Day of the Ninja

I have to admit, this one caught me by surprise…

(Go ahead, laugh at the irony. I’ll wait, lol…)

Today, December 5th, is International Day of the Ninja. Seriously. I’m not quite sure what exactly is supposed to happen today, but perhaps it’s as simple as creeping up behind your co-workers and scaring the snickers out of them. Or maybe you’re supposed to create your own global intelligence network. Not really sure.

In any event, I’ll take today and give a huge load of thanks to my teacher Mark Davis at the Boston Martial Arts Center for passing down his knowledge, experience, and wisdom to me and the other students at his school. I’ve learned so much from Mark, it’s impossible to say thank you enough times. The techniques, strategy, and lessons he’s taught me have literally saved my life numerous times. And I don’t say such things lightly. It’s because of his earnest dedication to the art of Ninjutsu and his humble attitude that enables him to continually have such a successful school.

Back in Japan in 2003, I took my 5th degree black belt test. If not for Mark and his teaching, I’d never have passed it successfully. And the success I’ve enjoyed in learning Ninjutsu has enabled me to enjoy success in all other areas of my life.

So, being that today is International Day of the Ninja, I’d like to humbly suggest that people in the New England area give Mark a call at (617) 789-5524 and schedule a time to come check out a great, fun class at his school. The dojo is filled with some of the friendliest, most successful people I’ve ever known, and you can’t help but have an absolute blast training.

Also, you should buy some of my ebooks because I mix in some pretty cool advanced Ninjutsu concepts in my worlds of fiction. How many authors do you know who have actually studied authentic ninjutsu for over twenty years? Support the Ninja Author! 🙂

And you should also go over and back my new project ZOMBIE RYU which mixes NINJA and ZOMBIES! Check it out!

Zombie Ryu: The Gathering


I’ve launched a brand new project using Kickstarter called ZOMBIE RYU: The Gathering. This is the first in a planned trilogy of books about an elite group of warriors and a 16 year old girl who must battle zombies in feudal Japan while searching for the evil monk who unleashed them. It’s got samurai, ninja, and zombies.

Can’t you just feel how awesome this is going to be? 🙂

Nonstop martial arts mayhem, outlandish battles between the living and the dead, and the struggle between good and evil played out against the backdrop of feudal Japan, an exotic landscape, and the hidden destiny of a very special girl.

If I’d pitched this to traditional publishing, it would take months to get an answer. And I don’t like waiting, so I’ve launched it on Kickstarter to see if I can drum up the necessary funds to produce the book. The incredible Greg Ruth is coming on board to design the cover if we get the funding we need and if we do better than our goal of $18,000 I’m hoping I can convince Greg to do some interior illustrations as well. The thing about Kickstarter is that it’s “all or nothing,” in other words, if I don’t reach the goal of $18,000 in the next 13 days, no one gets charged for backing the project.

So your support is crucial to the success of this entire project.

Please take a moment to visit the official page for it, check out the rewards I’ve set up for backers, and consider supporting it. I’d also appreciate you spreading the word to friends and family via social media like Facebook, Twitter, and even blog posts.

Own Your Experiences-Appreciate Your Past

The longer I train in martial arts, the more I come across people attempting to steal the experiences of others as a way of elevating their perceived ability among those of lower ranks. People claim to own certain notes, or techniques, or that they were present at certain seminars with this teacher or that teacher, or even that they have a certain perspective on things – when frankly, they can’t do the basic material in the first place. All of this bravado and acting is very revealing.

It shows that the person engaged in this behavior is trying far too hard to impress people of lower rank and skill. To what end, that varies. It could be economic: meaning the person could wish to have more people hire them to do seminars, teach classes, buy their “secret” manuals, whatever. (although in truth, they’re simply conning people through false representation.) It could be massive insecurity: meaning the person likely does not believe in themselves enough and has to pretend they’re better than they actually are. It could also be massive ego: meaning the person actually *does* believe they’re better than their seniors and by engaging in this behavior, they are stating to the world that they are numero uno. Or it could be a combination of all three (or more) factors.

It also shows that the person doing this does not truly care about their role as a teacher – that they think very little of the students who look up to them as role models and indeed, pay them for their knowledge. The person in question does not fully embrace the serious mantle of responsibility that goes along with being a teacher. To them, it becomes all about the mighty dollar, so they willfully prostitute the very legacy they claim to honor and respect by lying about their past and their experiences in order to sell more.

