New England Warrior Camp 2010 – Recap

This past weekend was the New England Warrior Camp, an annual gathering of ninjutsu practitioners from New England and beyond. My good friend and buyu Ken Savage of the Winchendon Martial Arts Center created the event 13 years ago and each successive year, the Camp gets stronger and stronger, with 3-days of intensive day and night training in rustic conditions meant to take camp-goers out of their comfort zones and encourage them to explore the path we walk in new and exciting ways. It’s truly a fantastic event – and while many others have attempted to copy it – none have succeeded.

For the past 10 or 11 years (can’t recall now), I’ve been honored to teach one of the break-out segments at the Camp and I always try to center my presentation around what I happen to be working on at that particular time. It’s always a fantastic experience to get to work with people I don’t normally train with, see how my training and presentation hold up under the duress of each individual attacker, and see how other practitioners are walking the path.

Friday was a humid, rainy day, and I arrived at the Camp at about 3pm. At the White Lodge (the Camp is held on a Boy Scout reservation), I checked in and immediately saw Ken and Paul. A few other folks were milling around, but the excitement was palpable. It always is. One of the great things about the Camp is the caliber and attitude of camp-goers. Everyone is friendly and outgoing. And while there is plenty of political idiocy running rampant in the Bujinkan as a whole, the Camp never tolerates nor suffers from any such juvenile behavior. In short (as Ken’s motto states), we’re there to “explore, challenge, and develop” our warrior spirit. A humid, rainy day wasn’t about to spoil that.

At one of the open-air pavilions, Ken taught a class from 4-5:30 on Kuki Shinden-ryu Hanbojutsu. It was a great way to kick things off and tons of people arrived in time to take part. Ken took us through some basics on using the hanbo, a 3-foot staff, and we got a chance to loosen up with some cool striking techniques.

At 8pm, Ken officially opened the Camp with a welcome around the big fire at the Chippanyonk fire circle. After going over Camp logistics, each of the instructors got a chance to briefly tell folks who were taking their sessions what to expect from the training. From there, we went out to the Ellis Lands where Mark Davis, the senior teacher at the Camp, taught some great night time techniques. As the rain poured down, the air grew cooler, and the night got even more beautiful. The Camp is a fantastic reminder that the wonders of the universe exist in every moment of every situation – we only need to open ourselves up to their presence in order to see and appreciate them.

After the night training concluded, we went back to our quarters at the Henderson Cabin. Several of us stayed up pretty late talking old times and sharing some pretty funny war stories from our years of being in this art. Billy, Dave, Paul, Dennis, Paul, and myself had some great laughs. Then it was off to bed.

Saturday dawned bright and cool. The rain that had poured down the previous night had vanished, leaving behind intense crystal blue skies. A lot of campers showed up for Ken’s early morning Gyo natural fitness session, which is a great method for improving strength and fitness. After a breakfast served up by the Camp’s cook, Ed – who is just crazy enough to add another colorful dimension to the Camp experience without the need for a strait jacket – we all walked out to the Ellis Lands for Mark’s next segment. The ground, which we expected to be muddy, was prefect for training. We twisted, rolled, and bounced around for several hours.

Lunch came and while the rest of the camp-goers went back for the meal, I hung back at the Ellis Lands going over my presentation notes and preparing a few more props. My good friend Billy came out early since he’d be playing the role of attacker (my uke) for my session. We went through what I’d be presenting and then sat down to wait for everyone to show up. Paul showed up to prep for his session and then Ken came out along with the rest of the campers. Each of us had a spot on the giant field and we broke up into three groups for our breakout sessions.

The focus of my presentation was on development of kinesthetic awareness, broadcasting too much intent to an attacker, and disappearing in the midst of a violent encounter. I had a fun time demonstrating the techniques we’d be playing with. The second hour included both attacker and defender being blindfolded with a practice knife inserted into the mix. Two hours flew by and I then raced back to the dining hall to down some chow since I hadn’t eaten much since breakfast aside from some Twix bars and Gatorade.

