Ultimately, I think if will, but there’s that period of adjustment I have to go through first. I knew this would happen. At the end of 2011, you’ll remember that I said goodbye to the desk job in order to focus, full time, on my martial arts school. As I near the end of the first month, I’m realizing just how much work I have to do in order to fully realize that dream. I used to joke with a former instructor of mine during long talks that he and I taught for different reasons. With a smile, I’d tell him that he taught because he had to put bread on the table, and I taught simply because I loved it. Now, years later, I too decided to make my livelihood teaching.

….. but this was not without a considerable amount of thought.

2008 – 2011 have quite literally been spent reaffirming that this is what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. This is my way of giving back to the world. Tang Soo Do is what I do. I had to establish that within myself before taking this plunge. I now know how important if is to explore and confirm that first in order to be true to yourself and your practice. As scary as it was to do so, I know if was the right decision when I made it.

So, where have I been? Re-establishing myself. I’ve closed one chapter and started another. I’ve been figuring out my new schedule, learning more about the business of running a successful school (a necessary evil), and laying some firm groundwork as Texas Coast Karate evolves. It makes for quite a busy adventure. As a matter of fact, the annoying of work that goes into doing it right is worthy of yet another subject topic in this blog. Just one more aspect of the journey, y’know…..

I’ve also slightly broadened the scope of things that I have to offer to give back to the world. This first month as a full time instructor, I took some time out of my own schedule to become Reiki 1 & 2 certified in the Usui tradition. I’ve always been of the opinion that a trained marital artist should also have the ability to heal in at least some degree, so I sought out an avenue to do so. It has, thus far, been an eye opening experience to say the least; and I hope to chronicle that experience here as well.

Needless to say, I’ve been anything but idle since my last post; and there are no signs of slowing down anytime soon. There are still blog topics I want to attack, and experiences I want to share with the readers of this blog. It’s gonna be a good year folks, so hang on.

(Master) Wayne Boozer

It wasn’t a big tournament by any shape of the word, but it was a definite good time.  In retrospect, as 6th Dan Master Rick Garwood’s first time hosting, I think the size was just right, and the support to make it a success came in droves, from his own students the other ITF school local to the area to those of us who came from various parts of Houston & Austin to help and/or compete.

I often joke with my students and friends that compared to spending a day as a judge & referee, competing is easy.  It’s a continuous day of paying close attention, sending the proper message to all watching, and making sure that the competitors that step into your ring all have a good time. If you slack off, you’re going to ruin someone’s day; and if you’d been chosen to assist with this duty, then you never want that to happen.  Judging and refereeing is a long, arduous task, that, at the end of the day, can be extremely rewarding when the parents walk up and shake your hand, regardless of how their child placed.

Now honestly, you have to experience a few ‘bad” tournaments in order to really appreciate the good ones.  I’ve been to my share of bad ones.  Slack postures, biased judging, & little to no control in sparring pervade .  A “bad call” results in the competitor, the parent, or (seriously) the instructor getting into the judge’s face about it.  Experiences like this make people avoid the tournament circuit altogether, and quite frankly, I can’t say that I blame them.  I’ve cautioned my students on more than one occasion to never go into a tournament with expectations of leaving with the top prize; but instead, go with the intention of doing your best.  That way, even what you may perceive as a “bad call” won’t hurt your feelings.  A good tournament really starts with the proper attitude from the competitors.  Having well-trained and experienced judging is just the icing on the cake.

That brings me to my next point, actually…..that is, namely, being a well-trained judge.  My instructor at the time started priming me for judging duties back when I made the rank of 1st Dan, and I’m still working on it.  As a matter of fact, it’s a Federation standard in the ITF that all Dans over the age of 18 spend time certifying and re-certifying in order to uphold the federation standards.  Once you know what’s expected, you’ve actually got to spend time doing it in order to gain confidence in carrying out the task.  In other words, if you get certified, don’t just sit on it.  Get out there and spend time as a judge!

Now, once I reached the rank of master (4th Dan), I was bumped up to senior judge/center referee status.  That, since I started doing it, has been an exhausting adventure; and if you’ve ever seen me playing center ring referee, you know what I mean.  Somehow I manage to consistently get the very young children, who always border on the edge of nervous-to-tears and bounce-off-the-walls excitement.  I find that quelling either one of these extremes takes a lot of finesse and is really more art than science.  I say exhausting because I run a ring of kids the same way I run my classes: by having more energy than all of them.  I also spend a lot of time bringing things down to their level by talking to them while on my knees and giving constant smiles of encouragement.  Above all else, the kids are there to have fun, make friends and learn good sportsmanship.  Part of my job is to make sure that those aspects remain at the forefront at all times, while also managing a professional demeanor for the parents watching.

I’ve seen what the opposite impression can do.  It’s ugly.

When you ask me about my approach to judging and refereeing, two influences come to mind.  The first is Master Mike McGee from Zachary, LA.  Still one of my “big brothers” in the federation, I pattern my approach to teaching children largely after him.  If you’ve ever seen him relate to kids, you’ll know exactly what I mean by it too.  If this man walks into a room full a children, then the children become his immediate and his only priority.  For that reason, they flock to him.  I picked up on this aspect of his personality when I met him long ago, and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, y’know…..

