An Interview with Hapkido Grandmaster James R. Garrison
by Dick Morgan
The following interview was published by courtesy of James R. Garrison.
Copyright James R. Garrison. All rights reserved. No part of this interview may be used or reproduced for any reason by any means without written permission.
Dick Morgan: You were recently promoted to 9th degree (October, 1997) by Grandmaster Kim, Sang Cook, the man who is generally considered by those in a position to know as the number-one man in Hapkido in the world today. What is your perspective on this honor?
James R. Garrison: My impression of promotion, particularly at that level, is that it is an acknowledgement of the relationship that he and I have that has gone on for almost 30 years. To answer the question, I have to go back to my first experiences with him, particularly my experiences travelling with him in Korea, where I was exposed for the first time to real leadership in the martial arts. The senior martial arts people in Korea all not only respected Mr. Kim, but they were also very solicitous and interested in his council and the direction he envisioned for us, not only as martial artists, but as people just experiencing life. When we look at promotions and at rank, we tend to focus on the technical aspects of the art and the level of understanding of those technical aspects. Mr. Kim has guided me towards understanding this, but also understanding the priciples behind the technical aspects, and the understanding of how to better teach these; and somewhere along the line, he has made me realize that there is a larger, philosophical position which incorporates all of this into a way of life. I didn't know any of this before I met Mr. Kim, and he was already at that level 30 years ago. So, what he has done by saying 'you're promoted' is to say, you have a responsibility to pass along this understanding in its fullest degree to your students and to the community at large.
DM: I wanted to ask you about the unusual manner in which your promotion occured, when Mr. Kim walked up to you in the middle of a seminar and simply said, 'Here's your upgrade,' handed you the certificate for 9th degree, and walked away. Would you discuss his sensibilities, and why he would handle it this way? Did you know that you were going to be promoted?
JRG: I had no idea that he was going to promote me. I was just glad that he came to the seminar so that other members of the World Oriental Martial Arts Federation from around the U.S. could meet him. The promotion was the last thing on my mind. I had assumed that my 8th degree promotion, which I received when I was with him in Korea, was to be the last one. But the thing that Mr. Kim was the most excited about was that another Mr. Kim who is very prominent in Korea in Hapkido came to the seminar with him, and they brought a plaque from the association that said in effect, 'you've been an important part of the association, and a diligent student, you've come a long way, and thank you very much' and he was far more excited about presenting the plaque than he was about the promotion. The plaque was very personal, from his heart, and I think that was where his energy was. His position on promotion was that if he recommended me for promotion, the board of directors of the association would have to go along with it because of his position. So he has never recommended me for promotion because he didn't want to influence the outcome. He has always let the board of directors decide. If they wanted to promote me, that was fine, or if not, that was fine, too. It wasn't a personal thing to him. And anyway, since Hapkido is ultimately an internal growth system, the higher the rank, the tradition has been the less ceremony there is receiving it. Rank never has been much of an issue with Mr. Kim; it's more about relationship. Consequently, nothing has really changed for me. Nothing is really different than when I was an 8th degree, or a 7th degree. Mr. Kim is still my teacher, and we are still friends.
DM: When you say that rank was never much of an issue with Mr. Kim, would you say that this viewpoint is unique, or is this a more typical viewpoint in Korea? What are some of your personal views on the importance of rank?
JRG: I think that rank has far less importance to martial artists in Korea than it does in the United States. So much importance has been placed on rank worldwide that there has come to be some dishonesty in rank acquisition. If you have enough money, you can be any rank you want. So many organizations make their money by selling rank for profit, that everywhere, people in the martial arts are beginning to mistrust rank in general. This is especially true in Korea, where the martial arts are a central part of the culture. For years, Korean martial artists haven't been impressed much by rank. They just want to know who a person has practiced with, and for how long. That tells them what they need to know about that person. A Korean will say, who cares what rank he is-- what does he know?