After dinner I had a chance to grab a quick shower and a cat nap. After that we headed back to the Chippanyonk for the Saturday night talk around the fire. Traditionally, this is where folks can ask questions of the instructors, and we do a few other cool things as well. Ken also laid out the specifics for the night training exercise. This year’s exercise involved a VIP search-and-rescue followed by escape & evasion through hostile territory. Myself, some of the other instructors, and staff volunteers played referees for the event, and as the cool night grew colder, 90+ campers were sent off on their respective assignments. Complicating the assignment even further, each VIP held an index card. Upon arrival, the search & rescue team would be presented with the index card, which told them that their VIP was injured (broken leg, broken knee, etc. etc.). Search & rescue would then have to figure out how they were going to transport their injured VIP back through enemy territory without being compromised. Needless to say, it was a very tough assignment, but a helluva lot of fun.

The Saturday night exercise ended with folks heading back down for the traditional Spam-fest around the campfire. Each year someone seems to concoct some insanely ridiculous recipe for Spam and something else. In the past, the sandwich concoctions have gotten pretty extreme. Not being a fan of Spam, I opt out. But folks brought cookies and other snacks. This year, most people headed off fairly early to bed. Saturdays usually produce the best sleep at Camp.

Sunday morning, Ken took the campers on a walk up the mountain, using more of his Gyo techniques. The view must have been spectacular! After breakfast, the morning’s breakout sessions were with Dennis Mahoney and Leon Drucker. I had an errand to run and missed the first hour, but got back in time to train with Paul and my friend Mike Zaino for the second. More fun training before lunch.

Mark Davis closed out the Camp with a great afternoon session focusing on using the six-foot (bo) staff in a natural way. Paul and I got a chance to explore some of the material we’ve been studying and had a blast doing so. After the session, Ken officially closed the Camp and folks got their gear and said their good-byes. It was, as it always is, a fantastic time. A lot of campers call the Camp, “Ninja New Year” and use it as a means of setting new goals for themselves as they continue walking this path. Ken hands out blank pieces of wood early on Saturdays and invites people to write down a goal for themselves. At the Saturday night fire, campers are invited to come up to the fire and toss their intention sticks into the flames. There’s nothing spiritual or mystical about it, per se, but it’s always a powerful moment as the flames grow higher from the inclusion of each successive intention stick and I, for one, always enjoy watching it. I know I’ve set many goals for myself at the past Camps, and it helps to remind me that there’s still so much to learn, despite twenty years of study in this style.

2010’s NEWC was a great time and I got to meet some wonderful new people. The strength of this art lies in the fact that it is forever growing and evolving – it’s a “living” martial art, not a stagnant, static one reduced to a finite number of stances and techniques. The strength of the Camp lies in the fact that the people who attend it continue to “live” their own individual martial paths, rather than imagine themselves as masters with nothing left to learn.

My sincere thanks to Ken Savage for creating such a wonderful event & to all who came out to the training this past weekend. I’m already looking forward to next year!

Bujinkan Komugakure Group

I’m very pleased to announce that I have formed a training group in the Metrowest Boston area for Ninjutsu. Called the Bujinkan Komugakure Group, this is NOT a dojo. Members who opt to come and train with me are expected to attend regular classes at another recognized Bujinkan dojo in the Massachusetts area. I will not be testing anyone or otherwise awarding rank in this system. I am simply too busy in other areas to commit to the kind of quality instruction that a full-time dojo can provide a dedicated student. My intent is to focus on enhancement of the basics (kihon) of the system, development of an understanding within group members of WHY they choose to train in this art, and real-world application of techniques in environments that are non-dojo.

