Several Kinds of Fear Encountered in Training

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Several Kinds of Fear Encountered in Training

Several months ago, when we circled up after training, Edgar spoke to us about several different kinds of fear encountered in training: fear of falling, fear of being deprived of air, and fear of being struck. Fear of falling he described as the least distressing for most of us. When I first started training, it took a few months to lose the fear of falling. I remembering how sore my ass was for those first few lessons! But now I don't mind falling, actually, I like it because it helps me to relax. Edgar told us the fear of falling can be exposed even in experienced practitioners under certain conditions. For example, I recall seeing some usually soft students tense up while demonstrating for large crowds at big seminars. I sometimes still hit the ground tense when my partner takes me down in a surprising way, if he speeds up, for example. Fear of falling is not difficult to overcome with practice. Edgar told us, "Make friends with the floor," and that it would change our lives. I feel that losing the fear of falling and rolling is taking an important step on the Systema journey. It's a milestone, or at least, it is to me, for I don't quite feel I've lost the fear of falling to the extent that I know that I am capable. It's a leap of faith, to trust your own body to protect itself against something very hard even when going fast. I have met a few people who are naturally free in this way, without any training. The fear is a conditioned response we acquire as we grow older, and most need practice to overcome it.

As described in the Guidebook, fighting skill should not be dependent on a given set of circumstances, but rather a skill that "cannot be taken away while the practitioner is alive." To resist falling is to waste energy attempting to avoid a particular circumstance—falling down—that may be unavoidable, just as we can't always avoid getting struck. As Edgar told us more recently, "Even the professionals get it sometimes." Some people fear falling because it hurts to fall on the hard floor, and if they tense up, it's even more painful. Other people can fall without hurting themselves, but feel vulnerable on the floor and want to avoid going there at all costs. Even if falling is an unattractive prospect, I think it's good to keep in mind that falling is preferable to a variety of other scenarios, getting slashed with a knife, for example, or shot with bullets. To view falling as a worst-case scenario could prove to be a costly mistake.

A good way to get comfortable with falling is to have your partner push or pull you down gently, or trip or sweep you as you walk. This is a combination of going down on your own terms and being forced to fall. You can also start on the ground and have your partner push or pull or twist one of your limbs so that you must roll. Another good exercise for getting comfortable with the floor is to have the instructor clap their hands periodically as the class walks around, and at each clap the students should fall or roll. It's good to practice all kinds of rolls, forwards, backwards, and side-to-side. Practice rolling to cover ground and rolling in tight quarters, and rolling side-to-side staying as flat as possible (by "threading" one leg through the other in kind of a "4" shape before swiveling your hips to roll over.) Also practice rolling from kneeling and cross- legged positions, and with your hands clasped behind your back, and rolling from side-to-side with hands behind your back, too (you sink down on one knee first, then push that leg backwards and sort of lower yourself down on one shoulder first). Spend some time just laying on the floor and getting friendly with it. You can use the floor as a passive stretching partner just by wiggling around and moving instinctually. Feel the vibe of the floor, and roll around on it like a lazy cat.

Martin Wheeler is amazingly light on his feet, and his demonstrations are always awe-insipiring. He dives toward the ground as if it is a pool of water. We always joke that Martin can actually fly. He told me he loves being on the ground so much that he goes there gladly. Watching Martin, you can see the clear relationship between a willingness to go to the ground and fighting skill. For it's not just the ground, but the broader concept of "changing levels," and the ground just another level. You can also see how free Martin is in his movements, and it's such a joy to watch. Although he would probably say it is just plenty of hard work, I think Martin is a rare talent and there are few like him in the world. But anyone can learn to learn to meet the floor softly with a little practice.

I fear being deprived of air the most of the three fears. We practice this in every class, doing 10 reps of each of the four exercises without breath, lately on the exhale, though we used to do it on the inhale. After doing the initial 20 reps, I'm usually out-of-breath. Edgar gives us a minute or so to restore our breathing, but I find myself still panting, and then I panic when I hold my breath. If I get to class a few minutes late so that I miss the first set of twenty, I do a lot better with the no-breath reps, and I just wish I could restore my breathing a little more quickly. I used to have an easier time with it. I can't think of any other skill that has deteriorated since I began to train. Then again, it could be the heat of the summertime. I think it was a little easier for me to hold my breath in the winter.