The other influence is Master John Nigro, who teaches out of the Pittsburgh area.  Sa Bom Nim Nigro, who I usually only see at the big ITF events, has shown me over the years that it’s okay to have a big personality when running a ring.  This is especially true when you have children because they respond to it well.  If you ever go to an ITF tournament that’s being attended by Master Nigro, I guarantee you can hear him shouting commands as senior judge from the other side of the room.  It gets attention….everyone’s attention.  I saw that, I liked it, and I started doing it.

So, hopefully, if you watch me at a tournament, you’ll see a little bit of Master Nigro and a little bit of Master McGee.  That’s my way of paying homage to two influences.  Still, I’m finding that over time, I’m learning how to make it my own.

My point is folks, if you’re a black belt, and you get pulled for judging duties, then you’re going to have a direct part in making or breaking that tournament.  Pay attention to your seniors and watch their dynamics, especially when they’re dealing with the various age groups, and learn from them.  Get out there with at least as much enthusiasm as you’d have if you were competing, and help make the event someone’s good experience.

Master Wayne Boozer

I love that analogy.

As a matter of fact, I spend a lot of time dwelling on that statement since I read it.  Since then, and in my limited experience in martial arts, I’ve found that in many cases, we tend to shut our eyes to the other “mountains” out there as we climb higher and higher on our own.  In fact, sometimes people aren’t even aware that other mountains even exist.  It’s all too easy to fall into the “ours is the only way” of thinking.  That gets perpetuated a lot in martial arts schools.

Climb your mountain, martial artist.  Climb it to its peak; but know that there are other mountains out there that also have answers.  Open your mind, open your eyes.

(Master) Wayne Boozer

Wow.  I actually did it.

I often replay to myself a conversation with a former instructor of mine.  He and I had become quite friends while our journeys were together, and we’d often have long discussions about out respective paths in martial arts.  I remember that I once told him that as a family man, he taught because he had to put bread on the table for his wife & kids, and I taught (part-time) simply because I loved it.  This was almost a running joke between the two of us for many years.

I moved back to Houston, Texas in December of 2007, just 3 scant months after testing for 4th Dan.  As I had chosen to move to a southern part of the city, I was very much without a place to train, and resigned myself to self-maintenance when time allowed as I concentrated on my day-time job more.  Still, the words of Choong Jae Nim CS Kim continued to ring in my ears: don’t stop training.  I trained alone for more than a year.

Getting this changed a lot of things....but it would be another couple of years before I realized just how those changes would affect me.

Solo training, mind you, takes an incredible amount of self-discipline.  I can say that now with conviction because I’ve done it.  Just ask my wife how many times I would get up ahead of the rest of the family in order to trek out to the local high-school track and go through the material that I’d spent the past 14+ years trying to perfect.  One of the key aspects of martial arts training is that it comes with its own support group (that’s a quote from one of my students).  The camaraderie is one of the things that keeps you coming back to class.  While I missed that aspect terribly during my “hiatus”, the need to continue training had actually outgrown it, and I knew I had to keep going.  Conversations with Grandmaster CS Kim had led me to believe that as a newly-promoted master, I had a responsibility to continue training.

Things changed in the summer of 2009 when someone walked up to me at the track and asked about the exercises I was doing.  Before I knew it, a conversation had started about Tang Soo Do, resulting in my first student, who trained for free simply because I needed to keep my instructor’s skills sharp.  Less than a month later, through a mutual friend, I was introduced to my second student.  We immediately made friends and she started training with me as well, providing space to practice at her place of business.  Finally, that avenue to once again express myself as in instructor had returned.

Over that past two years, I’ve seen this thing grow from what was largely just a small club to a genuine school of martial arts.  It’s a journey that hasn’t been without sacrifice.  In 2010, I was returned to shift work at the day job, which meant 12 hour days at work, which would sometimes be followed by teaching at the school afterwards.  It would have been easy to put the school on hiatus until I figured this out.  I decided to train through it instead.  Looking back, I’ve almost gotten used to 17 hour days…..

Now here I sit, on the threshold of joining the ranks of many of my contemporaries, and finally ready to dedicate myself full-time to the way I give back to the world: teaching Traditional Tang Soo Do.  Once again, I return to that conversation I had with my instructor so many years ago….and I can smile about it.  I have often repeated that Choong Jae Nim once told me to “teach from the heart and the students will come to you”.  I think I’m finally starting to figure out what that means.  Express your love of teaching first….and it’s what you really want to do, then the universe will conspire to make things happen for you.

A pic from outside our new home in 2011.....I didn't create Texas Coast Karate. It just happened.

….well, things are happening.  Texas Coast Karate opens its doors full time in January, 2012.  Let’s see how far I can take this thing……

(Master) Wayne Boozer

That particular year, at the tail end of training, I can recall being led outside the gymnasium which was our home for the day to an uphill run to a field that was perhaps a quarter-mile from the Boyce Campus gymnasium in Monroeville.  Once there, Grandmaster Kim led us through 2 separate exercises that were designed to build “internal strength”.  He termed them as “Neh Gung”.

