It's been awhile since I posted anything to this group, so I thought
I'd share some of my thoughts about my ongoing training in Systema,
I've been considering Robert Poyton's advice from his 3-part article
series "Systema Training Tips" in the Bogatyr journal. You can
purchase Bogatyr here http://www.systemauk.com/bogatyr.htm and I
highly recommend it. I don't know of any other Systema journal in
English, so please help support Mr. Poyton' efforts and purchase back
issues or better yet, a subscription to this fine publication.
In the article, Mr. Poyton writes that during training, one must act
without any thought of result, except to protect oneself. This is a
very different way of viewing martial training, and it can be
difficult for beginners to accept this. It's almost the exact
opposite of how we would learn any other skill--whether it's music,
writing, sport, cooking, or almost anything else. During Systema
training, planning will never serve you, for as Martin Wheeler told
us, when you plan, you must follow your plan, even when the
circumstances change, and this approach will be disadvantageous if
you are under attack. We have many people who begin Systema classes
at Fighthouse, some remain, others move on. So I've had a chance to
observe many newcomers of late; when I first started, the class was
mostly veterans, but now it's rather the opposite. It's interesting
that many people are naturally relaxed, and can work without planning
or thought of result, whereas others are rigid and it takes a bit
more training to get used to this. As I am typing it, it seems a
strange and almost crazy way to practice martial skill, to not think
about the result beyond avoiding harm...who would imagine that this
is a highly effective way to protect yourself?
Another thing I've been considering is this flow state that is often
cited as a feeling that one has during slow sparring. I've
experienced this a few times, I wish I could more often. But I have
to be respectful of my partners, as well, and if they do not wish to
work this way, I cannot insist upon it. I've mentioned this before,
but I want to emphasize that I am not an ideal training partner, I
don't mean to point the finger at anyone else, just because I prefer
to work lightly. I am not sure how to handle aggression. Slow
sparring has to be an agreement between two people, when I attack
slowly, a few of my classmates just speed up and come at me as hard
and fast as possible. I never challenge my partners in any way, and I
am not aggressive, so it's not hard to hurt me. I wish these guys
could be content with just inflicting some discomfort rather than
kicking me in the kneecap or trying to wrench my arm from its socket.
It's funny, I don't mind if Systema teachers or advanced students
hurt me, because they do so without aggression, in fact, I would
venture that they do so from affection. But for some reason, the pain
inflicted by too-rough classmates feels different, I can't explain
why. I am sure that many feel I am too tentative and don't inflict
enough pain on my partners, so perhaps there is a happy medium
somewhere. But most of my classmates aren't like this, and hopefully
I can re-arrange my work schedule to avoid the classes that the rough
guys attend. Even so, I wish I could practice slow sparring
sometimes. I can't help but notice that in Systema clips and videos,
very advanced practitioners are moving slowly, and yet it's clear
that they are still challenging each other.
In addition to not thinking of the result of my action, and aspiring
toward slow sparring, I've also been working on getting comfortable
going to the ground. Once I am on the ground, I feel very relaxed,
and enjoy being attacked, since I'm already on the floor. But I have
trouble rolling. It's a psychological fear that I have to overcome.
My teacher has told us to "make friends with the floor" and that once
we are comfortable with the floor, it will change our lives. For me,
this represents a transition from beginner to intermediate
practitioner. At this point, I've had about 300 hours of training in
Systema, but until I get comfortable with rolling and falling, I
consider myself a beginner. And I believe that rolling and falling
easily are critical to mastery of the System—in fact, I tend to
consider those who roll and fall easily and fluidly the more advanced
students, regardless of how long they've trained or how they convey
their experience to others, those who tense up and flinch from
contact with the floor are, like myself, beginners in my humble
opinion.
I had a minor setback with falling after my injury; a few months ago,
walking with a cane and a giant splint on my right foot, I could not
go to the ground very easily--a fact which did not go unnoticed by
our guest teacher who was teaching our class while our own teacher
was in Tennessee training with Jim King. I felt so clumsy and awkward
trying to fall and I could feel my body tense and flinch in
expectation of pain. My teachers reminded me to be more fluid and
graceful as I hobbled around. I did feel extremely discouraged for a
while. As it says in the Guidebook, Systema skill cannot be taken
away while the practitioner is alive, and yet I found myself unable
to roll and fall the way I had been before my sprain. But
fortunately, I have almost recovered and also have recovered some of
my comfort with falling. It's not as easy as it was several months
ago, but I'm coming along and at some point, I expect to regain this
skill. And as I slowly recovered from the injury, the guest teacher,
who I felt was so critical of my clumsiness, was also quick to
compliment me on the improvement. Although he is free with criticism,
he is also free with praise. And he's endlessly optimistic about the
progress of his students. He has been one of the most influential of
my teachers, and I owe him a debt of gratitude. I would love for him
to return to New York and teach us again someday.
So, my falling has much improved, but rolling is still difficult for
me. I can roll easily from a kneeling position, but once my knees are
off the floor, if I'm on all fours, in a low squat, or standing, I am
afraid of rolling. It's not something I would ever do while sparring,
and that's definitely an obstacle to overcome.
I've found it very helpful to practice rolling on the beach. I don't
like the mats, I am not sure why, but they have a friction or "drag"
that sort of bothers me. I feel sore the next day if we've worked on
the mats. But the soft sand is perfect (you do get a lot of sand in
your hair and your ears, but it's a small price to pay for learning).
On the sand, I can roll in ways that I am still afraid to do on the
hardwood floor: run and dive into a roll, roll from any position,
have my friend push me into a roll, and so forth. It's extremely
helpful in overcoming the psychological fear barrier. After Systema
class, I try to spend a few minutes practicing rolling on the floor.
My apartment is so tiny, it can be a challenge to do this at home.
Grassy areas in the park are also good for practicing rolling.
Yesterday in class we practiced a roll where you start flat on the
ground on your stomach, draw yourself up like an inchworm, and roll
forward. I couldn't even begin to do this, I just had no idea how to
move to accomplish it, but after class I tried again, and though it
wasn't very graceful, I did figure out the dynamics behind rolling
this way. I spend every weekend in the park or at the beach, working
on falling and rolling, particularly from a standing or all-fours
position without my knees touching the ground.
Very often, fear is caused by the unknown outcome. While I am afraid
to roll from a standing position, fear causes tension in my body,
which leads to discomfort during the roll. To lose the fear will mean
less tension, and rolling will no longer be uncomfortable. The two
things are inter-related, to get comfortable with the floor, you
cannot be afraid of it, but to lose your fear, you have to be
comfortable with the floor.
So that's what I've been working on of late. As my mom always reminds
me, I try not to gauge my progress by thinking of how I was last
week, but rather six months ago, and I have come a long way. But the
most exciting aspect of my training is that the road ahead is
infinite.
*Vsego nailuchshego* (best wishes),
Rachel