DM: It doesn't bother you that there are a lot of 8th and 9th degree black belts around the U.S. who are under 40 years old?
JRG: It used to bother me because I knew that in most cases this is impossible, but Mr. Kim and I have talked about this at length, and one of the things he has said is that this kind of thing doesn't happen in Korea very often. In Korea, if somebody says that they have mastered a certain style or system, then other people in that system are going to expect that at some point, that person is going to have to prove it on the mat. And if somebody claims to have developed a new kind of scientific martial art that's better than anybody else's, then everybody is going to want them to prove it. At some point, the talking and the bragging and the posturing ends, and the reality has to fit the claim. I have seen this approach in Korea work for 30 years, and it no longer bothers me what anybody claims or does not claim. My relationships with other people are more reality-based. In Korea, you not only have to be able to defend your position on your new martial art, but you also have to explain why it would be better. But in the U.S., in the '90's, this kind of confrontation is very rare, and people don't have to prove their claims very often. So people think that attaining the rank is the goal, not perfecting the art. A common idea here is that more is better, so people think that if you have a high rank, you must be a better teacher. Just like in theory, if you have a PhD, you're a better teacher than if you don't, which has never been proven as a fact. Now we have people doing the same thing with ill-gotten PhDs that has been happening with undeserved black belts. So I think that more and more, people are starting to look around, starting to not be dissuaded by high rank so much as they are just looking for good teachers. People are more skeptical of inflated claims such as world champion, 15th patriarch, enlightened deep in the forest and come down from the mountaintop to help the rest of us. They just want to learn from somebody who has a grasp of the total package of what the martial arts has to offer.
DM: What do you mean by "total package"?
JRG: I mean that the martial arts are intended to be a total mind, body, spirit discipline, not just various forms of bare knuckle fighting. A martial art must be a complete package where you learn about patience, and compassion, and respect, and awareness. Martial art was not ever intended to be a sport, like boxing, which is only about winning and losing within a certain rule matrix. People get trapped into thinking that highly publicized, no holds barred tough-man events in which biggest is best represents the martial arts, but a real martial art teaches you how to use your brain first. Serious, long time martial artists most likely would have nothing to do with such theatrics, because they make no sense. You're not mad at them, they're not mad at you, why bother? It's an artificial format, not real life. Martial art is about living life in a realistic, thoughtful, respectful, and aware way. It's about how to handle confrontation in the most graceful manner. If an awkward or violent situation can be avoided, a true warrior would do so. If a violent situation is eminent, a warrior will first use his brain to try and resolve the situation peacefully. If that isn't possible, then he will use his skills to bring about the least amount of damage to the least amount of people. A warrior has to be successful at being a person first.
DM: You use the word warrior as though it has a positive connotation, yet the word is hard to define in present day terms. In past generations, being a warrior meant being someone skilled at, or at least experienced at, warfare. But in the present day, the mechanisms of war have become so horrific that the term warrior, in order to have any positive value, begs for new meaning. Would you clarify how you are intending the word warrior to be understood?
JRG: Good question. When I use the term warrior, I am referring to a way of living one's life that seems to evolve from following a martial tradition over a long period of time. At some point in one's martial training, one comes to realize that successful training depends on much more than just showing up for class and looking good. Progress in the martial arts depends on how personal the training becomes-- how we internalize the lessons we learn. I mean by that that a person cannot reach a level of martial efficiency by physical practice alone. He or she must also evolve mentally, emotionally, and spiritually as well. The idea is to turn oneself into not only a technically trained individual, but a mentally alert, emotionally balanced, ethically guided individual. The term warrior implies more than anything else, purposeful living--living in such a way as to be congruent with your intent. It is beyond violence or warfare. We just live a life that is ruled by our belief system, which is we train hard and we lead a healthy life, and we do the best we can for our community
DM: So you are saying that Hapkido, which is the art that you teach, is not just about fighting?
