Dr. Harriet Hall, known as the "SkepDoc" and a former guest on my Internal Fighting Arts podcast, died unexpectedly on January 11, 2023 at the age of 77. She had been in poor health including heart issues for the past three or more years. I was very sorry to hear the news. She was an intelligent person with integrity.

Dr. Hall was a critic of "alternative" medicine that so many people involved in Taijiquan seem to believe in. She did a lot of good work bringing critical thinking skills to the discussion of science and medicine. As Dr. Steven Novella wrote about her:

"....Harriet has been tireless in her efforts to help educate the public about how science should inform the practice of medicine, and how medicine, and even common sense, can go horribly wrong when we abandon good science as our guide. Among her many contributions, Harriet is remembered for coining the phrase, Tooth Fairy Science, which nicely crystalized and communicated one of the many core problems with alternative science. To paraphrase, you can study in detail all of the aspects of the Tooth Fairy phenomenon without ever getting to the core question – the only question that really matters – does the Tooth Fairy actually exist?"

Dr. Hall was a family physician and a former Air Force Flight Surgeon who retired at the rank of Colonel.

I have been a skeptic about alternative medicine since I studied acupuncture in the late 1980s and early 90s, and attempted to learn how to read someone's "aura" and other bogus things as part of my Traditional Chinese Medicine studies with a former kung-fu teacher. I opened my mind and gave it a shot, studying acupuncture for two years. In the end, I came to the conclusion that the traditional "science" behind acupuncture is superstitious fantasy. If acupuncture works in some cases for minor pain or nausea relief, it is not for the reasons explained in TCM.

Among the points Dr. Hall made in our podcast interview:

** Our ancestors, and people in China, evolved in an environment without books or, of course, the internet. They relied on personal experience and information from others to learn about the world. As a result, we are programmed to listen to stories and anecdotes more than scientific research.

** There is a lot of bad research coming out of China. In fact, you cannot trust medical studies on alternative medicine from China.

** Many studies of alternative medicine are financed and supported by organizations with a financial interest in the outcome of the studies.

** If alternative medicine was proven to be true, it would be called "medicine," not "alternative medicine."

** Skeptics are not closed-minded, they are completely open to evidence.

** Belief in something like alternative medicine can be similar to belief in a religion, where it causes the believer to reject evidence that suggests they believe in something that is not true.

** Medical doctors are not necessarily scientists, and many of them lack the rigorous training in scientific methods that help them evaluate the true validity of clinical studies. 

** If a medical treatment works in Beijing, it should also work in Dallas or it is not medicine.

** Alternative therapies such as "breathing in colors" and healing sounds are unfounded and their claims are ultimately false.

** Misinformation about TCM can cause harm if it leads to people rejecting legitimate treatments.

There were so many important points made by Dr. Hall in our interview that it is important for anyone interested in the internal arts or TCM to listen. You can listen online or download the podcast with Dr. Harriet Hall through this link.

Some people in the world of Taijiquan and TCM got angry with me after I released this podcast, and I can't help that. Evidence is evidence, and when someone makes a medical or scientific claim, it is our responsibility as intelligent creatures to demand valid, rigorous evidence before we believe. So as I can imagine Dr. Hall saying, "Keep an open mind, but not so open that your brains fall out." 

I am sorry she is gone. We need more people like her, not fewer.

--by Ken Gullette

I hit the big 7-0 last week.

They say age is just a number, but in my case, it's a BIG number.

I didn't even know how to spell septuagenarian and now I is one.

It's bad enough I've been dealing with the loss of one lung and a heart problem for the past 13 years, but now I have to be an old man, too? That's like adding insult to injury!

It's enough to make you throw sidekicks.

Okay, Ken. Stop and take a breath.

Center yourself.

Calm your mind and relax your rapidly withering, creaking body.

Worse things can happen to you than turning 70. For example, you could have died before you turned 70.

I had one grandfather who died at age 27, another who died at 69, and my dad died at age 61. I should be happy that I'm still studying, practicing, and teaching the internal arts. And I actually am very happy about that.

But it plays with your head. On the day after my birthday last week, I realized that I felt no different than I did the week before. I felt young. You know, like I was 65 again. But it still plays with your head.

