The Ki of the Stomach

Cultivating Internal Energy in the Hara for Budo Training

     The other day, I was having a conversation with a dear friend of mine—I won’t get into the details, as they are beside the point for the sake of what I want to discuss here—when he said something that I just couldn’t get out of my head.  He said that sometimes, when making a decision, you just have to “trust your gut.”  It’s a common idiom that you may have heard as advice throughout your life.

     My friend has no experience, and certainly no interest, in my lifelong passion for the traditional Japanese martial ways.  Like most of my family members, and the friends I have who I didn’t meet through martial arts training, he probably looks upon my passion for the Budo—and physical training in general—as nothing more than a curiosity and perhaps an odd peculiarity of my personality.  What he doesn’t know is that in traditional Budo one’s “gut instinct” can actually be trained and honed to the degree that it can be trusted more than one’s thoughts.

     From an Eastern standpoint—at least religious, philosophical, and martial—the West trusts thinking entirely too much.  Rene Descartes’s cogito, ergo sum or “I think, therefore I am” pretty much sums up the entire foundational elements of Western philosophy and Western society in general after the Scientific Revolution.  Intuition, on the other hand, is looked at almost askance.  Budo training, however, believes that intuition can be developed to an incredibly high degree.

     Your gut instinct is “trained” through developing the ki in your hara or your tanden region.  This is your “power center” located about 2 to 3 finger-widths below your navel.  By developing the hara, your ki energy radiates throughout the body.  This energy, in Japanese, is known as haragei or “stomach wisdom.”  It’s a term found particularly in ninjutsu, to ensure that the shinobi (a more traditional term for “ninja”) were always prepared for a surprise attack or so they were one step ahead of their opponents at all times.  Because of this association with ninjutsu, it has taken on a mystical or almost preternatural quality, but haragei is quite down-to-earth.  A karate student who has adequately developed her haragei understands well to trust her gut instinct.  She might be walking down a street in a large urban city, purse in hand, when she approaches a corner of the street.  Her hara tells her to cross to the other side of the road before walking around the corner, therefore preventing her from facing a mugger that she was “unaware” of.  Without developing the hara, many would have chosen not to listen to their “gut” but she does.

     To develop haragei, a budoka must learn to breathe through and into his stomach, as opposed to his chest.  In traditional dojos, this was always one of the first concepts taught.  It has been neglected in some modern karate or judo schools, though it’s still quite prevalent in the more traditional arts—karate and judo weren’t introduced to Japan until the 20th century—such as Iaido or Kyudo, arts that are often termed Koryu and predate the 20th century.  Proper hara breathing is known as kokyu.  Again, when you breathe in, it’s your hara that should expand and not your chest.  On your exhalation, it should depress.  Most folks in the West who take up the martial ways are not accustomed to breathing in such a manner.  I have known people who have tried it and can’t even do it, so acclimatized they are to breathing through their chests.

     One of the best ways to develop ki in the hara is through zazen or seated meditation.  Through the influence of Shinto in Budo training, this practice of developing the ki in the tanden is sometimes called misogi.  The practitioner must learn to find the proper balance, however, between too stressful of a practice and too relaxed.  This importance cannot be stressed enough, as too strenuous of a hara practice can lead to emotional and energetic imbalances and poor health or even disease.

     It’s common to find two extremes in martial arts training in general.  After training for more than 40 years in the martial ways, I have been to more than a fair share of dojos, dojangs, and kung-fu schools, and I have trained with many different practitioners from a variety of styles.  It’s common to find these extremes within both the atmosphere of a school and the inner disposition of practitioners—both excesses should be avoided.

     At one extreme, you have a serious, almost militaristic, atmosphere.  You saw this quite a lot in various karate schools when I started training as a kid in the early 1980s.  The Cobra Kai school in the ‘84 movie Karate Kid demonstrated an over-exaggerated but not entirely untrue version of this.  It’s not historically the way that karate would have been taught in Okinawa.  Largely, it comes from the American military servicemen who learned karate after WW2 when they were stationed in Okinawa, and then brought it back to the States, combining the karate they learned with their military discipline.  When I started in karate, there was a general misunderstanding that this discipline was in the roots of the Okinawan styles themselves.

     On the other end, you have martial arts schools that are too relaxed and easy-going, with the atmosphere little different from an average gym or exercise class.  If a martial practitioner trains in either environment, she will either develop too much ki energy or not enough.  Neither is good for training ki in the hara when sitting in zazen.  You find both of these extremes, by the way, in many zendos (Zen training halls), as well.

