Laurence Brahm and martial arts as kinetic meditation
Appreciated as a martial art, boxing is meditative, strategic striking
I took up boxing over the past couple of months or so. The gym I train at is Verano Boxing Club, a fantastic gym in the trendy area of Sai Ying Pun at the western side of Hong Kong Island. Aside from the friendly but no-nonsense fighters’ atmosphere (the gym has trained several competitive boxers), the walls of the club are also festooned with some fantastic posters - in one corner there’s a movie poster of Creed III, with Michael B. Jordan and Jonathan Majors staring each other down. Near the club’s boxing ring, there’s also a really cool poster of Bruce Lee, with his famous saying: “Empty your mind. Be formless, shapeless, like water.”
Like Bruce Lee, I believe firmly that the warrior elevates - or embarrasses - the martial art. It doesn’t matter which style you practice, or at least, you need to understand yourself as part of the martial arts journey. In my case, I was a mid-level karateka in the Goju-ryu (an Okinawan lineage) karate tradition. My best friend, whom I grew up with, has long surpassed me in this respect and is a black belt wearing sensei with his own dojo. Many years since I put down my karate gi, I’m proud that I stay in occasional touch with not only him but our karate sensei (who gave approval for my buddy to teach). In the meantime, I currently prefer training in boxing for the moment as I continue my career and work in Hong Kong.
I admire the pure focus boxing puts on punching and avoiding punches. I always had more affinity with the striking arts over grappling counterparts, like Brazilian Jiu-jitsu. But as the Bruce Lee poster says, within the rules and restrictions of boxing, the relatively few and straightforward “forms” of boxing - the jab, cross, hook, uppercut (along with defensive techniques like slipping, bobbing and weaving, and so on) - actually become a myriad of endless combos and seamless sequences that, when executed by a decent pugilist, can be simply beautiful. And, of course, the real test is in the exchange of techniques, even if it’s in a non-competitive context like sparring. Hence boxing is the “sweet science,” and why it’s not only a gentleman’s fighting art, but one that Bruce Lee himself admired and incorporated into Jeet Kune Do.
As boxing gradually becomes “my sport” (in Australia, it’s more common to ask a new acquaintance what sport they do even before what job they have, which I find refreshing), I cannot help but think of Laurence Brahm. Filmmaker, entrepreneur, and alternative music producer, Laurence wears many hats. But in the field of martial arts, a fifth-degree black belt in Shotokan karate and a fourth-generation lineage holder in Zhangjia kung fu. He has extensively studied Wing Chun, qigong and Shaolin Five-Animal neigong. He is also a longtime practitioner of Tibetan secret yoga. This treasury of experience has enabled him to write a book (which was published in August, along with a film screening of his movie of the same name) about the true meaning of martial arts, which he envisions as “nine gates.” The book is titled, Gate of Nine Dragons: Searching for Kung Fu, and the nine gates he explores are: perseverance; loyalty; balance; change; centering; harmony; flow; emptiness; and wushu.
One of the first things I noticed very early into my first catch-up lesson in beginners’ boxing was how pathetically unfit I was. Even into the warm-up session, I thought my relative age showed (I’m 36 this year) in comparison to some of the younger boxers, but looking back on this, I think this is more of an excuse or cope I tell myself. The coach didn’t really critique me and I already went in with a humble attitude. But nevertheless, thanks to just how unfit I felt for the workout, I absorbed a lesson in humility. Hence, I’m retaining a student’s “sponge” attitude in learning as much as I can. Whenever I go to Verano, I truly see myself as the most novice of the lot, even as I see my technique improving with each session (and, hopefully, my fitness).
Because only when one is fit enough, can one enter the zone of boxing, what Laurence calls “kinetic meditation.” Whether performing a kata in karate, or hitting the heavy bag or speed ball, the practitioner of the martial arts enters a state of mindfulness, of singular focus on one objective. This objective, which could be as simple as a punch, involves turning the shoulders, hips, and foot and launching a powerful fist that “snaps” against the bag. All this while the fighter must keep his stance in alignment at all times (including maintaining his guard) while pivoting, shifting, or chasing. If anything, “meditation in motion” is even more difficult and taxing than still, sitting meditation, for it is easy to lose oneself in the adrenaline and excitement.
But harnessing that energy, and observing it - before channelling it into a perfect grapple, kick, or punch that’s pure instinct and free of thought itself - is the embodiment of human potential and power.