JRG: My original training was in Judo. Then I also trained in Jujitsu, Aikido, and TaeKwonDo. I had trained for over 10 years before I met Mr. Kim, and I've trained with him now almost 30 years. When you say Hapkido is the art I teach, that is true, but we also teach Judo, Aikido, Jujitsu and TaeKwonDo at Pacific Rim [Martial Arts Academy]. Hapkido, as a technical approach is a separate art; but Hapkido as a philosophy, as a way of life, does not differ much in any of those arts. To answer the question, Hapkido is about the principles of effective conflict resolution. Fighting is only one of the alternatives, and way down on the list of priorities.
DM: What is at the top of the list then?
JRG: Well, I am involved in some sport activities that are not martial oriented. I have been recently appointed as a mediating negotiator, which means that if someone in that sport has a problem with a judge or with the outcome of an event, then I am the one who gets called in to do the mediating. However, the history of that particular sport is that there have been people who punch judges, who threaten them, who have periodically gone ballistic. The underlying hope is that if this were to happen, then I would also act as a physical mediator, which would probably be to control the violent part of the event. So the priority list we spoke of works like this: One, the hope is that nothing like this happens, but two, anything volatile that does happen can hopefully be controlled through mediation, and three, if there is physical stuff, then it becomes my job to see that nobody gets hurt, and four, if somebody has to get hurt, then well, it's not going to be one of the judges. So the physical part becomes a last priority, a last resort. This is specifically what I teach when I teach communication skills to police officers-- how do you talk to someone in such a way that you don't have to get into a confrontation with them? But if someone they are talking to is capable of violence, they need to be able to perceive that possibility ahead of time. If someone pulls a gun, the time to be aware of that is before it happens.
DM: So really, perception precedes violence?
JRG: Perception precedes everything. During mediation, my thought is, we are here to mediate. But my consciousness is that though I am here to just facilitate mediation, mediation may not be all that I have to deal with here, and I also need to be prepared for some alternatives, as opposed to just thinking mediation procedures, and then being surprised if it doesn't work.
DM: I understand the dynamics of how to teach physical technique, but how do you teach perception? What are the dynamics of that?
JRG: You consistently demand that your students pay attention, all the time. You continually challenge their level of awareness. I was talking about an example of this a few nights ago in Aikido class. What I said was that in Aikido, Ueshiba would scold his uke if they didn't know, by something that he projected, which technique he wanted to work on. And as far back as 20 years ago, I began saying the same thing to my black belts. My expectation is that black belts should automatically know which person that I plan on demonstrating a technique with, without my having to point to them, or nod, or whatever. My job, and the uke's job, is to be paying close enough attention so as to always know what is going on. The black belts should know who is going to be chosen to be uke, what technique is going to be demonstrated, and automatically know how to attack for that demonstration. What we stress, almost from the time a person walks in the front door and learns the very first basics, is raising the levels of perception. How the body moves, how a person grabs, how to feel another person's energy, and how to blend with it and adapt to it, and change as it changes. You gear to physical learning first, and then you incorporate that kind of emotional contact learning next. This is an ongoing process; you train this way all the time.
DM: One of the black belts and I were talking earlier about the fact that a lot of the rules of protocol and respect in the martial arts- especially here at Pacific Rim [Martial Arts Academy] are not written down. There are rules of behavior, rules of bowing, of reactivity and being connected that aren't clearly marked out or even explained. While other clubs may have very specific rules all written out and posted by the entrance to the dojang, you choose not to do that. Is this your particular teaching style, or is this particular to the art of Hapkido itself?
