that every major decision I've made in my life has been guided by emotion, not logic.  I teach martial arts because I have  visceral, emotional connection to Tang Soo Do.  So...I'm not Spock - Who am I?

          Before answering that, let me explain that I've recently watched the entirety of the television series "Heroes".  You know, that show everyone fell in love with back in 2006, then promptly forgot about after the first season?  Well, I finally got around to watching the whole series, and I realized, over time, that the show wasn't really about the so-called "heroes" at all.  We don't relate to heroes all that well.  Even when they're flawed, we know that nine times out of ten they'll overcome that flaw.  We can't relate to the perfect.  We are drawn to the imperfect; to the antihero.  Upon reflection on this concept, I came to realize something.

I am Sylar.  

          Well, you know, minus the whole psychotic serial killer thing.  Sylar was the "villain" of the series, but in the end he sought only redemption from his past mistakes.  In this way, I think we're all a little bit like Sylar, and this is why I can relate to him, but it isn't really why I say I am Sylar.

          Sylar possessed only one "super power" that was truly his own: he was able to see how things worked.  I won't go into the gory details, but let's just say he was quite literally able to get into the heads of others in order to see what "made them tick."  In so doing,  Sylar was able to appropriate the powers and abilities of others, using them as if they were his own.  It occurs to me that this is something I've been trying to do for several years now.

          Ask yourself some questions: When you attend a particular class or seminar, what do you do?  What  do you try to get out of it?  What is your role?   As a student, you may say that it is your job pay attention and learn.  You'd be correct.  What is it that you are trying to learn, though?  To what, specifically, are you paying attention?  Most would answer the material being presented is what they should try to learn.  Again, this is a correct answer, but not a complete one.

          As an instructor, I want to not only get a feel for and a grasp of the presented material, but also for how that said material is being presented.  I don't just want to be able to do want is being presented; I want to be able to teach it.  To me, being able to acquire the skill itself is not enough.  I want to decipher the methodologies, language, and even the motivations of the instructor.  In essence, I want to get into the instructor's head and steal his or her powers.

          To some, this may seem a bit "overly ambitious", and I'd be lying if I said I always succeed.  As the saying goes, though, "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again."  I will often attend the same seminar multiple times until I feel that I've uncovered at least the basic concepts of how it works; until I feel some ability to pass these skills on to others.  

          In the end, it is far, far easier to do a thing than it is to teach that thing to another.  However, once it has been successfully taught, it resides within more than one mind, and it will be that much easier to access in the future.  Should I lose my grasp on a particular idea or skill, I can now delve into the minds of others in order to get it back.  After all, I am not Spock...I am Sylar.  Although, considering both were played quite admirably by the same guy...perhaps I'm Spock as well.

Kick. Punch.  Easy Stuff.