As insulting such actions are to the people whose experiences are, in fact, genuine, this type of behavior is also rather tragic.

It’s tragic in the sense that the person who engages in fraudulent behavior is actually stating to the world that they are ashamed of their own past and their own experiences.

So much so, in fact, that they have to pretend to be something they’re not, or pretend they were some place they never were, or pretend they trained with someone then they never did.

What they fail to realize is that their students will be far more appreciative of honest experience more than any sort of set of notes, or secret technique, or affiliation with a certain individual. And even if you haven’t had the same experiences as another person, the experiences you HAVE had are no less valuable for the simple reason that they’re YOURS. They belong to YOU and you alone. In studying martial arts, no two people will ever experience things the same way. Everyone might know the technique, but no one else will have the same experience practicing and training with it. THAT is what becomes more and more important the further you progress in martial arts training. It become LESS about the actual technique and MORE about your experience learning and using that technique.

Clearly, when starting out, you need to know the mechanics of the technique itself. But the life/energy behind the technique is derived directly from the experiences of learning, using, teaching, and reflecting on it. Anyone can open a notebook and pantomime a certain throw or punch. It takes a real teacher – one who is honest, humble, responsible, and still quests to better themselves – to convey the essence of a technique. And it is that transmission of essence that will open up the gateway to mastery of the technique within the student.

If you don’t own your experiences, if you don’t appreciate your past, if you are forever attempting to be something you’re not, then people will eventually see it and go off in search of a better teacher. In the end, you only end up fooling yourself. And in your wake, you leave behind a lot of disappointed students, and any of the honor and respect you might have garnered during earlier years.

Don’t do it.

Each student on the path has their own experiences. They create their own past. And that’s something to be proud of, regardless of the good and the bad. If you can proud of your experiences and your past, if you can admit when you know something and when you do NOT know something, if you can still be a student even when you’re a teacher, then that’s a good thing: not just for you, but for those who look to you as a role model or teacher.

Own your experiences.

Appreciate your past.

They are what truly belong to you – what make you unique – as you walk the path of Budo.

The Power of Compassion

One of the things that I’ve often struggled with in my life is the idea of tolerating wrongdoings. From my perspective, if someone – including myself – does something wrong, they should be held accountable for that and then take steps to rectify the situation. By and large, I don’t apply this so much to myself and the various haters I’ve encountered, but rather to the people I respect and love. If someone wrongs them or maligns them or does something stupid, you can bet it’s going to create a big ol’ problem. This has happened numerous times in my life and I’ve usually been extremely active in dealing with it: sometimes tactfully and other times much more tangibly. The idea of turning the other cheek has never appealed to me because when I’ve done that in the past, the people at fault viewed my turning the other cheek as a tacit condoning of their actions. So I’ve done the exact opposite and gotten right in their faces. Sometimes this has corrected the situation and other times, it has not. But the idea of concealing my disgust or tolerating such behavior has always been a struggle.

When I started training in martial arts, the notion that ridiculous behavior be tolerated was never an option. There was always a protocol. There was always a set of guidelines. Practitioners were expected to conduct themselves with honor and loyalty and be upstanding citizens, showing respect to their seniors and instructors, helping others, and generally being productive members of society. In the event that someone failed to live up to or abide by those standards, they were given a warning to correct themselves. If they corrected their behavior, all was well. We all make mistakes, after all.

But if that person did not correct their ways, then other measures were employed to rectify the situation. Such was the way. As a practitioner, we’d all pledged to abide by the rules set forth by our instructor. If we couldn’t live up to that commitment, or did something to harm the reputation of the lineage or school, there would – sometimes literally – be hell to pay.

Since starting my training in Ninjutsu, there have been a host of individuals who have come through the dojo and fizzled out for one reason or another. As the years have gone on since I started training, I have always marveled at my teacher’s response to such people. Whereas I am much more confrontational about dealing with the situations these individuals have created through their reckless disregard, my teacher has always shown them compassion and done very little, superficially speaking, to affect things.

From one perspective, this compassion could be viewed as a weakness. The reckless and disrespectful individuals go on their merry way thinking that they put one over on my teacher or that they somehow came out on top of the situation or that my teacher isn’t really as tough as others have made him out to be. Their vanity and ego make them feel proud and superior to everyone else involved. “Hey, look at me. I called those guys idiots and disrespected the school and no one did a damned thing about it. I’m awesome. King of the jungle!”