JRG: This is related to the kind of emotional contact learning I spoke of earlier. My expectation is that students will learn over time how to act by paying attention. You can have twenty rules written down, and you can memorize every word and every comma in them, but when you get to the twenty-first situation, it doesn't help you. But if you know that the basic tenets of Hapkido are right behavior, courtesy, respect, and patience, then over time and by experiencing how advanced belts incorporate these tenets into all their actions, you pick it up situation by situation. Eventually, you arrive at a place where you not only know what to do in known situations, but even when the situation is something you have never seen before, you know how to act because you are practiced in dealing with subtle social interactions from some kind of central guiding principles, from the heart, by staying connected emotionally. This is the way Hapkido is taught. And it is the same with teaching technique. You don't have to learn 1,265 different techniques. What you learn are the principles behind how technique works. If you know the dynamics of the principles, then maybe you know ten thousand techniques- who knows? You don't know until you need them. And then, hopefully, the technique will happen automatically because you have learned how to pay attention to the present situation, and not a bunch of static situations, or rules formulated 20 years ago. The principles of movement, and of respect, emotional connection, and spiritual unity are all assimilated by experience, over time. If you have to write down rules of respect, then it's already bureaucratic instead of functional. People will obey only those rules, or they will test them by seeing if they can break the spirit of the rule without breaking the rule itself. They think, 'you can't get me because I know the rules.' Or they want to know the rules so they can be 'one up' on somebody who doesn't know the rules. But this relationship with rules shuts off learning. But if you train yourself to be moral and ethical and you live your life based on knowing that you are doing the best you can within that framework, then that is the self-examined, purposeful living, the warrior stance that we talked about before. If you don't set standards for yourself, then you are free to do whatever you want, even if it's illegal. That kind of person is always looking for loopholes, and making up excuses for his behavior if the spotlight suddenly shifts his way. The warrior's way is a conscious, integrated intent to live a certain way, and his actions should always support that way. The warrior examines his own behavior to that end. And that's why everything is realized by perception, and not memorized by rule.
DM: But when you talk about morals and ethics, you're using words that mean different things to different people.
JRG: Yes, this is true. I know what I mean by moral and ethical, although that's just my own definition. But the more we stay emotionally connected as a group, say a practice group, the more the terms moral and ethical evolve into a common meaning. Of course there have always been people who are warriors who prefer to be alone-- Musashi was a complete recluse, yet struggled to define his own code of behavior in The Book of Five Rings. And Mr. Kim is this way; he lives by the rules that he sets for himself, and he is comfortable with his own rules, and honors them, and so he can trust his own behavior. And he doesn't get himself into situations in which he has to defend or define his lifestyle. I'll give you an example. I have been working on a book about the development of Hapkido within the history of the Korean martial arts for a very long time, and I wanted Mr. Kim to tell me, to give me permission to write the specifics of exactly who did what, where, and when, especially in regard to the early years of Hapkido development. And he said he didn't want me to do that. I can do generalities, and idea concepts, but he said he wouldn't help me with specific chronological order. When I asked why, he said, because then somebody would say, oh, no, he's not telling the truth; this is the way it really was. He said, he wouldn't be put in a position to have to defend a bunch of documents. If people are interested, they will find the truth. And if they are not interested, they will make up their own version of the truth anyway. He doesn't want to be involved in any of that. I have tried to honor his decision, but in terms of being a teacher and a writer, it's an ongoing nightmare. But I understand that it is my job to present Hapkido as an ongoing, constantly evolving experience and not as a cold and stagnant history lesson.
DM: How do you teach an art that is constantly changing? Surely Hapkido must have some fundamentals, some basics that don't change, or else how can it be learned at all?