I try to look ahead. In ten years I'll be 80. Just ten years. That passes pretty quickly. After all, it has been 23 years since Y2K. That went by pretty quickly, didn't it?

For most martial artists I know, after their sixties they were changing fast. Chen Fake died at age 70. Hu Yaozhen, the Taoist qigong master, passed away at age 76. One of Hu's students, Feng Zhiqiang, died at age 84, which is pretty good. He still had game in his 70s. Chen Xiaowang is 77 now. His younger brother Xiaoxing is my age. 

My wife Nancy retired from her job a month ago, just a few days after she turned 65. We have really enjoyed the past month. I have enjoyed seeing her free from the pressure of getting up at 5:40 a.m. and going to work for the Man. Suddenly, every day is Saturday and every night is Friday night. It's a wonderful thing.

But during the past month, as I thought about hitting 70, I wondered if I should begin to step back a little. I am either studying these arts or teaching these arts or practicing these arts seven days a week. Sometimes, I take a day off from practicing, but that's only to give my old body a rest, and even then I'm writing or reading or thinking of Taiji, Xingyi, Bagua, Qigong or philosophy. And I'm working with my students, maybe doing a live one-on-one session on Zoom.

It really helps to be doing what I love. Yes, my legs get very tired by the end of the day. I sit down at night on the couch with Nancy and we watch one of our favorite shows and enjoy a glass of wine, and after a while I'll stand up and my legs shout, "No! Don't make us do more work!"

The other night, I got up from the couch and Nancy said, "Ken, you're walking like an old man."

I said, "Well........" 

She laughed.

But when I think about stepping back a little, there is a voice in my head that says, "Who are you kidding? You love this. You study with Nabil on Mondays and Tuesdays and then you're bouncing around like a toddler, excited about what you're practicing. You're teaching on Wednesdays and sometimes Friday and Saturday and you meet during the winter with your in-person students on Sundays. You feel like something is missing if you skip a practice. Who are you kidding?"

Yeah, the voice in my head is right. I couldn't step away if I tried. I want to make more memories with Nancy while we have time, so I have pledged to myself, and I have succeeded in the past month, to take more time during weekdays to do something with her instead of being devoted to gongfu all day long. After all, isn't "balance" one of the goals we're after in Taijiquan?

So age is just a number. A terrifying number, maybe, but let's just remain centered and push forward. There are skills, movements and mechanics I want to develop, a dragon body to pursue, and goals yet to achieve. I don't have the stamina I used to have. If I'm a student in a class or workshop, I take more breaks than the younger guys. But I'm still moving pretty well. I can still kick a 6-foot tall guy in the head. I want to do what seemed impossible when the lung went South when I was 57. I want to improve in my 70s and still be practicing and teaching at 80.

I have a goal that can be summed up in a true story. The legendary cellist Pablo Casals practiced his instrument for hours each day, and when he was 90 years old, someone asked, "Why are you continuing to practice at age 90?"

Casals said, "Because I think I'm making progress."

So the title of this blog post, What Happens When a Martial Artist Turns 70, can be answered this way:

He practices.

--by Ken Gullette

I present Colin Frye with his black sash as Kim Kruse looks on.

On Sunday, January 15, 2023, I awarded black sashes to two long-time students, Colin Frye and Justin Snow. It was an event that I have been looking forward to for several years.

Colin began studying with me when he was a student at Augustana College around 2004. Justin started not long after, when he was 16-years old. 

Our curriculum is so extensive, covering the basics of Xingyiquan, Chen style Taijiquan, and Baguazhang, it can take four or five years of heavy-duty, nearly nonstop practice to earn a black sash. It can take a lot longer if you are a normal human being. That's why since 1997, when I first began teaching, Colin and Justin possess only the fourth and fifth black sashes I have awarded. Colin and Justin now join the ranks of Rich Coulter, Chris Miller, Kim Kruse, and Marilyn Hackett (who was awarded an honorary black sash). Kim was at the presentation of the sashes to Colin and Justin.

Anyone who has seen my videos has seen Colin and Justin. I have depended on Colin since he was 22 to be the one who shows up when everyone else is busy, and when both of these guys are there, our practices are full of creativity and growth. Justin was the teenager who peppered me with questions during class like, "What if someone did this?" He has added a great deal to our practices due to his size and strength. As I continue to study and try to get better, I depend on them to help me, and they do. 