At the time I’m writing this blog post, I have to admit that my knowledge of the concept of Neh Gung is still infantile at best.  I’m still finding material to read to develop a better understanding of it.  Little to no mention of Neh Gung is made in the ITF textbook Authentic Tang Soo Do, and my knowledge of techniques involved in developing it are presently limited to what I was taught at the 2009 seminar, save for a couple of things I’ve learned from random reads in books dealing largely with other subjects.  Still, the interest remains, hence this post.

In the original Tang Soo Do Soo Bahk Do text, Grandmaster Hwang Kee makes mention of the concept of Neh Gung (or Nae Kong) as a “method of training the inner organs of the body”.  He further explains that it’s part of kong bup training.  Unfortunately, the text does not give a definition for kong bup!  Nevertheless, if you do a little digging, “kong bup” (also spelled gwongbeop) is the term for “fist-fighting method”.  The term is first referenced in the muyedobotongji, which is Korea’s earliest referenced martial arts publication (and a subject actually deserving of its own blog article one day).  Supposedly, part of the Korean text is steeped in hand to hand combat methods derived from Shaolin Temple fighting arts.  Per Grandmaster Hwang Kee’s explanation, there are both internal and external kong bup training methods.  So exactly what are the internal training methods, and why even do them to begin with?  Thus, my search begins……

If you practice Korean martial arts & study their respective histories, do you have a version of this book? If you don't, why not?

The idea of the unwavering warrior in the face of adversity permeates across all cultures, and it has a big hand in the concept of “budo” (warrior spirit) popularized largely by martial arts of Asian descent.  That idea is centered around control of the self.  In martial arts, to put it bluntly, having an uncontrolled nature is seen as “bad form”.  Hence, there is an inherent stress on controlling the emotions in many traditionally oriented classes.  To understand how something like Neh Gung fits into all this, you sort of have to understand a bit about the Asian concept of duality and the interwoven relationship between all things.  To put things in layman terms, what happens on the inside affects what happens on the outside, and vice-versa.  Probably the most easily referenced example here is the Japanese samurai warrior and the practice of Zen meditation.  I’m not going to reference any one particular source because I’ve read this from too many different ones; but the Samurai are said to have sought after the ability to keenly turn on the state of mushin or “no mind” before going into battle.  You can define mushin as the ability to turn off all emotion, all outward stressors and envelop yourself in achieving one goal.  For the samurai, that goal was cutting down the enemy.

Now, in modern society, there’s no enemy to cut down (usually); but the concept of developing this ability is still an extremely useful life-tool, both in the training hall and out in the world.  First of all, you have to understand at least a little about Chinese medicine (and I’m a big aficionado).  Among other things, Chinese medicine tends to follow the concept that physical condition affects spirit and vice versa, much more so than we do here in the west.  For that reason, someone properly schooled in it may prescribe something for the spirit when there is a particular physical ailment of concern.  Along those same lines, there are also a number of physical exercises that one can employ to strengthen the internal organs, which in-turn directly affect the spirit.  Ever hear of the Chinese term “Chi Kung”?  Well, there’s a reason why it sounds a heck of a lot like Neh Gung.  I’m pretty sure the concepts are derived from the same source.

The practice of Chi Kung, or qigong is so extensive in China and worldwide that there are entire arts dedicated to it.  Defined (and I’m quoting a disputed Wikipedia article here, so be careful), it’s collectively said to be “methods of cultivation and manipulation of this life energy…..[used as]  an important component in enhancing martial abilities“.  Many of the principles behind quigong are extensive versions of the Neh Gung concepts touched upon in Tang Soo Do.  I’m guessing that it can be theorized that Grandmaster Hwang Kee wished, in his pursuit of an all-inclusive martial art, to include a series of exercises not only to promote a balanced psyche, but also good health as well.  That being said, the practice of Neh Gung was included in the basic tenets of the first Tang Soo Do Soo Bahk Do text.  Still, that theory of mine is without base, and just deductive reasoning on my part.  Still, when you get an opportunity, look up Quigong exercises on YouTube.  You’ll find some neat stuff.

Dr. Yang, Jwing-Ming performs Quigong exercises - in one of its purest forms.

Interestingly enough, I find that Choong Jae Nim Kim spends more and more time on stuff like this as the years go by, and historically speaking, a lot of aging masters tend to exercise more time in studying the subtle, internal aspects of martial arts as time goes by.  I can’t help but wonder if that’s what I’m witnessing in my own senior master of Tang Soo Do.  The afternoon in Monroeville that I referenced at the beginning of this blog article, I learned two separate techniques for Neh Gung practice, but I have yet to find them in another realm.  The challenge for me now is to find if the exercises learned that day are referenced in other arts that include this practice; which basically means I’ve got some extensive Neh Gung research of my own to do (more-so than is worthy for just one blog article on the subject).