JRG: There are really two questions there; I'll try to answer the second one first. I never said that Hapkido had no fundamentals or basics. Of course it does. And it has it's own history as well. But while we teach basic defense techniques from the very first, by the time a person gets to brown belt, they know that there is more to the art than technique. By that time, they begin to be aware that they are trained not only in the techniques they have learned, but they are also trained behaviorally, verbally, attitudinally, and emotionally, through the structure of how the art is taught. That is, they have been exposed to information about ethical behavior, about proper breathing, about ki energy, and how all of these things affect a person's whole life. They have seen the influence these principles have by role modeling- both by myself and by my black belts. Everybody who stays in the art for any length of time, to this level, practices pretty much the same kind of ideals and belief system as best they can. Ueshiba talked about 10 years; after 10 years, you become your art, if you have really been serious about it. The basics you are referring to are really as much about living life as they are about self defense. As for the first part of the question, any art that has any credibility and validity cannot remain stagnant. Judo has changed, Aikido has changed, even though the basics remain the same, the fundamentals are taught the same. But because people are looking at things from a different perspective, or they have changed physically as they have aged, or their intention has expanded or evolved, the nature of the art expands and evolves as they do. As people's perspectives expand, and their philosophy gets deeper and they internalize the art more, there are more possibilities within the art. I've said this many times before- I can tell, particularly with Hapkido instructors, at what level they stopped training, or what level their teacher stopped training. What happens is they quit expanding, they quit growing with the art, and the art stops. Students who train under this kind of a teacher are always going to be stopping short of where their teacher stopped training, and thus stopping short of their own potential. A teacher has a moral and ethical obligation to provide a full spectrum of what martial art is, not just a very narrow, incomplete, unfinished picture. Which is, unfortunately, often what happens.
DM: What motivation does a teacher have to continue to evolve? You reach a point where you have enough knowledge to teach 99.9% of all the people who come to you for training, even though some of your black belts have been with you 20 years. What motivates you to continue training?
JRG: Whatever the initial reason one begins to train, if there is a real, emotional, personal connection to the art and the person begins to incorporate the art into their life, then the realization is that the art is endless. So the quest for internal growth- and maybe internal strength as well- never goes away. We see people like Billy Graham and others who are still researching their own bliss, well past any congregation's ability to understand it. But they are doing it for their own growth. It's the same with my practice, or Mr. Kim's practice; we practice whether we have students or not. We are not practicing for the accolades of the students. I practice every day on my own, outside of the dojang setting, and have for the past 40 years. Having students and being famous is not the object of the art. Making money is not the object of the art. Your own growth is the object of the art. And after a certain point, these long time black belts you mentioned understand this. We have some of them who like to get together on Sundays for their own practice, and they don't need me to be there to pat them on the back and I don't need their accolades. I'm just glad they're enthused about it for their own learning. They get together by themselves and sometimes they just practice basic moves, and sometimes they just beat the stuffings out of one another. What they are learning is that a punch or a kick is one thing in practice with lower belts, another thing in a serious sparring match, and by extension, still another thing on the street. In a real situation. They are attempting to make it as real as possible without getting hurt, and they are doing it on their own for their own growth. This is how the art lives and grows within them.
DM: It seems that this viewpoint- that is, the attempt to make the art as real as possible- must not be unique to Hapkido, yet Hapkido is experiencing a rapidly increasing popularity because of its realism, and because of its versatility, particularly among those who practice TaeKwonDo. Many martial artists from other martial systems are wanting to be instructed in Hapkido. Why is this?
JRG: Well, I can best explain this phenomenon by talking about the TaeKwonDo people I've met. TaekwonDo has had it's own evolutions, and now there is a major split between TaeKwonDo as a self defense and TaeKwonDo as a competition sport. Most of the TaeKwonDo we see in the U.S. is learned, and taught as, a sport- a non-contact or light-contact competitive event. That concept has lost some of its martial aspects, some of its completeness. It's basics are different. The way people train is different. Kicking has changed, punching has changed mostly to score a point instead of knocking somebody down so that they stay down. As long as these non-contact people stick to practicing their art within the tournament context- particularly within tournaments where all the participants train the same and compete under the same rules, then they will be okay, and have lots of fun. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but it must be understood in the context of what it is. If these same people want to think that they are practicing real self defense and they want to spar with somebody that practices martial art as a self defense, then sooner or later, they are going to be embarrassed. Many long time practitioners of this kind of training are beginning to see this discrepancy, and they are saying to themselves, where do we go from here? Hapkido is a natural choice for them. On the other hand, we have isolated pockets of people who practice the old style TaeKwonDo in its martial form who are beginning to evolve with the times as well. In this present day and age, you cannot throw a devastating punch or kick at somebody when a grab or control technique would be more appropriate. For example, if you are a good, say, 4th degree ChungDoKwon TaeKwonDo person and somebody grabs you, and you do what good ChungDoKwon people are trained to do which is to level them with a punch or a kick, you could be in some serious legal trouble. If it is proven that this other person was just some drunk needing to be escorted to another location, then you need to know how to be able to do that without permanently injuring that person. If the attack is more serious, or there is a weapon involved, then you need to have lots of different options for defense. Hapkido is a perfect evolution for those kind of martial artists as well. And these people, the ones who have kept their martial traditions and attitudes, have an easier transition than the sport TaeKwonDo people who have just trained for competition, because those people have to learn their basics all over again.