Justin Snow receives his black sash with Kim Kruse and Colin standing in support.

When I began teaching, I taught a system in which a student could earn a colored sash for each rank up to black sash. During the first three sash levels, students studied the basics of Xingyi. During the middle three levels, they learned the basics of Chen Taiji. During the final three levels before black sash, they learned the basics of Bagua. After they got through nine levels, they spent a couple of years practicing the entire curriculum.

When I earned my black sash almost 26 years ago, it was an important milestone. I worked my butt off to get there, but I didn't feel great about the system I was in, so I hit the tournament circuit to find out if I could compete with the best of other styles. I found out that I could, but I knew there were holes in my curriculum, so I sought out information, videos, and in 1998 I met my first Chen Taiji teacher, Jim Criscimagna, who taught along with his wife Angela in Rockford, Illinois.

So my black sash actually signalled the beginning of my real studies. A black sash is like achieving a Bachelor's Degree in college. It's an honorable achievement. It takes hard work and determination. But after you get a B.A. you are ready for higher levels of learning. Now, the real learning begins. We can help each other improve our skills.

We don't wear sashes to our practices. We only wear uniforms when shooting "official" videos. They are probably the last students I will take through a colored-sash curriculum. We have been evolving out of that and the evolution continues. But for this moment, we reward hard work, persistence, dependability and loyalty. In our thinking, after you reach black sash, you become known by what you know and what you can do. It's up to each person how they want to travel that path. Some stop when they reach black sash, some go forward very slowly, and for some of us, we couldn't stop if we wanted to. It's part of our DNA.

Congratulations, Colin and Justin. Your black sash is well-deserved. Insert a deep bow here. Now let's go!

--by Ken Gullette

The holiday season can be a stressful time. Beween buying gifts, going to work parties, and reuniting with family, it can knock you out of harmony with the universe.

In fact, compared with the summer months, statistics show that Tai Chi practitioners at this time of year are 37% more likely to rip out an irritating family member's heart and show it to them before they die.

That's why I recommend stopping for a few moments to breathe, calm your mind and center yourself by doing a short Tai Chi form designed to relieve your holiday stress and prevent your hand from striking out with five fingers of death.

Whether you're dealing with Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or Festivus, this form will help you remain One with the Universe during the hectic days between now and the first of the new year.

Here are the Top 10 Tai Chi Movements for the Holidays:

1. Buddha's Warrior Attendant Pounds Egg Nog
2. Grasp the Elf’s Tail
3. Part the Wild Reindeer’s Mane
4. Hidden Spiked Punch
5. Fair Maiden Works in the Kitchen
6. White Ape Offers Cranberry Sauce
7. Lazy About Wrapping the Gift
8. Wave Gift Receipt Like Clouds
9. Golden Turkey Loses Two Legs
10. Step Back and Repulse the Fruitcake

Happy Holidays!

--by Ken (and Nancy, who came up with #7) Gullette

Kimberly Ivy in China at the Chen Village, the birthplace of Taijiquan.

On my latest edition of the podcast -- Number 65 -- I wanted to talk with a couple of different people who own bricks-and-mortar martial arts schools. It is the dream of a lot of martial artists -- to own your own school and teach martial arts for a living. It can be very satisfying, but there are challenges that everyone should realize, and skills you need to have to achieve success. The physical demands can be very great, at least early on, the expenses range from rent or building payments to utilities, mirrors and mats, marketing costs, including website, video and social media, martial arts equipment, and possibly costs for a staff. Other challenges arise when you feel as if you have to accept virtually everyone in order to pay your bills, even if non-serious students take up class time.

Kimberly Ivy, who teaches Chen Taijiquan and Qigong in Seattle, was one of the first who came to mind when I thought about this episode. She has been teaching in her school for three decades. Like everyone who has a school in a big city, she has faced challenges with rising rents and, of course, Covid. Kim has appeared in two earlier podcasts several years ago.

Michael Celeste demonstrating on World Tai Chi Day.

Michael Celeste works full time at Pfizer and teaches Yang Taijiquan and Wing Chun in Mt. Arlington, New Jersey. He has owned his school for six years.