Members of Komugakure Group will train mostly outdoors in all weather conditions, and in street attire. We’ll work the basics in all types of environments thereby helping members understand and improve on the vast tools the system affords us. Additionally, some of the training will replicate high-stress situations so that members will have the opportunity to explore how emotional and physiological changes affect their technique. The goal, of course, is for all of us to improve and better understand the art which we study. All of us. While I will lead this training group, I may have guest instructors show up from time-to-time, both Bujinkan and non-Bujinkan, who will provide interesting and educational counterpoints and perspectives to the training. But I’ll be learning as well. All of the teachers in this art that I have been fortunate enough to train with – men I respect immensely – are first and foremost students. They continue to explore, learn, challenge themselves, and evolve – even while they help guide others down the path. I’m still learning as well.

There is a lot of nonsense in the Bujinkan right now. Youtube videos uploaded by people who are clueless (at best) or only interested in self-aggrandizement (at worst) plague this system. Countless Bujinkan practitioners isolate themselves from reality by failing to address real-world situations and opponents in the interest of being seen as a master, the head of a dojo, a supposed expert on history, or some other silliness. All the while, they willfully forget that we study a “martial” art. This art was born on the battlefield; it was developed in response to unbridled aggression and greed, and as such, it is difficult & demanding to study and learn from. A practitioner needs to be honest about his or her motivations for studying. A teacher even more so.

It is my hope that members of the Komugakure Group learn a lot about this art and what it is truly capable of, outside the dojo. It is also my hope that members become better practitioners of this system, and, by being so, help to undo much of the damage that has been wrought by those who would rather pose than train and continue learning.

Training events are sent to group members closer to the actual day, but for now, Sunday nights will be fairly constant. To stay abreast of everything we’re doing, please join us on Facebook by clicking here!

I look forward to the future with you all!



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The Future for Writers

Over at Robert J. Sawyer’s blog he muses about the future of full-time novelists. The comment section is filled with pessimistic anecdotes about the writing life and how hundreds of working writers will inevitably fade away when the world no longer buys books, or some such thing. Coupled with recent announcements like the fact that Dorchester Publishing’s Leisure books line is no longer going to print mass market paperbacks, and that Amazon is now selling more ebooks than hardcovers (apparently), the writing world is buzzing with, to paraphrase my friend and colleague Bob Freeman’s term, “Chicken Little-itis.”

I wrote a comment on Sawyer’s blog:

Actually, I’ve found some degree of success with the serialization model. In ‘06, I was the first author to partner with Myspace to do a month-long official serialized fiction piece that sent out a chapter each day. I did great netting new fans and subscribers – no money, but the experiment proved it could work given the right approach.

In 2010, I decided to try it myself and invited people to subscribe in order to get a chapter each week in their email for $7.95 for the entire year. That project will earn me roughly $4,000 this year. Not huge money, sure, but when combined with the work-for-hire novels I write for Harlequin/Gold Eagle, along with my “traditional” novel sales, and the ebooks I sell via Amazon and direct via my website, the money adds up.

Writers need to focus on establishing and then maintaining multiple income streams for their work; it’s simply not enough to hope that a traditional publishing deal will save the day. More so given the crazy contract clauses that seem to have found their way into the contracts of several friends – in particular one clause that states the writer can’t write anything else during the duration of the contract except for the 3 contracted books (and the advance for each? $10,000) So a traditional publisher now expects a writer to live on $30,000 – if they wrote them all within a year? Gimme a break.

As for Hollywood, don’t be so quick to think of it as only a pie-in-the-sky dream. The business model is changing out there as well. My business partner and I have raised private investment funds to turn a series of my books into a TV series. The technology now exists much cheaper than ever before to produce your own material and then sell it across a wide spectrum of potential platforms. Example: a few years back, the digital HD cameras ran about $20,000 for a RED ONE body (not including lenses or rigs, etc. etc.) Nowadays, you can get a a Canon EOS 5D mkII for a whopping $2500 and then outfit it with lenses and rigs for another few thousand.