DM: Aren't all basics pretty much the same?
JRG: Not only are they not the same, the manner in which they are taught is not the same. I read all the time about people who try to teach martial arts in a static movement sense-- you do this technique and that technique, and you have this many techniques required for this belt level, and you do them by steps: 1-2-3-4. Hapkido was never meant to be static. You need to be able to think on your feet, as opposed to, "grab me here, and now I'll do this". Hapkido cannot be learned that way. Hapkido is a moving, living, breathing martial art that evolves all the time. You learn it experientially, by becoming sensitized to changes in distance, in timing, in movement, and in balance. You learn it by paying attention to subtle changes in the relationship you establish with your training partner. You learn to read their energy, and you learn to focus your own. An example of this would be to watch two tournament style TaeKwonDo artists spar. Whatever level they are at, the tendency is for these kind of fighters to maintain a certain distance. The better they are at kicking, the more they will try to stay at the optimum kicking distance from each other. What Hapkido teaches is that if somebody wants to be at a distance, then probably the most efficient way to deal with them is for you to get in close. And if they want to be in close, then you create a distance, or, if you're better at being in close than they are, then you get in close first. The strategy is as flexible as it needs to be, dictated by the particular situation, not by style. It is much more versatile than someone who is only comfortable at the distance of punching or kicking, or someone who only wants to grab you but isn't much of a kicker or puncher. If they want to grab you, that must mean they have a lot of confidence in grabbing, and maybe they are better at that than you are, and you try to counter that, neutralize that with punches, kicks, or by creating an angular advantage. We try to teach strategic awareness. The options are as endless as the situations that can be created, and you learn by dealing with them in a real way. No technique is ever done exactly the same way twice. That's why training itself is endless; you are not just learning techniques, you are learning the ever increasing subtleties of relationship.
DM: You mentioned that a goal of Hapkido training is to "read your opponent's energy." This is a very esoteric concept, and a lot of times it's not understood very well, especially by lower belt ranks. It seems like the harder you try to understand it intellectually, the less able you are to deal with it, or incorporate it into your own learning. But after awhile, after lots and lots of training, you begin to pick it up from your own experience. That seems to be the way you prefer to teach.
JRG: I don't think there is any other way to learn it. It's not an intellectual exercise. It's not just some kind of behavioral trained routine. That's why it takes a long time in this kind of training to be proficient, because there's a lot of repetition, a lot of repetitive information, and a lot of exercises where it has to do with just that experiential kind of contact. Ultimately, the goal is to become like some of these instructors who, like Mr. Kim, there are lots of times when it's like he can read your mind. He can respond to you before you even know what you are going to do, and when you respond to him, he's already one step ahead. That comes from not just knowing you personally, but from training for years and years, for a lifetime. He can feel what's going on because he does it with an open mind. He has transcended the level of, "I'm waiting for you to punch and then I'm going to do my technique". It's more like, "I'm waiting to experience what's going on with you, and then whatever it is you do, I have the confidence to respond to it". When we look at the martial arts historically, at renowned instructors, founders of systems, those people that have written books about their art, like Kano or Mifune in Judo, or Ueshiba in Aikido, these people appeared almost telepathic in their abilities. But it's really about being totally focused in on each person and not worrying about your technique. The conscious attempt of an advanced martial artist is to be totally connected with his practice partner.