My own teaching history involves renting space, buying a building, then selling the building because of a change in full-time jobs. For the past 15 years I have primarily taught in a park, but I clearly remember the challenges and pleasures of owning my own school.

In the current economy, and as we have come out of Covid, I think, I wondered if someone who is thinking about starting a school should do it or run from it. I hope you enjoy these conversations. Listen online or download the podcast through this link.

https://internalfightingarts.libsyn.com/website/internal-fighting-arts-65-running-your-own-school-with-kimberly-ivy-and-michael-celeste

My dog Lucky smiling as he greets my wife. His smile says, "I am not aggressive."

My dog Lucky smiles when Nancy or I get home from work or other errands. He is a strong, 55-pound Labrador/Pit Bull mix who could tear one of us apart if he wanted, but instead, he smiles at us when he greets us.

I didn't know why he does this, so I looked it up because someone who doesn't know Lucky might think he is baring his teeth, ready to eat them alive.

When dogs do this, it is called a "Submissive Smile." It is their way of communicating, "I am not aggressive."

I found out about this "Submissive Smile" and realized I do the same thing. When I encounter a stranger, I smile, nod or say hello, even when I just pass someone in the cereal aisle at the grocery store, among the boxes of Cocoa Puffs and Honey Smacks.

I am always quick with a joke or a light comment to put people at ease. I like for people around me to relax and have fun.

Perhaps I'm communicating, "I am not aggressive" in my own friendly way.

I once told someone, "I am a man of peace." The person replied, "Then why do you study violent martial arts?"

It's a fair question.

There is an ancient Chinese saying that goes like this:

"It is better to be a warrior in the garden than a gardener in the war."

So why have I been obsessed with learning martial arts for nearly 50 years? Punches, kicks, blocks and deflections, joint locks, takedowns -- the art of self-defense is fun for me.

A man of peace?  

In truth, I never want to fight again. My last fight was at age 18 in 1971, when I finally confronted a bully -- Rob Brewster -- who had tried to terrorize me with a couple of bully buddies -- Dan Cotter and Tom Prentiss -- for years. It didn't go well for Robby. He ran away after a couple of punches in the nose. It is now 51 years later, and other than tournament matches, I have not had a violent encounter with anyone.

Something interesting happened in my mind when I was a kid and had to fight a bully. I enjoyed it. I tried to avoid a fight, but if I could not peacefully walk away, there was something about fighting a bully that felt like important things were being tested within me -- my inner strength, my determination, my fighting skill, and also my self-confidence.

I never lost a fight..

If you study martial arts like I do, and you push your body to learn how to creatively and effectively apply the techniques against another person, it doesn't make you a violent person. I almost consider martial arts to be like a puzzle. When a bully attacks you, it is a problem that has a solution.

When I competed in sparring at tournaments, or in the full-contact Toughman Contest, my goal was to size up my opponent as quickly as I could, figure out his strengths and weaknesses, and then avoid his strengths and exploit his weaknesses. It was a puzzle, a mystery I had to solve very quickly or I would lose the match.

I don't compete anymore. I would love to compete, but as I approach the age of 70 in three months, I am forced to realize those days are behind me. I still work with my students on the puzzle -- the mystery -- because it is fun to build and maintain these skills, and to see how all the movements and techniques in our arts can work if you need them for self-defense.

And so I become the warrior in the garden. I have the ability and the skills to fight, but I focus on living a good life, cultivating my relationships and my own personal fulfillment, spiritual nourishment, and enjoyment of life. My writing and teaching and my wonderful marriage became my garden.

A garden is peaceful, pleasant and without stress. We want everyone to enjoy the garden with us.

But don't make the mistake of thinking we are simply gardeners.

If the moment arises when we need to protect ourselves or our loved ones, the warrior steps out of the garden, ready to help.

--by Ken Gullette

If you have a half-hour to invest, try to work through this video -- it's a live class I did last weekend on Zoom teaching the first of Chen Taiji's Silk-Reeling exercises -- "Single-Hand Reeling."

This is helpful to all internal martial artists, but particularly if you practice Taijiquan and Baguazhang.