But from another perspective – one much more aligned with the actual principles of Ninjutsu – this compassionate response to idiocy is actually far stronger than it appears on the surface. First of all from the physical perspective, it takes a very strong person to refrain from paying someone a visit and smacking the living crap out of them – especially when they’ve done horrific things. Second from the mental perspective, responding with compassion is actually far more powerful in that it manipulates the offending individual on a whole other level. By compassionately addressing them and allowing them to continue on their merry way, the offending individual’s vanity envelops them like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. They feel safe and secure in their delusions of greatness and superiority. They smile and feel great, which may be exactly what we want them to feel. And third from the spiritual perspective, knowing you can either wake someone up from their delusion or keep them imprisoned in it for as long as you want, is power on a whole other level.

This past week, another such individual reared their head. It was someone we haven’t seen around the dojo in a long time and someone I used to call a friend. He posted a video and stated that it demonstrated principles of an aspect of our art – but the individual in question isn’t remotely qualified to make such a statement and by doing so, he betrayed the very fact that he has no understanding of what this aspect of our art is about. When I commented that the video did not show good principles of the art, his response was to block me and delete my comments. He then lorded about pretending that he had staged the entire thing to root out those people who really weren’t his friends. On its own, that would have been fine. I would have simply shrugged and moved on, now alerted to the fact that he was a nutcase.

But then he took it a step further and implied that the man I call my teacher and one of my closest friends for over twenty years runs a “cult.”

I viewed this statement with rage, frankly. Nothing could be further from the truth than what he had suggested. And my immediate response was to try to reach out and correct the situation. I emailed the individual and contacted him via Twitter as well, telling him that I didn’t much care what he felt about me, but to suggest that my teacher – who had also been his teacher at one time and had helped him in innumerable ways – was running a cult was beyond belief and outrageous. I suggested he immediately retract the statement and make a public apology.

I got no response.

As a final effort on my part, I sent a message via Facebook to the man’s wife and asked her to pass it along to her husband. She then wrote to my teacher and said that her husband had made himself abundantly clear to me in his responses (I received no responses from him), along with a rambling diatribe that made little sense.

Throughout this entire situation, my teacher has remained upbeat and positive. I have struggled to restrain myself from a applying a much more hands-on solution. In the old days, this individual would have been taught a serious lesson about what happens when you disrespect a man who has shown you nothing but kindness and help.

My teacher shows all of these people compassion. He allows them to stay wrapped up in that blanket of delusion, knowing the truth that they are individuals who must walk their own paths barred from progression by the grievous mistakes they make – indeed, that it may not be their time, if ever, to be awakened. And by showing them compassion, my teacher extends to them an even greater lesson: that they still – even in the depths of their deluded personal hells – have the potential to awaken to the truth and atone for their mistakes. They could still correct their course and show they possess the necessary character to admit wrongdoings and then forge ahead on the path.

This form of compassion is something I aspire to. It is a fully-realized application of Ninjutsu in the real world. Each day, we all have to deal with idiots and rude people who have no clue or behave irrationally and without regard even for those who have shown them the utmost kindness. This form of compassion becomes one more tool in the arsenal of the practitioner. I am extremely fortunate to have a teacher who can illustrate such an amazing concept even as I struggle to come to grips with its principles.

Just one more lesson to be learned on the winding and challenging path of Budo.

Run At The Fear

When I was much younger, I spent the majority of my time running away from fear. I was perpetually afraid of doing the wrong thing, appearing out-of-place, or being unprepared. In the 7th grade, I was at a new school with hundreds of people I didn’t know. I didn’t wear the right clothes, talk the right way, or even give a damn enough about my appearance. And then I had bullies to deal with so I spent a lot of time figuring out intricate methods of avoidance. I’d walk out of my way to avoid place I knew they’d be at. I spent so much time rocked back on my heels that I really felt on the defensive for a majority of the time.

I finally realized something when I was about fifteen years old: I didn’t like how my life was unfolding. Being forever tied up in knots of anxiety is not a pleasant way to go through the day – and even as horrible as puberty can be, I was making my own excursion through that time even more hellish. I spent a lot of time looking for some miracle solution that would remove all the fear from my life. I wanted to be bold. I wanted to let troubles bounce off of me. But I didn’t know how to find real courage, or – for a while – even where to start to look for it.