DM: I've heard it said that learning technique is not the real art, that learning technique is just a gateway to the real art. This seems to be true in what you are saying, but if teaching technique is what we do, then how are we teaching the real art? It's like some kind of Zen puzzle. How can students relate to such a statement?
JRG: Many people have inferred that Zen itself evolved through the medium of the martial arts. But to address the question, The real art is about learning how to live a conscious, controlled, alert, chosen path in life. What we are training in, ultimately, is intention. If the focus of learning is on technique, then the ability to apply that technique in other than school situations is limited. If the student realizes that the technique is a metaphor for additional life experiences, that the technique is secondary to the person, that technique itself varies with life experiences, then the training becomes more versatile. Sometimes it's more intense, sometimes less. Sometimes it's in movement, sometimes it's in words. Sometimes the instructor will change the basics, or the patterns, or the testing procedures, or the way you line up in class, or even the way you breathe. The idea is to wake up your mind to the moment, whether or not you understand what is going on. The instructor has a reason for what he does, and the students have to trust the information that the instructor is giving them. The idea is for the instructor to help the student find where his physical and psychological limits are, and to push those limits on a consistent basis and in a safe and healthy manner, so that the students can understand that they are more capable than they think they are. If a student is always asking himself, "why is the teacher doing this?" then that student doesn't trust his teacher enough to learn properly. It is the instructor's job to lead an exemplary life and to teach in a consistent manner so that the students can put their complete trust in him. The rest is up to the students; if they can't trust that the information they are receiving is for their benefit, then they need to find another teacher.
DM: In addition to teaching several nights a week at your own dojang, Pacific Rim, you also teach at World Oriental Martial Arts Federation seminars that attract large numbers of martial artists from across the United States. Some of these are very good students, and I have met several good friends from among these people. But there have been those who didn't come with this open mind that you spoke of, who didn't exhibit this level of trust in the material they were presented with. Some even seem to come with their own agenda in mind, such as only seeking promotion, or to show off their expertise. How do you deal with this when it happens?
JRG: There are always going to be people like that. When you read martial art history, you realize we have had this predicament forever. There will always be people who take bits and pieces of a martial art and say this is what it is, and I'm an expert at this. Martial art history itself is recorded by people who do this. Of course people who take short cuts and make up things is upsetting, but Mr. Kim has said to me that we have to learn that there are people who just do this, and to just not get wrapped up in that part. We try not to have a lot of personal ego invested. It's not about us as teachers, it's about the art itself; how does the technique work in a variety of situations and in life? The tragedy is that with these people, not only has their learning stopped, but they sometimes interfere with the learning of people who are training alongside of them, particularly people who are much lower rank than they are. How we have to deal with that depends on who they are and what they need to break through to their learning process. If I don't know them- say they've just come here to test- then we run through a number of theories of attacks and counters, and eventually the person will realize that that they just don't get it, that they aren't done with their learning yet. If they just continue doing the same things as if they were doing just smashingly, then we introduce counters. Then every technique they do where they aren't following the fundamentals of good basics, good grounding, good centering, good timing, they just get punched, kicked, or thrown down. And somewhere along the line if they are at all verbal, we may ask if they are learning something. And if not, we just continue to do this for awhile until it becomes obvious that if they want to learn how to do it, they are going to have to train with us for awhile, and that's fine with us. But most of them don't.
DM: What kind of person are you finding is attracted to the training you provide through these W.O.M.A.F. seminars? What kind of person is likely to go away feeling like they have gained something as opposed to someone like we just talked about, who would probably go away feeling disappointed, or frustrated?