I have to say that most of the videos I've seen on silk-reeling don't teach it at all. But that should be no surprise. The first teacher who taught me silk-reeling had no clue what silk-reeling is, so I was sent down a blind alley thinking that to achieve silk-reeling, we "imagine" our Qi spiraling through our body. It's part of "Qi cultivation," he said.

Nope.

Silk-Reeling "energy" -- the Chinese term is chan ssu jin -- is a physical skill requiring a spiraling through the body in a connected way.

Some say the spiraling movements add power to your Taiji. I believe the most practical purpose of silk-reeling is the neutralizing and redirecting of your opponent's force. You know the Dawn dish detergent slogan: "Dawn takes grease out of my way!" Silk-reeling helps do that to your opponent's force.

If you are ready to spend 30 minutes studying this video, schedule a time to do it. I set my camcorder up to record me as I taught a Zoom class on Silk-Reeling exercise #1 -- "Single Hand Reeling." There is gold here that can help you develop your internal movement, especially in Taiji and Bagua.

There is a lot more instruction on spiraling and silk-reeling on my website. Try two weeks and have immediate access to every video I have ever made at www.internalfightingarts.com. 

Sixteen years ago today, on October 15, 2006, I put up my first blog post. 

The first post was a "Welcome to My Blog" kind of post. The second post included two videos of Chen Xiaowang, one of them doing a performance that included fajin, and another was a demonstration -- a bit silly perhaps -- of rooting and grounding.

From there, I have posted on all types of issues and events as a student and teacher, and I have discussed philosophy and life. I have discussed my $5,000 offer for Qi "masters" to do their tricks on me, and I have documented some of the medical struggles you have as you grow older and try to continue as a martial artist.

By the time I launched my "online school" two years later, and as I made videos and DVDs, the blog helped me establish an audience for those efforts.

In short, the blog was a way for me to discuss martial arts from my perspective and develop a reputation. At the time I launched the blog, I not only owned a martial arts school, I was also the director of media relations for ACT, the college test company. I left ACT a year later and worked for the University of South Florida in Tampa, then returned to the Quad Cities to battle heart and lung issues, work for a couple of nonprofits, and continue studying and teaching martial arts. The blog continued.

One thing I've observed during the past 16 years is an evolving marketplace for martial arts. The MMA culture has changed traditional arts, and Covid certainly didn't do any favors for teachers trying to maintain bricks-and-mortar schools. It did help drag a lot of teachers kicking and screaming into online instruction. That is a good thing because it opens up quality instruction to a lot of people who normally wouldn't have access.

MMA culture, along with fighters like Xu Xiaodong, have helped show us some of the weaknesses in the traditional arts, the way we practice, and the number of "masters" who actually don't have any fighting skill. It has pushed the rest of us to step up our game and be more realistic about teaching. 

Nowadays, I don't post on the blog as often as I did 16 years ago, but I try to make the posts mean something. I try to express the truth, and I try to educate people about what the internal arts really are -- martial arts with unique body mechanics. There is nothing mystical about them. Since the blog began, I have learned from Chen Xiaoxing, Chen Bing, Chen Ziqiang, Chen Huixian, Tina Zhang, Nabil Ranne, and I have studied some material of Byron Jacobs. My thirst for knowledge continues even as I am about to reach the age of 70 and consider scaling back just a bit on my efforts. Those thoughts will be explored during the next three months. Ironically, at age 69 I find myself studying, practicing and teaching more than ever. I love what I do.

I appreciate everyone who has read my blog in the past and especially the folks who still read it. You don't hear blogs mentioned often anymore when people talk about social media marketing -- it's all about TikTok, Instagram, Twitter and YouTube (YouTube is the King, in my opinion). But blogs are still important, and this one will continue as long as I do.  :)

In the past 16 years, I think I've become even more realistic about the internal arts and their limits. I don't put masters up on pedestals, and I do realize they make mistakes and develop sloppy habits, too. They are also prone to mistakes in their marketing (a dumb video of Chen Xiaowang with a strongman is an example, a poorly conceived attempt at a demo of grounding and rooting). But there are a lot of good people out there doing their best and going to great pain and expense to seek out and study with great teachers. Often, they become great teachers themselves, and those are the folks I talk to in my Internal Fighting Arts podcast, which launched almost eight years ago.