Holding the breath is an important skill. It could easily be the difference between life and death, when being choked, or drowned, or exposed to poisonous gases. I find it amazing that my fellow students can do ten leg-lifts without breathing. Edgar told us he's nothing special, and that any ordinary person can hold their breath during ten pushups. Recently I told our kroog that I was having a lot of trouble doing the no-breath exercises, and some people offered advice. Edgar told me that panicking or "freaking out" as he so aptly describes it, uses up oxygen. It's counterproductive. One of my fellow students told me to think about something other than the lack of air, think about doing the exercises themselves, for example. For the other exercises, I don't count. I just keep doing them till Edgar tells us to stop (he doesn't count out loud, except for the slow count ones). I don't like to count because it seems to make them take longer. But for the no-breath ones, I have to count my own, since we all do them at a different pace. I think the counting adds to my freaking out. But I think the biggest factor is losing my breath and not being able to recover it in time to begin the no-breath exercise. Losing my breath is a lesser form of panic, but it's very similar to the feeling of holding my breath. It's hard to believe there are people who can forsake breathing for several minutes!

Fear of being struck has been discussed quite frequently on this forum, so I won't write about it extensively here. But like the other two, it's a unique and personal aspect of the practitioner. I believe our fears reveal a great deal about our personalities. Our relationship to the floor, and by extension, to other objects in the universe, and the way we intrepret strikes, says a great deal about individual relationships to the world at large and the other people in it. According to the Guidebook, you don't want to eliminate fear altogether. It serves an important purpose in fostering survival. But physical fear, flinching, or tensing up at contact, should be eliminated. Mental fear, which warns you of dangerous situations with an almost subconscious signaling, should not be eliminated, according to the Guidebook.

A lot of Systema questions seem to return to the same answer: practice. To lose a fear of being struck, practice accepting strikes from a skilled student or teacher. The teachers really know how to strike a student to help him overcome this fear. They have the sensitivity to make sure the strike is tailored to each students' personality and degree of fear. You can always start out by having your teacher or your partner push the strikes into your body rather than hit you. That is good practice for both partners as the pushing one learns how to properly position the fist and the absorbing one learns how to move while the pressure is applied; both learn how strikes affect the body. A good exercise for everyone, but especially students wary of being struck, is to do your regular sets or a slow- count exercise like a pushup, and have one more more students strike you during the exercise. They should aim for the flat muscular parts and take care to avoid the spine, the kidneys, and other sensitive areas. When done with good intentions, this is like an invigorating massage, and the student rises with a feeling of well-being and refreshment.

Strikes should be delivered with sensitivity, and of course precision. (If I've made this sound simple—my mistake!) Wild haymakers, swinging fists, and flailing arms heighten the fear response. Both partners know when the strike is well-delivered. It makes a different sound and feels different (usually more painful) to the recipient. But it's a different kind of pain. Wild punches can hurt a lot, too, but in a way that seems more aggressive. They generate a different vibe in the recipient. A Systema strike is not delivered with hate or aggression, and I think that makes all the difference in the world.

Sensitivity and relaxation are important when practicing striking while sparring. Tense up, and you will quickly be bruised. Our class has been practicing striking for the last few weeks. One thing I've observed: we all get hit, even Edgar. And most of the students have gotten bruised faces or split lips. This may sound scary, but the thing to remember is that it's all done in a positive and even cheerful way. Everyone smiles, even as they pummel you. Edgar seems to enjoy punching me when I'm not paying attention, I always have to be careful about that when I'm partnered with him. Although Systema strikes can generate a great deal of pain (the phrase "cripple with one blow" springs to mind), striking while sparring is often playful and no-one minds getting hit. The attitude makes it quite a different experience than boxing or point-sparring, for example.

And yet, striking does sometimes serve a more serious purpose, as Demetry described in a recent post, sometimes a student is taken down a notch by a well-placed strike from the teacher. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that Systema strikes can change personalities and even heal the psyche. When I sprained my ankle last year, it was quite painful. I spent a lot of time weeping and groaning in agony and feeling sorry for myself (well, it seemed like a lot of time, it was probably just a few weeks). I asked one of the Systema teachers to hit me a couple of times and I swear it helped with the pain more than all the Tylenol and red wine I'd been drinking (the latter was the doctor's orders, no kidding!).

We train to overcome the physical fear, the panic we feel at the prospect of pain or discomfort, the tension and resistance that come from trying to change circumstances beyond our control. Since fear of the unknown is among the most distressing, familiarity is a good way to overcome fear encountered in training. My advice is to practice diligently and with patience. Do not shy away from your fears or seek to bury them underneath the skills at which you excel. Expose them to yourself and others until they become commonplace. Diligent practice will yield results. Like Eleanor Roosevelt said, "You must do the thing you think you cannot do."