In short, a writer looking to survive and survive well only needs to be open to seeing the possibilities of a future that can, and (I think) will be bright. Will everyone prosper? Hell, no. When I hear writers bemoaning the use of social networking and having no clue how to set up a Facebook Page for themselves, then it’s pretty obvious there will be some serious Darwinism at work. But for those who understand the new technology and the business behind entertainment, I expect they will be fine.

Different, yes. But still in the business of creating great content and being paid for it.

I’ve often compared the writing life to the martial arts world and the intersection of the two of them comes down to one point: an overall sense of awareness that enables a flexible response to the changing environment. Whether it’s combat or writing, the rules are the same in this case. If you remain fixed on one point and rely solely on that, then you’re doomed. I’ve known people who train only for one scenario in a fight. They obviously get really REALLY good at dealing with that scenario, but as is so often the case, when the situation actually manifests, it’s not what they trained to do and they get ripped apart.

The same goes for writing. I’ve known authors who (for example) viewed a contract with Leisure as the be-all-end-all of publishing. (And given the crappiness of a Leisure contract, all it really did was point out how little said writer knew about the business behind writing) Horror authors in particular have always had this special love for Leisure and now comes news of its paperback demise. They’re scrambling. “What do I do now? Who else publishes horror?”

The time to figure out a strategy is NOT when things are going bad. The time to lay out a strategy is when things are going WELL. As a warrior, you must be alert to changes in alliances, see the potential for friends to become enemies and vice versa, understand the effects of economy on threat conditions, be able to use shifting environments to their advantage, establish new sources of intelligence, mine already established contacts, and so on. As a writer, you must be alert for new technologies that can create new opportunities, understand the business behind entertainment, establish new contacts and friends already in those new markets, and look to establish a presence there, and so on.

A lot of writers will no doubt fade away. But the smart ones will figure out how to survive and indeed, prosper. In the same way, a smart warrior uses every tool at his disposal to survive – not just the business ends of his weapons. Those who failed to grasp that point, inevitably stayed on the battlefield long after the living already left.

Your mileage may vary…

Later this week I’ll offer up some suggestions for those “multiple income streams.” So please be sure to come on back!

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When Life Sucks

In my last post, I talked about the path of a warrior and the concept of fudoshin, that driving force behind achieving goals and blasting through challenges. But what happens when things don’t move fast enough? What happens when the constant slog grinds you down, the interminable wait bores you to shreds, and well, life sucks?

I was feeling that way yesterday. Not that anything dramatically traumatic happened (thankfully) but one of my goals is taking far longer to achieve than I ever thought it would. The constant driving forward, the endless amount of patience I’ve got to supply when things aren’t getting accomplished, the encouragement I need to keep broadcasting to keep morale high, and the repeated disappointments that keep adding up, finally bore down on me to the point where I was frankly pissed off with the state of things.

I’ve never been one to indulge in the whole self-pity thing. When disappointments mount, I’ll generally allow myself a few hours (max) of acknowledging how bummed I am, and then it’s right back into the fight. I happen to think that’s a healthy way to handle it. Too much moping about can thoroughly derail the train you’re attempting to careen down the tracks toward that goal.

Yesterday, however, was one of those times when I needed a bit more than a few simple hours of bumming about.

What I needed was a more immediate reminder of what the spirit is capable of doing when pressed into service. After all, it’s easy to lose sight of the potential of personal power when it’s being directed at a goal that is taking quite a long time to achieve. So, I decided to remind myself of the infinite power we all have, if only we’re willing to tap into it.

Late last night, I strapped on my rucksack, filled it with some weight plates, packed a few water bottles and then drove over to the high school track. Fortunately, the place was deserted (which is the best way to do this type of thing – having people around only distracts you from the goal of reminding yourself that the real competition in life comes from within, from the constant inner temptation that would otherwise distract your focus) and I slid the ruck on and decided that the goal was to pound out five miles without stopping. It was late; it was hot, humid and buggy. Rain was moving in. But I was there to remind myself that I could keep going for the long ball – that persistently elusive goal that has thus far defied my efforts to reach it.