And now, let's bring back the first video I showed in one of my first posts 16 years ago. It shows Chen Xiaowang doing a demo at a tournament in the Washington, D.C. area back in 2003, on an evening after he taught a workshop on Laojia Yilu that I attended. Thank you for coming along for the ride and here's to another 16 years!

--by Ken Gullette

Comparing notes with Nelson Reyes, a student of Monk Yun Rou, when Nelson passed through town a couple of months ago.

I met a very nice, earnest young man recently who is studying with me in-person after studying Yang style for a couple of years. I asked him to do the first part of his form -- the Yang 24 -- so I could see how he moved. After a few movements I had one reaction.

"Fire your teacher," I told him. "But before you fire him, give him a roundhouse kick to the head."

I had him begin his form again, and during parts of movements I stopped him and pressed lightly on his arms or body. He caved in instantly. There was no peng, no ground path, and when he moved, he twisted and turned from the hips to the shoulders in one unit, which would allow anyone to control his center and take him off-balance.

So we started over. We practiced some principles that give you the internal structure -- internal strength -- and the connected movement through the body that helps you deliver relaxed power. We worked on moving the Dan T'ien, not twisting the hips. We worked on using "intent" throughout the body. We worked on the first silk-reeling exercise, which puts some key body mechanics together.

It's fun when you get someone to think differently, see the substance below the movement and hear them say, "Wow!" over and over.

It made me remember my first experience in Chen style Taiji after studying Yang style for more than a decade. I had won a gold medal with my Yang 24. I thought I really knew Taiji. Then I met my first Chen instructor, Jim Criscimagna, and within one hour, I knew I had to start completely over in Taiji. I drove two hours home from our meeting saying, "Wow!" In fact, I kept saying this each time I studied with him and his wife, Angie.

The first couple of times I met with this new student recently, I had to center myself because it was clear that a lot of people think they are studying Taiji when, in fact, they are learning an art for people who want to vacate their minds and meditate. The weakness and emptiness of what he thought was Taiji frustrated me, but it is a common thing. 

At the same time, it's a great feeling when someone feels the difference between the weaker art and one with internal structure and intent and they have the realization that makes them say, "Wow!"

I try to keep my mouth shut when I see someone doing a weak art. They move their hips in space and turn their hips instead of using the kua and Dan T'ien. They appear often to have no intent in their arms and hands, and no connected movement. I look for a "ribbon of internal strength" moving like a wave through the body, but the ribbon is usually broken, if there is a ribbon at all. If I consider the person a friend, I'll ask a question which might lead to a discussion on that particular movement or principle.

If I ask a question or point something out as politely as I can, I am sometimes told, "Oh, that's YOUR style. That's not our style."

And then I am sometimes told that Chen style is not really Taiji.

Well,okay. Go for it. Do yo thang, baby.

My first Chen teachers, Jim and Angie, taught me some important lessons. For one thing, they encouraged me to study with different masters. If other Chen teachers were nearby, especially when different Chen family members came around, study with them even if it is outside your "lineage." There are masters under a famous Yang-style instructor who live in my area. I have tried to meet up with them to compare notes but they haven't expressed an interest in doing that.

When I met Chen Huixian in 2013, I gained some insights and got corrections that made me say, "Wow!" And that also happened when I began studying with Nabil Ranne in 2020. I didn't think, "He does something different. He's from a different Chen style lineage. That's not MY style."

Several years ago, I met with some of my karate friends for a workout. They showed some of their forms and I showed a Chen-style form. I asked about fighting applications of their movements and they had surprisingly good answers that helped shed light on the applications for some Taiji movements. It was a great exchange and a lot of fun.

A few years ago, I met with a friend who studies Guided Chaos -- a completely different type of martial art -- and I gained insights that made my push hands better. In fact, it changed the way I look at and teach push hands, too.

If you open your mind to insights from other teachers, even other styles, you can come up with information that will improve your skill. I try to get together with people from other Chen and Yang-style lineages whenever I have the chance, to compare notes and to "feel" what they have. I am often pleasantly surprised and I learn something. Sometimes, I even say "Wow!"