While the Korean Neh Gung outwardly appears to be a derivative of the Chinese Quigong, it still makes an attempt at achieving balance through breathing and/or body motion.  it’s just less complex than the martial arts that seem to be built around the concept.  That, quite honestly, keeps me intrigued.  Since really getting deeply involved in martial arts at age 19, I’ve also become a fan of meditation, which I largely use to quiet my mind.  This, of course, assists me greatly when I need to dedicate myself fully to a task.  Unfortunately, due to the varying responsibilities of my daily life, it’s not always possible for me to find a quiet corner and concentrate on breathing properly.  Here is where Neh Gung practice normally comes into play for me.  In practice, I typically do 1-3 exercises.  Two are from my lessons learned from Grandmaster Kim himself.  The other I borrow from The book Hapkido authored by Master Choe Hui Son.  In doing so, I get an opportunity to work on concentrating my whole being on just strengthening the spirit, remembering to breathe properly, and slowing myself down.  While this may not be the intended purpose, it appears to work well for me, when the need is there and I don’t have time to pull out the ‘ol meditation cushion and sit for a spell.  A typical Neh Gung session will last anywhere from 5 – 7 minutes, depending on how many exercises I do and how many rotations of each one I choose to perform.  In the 2 years following that 2009 class, it seems to do the trick pretty darned well for me; and that’s why I’ve kept up the practice.

There are a couple of neat little Neh Gung exercises tucked away in this book if you should ever pick it up!

One of the things, in my infinite “to do” list is to learn some of the more extensive techniques involved, just to see what else is there, and “how deep the rabbit hole goes”, so to speak; and I have actually touched on the subject at random in my classes as a way to bring everyone’s mind to training at the initiation of class, or a way to decompress at the end of training.  As a matter of fact, I’m giving serious thought to adding Neh Gung sessions to the regular class schedule in the not-too-distant future because I’m starting to bear the fruit of some of the benefits of even my own limited knowledge & practice.

Until then, catch me before regular class and you may see me doing some of these exercises from time to time.

Master Wayne Boozer

Having finished the major events of the year, culminating with my last recertification exam in Pittsburgh, I have myself a bit of a break.

Well, the break time is over.  It’s time to start the journey to next year.

Actually, I base the way that I train in martial arts off of the habit of “phase” training that I picked up back when I had aspirations as a bodybuilder.  Interestingly enough, it translated directly, and I find that it works wonders to keep me motivated regarding my progress physically and in Tang Soo Do.  The phases that I include are as follows:

• Maintenance Phase
• Power Phase
• Pre-Event Phase

I’m gonna start in the middle.

Power Phase – Time to Get Stronger

The “power phase” involves spending quality time getting stronger.  Strength training has always been a pivotal part of my regimen, primarily because of my small stature.  I generally spend 2 – 3 months of the year utilizing a number of power-lifting techniques in order to maximize my strength capabilities.  It usually involves putting on anywhere between 3 & 10 lbs of muscle.  Admittedly, a touch of age has forced me to approach this phase with a touch of caution.  I’m a traditional weightlifter and it’s not exactly easy on the joints; but it works for me….and it works well.  During this time I minimize distance running, but the plyometrics never go away.  Gives me an excuse to continue to visit the track often.

Pre-Event Phase – Showtime!

At the outset of the “pre-event” phase, I’ve genuinely brought the distance running back into the game.  If you look back on my posts, you’ll see that I’ve spent the past 2 years steadily moving from a 1 mile to an almost 4 mile consistent run.  To compliment, I back off of the heavy weight training a tad.  I replace it with more plyometrics and a slightly different regimen when I’m at the gym.  During this time I’m more likely to lift 65 – 70% of my max and go to muscle failure, rather than max out the poundage.  I find, personally, that the combination helps me with sustained bursts of energy.  Speaking of plyometrics, by the way, this is also when you’ll see me doing the most wind sprints.  Keep in mind, I was in straight up pre-event phase last spring when I was prepping for the obstacle course races, competition and testing.  Feel free to look at my old posts to get a snapshot.  In the week leading up to an event, I’ll back off (but not stop altogether) in order to give my body an opportunity to recover and be more than 100% when it’s go time.  The pre-event phase can last anywhere from 4 – 6 months exhausting months.

Maintenance Phase – Never Stop Training!

This is where I am at the time of writing this.  Having met my goals for the year, I can back off of the strict regimen a little more; but not sacrifice it altogether.  This is where the journal comes in handy.  I set up short-term and mid-range goals in order to keep the fires stoked so that I always have a reason to be in the dojang, in the gym or on the track.  This proverbial rest time also gives me an opportunity to assess where I am physically and decide what I want to do with myself in the coming year.  This is my “brainstorming” phase for reinventing myself physically each year in order to come back stronger, faster, and better.  During the maintenance phase, I never stop working.  If I do, it’ll make reaching next year’s goals too difficult.  I basically put things on “cruise control” and plateau my progress ON PURPOSE.  This way I always have a baseline for my abilities.  The maintenance phase rounds out my year.

This isn’t difficult to do, folks, and you can apply it to other physical endeavors.  The key is, as it is with everything else, CONSISTENCY.  This way, you become your own source of motivation.  What works for you?

Master Wayne Boozer

Obviously, these are not easy moments to have, and the consequential adjustment of your life’s priorities can sometimes be a hard road to plow.  No one likes to be hit with the revelation that they’re doing things wrong…..trust me on that.  It’s an ugly feeling.  Still, once you realize that said adjustments need to be made, you press on and muddle through life as best you can.