The length of the track is roughly a quarter mile, which meant I needed to go around twenty times. The first four laps were fairly easy but the pain soon set in and I was amazed to see all the usual suspects bubbling up as my inner self tried to get me to stop running. It’s too hot, your knee aches, there’s a TV show on, you could be writing that next chapter, why don’t you just slow down and walk?, the bugs are coming now, is that rain?

The process made me smile because I’ve been there so many times before. And each time in the past, I’ve done exactly the same thing: head down and press on. Which is what I did last night. Twenty laps. About ninety minutes worth of exertion. It wasn’t fast; that wasn’t the point. While it was a good workout with the weighted rucksack on, last night’s exercise was for my spirit. It was to remind myself that I do have the necessary power to make that elusive goal a reality; that I do have the power to bring something into being where it has not existed before. It was to remind myself that the excuses that others might make to let themselves out of the fight are not ones I will ever yield to. Despite the pain, the exhaustion, the desires to quit and rest and take it easy, to follow that simpler way of life, to settle for good enough instead of aspiring toward excellence – despite all the distractions, it was simply a matter of finishing what I started and not settling for “almost.”

The point of this post isn’t to appear self-congratulatory. It’s to show that despite the years I’ve invested in studying martial arts, in trying to better myself, and despite whatever levels I’ve already achieved, there is always more work to be done. There are always new challenges to face.

And yeah, I get bummed out, too.

It’s what you do when your spirit ebbs that counts the most. Life is easy when things are going well. But when life sucks, that’s when you learn the most about yourself.

I relearned that lesson last night.

Upon finishing the run, I walked back into the parking lot that was now filled with local teens who had decided to park next to my car, have a few butts, and generally parade themselves around the opposite sex. One particular muscular dude puffed on a cigarette and stood directly in my path as I approached my car. Perhaps he saw the refocused look of intensity in my eyes; perhaps he simply saw a “crazy old man,” but whatever the reason, he quickly stepped aside and let me pass – almost a living metaphor. At the car, I fished out the water and sat there drinking it all in – everything about the experience I’d just gone through and what it had to teach and what more I had yet to learn.

According to my handy pedometer on my iPhone, it had taken my 11,000 steps to relearn an important lesson. My right knee throbbed and I was soaked with sweat. I’d say I paid a bargain price for something pretty damned valuable.

As I sat there drinking some water, I checked my email and found that I had received the first blurb for THE KENSEI and it was a mighty awesome one.

And suddenly, in the afterglow of being tested in the crucible of self-doubt, life didn’t suck so much anymore.

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The Path of a Warrior

I’ve had several conversations lately about the path of the warrior – especially as it relates to studying ninjutsu. I thought I’d take an entry and express what this thing is all about – at least to me, right now at this moment in my personal evolution. (My way of saying this could easily change in a few years based on me getting some more mileage/experiences under my belt…)

Ninjutsu, the martial art I study, attracts more than its share of nut jobs. In fairness, all martial arts styles have their percentage of whackos – god knows I’ve met plenty – but there’s something about the whole “ninja” thing that sends people into loopy Obi Wan Kenobi behavior without even having the ability to throw a proper punch. People have this idea that they can achieve some sort of supernatural ability to deal with attackers with a flick of the finger and a wink of the eye.

It.

Don’t.

Work.

That.

Way. (and yes, I’m using bad grammar for effect, dammit)

People often embark on the path of a warrior without fully comprehending what it means. It’s a novelty. Something cool. “Hey man, check me out…I’m a warrior now.” They have this notion with the right look (camo gi, tabi, face mask) or by chucking shuriken on a Youtube video they can simply start referring to themselves as a “ninja warrior.”** They go looking for something that’s not there; some sort of shortcut to martial invulnerability and this attitude of invincibility. When they don’t find it, they tend to short-circuit and immediately search for an excuse or someone else to blame for their inability to stay the course. Because they’ve found what actually IS on the path of a warrior: endless challenges and obstacles. And worse: they lack the ability to persevere in the face of those challenges.