-- by Ken Gullette

You'll Say WOW when you try two weeks free on my website and see nearly 1,000 streaming video lessons in Taiji, Xingyi, Bagua and Qigong, PLUS live classes and personal feedback on Zoom. All for only $19.99 per month! Click this link and check it out! 

A little over a week ago, I marked the 49th anniversary of my first martial arts class. You might know the story by now -- 1973, a garage that had been turned into a dojo in the rear part of a strip mall in Lexington, Kentucky -- a room full of young people inspired by Bruce Lee -- in fact, there were so many new students in the intro class, the garage door was opened and the class spilled out into the shopping center's parking lot.

The following week, a large chunk of people didn't return. The week after that, we all fit inside the dojo with the door closed. Every month that passed, the class got smaller but still had nearly 20 students.

I practiced an hour a day, punching and kicking up and down the 7th floor hallway in Commonwealth Hall at Eastern Kentucky University. I was determined to become good.

Now, after 49 years, I find that I am still just as determined to improve my skills as I was in 1973. 

Shouldn't I feel like a "master" by now? Instead, I feel more like a beginner. In Zen Buddhism, you are urged to approach everything with a "beginner's mind." That's how I approach these arts.

Here's how a typical week goes for me, especially in the spring, summer, and early fall:

I study Taiji with Nabil Ranne on Monday, Tuesday, and sometimes Thursday.

I practice with my local students on Monday evenings, Thursday evenings, and do a video shoot or practice with them Sundays.

I teach two live online classes for members of my website on Wednesday and often throw in another live class or two on Xingyi and Bagua on Thursday, Friday, or Saturday.

At various times during the week, I will do private, live one-on-one Zoom classes with members of my website, giving them personal coaching and corrections.

Between all this, I practice Taiji, Xingyi and Bagua, I think, read and write about the internal martial arts, edit new video lessons for the website, and I help any website members who need assistance.

I'm going to be 70 in three months, fer cryin' out loud. Isn't it time to slow down?

But I love it. I can't stop and it's very difficult for me to cut back. I have cut back a little during the past couple of weeks because Nancy and I were at the end of our disruption and home renovation after our ceiling collapse. But that was very temporary. I don't feel right when I'm not practicing and studying and teaching as much as I normally do. When I take a break, even for just a couple of days, a hunger to practice begins gnawing at me.

It is satisfying for me to see slight improvements in my movement and a bit more understanding of the body mechanics that make these arts powerful self-defense. That's why I keep studying and practicing. I have learned some high-quality Taiji during the past two years. If I had slowed down and if I had been satisfied with what I had already learned, I would have missed out on this additional knowledge. And I know that more knowledge and insight is coming. This is no time to stop!

Physically, I no longer can bang with my students like I used to. It disappoints me because I want to pad up and go at it. There comes a point when that ship sails, and at that point you get to find out what really drives you to study these arts.

For me, it is the satisfaction of seeking, finding, and learning quality, and being able to look at what I do with a constant critical evaluation of whether it is high quality. After 49 years, and after some serious health issues, I find that gaining knowledge in my arts is as important as the actual physical practice. I still work each day to improve my body mechanics and movement, and execute applications with those mechanics while upholding the principles of the art, but my physical capacity isn't what it was 20 years ago.  

I believe a martial arts teacher strikes gold when a student appears who loves the art as much as the teacher does. Students who come when it suits them or when they can fit it in are just not the same as the students who HAVE to be there because something inside compels them.to study.

If you are not compelled to study, if you don't NEED to be in class to practice and learn, then perhaps you picked the wrong hobby, because you see, it isn't that I WANT to study these arts. I have to study them. It's part of who I am. I recognized it 49 years ago and it is still true today.

Yesterday, I practiced with my students Colin Frye and Justin Snow. We practiced gun and knife defenses for more than 90 minutes. We didn't have the attitude that "this is the way we do it." We were riffing like martial jazz artists, brainstorming on more efficient and effective ways of defending yourself, flowing with the actions of the attacker while maintaining internal principles in your own movement. It was approaching each situation not with a scripted set of reactions but with a beginner's mind. As I enter my 50th year of martial arts practice, it was as satisfying as any practice I have had since that first night at the dojo so long ago. 

-- by Ken Gullette