Zen and the Maple Tree

In the summer of 1971, I was gearing up for what I thought was the most important moment in my martial arts career. Little did I know how right I really was, yet had no real idea of what was about to unfold.

I had an appointment to meet 8th Dan Master Benny Allen, my Sensei, at a park in East Toronto to take the final part of my black belt exam ... This was it ... The moment of truth ... I was finally getting karate's big prize ... I was so PROUD.

Traveling every weekend to Toronto in order to train was getting very familiar and quite boring. I had been attending classes in London Canada five days a week, and spending Friday night, Saturday and Sunday morning training in East Toronto, sometimes right on the beach during summer, fall, winter and spring. It had been 13 months of physical and mental torment. My body ached for days on end and some mornings, I often wondered if getting up was at all possible. Goju is a tough art. They pride themselves with bodies of granite. Physical contact was inevitable and anyone who knew Benny Allen, the Karateka, knew of the Ki (Chi) he had developed. His strikes were devastating. Bruising and bleeding from simple blows of his hands and feet were commonplace. Occasionally he would slip by fractions of an inch and you were on the ground moaning and gasping for breath. It was brutal ... I loved it.

Merv, my wife’s uncle, also a black belt, sometimes came with me. He was there that day.

I was asked to do Pinans, Passai Dai, Nai Hanshi and Saesan among others. After concluding this, we began the Sanshin and Tensho of the Oki Ki Chi Sai Goju style of Master Allen's we call Ben Wa.

I must admit that at that time there was at least one student much better at this particular type of Goju than I, who practiced with the Sensei and became a very big 'Goju' teacher in Toronto.

Master Allen practiced Shotokan and Chito Ryu as well as Goju in his earlier years. He was also known to spend some time in the back rooms of Chinese Kung Fu families hangouts and learned Chinese striking and blocking. His lightning-like techniques could be attributed to this.

When the grading had concluded, I had passed. I remember the feeling was like no other. I was a 'karate guy' and no one could dispute it ... except, maybe myself.

With bold intent, I said to the Sensei, ... "IS THAT IT"??? ... I was thinking, "don't you want me to do something beyond normal capabilities or something"?

The Master looked at me very calmly and said, come over here with me ... I followed.

He placed himself in front of a Maple tree approximately 10-12" inches in diameter.

He looked at me and said, "I want you to punch that tree as hard as you possibly can.

Without any hesitation, for fear of chickening out or whatever it was, I stepped into a well planted Zenkutsu Dachi (front stance) and fired a punch that could have felled a horse, as they would say.

The result was 'immediate enlightenment' on many levels.

My fist was driven back 1 1/2 inches, relocated all the small island bones in my wrist and slightly separated the Radius and Ulna, the two major bones in my forearm.

Welcome to black belt heaven, I thought, as the pain began to take effect.

I could see this was far from over. Challenging the authority and the wisdom of the sensei is always risky business.

The sensei's voice pierced through the pain, now that we've done one for you, lets do one for me. I want you to kneel down and punch into the grass up to your wrist.

Again, without hesitation, this time it was fear of failing; I knelt on one knee and began punching into the ground. As my punches impacted you could hear a sound much like walking in watery boots. After penetrating into the ground approximately 1-2 inches, the Master said, "Okay Legacy, that's enough, I can't stand it anymore", as he shook his head laughing and walked away.

I was already a black belt. WHAT WAS I THINKING?

Ego seeped out of my very pores. Being a very physical and aggressive martial artist I lacked in humility and understanding of the underlying force of Zen.

Destroying is not the real strength in the martial arts, but defending with true compassion and right mindedness. This is why Zen should be taught as an integral part of the martial arts, not simply pugilistic sport. Eighty five percent of all martial schools will never rise to this level or even know it exists.

Today I bear the scars of the hard earned lesson. My right hand looks like a brick and is weak in many ways. I will carry this living Zen for the rest of my life.

Many times students, who's sensei’s were Benny Allen's followers, approach me and say, "Hey, you're the guy who punched that tree, aren't you? "

I am humbly proud of this. It does place me as one of many students who had trained with this colourful Master. Not because of the scars, but this was martial arts deepest influence on me. I tend to look at it as the band given to me by the martial arts as an acknowledgement of our becoming one, so to speak. After all, wasn't this what I was looking for?

I was the sensei's last student before he passed on. I think of him daily ... I will never forget him. His lesson will live on forever in myself and my followers.

Oh!!! and the Maple Tree? ... It didn't even have as much as the bark marred.

By Hanshi Gary Legacy.

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