I raise this point because recently, a friend asked me how I manage to maintain focus with all the different responsibilities, interests and curve-balls that life throws at me.  I’ll be the first one to tell you that it’s not easy; but I think I get by pretty well.  I opened this blog post the way that I did because it relates to the same subject……and I’ll show you how.

I consider myself to be extremely fortunate to have discovered that I would like to dedicate my life’s work to teaching and training in martial arts.  I say this because you often hear of people who ramble through life without figuring out a “purpose”.  Having found mine at the relatively young age of 35 (which, in retrospect would have been an easy year for me to stop training altogether); I can now use each year as sort of a measuring stick on progress towards a life-long journey.  That is, of course, mastery and an understanding of the art of Tang Soo Do.  I’m happy with that purpose, and I find it to be most fulfilling to be on a consistent path of learning, and to share what I have learned with others.  Each year, each month, each week, and each day has some degree of progress towards that goal.

Sure that sounds like a pretty darned focused way to get through life; but just like everyone else, I get distracted too.  I’m a husband.  I’m a father.  For the time being, I have the responsibilities of a day job to provide for my family.  I have bills, and many of the same daily worries as each of you.  Staying focused enough to continually reach towards that goal of mastery without getting discouraged is not the easiest thing to do.  Sometimes it’s very much the challenge.

Getting back to my original point about “life’s upheavals”, I’d like to share with you something that I learned from those past experiences.  You see, Mommy raised a writer.  Whenever things were at their most difficult, I would often find myself writing down what was troubling me.  I found this to have a kind of purging effect that also allowed me to focus on eradicating whatever it was that was giving me issue.  I took up this practice way back when I was about 22 years old, and while I found that it worked wonders for me; I was inconsistent at best.

Now let’s fast forward back to late 2007, when I moved back to Houston, Texas.  There were a number of things that were pulling me away from training at the time, and like I said earlier in this post, it would have been easy to take a break from training…..or quit altogether.

I came dangerously close to quitting the year that I tested for this belt - I decided not to.

….I made a choice.  I chose not to pause the culmination of all those years of training.

Once I determined that I would continue my training, largely on my own, and eventually start another school, I started to write down my goals.  I wrote down the long-term goals.  I wrote down the mid-term goals.  I wrote down the short-term goals, right down to what I wanted to get done by the next week.  I placed the long-term goals into a binder that (to this day) rarely leaves my side.  In addition, I started a second journal that allowed me to track my daily achievements, both large and small.  I decided, early into the game, that I would need that second journal in order to keep myself in check.  It too worked.

Okay….why go through all this trouble?  I can just hear you asking.

I often joke with my wife that I’m not getting any younger.  While I hopefully still have quite a few years left on the planet, I think I have just enough years left to really see my dream of teaching martial arts full-time come to fruition.  The act of writing all of this down and tracking my daily activities keeps my focus in check.  It drives me towards my goals, both personally and for my school.  I apply it to my personal life.  I apply it to the way I train.  I apply it to school business.  The word here is accountability.

Here's a snapshot of my personal goals binder. It gets updated weekly, and I keep my long-term goals in the front where I can re-read them often. Not shown is my daily accountability journal.

I remember when I first started in Tang Soo Do, I took it upon myself to start a journal of my training to chronicle what I had learned.  Techniques were written down in my own words and it made everything make sense to me.  To this day, you often hear me preach (yes, preach) to my students about the importance of journalizing what they learn in class (I even go as far as warning them that I want to see said journals before they test for Dan).  I sincerely believe that the way I manage myself today is the evolution of that practice.  Writing it down holds me accountable.  Writing it down enables me to better visualize a goal.  If I can visualize it, then I can work for it until I’ve achieved it, and then I can move on to the next goal.  It keeps me focused.  It keeps me hungry; and it’s a stern reminder, whenever I need it the most, that MY WORK IS NOT DONE.

Got a goal?  Write it down.  Put it some place where you can refer to it often.  Track your progress, and go for it.

Master Wayne Boozer

….but this year was different.

I am used to going to seminars and working really hard to show my seniors that my technique has improved and that my work ethic in practice remains strong.  I usually return home sore and tired from 2 days of being put through my paces on much of  my federation-regulated material to ensure accuracy and correctness in technique.  I walk in switched on and ready to work.

….but this year was different.

I arrived in Pittsburgh at mid-day on Friday alongside Master Chris DuFour, 5th Dan and a really close friend, from Pensacola, FL.  He and I had met up in Atlanta, GA for our connecting flights and had already spent much of the late morning chatting about our mutually shared philosophies on training in Tang Soo Do and dojang ownership.  We were picked up from the airport by Kyo Sa Nim Liz Lindsay.  Kyo Sa Lindsay, if you ever get to see her in action, is a force of nature in the dojang, tempered only by her sharp sense of humor.  By far our resident juggernaut of the tournament circuit, she has the heart not of a competitor, but of a traditional martial artist.  If you ever get a chance to speak with her in-person, be sure to look at her knuckles.  She conditions them, the old school way…..

Kyo Sa Nim Liz Lindsay, Sa Bom Nim Chris DuFour and I sharing a lighter moment.

….but I digress…….

