How I learned to flow Like Water 

As a dedicated martial artist, I realized after several years of training in what some would define as the “old way” of karate, that there was an element missing. As I moved up through the ranks, the training was almost exclusively focused on hard-hitting, strong movements. This was true whether we were working kata, kihon, solo drills, or even partner drills: everything was about power.

While this worked from white to brown belt, a paradigm shift began to occur during the time frame I was being taught the multitude of kata. A paradigm is essentially a roadmap of how things are understood or related to. Over time, through growth and understanding, the roadmap changes, and a shift occurs. I recall the exact moment when this occurred with me.

I was alone on the dojo floor working Naihanchi Sandan, our third kata. I was a brown belt and had already learned the majority of the kata. As I was running through the kata for the nth time, the first 10 or so moves felt different. I was somewhat exhausted from the countless number of reps I had already run through, and as a result, I wasn’t executing every nuance of the kata with maximum power and intensity. Instead, I became more fluid in my movement. When I was done with the entire kata, I did it again and again to retain the feel of what was happening.

I had heard Sensei David Colaizzi repeat the idea of flowing like water, a concept he had learned from Sensei Tadashi Yamashita. I wondered if this feeling I had found in Naihanchi Sandan was that of flowing like water. I decided that my movements would be based on this feeling I found, and I started to apply the feeling to the Pinan katas, the Passai kata, the Kusanku katas, and to Chinto. Experimenting with this has taken years to grasp and apply.

To understand how to flow, I needed to understand how water flows. If I were a cup and I tried to move full of water, the water would splash out, and it would actually act as a counterweight to my movements. Sensei David would use the analogy of a wave, how it builds power, crests, and then crashes. On camping trips, I would observe the streams and how the water would easily move along the path, around the rocks. It was at one of these moments, sitting in the Blue Ridge Mountains, that I realized that for water to flow, whether in a river or on a wave in the ocean, forces had to act upon the water. These forces are gravity, the bed (ocean floor or stream bed), the various rocks, branches, and other obstructions, and the shoreline or bank. There are many other forces as well.

I stepped back, found a clearing, and started to work Naihanchi Sandan.

On the bank of the stream, I ran through Naihanchi Sandan hard and strong as I had been taught. Then I ran through it again with the flowing feeling I had felt, each punch, block, etc. was hard but only for an instance. I stopped thinking about the individual moves and started to be mindful of the movements involved in execution: timing, gravity, speed, breathing, flexing, balance, and the uneven ground. My kata was affected by seen forces, just like the water in the stream or ocean. I had a choice: continue training the way I was originally taught or to pursue this new way of moving. I chose the latter.

Just as the stream is affected by external and unseen forces, so are our kata. I call these our concepts, and each of these concepts needs to be studied and understood. “Studying kata” is not running through kata 100 times and focusing on placing the punch in the perfect place or making the block eye height. To study kata is to study how the concepts interact with the movements in the kata.

How is speed created, controlled, and utilized? How does speed interact with timing? How do timing and speed interact with flexing and pulling of muscle groups? This thought process can become quite in-depth and becomes a symphony when learned and applied.

Yin and Yang

The martial arts are a study of opposing forces. In nature, we see this principle at work in the river, where rocks redirect the flow of water, and the shore line acts to create waves. These forces provide the water with direction and purpose.

In karate, we can apply this principle to our own movements. If we are skilled in the hard style of karate, we can use our strength and power to overwhelm our opponent. But if our opponent is equally skilled, they can use soft techniques to redirect our attacks and turn our own momentum against us.

The hard style of karate is often characterized by its direct and forceful attacks. It is like a rock thrown into a stream, disrupting the flow of water and causing a great splash. The soft style of karate, on the other hand, is more fluid and adaptable. It is like water flowing around a rock, finding its own way around the obstacle.

The most effective karateka is the one who can master both the hard and soft styles. They are able to use their strength and power when necessary, but they are also able to be fluid and adaptable. They are like water, which can be both gentle and destructive.

This dynamic approach to karate is essential for success in both competition and self-defense. In competition, it allows us to defeat opponents who may be stronger or faster than us. In self-defense, it allows us to respond to any attack, regardless of the style of the attacker.