A lot of folks equate being a warrior with being an amazing fighter. In reality, the path of a warrior is something you choose knowing full well that the only thing before you is an infinite amount of hard work, frustration, challenges, and temptations to stray from the path. Along the way, you might learn how to be a good fighter, but that’s not the essence of warriorship. I know plenty of good fighters; I know very few true warriors.

The few I am fortunate enough to know all share one thing in common: an inner drive of such power that any obstacle set before them simply stands no chance. They will either go through it, around it, seduce it, cajole it, or otherwise overcome it on their way to achieving whatever goal they have in mind.

There’s more…

Along with that incredible drive comes an acute and honest realization that challenge isn’t something that happens once or twice and then the gates of some proverbial heaven open before them; challenge happens for as long as they remain on the path of a warrior. There’s no end.

EVER.

I’ve often remarked that there’s a definite sense of masochism that goes along with some of the more intense training in the dojo I’m lucky enough to study at. It’s a sort-of running joke with my training partners, but there’s truth there as well. You’ve got to love the pain; you’ve got to love the struggle; you’ve got to love the nights when nothing makes sense; you’ve got to love the frustration and uncertainty of the training – of walking the path. This is what it means to be alive – truly alive – forever testing yourself against all challenges and insecurities. Without that spirit of contest, without that spike of adrenaline when things don’t go right, without that attitude of “WTF happens now?” there’s no sense of knowing the greatness that comes from persevering in the face of bad times.

Warriors understand this.

They actualize a concept known as “fudoshin,” – “immovable spirit.” While a literal translation might lead one to assume that fudoshin could be likened to simply being stubborn, it’s anything but. Fudoshin, in essence, is what defines a warrior: that drive, that willingness to accept the challenges on the path as the price of living a life filled with the potential of higher personal evolution and an understanding of our own place and role within the scheme of the universe.

There are no shortcuts. There are no excuses.

There’s only one easy way out: stop walking the path.

Of course, the ones who stop walking the path always have excuses ready. And the common denominator in all these excuses is that they’re externally-focused. “Things have changed.” “It’s not the way it used to be.” “I’m too busy.” True warriors are always looking to improve themselves so they spend more and more time taking care of their own failings and faults instead of looking for someone else to blame their shortcomings on. Warriors know that the ability to persevere and stay on the path comes from ridding themselves of the personal junk and clutter that affects us all. They internalize and work to vanquish their own demons through brutally honest self-assessment rather than spend their time only looking outside themselves.

It’s not easy. But then, no one said it would be.

That’s the path warriors choose to walk. Personally, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

** Which, of course, will cause some people to say, “Yeah, but Jon, on your website and elsewhere, you refer to yourself as a Ninja. Aren’t you just being hypocritical?” The answer is no: I use the term “ninja” to help market my personal brand and separate myself from the pack of other authors and producers since very few – if any – of them have spent the last two decades studying ninjutsu with acknowledged senior teachers in the art. I don’t purport to be an expert on ninjutsu; I don’t have a DVD series; I don’t even have a training group or corny Youtube videos filled with bad techno music (although I do have a few videos showing me doing some techniques). And I certainly don’t imagine myself creeping about the dark with a sword across my back. What I do have is fudoshin – and I happen to train and study my ass off, working to apply the principles of ninjutsu outside of the dojo to better my life, my family’s, and the lives of those less fortunate than myself – so I’m perfectly fine with the idea of using the term “ninja” as it relates to the actual definition of the term rather than the stereotypical silliness others would prefer to lazily employ. ‘Nuff said.

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