We arrived at Federation headquarters a little after 3:30 on Friday afternoon and after making the rounds with some of the more senior masters, including Choong Jae Nim himself, Masters Joe Bruno and Dean Kelly, proceeded to start some informal training on Dan level ho sin sul techniques to ensure accuracy and consistency.  Soon after, the official lineup was called and it was time to begin the weekend.  All of a sudden I’m in a sea of black belts, all ready to train.  I fell into rank, stood at attention and awaited orders.  After the formalities, which were double-teamed by Choong Jae Nim and Bu Choone Jae Nim Goss (who I affectionately nickname “grandfather”), room assignments were handed out.  You see, headquarters is divided into 3 rooms that can be utilized for training.  While the announcements are made, I hear my name…..

“Sa Bom Nim Wayne Boozer will assist with instructing Cho Dans in the side room….”

Huh??

All of a sudden it dawns on me that I’m now a member of the Technical Advisory Committee; and when I attend the big events, I have the duty of instruction because the Federation trusts my technique.  I stood there dumbstruck for a couple of seconds until I hear the command for everyone to head to their assigned rooms.  I wind up teaching alongside Sa Bom Nim Patrick Leach (Pittsburgh), Sa Bom Nim Joe Fitzgerald (Chicago) and Sa Bom Nim Richard Hellings (Wales) for the next 2.5 hours.  We are commanded to go through some ranking material with the Cho Dans, and I find that we all work supremely well together; pulling out the details of many techniques and explaining not only the “how” but also the “why”.  While I’m not actually spending my time in-training, the time spent watching the other students and assisting with explanation proves to be very insightful.  When we finally break for the night at about 9:00, I leave happy; having learned quite a few changes to Gup-level Il Soo Sik techniques that I would later write down so I could implement them in class.

Back at the hotel, I wind up spending some quality informal time with Bu Choong Jae Nim Goss Sr., his son, Master Joe Goss, Jr. (a brilliant martial artist who is the direct product of his father’s teachings), and Masters Wynford Wiliams and Richard Hellings of Wales (both also dear friends).  The late evening turns into a multi-table discussion of the histories of forms and theories about the advancement and future of Tang Soo Do.  You cannot put  value on being part of these discussions with seniors.  It gives you the opportunity to peer into the soul of instructors that you hold in the utmost respect.  Moments like that I remember the most.  Still, the evening grew late, and we all knew that the weekend was just beginning, so we retired for the night at about midnight or so……

On Saturday morning, Sa Bom Nim DuFour and I were once again picked up from the hotel by a smiling Kyo Sa Nim Lindsay.  Part 2 of the weekend was to be held at the local Boyce community college campus, as their gymnasium gave us enough room for the more-than-expected number of people who showed up to train.  I’d been to this place on more than one occasion, and I have fond memories of racing Master Marcus Murtaugh (another influence of mine) down the hill adjacent to the gym after Neh Gung training with Choong Jae Nim back in 2009.  Before lineup, a meeting with the Technical Advisory Committee is called during which we are sternly reminded of our responsibilities as committee members.  It occurs to me that the senior-most masters are starting to rely more on the committee to enforce the standards and accuracy of technique.  I have a job.  That job is to keep my skill level high enough for others to pattern their moves after mine.  That job is to make sure that my corrections are consistent with what Choong Jae Nim and my seniors wishes.  Wow…..

Once again, formalities are done, assignments are handed out, and I am given a group of Dans to teach, alongside Sa Bom Nims Mark Pagano (from Maryland….and another close friend) and Hellings.  Between Friday night and Saturday, I managed to get some real insight into Master Hellings’ approach to instruction.  He has a brilliantly tempered toughness that’s rounded out by a dry sense of humor.  The combination forces you to listen to everything he says, otherwise you’ll miss something.  Sa Bom Nim Pagano and I on the other hand, teach like a couple of brothers that grew up together, feeding off of each other’s energy every step of the way.  Saturday was about strengthening bonds, and we spent it refining the Cho Dans’ forms, weapons techniques, one-steps and stances.  I realized that all of a sudden, I had become one of the influences.  That revelation kinda scared me.

I slept fitfully on Saturday night.  The anticipation of testing on Sunday had started to fill my head and was stirring my spirit.  I was getting nervous.  This was to be my final recertification as a 4th Dan if I was to be eligible to test for 5th degree in 2012.  I really wanted to impress my seniors and show why I was a committee member and that I was ready for this step.  My eyes popped open at 5:00 am because I could no longer sleep.  Sa Bom Nim DuFour trekked over to McDonald’s at about 6:00 am to get the blood flowing and discuss our feelings about the weekend thus far.  There was a rising electricity about the day as we both knew that we would be particularly watched.  Still, we both managed smiles over morning coffee and chat in anticipation of the day.

I can recall my 4th Dan test as one of my life-changing moments.  As  I lined up with the rest of the students in preparation for testing, I realized that I was nearing the end of that particular chapter.  I also had a very rare opportunity to watch my seniors test.  Watching senior black belts in action on that level has always been a treat for me.  It brings me back to the awe of being a white belt and seeing a Dan in action for the first time.  I compare it to watching the Blue Angels giving an areal performance.  You simply sit there with your mouth open in wonder……

Demonstrating jump spinning back kick during testing.