I’d always been intrigued about martial arts. I’d seen the all the Kung Fu flicks of that time. And so I started training – first with friends and then with actual instructors. I still remember walking into my first martial arts school, halfway terrified that I was going to get the snot beaten out of me and never be able to recover. But that didn’t happen. And as I trained, I grew more confident in myself. I was less risk-adverse than I’d ever been. I wanted to test myself under duress. The primal satisfaction that comes from trading punches and kicks or grappling with an opponent and then emerging from that test weary but still alive; sweaty and exhausted but toughened up. I still love that feeling and yearn for it even all these years later.

But at the same time, martial arts didn’t remove fear from my life – and I realized nothing could ever take fear away. Indeed, nothing should take fear away.

Instead, martial arts changed my attitude toward fear.

As I grew more aware of my surroundings and what my body was capable of doing to another human being, I started enjoying the idea of being tested more and more. There’s a certain primal exhilaration in stepping on to the dojo floor and testing your technique. Sometimes, things go well. Sometimes, you find mistakes that need to be improved upon. But that fear that once crippled me, now assisted me in learning to truly live my life and take control of my personal destiny.

I know many people who have dreams. But fear of failure, or of self-sacrifice, or of some perceived notion that society has pounded into their consciousness of what’s appropriate behavior for someone at a certain age…it ensures those things remain just that: dreams.

As a result, these people do what I used to do – they run away from the fear. They go out of their way to self-sabotage their success using excuses or rationale that overrules their desire. They squander bold opportunity in favor of the comfort of mediocrity.

There are precious few who adopt the opposite response and actually run at the fear. These are the people who act in the face of adversity. They are the ones who acknowledge their fear or insecurity but go for it anyway. They refuse to let fear be the crippling entity it can be. Instead, they use it as a barometer of how well they’re steering their destiny toward the success they believe they deserve. If they aren’t afraid, then they’re not trying hard enough – they’re not taking enough risks to achieve their dreams.

This isn’t to say that if you’re afraid of sharks that you should chum the waters and go swimming. Instead, what I’m suggesting is you look at the things you want from life – goals or dreams or what have you. Then honestly look at what might be holding you back from achieving them. Are you afraid? If so, the only way to achieving your goals is to blast through the fear. Run at it. Go through it. Don’t stop. Never quit.

One of the scariest situations I’ve ever found myself in was when I was walking with my wife and one of her relatives through Chinatown. Ahead of us were two men walking slowly and taking up the majority of room on the sidewalk. I made the decision to move ahead of them, but as I did so, I realized that we were being set up for an attack. The two men were the funnel and ahead of them were three more men situated in such a way as to form a half circle perimeter. The realization was one that happened in nanoseconds – only in looking back at it from the safety and comfort of many years later can I even describe it. But I knew – even in that split-second – that if I hesitated or tried to avoid the situation, it would be catastrophic for the three of us.

Instead, as the attack unfolded and the lead man drew the knife he’d been concealing and tried to distract me by asking, “Hey, you got a problem?” I moved through and beyond the arc of his cut and checked his shoulder so he could not cut back, while simultaneously pushing my wife and her relative ahead of me and out of the ambush, all the while repeating, “Nope, no problem. There’s no problem.” I kept us moving – always moving – until we were well clear of the attackers. And thanks to my training, the incident was over so quickly that the attackers simply turned and walked the other way. I don’t know if they were even fully aware of what had just transpired. I was still fairly confused myself.

But I knew one thing: I’d run at the fear.

I moved forward when any other choice would have meant my downfall and possibly that of my wife and her relative. Backpedaling, circling, even engaging – all of it would have been wrong. I would have been trapped in a circle of five armed attackers (I only saw one knife, but you *always* assume the attackers are armed) with two innocents to protect as well as myself. It would have been disastrous.

I use that example to illustrate the need to always keep pushing ahead when it comes to achieving goals. Yes, there will be setbacks. Yes, there will be failures. Yes, it will be uncomfortable and you may spend a night or two worrying about the future. But the payoff – that same visceral exhilaration that I get when I test myself in the dojo – of finally reaching a goal is so worth it.

Whatever your dreams and goals, I hope you run at the fear and never let it cripple you. Be bold, move ahead. Don’t let fear – yours or that of anyone else – stop you from realizing your true potential.