     The best term for this form of ki-developing zazen might be internal energetic cultivation.  It will be easier recognized among practitioners of internal kung-fu styles—such as Tai Chi, Baguazhang, and Xingyiquan—and Qigong than many modern Zen students, particularly those that learned zazen in the Soto tradition.  Although I was taught to sit zazen largely in the Soto-style in the traditional karate dojo of my youth—I must add that I wasn’t taught anything about the difference between Soto and Rinzai, just that it was zazen—being a karate dojo, there was little doubt of a Rinzai influence.  Historically, most Budo practitioners who studied Zen did so in the Rinzai tradition.

     In his book Hidden Zen: Practices for Sudden Awakening, the modern Rinzai (and Aikido) master Meido Moore writes that zazen practice in Japan had the following four functions:

• Calming and unifying the mind

• Radiating vital energy (ki)

• Creating conditions for profound samadhi

• Causing realization to penetrate the body

     With the possible exception of the third function, you can see the benefits the functions would hold for the Budo practitioner.  This might also explain why you had more martial practitioners within Rinzai, whereas Soto’s position is that zazen is “good for nothing” (to use Kodo Sawaki’s words) or even view it as an Other-Power practice.

     The best way to practice is to sit in zazen and just do it.  Once again, don’t do it in too strenuous of a manner, placing undo stress on the hara region, which can lead to a hernia or other physical issues if trained too intensely.  At the same time, again, don’t be too relaxed, “just sitting” without concentration on body posture or breathing.  Breathe gently in through your nose, mouth closed, expanding your hara as you do so, and then out through your nose, allowing your hara to collapse on the out-breath.  Don’t overexpand your stomach on the in-breath.  Let it reach a full but natural expansion.

     The Edo era samurai-turned-monk Suzuki Shosan who practiced an intense form of Zen that he called Nio (named after the two guardian deities of Buddhism), in his treatise Roankyo, wrote this for his pupils: “Beginners should by all means strive for Truth but you must not force yourself to train or to do zazen too vigorously before you realize the Truth.  If you forcefully let out energy and practice zazen in violent ways, you will become fatigued, lose your energy, and it will be of no use.”

Agyo, one of the two Nio guardians, in front of the Todai-Ji temple in Nara prefecture.  Notice the expanded hara, representing his ki power.  (The grainy look of the photo is due to the statue being behind chicken wire.)

     In his book Introduction to Zen Training: A Physical Approach to Meditation and Mind-Body Training, the Zen and Kendo master Omori Sogen, writing about Shosan’s practice, commented thus: “He stressed the use of the energy of Nio, but this does not mean you should put excessive strength in the abdomen.  When standing correctly and holding his sword in a stern attitude, Shosan taught that this was the energized working of Zen concentration.  This matter cannot be fully comprehended except by learning it through one’s own experience… All this should emphasize the concentration of power in the whole body by simultaneously placing strength in the tanden and by infusing the whole body with energy moving away from the tanden… The whole body is brought to a state of zero and spiritual power will pervade the whole body intensely.”

     Although Sogen is writing for the kendoka, the lesson applies to the more “common” forms of Budo such as karate.  “Standing correctly and holding his sword in a stern attitude” applies to the stance and the defensive hand position of the karateka.  When the energy from the hara is cultivated so that it pervades the entire body of the martial artist, he will be better prepared for whatever offensive attack or defensive counterattack that he must unleash with complete spontaneity.  It is the development of the hara that allows for this.

     If you wish to cultivate and develop your own haragei, there are no shortcuts.  There is no “secret method” that can generate ki energy and power.  You must take time each and every day to sit and practice.  You must be as devoted to it as to your regular martial training.  You should reach the point that you are sitting for a half hour in the morning and another half hour in the evening.  At the minimum, you should have at least one 30-minute sit.  It takes dedication but the end result will be well worth it.

Sources

Hidden Zen: Practices for Sudden Awakening by Meido Moore

Introduction to Zen Training: A Physical Approach to Meditation and Mind-Body Training by Omori Sogen

Roankyo or “Donkey Saddle Bridge” (1648) by Suzuki Shosan

     If you are interested in specifics on how to cultivate internal energy in your hara, I recommend both Sogen and Moore’s two books above.  Omori Sogen’s book might be better suited for beginners, whereas Moore’s book is better if you already have at least some understanding and knowledge of Zen and are an experienced meditator (or training in other Buddhist/Taoist/yogic practices of inner cultivation).  Unlike most modern Zen books, it helps that they are both accomplished Budo practitioners in their own right.