In retrospect, while I think I did fairly well, I still think I have a lot of work to do.  Now, the countdown begins and I know where the next year has to go.  Still, after hyung demonstration, basics, weapons, self-defense, sparring & a breaking demonstration.  My last recertification is a challenge that I have now passed.

Afterwards, my position as a TAC member kicked in again as I was enlisted to be on the board of masters testing 3rd Dans to the master level.  I remember being in that lineup.  I remember wanting to impress.  I remember putting 150% into every technique I threw for that particular test.  Now here I was on the testing board.  Talk about things coming full-circle.  When it’s all over, it’s a magical moment.  It’s a huge release of emotion as the 13+ years of study culminates to a single test.  You make friends that you’ll have for the rest of your life.  You’ll tell stories about the experience for years to come.  It changes you.

Last recert: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!

Posing with Choong Jae Nim CS Kim, Bu Choong Jae Nim Goss Sr., Sa Bom Nim Goss Jr and some of the other senior masters after testing on Sunday.

When it was all said and done, we slowly said our goodbyes, and the crowd dispersed into different directions.  I came away from this year once again with renewed vigor for training, and an idea of what I need to do over the next year to ensure that I’m ready again.  This year, I got to teach alongside my heroes in the federation.  I got to sit in deep discussion about philosophy & history with seniors what I trust and whose friendships I value.  This year I discovered that as a member of the Technical Advisory Board, my role in the seminars has changed greatly, and Sa Bom Nims Pagano, DuFour, Fitzgerald and I now have genuine responsibilities, both to ourselves and to the Federation, to keep our respective skill levels as high as possible at all times.  A heavy burden?  No.  A necessary challenge in a lifetime in training? Absolutely.  THIS WAS a good weekend.  TANG SOO!!

It’s what gets a lot of adult students through the front door of a martial arts class.  We like the idea of learning how to defend ourselves.  Sometimes, it’s a bad experience (like domestic violence or a mugging) that has brought us through the door.  It’s an unfortunate reality that we live in a sometimes violent world, and the need to defend yourself against an assailant is something that many of us will face at least once in a lifetime.  Still, the violence that we may be forced to defend ourselves against, and our means of defense have changed greatly over the generations.  It’s quite interesting to apply that to martial arts, particularly what one would call “traditional martial arts”.

First of all, let’s define the term “traditional martial arts”.  I’m using a broad, personal definition; and from what I gather in books I’ve read and my instructors have taught me, “traditional martial arts” is that expression used for all fighting arts that are steeped in military history of a nation, and backed by a largely Asian-influenced philosophical base.  Without going off on too much of a tangent, you can largely apply this definition to many fighting arts still taught today like TaeKwonDo, Shotokan Karate, my own Tang Soo Do, and many others.  Even the popular non-violent art of Aikido was originally based on techniques derived from Aiki-Jiujitsu, which if you know your martial arts history, was quite brutal.  The changes brought about by Morihei Ueshiba (regarded as the father of that art) came about from the later integration of his personal and religious beliefs.

So anyway, let’s take a quick trip back in time…..a couple of centuries perhaps?

What I’m talking about is going to a period in time before there was any business in martial arts.  I’m talking about the times where “self defense” really did not mean personal protection.  It meant that the attacker never got up again.  Indeed, as we have evolved as a species, our morals have changed greatly as well.  The martial arts techniques that evolved into modern-day Tang Soo Do, Shotokan, and TaeKwonDo were largely utilized, in their purest form, to incapacitate the opponent.  This is one of those things that we should keep in mind as we learn more about whatever we’ve chosen to study; especially amongst those arts that lay claim to integration with the military history of a nation.  Even with the modern Day US, if you look up the close-quarters combat techniques of the army manual, they’re mostly quite lethal.  Keep in mind that “self-defense” in the military is usually a “him or me” situation where someone does not survive.

I’m sure that everyone that has studied martial arts for a decent length of time has heard the stories about the Asian peasants learning the techniques of empty-handed combat to defend themselves against well-armed military overlords (yes, I’m being vague here on purpose).  If you dig deeper, you find that these stories are highly glamorized almost movie-like tales about the mystical effectiveness of martial arts; but if you look past that, you will see that “self-defense” often did not mean teaching the bully a lesson and then walking home.  It meant a life or death struggle.  Self defense was not taught to the privileged few as a weekly diversion.  It was genuine combat.  We often hear about stories of the noble martial arts master teaching the lowly thug a painful lesson, only to have the thug see the error of his ways and then beg the master to teach him the ways of enlightened self defense.  Such stories are in fact, great lessons; but this was rarely the reality of a genuine fight back then.

By comparison, unless under extreme circumstances (i.e. your life is jeopardized by an assailant willing to take your life), we tend to define self defense with the priority of our own personal safety.  This of course means that once you have nullified the threat, we tend not to go after the guy with the intent of breaking his neck.  In today’s world, that’s assault.  You wind up in jail.  Self defense our modern times means self-protection.

(teaching a white belt the basics of ho sin sul….at what point does the line of “self defense” get crossed?)