JRG: I think a lot of people have come through W.O.M.A.F. for a lot of different reasons, and from a lot of different backgrounds. But the ones who stay tend to be intellectually inquisitive, curious and open-minded; their martial arts training is more of a growth experience and development stage than it is some kind of ego experience. Mostly they are not interest in making a lot of money or being famous so much as they are interested in their own personal journey of martial arts training, learning how it all works and how to put it together, and then being able to physically do it. The people who stay usually already understand their own personal power; they have a life that is already fairly substantial and strong and healthy, and they see that to continue their learning in the martial arts will enhance that. The ones who don't stay tend to be those people who live and breathe the martial arts to such a degree that it becomes their whole identity. They want to be 8th or 9th degree because then they will be somebody, and these people never stay long at W.O.M.A.F. because they are more interested in showing people how much they know as opposed to trying to learn something.
DM: You stated that people are coming to W.O.M.A.F. from a variety of different backgrounds; I assume you mean a variety of different martial arts systems and traditions. Do you see a general convergence of martial systems? Is there a coming together of all martial training into some future singular, over-all martial art tradition? What do you foresee as the future of martial arts?
JRG: That is a very multi-layered question. As to the first part, I can address it this way. I talked to somebody earlier today who is a well-known TaeKwonDo person who has altered his training program because of W.O.M.A.F., and has added falling and some throwing, and some other basic Hapkido grabs, but his intention is to keep his TaeKwonDo program intact. He has added some of the Hapkido principles that he feels have increased his students' competitiveness, awareness, and sensitivity, but he has not decided yet whether he will introduce a separate Hapkido program that people can take if they are interested in learning further in that direction. That is a very typical influence that we are seeing. I've talked with Judo people, and with Aikido people who are relating to Hapkido in the same sort of way. Hapkido can influence people in other art forms, and help them understand their own basics in a clearer way by looking at them in a different way. As people start to get less protective of their own art and more aware of a variety of arts, and what exposure to a variety of arts can do to enhance their own program, Hapkido seems to be at the top of that list. It's the same thing with us here at Pacific Rim; we have Aikido people come here and give seminars, and Judo people, Jujitsu people, even Kenpo people have been here-- and we learn from them, and they help us to look at how we do our Hapkido from another perspective, but our basic Hapkido doesn't change. In fact, since Hapkido is the complete martial package that it is, I see Hapkido changing less to accommodate other perspectives than I see other arts changing to accommodate the Hapkido perspective. But overall, it is not the intention of anybody I have talked to, least of all the intention of our Hapkido program, to develop one dominant martial art. I see Hapkido as being a major influence, but not becoming authoritarian or domineering. That would be arrogant. As to the second part of the question, what I see evolving is not so much of a convergence or divergence of techniques or martial systems so much as a way of approaching practice itself. As belt rank becomes less and less important, and as people prefer to be promoted for achievement instead of some less legitimate reason, the focus of practice changes. Then, it's not what rank do I aspire to, but how do I make this work? At this point, practice becomes free of external influence. It becomes incorporated, or internalized to the point of being ego-free. It is the end point of any martial artist's development to reach a stage of ego-less practice. Then one becomes a part of a practice group-- a shared experience, a shared consciousness, if you will. This is the ultimate goal of the emotional training that we talked about earlier. It is at this point that we can trust one another enough, being free from non-practice agendas, to practice deadly technique. Then the true martial nature of the art can be approached safely, as it should be--as it used to be, before rank came so quickly. Those young masters we spoke of, who are 8th and 9th dans before they are thirty-five do not have a clue as to what they have missed out on. But those who learn how to "go back to the beginning", who continually refresh their memories of the basics, not only of movement and technique but of the philosophy and ethical tenets of their art, those who learn how to continually renew their commitment to their art with ever increasing awareness, these are the students from whom will emerge tomorrow's true masters, no matter what martial art they study.
DM: Thank you very much.
JRG: You're welcome.