Don't Fight Force With Force

There is an old story about a mighty tree and a lowly blade of grass. The grass looks up to the tree, impressed by its girth and its gnarled, weathered bark and wishes to be so strong. When a powerful hurricane comes, the great, old tree is upended, pulled from its roots and left to die, while the tiny blade of grass bends with the wind and survives. Sometimes it is better to bend to a greater force and let it pass by than to try to withstand it head on, or fight back with equal strength. The allegory is apt, I think, for studying the second basic principle of Wing Chun:

Don't fight force with force.

What does that mean, exactly?

As a mother, I watch my children face me head-on on a daily basis. "I don't want to go to school!" my preschooler cries, as I struggle to pull her shirt over her ducking head. She's learning to use the toilet, but has accidents now and then. Does spanking and shouting work? Or the encouragement of stickers and special privileges? Take a guess.

The nail won't go any deeper as I try to hang my favorite painting from the newly-painted living room wall. I slam the hammer down as hard as I can, bending the nail and sending the hammer head careening off to the side, where it makes a glaring, half-moon dent. At that point, it's all I can do not to throw the hammer across the room in frustration.

Don't fight force with force.

Wing Chun was developed by a woman (or so the legend goes). And as strong as many women like to believe they are, there remains a high percentage of us whose bodies will never be as strong as those of the men in their lives. I can admit it--while I know it would never happen, if my husband and I were ever to go head-to-head, he'd most likely lay me out in a matter of seconds. I could never stop his fist from moving forward. But I could send him off course. And it doesn't take much, once you know how to guard your centerline. A well-directed, forceful slap will change the vector of a moving fist. A little goes a long way.

I should point out that I said IF we were to ever throw down. There was one lesson I learned long, long ago, so far back that I'm not even sure where it came from. There is one sure-fire way to keep from ever being hit.

Don't be there in the first place.

Sounds stupidly simple, doesn't it? But think about it: if you're not walking in a dark alleyway, no one can jump you there, can they? If you walk in the middle of the quiet roadway instead of on the sidewalk near the dark and threatening landscaping that dresses the homes in your neighborhood, you'll have a much better view of anyone approaching you, won't you? And more time to react. (I'm assuming, of course, that this isn't a thoroughfare and that you're smart enough to get out of the way if a car approaches you.)

Of course it doesn't address every situation--humans are collective creatures, after all. We like to be around our own kind. Sometimes we forget to check our 6 o'clock. Still, it's an effective technique, in its own right.

Don't want to get hit? Don't be there.

It's as simple as: Don't fight force with force.