One of the lessons that we constantly revisit at my school is one of “intent”.  I often teach my students variations of a technique and then pose the question: what are you trying to accomplish?  We learn blocks as defenses, for example.  Those same blocks later become attacks as experience grows.  I find it quite easy to transition many of my Federation-regulated moves into painful choke holds or arm-bars; but at what point have you crossed the line that it’s no longer defending yourself?  I resolve this issue by constantly reminding my students that “the amount of force used must directly reciprocate the threat against you”.  I find that in most circumstances, that’s a safe measuring stick.  To put it bluntly, you don’t break someone’s arm for slapping you; but if your life is threatened by a gun or a knife, then feel free to turn things up.

To re-iterate, self-defense today means self-protection.  I say that with a wry smile because many of our forms (hyung, kata, etc.), which are an integral part of what we do,  go far beyond the mentality of “defense” and can be utilized to instead launch quite the brutal offense instead.  It sort of gives you a lot more respect for the things that you learn when practicing the intricacies of hyung.  As we have “evolved” into a more civilized society, self-defense rarely means taking the other person’s life (although that extreme does happen), and we martial artists find ourselves walking a fine line between protecting ourselves or a loved one and assault & battery.

Master Wayne Boozer

I say that because it actually refers to my personal attempts to understand the concept of mastery in martial arts.  The funny thing about this journey is that the deeper I dig, the less I realize I know.

I tested for the rank of "master" in 2007 and was promoted by Master YD Kim in July of 2008. Since then, I've been searching for a tangible definition of what it means to "be the master".

In the martial arts world, it’s all too easy to get caught up in the pursuit of rank.  The titles of black belt, instructor, master, all sound quite prestigious.  It becomes a means to an end; and in the short time I’ve been training I’ve seen a number of both surprising and disappointing situations.  I’ve seen people quit at 1st Dan (when the learning & understanding really begins) and I’ve also seen black belts and masters break off from their family, promote themselves and head up their own organization.  It’s a strange world we have here, with all kinds of interesting twists and turns.

One of the sayings that I often repeat to my students is that “I am by no means the end of all knowledge”.  Even within the confines of my own Federation, there are a lot of instructors & masters that know a lot more than I do.  Indeed, I’m quite content with this because I’m not so sure that I’d even want the burden of having all of the answers.  Besides, the journey in pursuit of knowledge is just too much fun.  In class, I’m simply the guy that’s been doing this a little longer.

That being said, I think that part of “mastering” your art is your acceptance of the fact that you don’t know everything.  You realize that it’s a lifelong pursuit.  As I rapidly approach age 40, I still consider myself to be one of the “kids” and I still have a lot of years to go before I really settle into my present rank.

I remember patterning myself after black belts that I would see in-training when I was still a beginner.  Even today I can watch a technique (from a junior or senior in rank) that impresses me to the point of wanting to adapt it into my own toolbox.  I can often practice on my own and still hear the echoes of more than one instructor sternly telling me to remember to lift my foot, or to tuck my elbow so my ribs aren’t exposed.  Regardless of my present relationship with past & present instructors, they ALL contribute to the Tang Soo Do that I practice today.  I can watch the techniques of one particular instructor from my early years and still pick out my own habits.  I can teach a “rule” to my students and trace my own adherence to that rule to studying under another instructor for more almost a decade.  Both gentlemen contributed to what I do today.  It’s easy to say that “I don’t practice with such and such anymore because of our different opinions on this subject”; but at some point you have to remind yourself exactly who taught  you that technique….who taught you that form……

I think the acceptance of all influences is another key to mastery.

One of the things that I’ve often caught myself saying to my students is that “I can teach you the rules; but it’s up to you to make it your own”.  What I mean by that is that I don’t want a bunch of carbon copies of myself in class.  Each of us has our own unique abilities.  We all have something to bring to the table in our respective art.  We all have the ability to leave our mark due to our own unique perspective.  I pride myself on my physical capabilities and strength, for example.  Someone who trains under me may not have the same capabilities but may be particularly talented in picking up self-defense techniques…..possibly with the potential of becoming much better than I could ever be.  It’s my responsibility to recognize that and cultivate it within the student.  That’s not always easy because it’s really an admission to yourself that the student has the ability to become better than you in a particular area.

On that note, if you’re going to have an ambition as a master or high-ranking instructor, it should be to make your students even better than you.  Give them the tools they need to take things further than you did.

The title for master in Tang Soo Do (and so many other Korean-based arts) is “Sa Bom Nim” (which I’ve seen spelled in various manners).  As I wear the belt that goes with the title longer; I’ve found that my definition of the title has changed.  To me, it does not mean “one who has mastered”.  It means “one who did not quit”, “one who continues to pursue knowledge”, or “one who accepts the responsibility of influencing others (both directly & indirectly) in the art”.

….hence, the reason for the title of my blog, “Be the Master” comes from my own pursuit of the ever-changing definition of what it means to one-day be a true master of Tang Soo Do.  There is no way I could put myself on the same level as some of my influences.  There’s always more to learn, and the influences are boundless.  Perhaps one day, someone will watch me perform a technique or hyung and be able to pick out those influences, yet still call the execution uniquely mine.  Better yet, maybe I can show one of my students how to achieve that goal better than I ever could.

….either way, in 20 years, I’ll still be in pursuit of the answer……but the journey is certainly rewarding.

Wayne Boozer (yes, I skipped the title on purpose)