Karate My Way: A Devolution

I took my first karate class when I was about five years old. Shotokan Karate. At the time, I didn't know that there was more than one style of any kind of martial art and, though I quit going shortly afterwards (something to do with being forced to spar too soon and being afraid), little did I realize how that first class would shape me and my future.
When next I started taking classes, Shotokan again, I was 11 years old. I had just moved from Ohio back to the Mississippi Gulf Coast. I began school and karate classes. I was determined, like so many other youngsters who begin karate, that I would never be bullied again as I had been so often previously.
I rose quickly in rank, never missing a belt test, and never failing one, though that could be considered not so good. I went through the "green belt syndrome" as I call it, that mid-level rank belief that I actually knew a thing or two, though I only ever got in two actual fights in junior high and high school combined. In all, it took four years to get my Shodan just after my 16th birthday. My sensei was like a second father to me. In time, I also became the assistant instructor, leading classes when sensei couldn't make it, teaching the new students when they first came in, opening the dojo early during the week and for Saturday classes. My sensei taught me the best he could, and I benefited greatly from his teaching, wisdom and experience.
I joined the Army, during which time I was unfortunate enough to have to use my training a few times, which nevertheless served me well. I left the Army and attended college. I was exposed to other styles over the years, either because I met someone who studied them, or I sought them out myself, always looking for the next big thing, the next shiny bauble, the next "ultimate" art. From Wing Chun, to Aikido and Judo, to Taijiquan, to Western arts like Classical Pugilism. I remember the first time I began to realize that my karate held all the secrets, techniques, strategies and art that I could possibly need.
When I was taking karate, I ended up learning a kata called Jitte. Jitte means "ten hands" in Japanese, and I was told that the reason this kata was called Jitte is because once you learn it, it is as though you have the strength of ten men. There is a particular technique that opens this kata that is very distinctive.
I happened upon a book by Yang, Jwing-Ming about the combat techniques of Taijiquan, aka Tai Chi. In this book, there is a technique for putting the opponent in a particular type of arm lock, and it looked very similar to that beginning technique in Jitte. The Chinese name for the technique in the book was "shi zhi shou", which translates to, you guessed it, TEN HANDS(!) because your arms end up forming the shape of the kanji for the number 10 during the technique. At that point, I knew that karate, coming from the same southern Chinese area as Taijiquan originally, was much more than the unrealistically long range punching and kicking, dueling style that I had been initially taught.
After much research, I discovered that when karate passed from Okinawa to Japan, it lost much in the way of the original applications of the techniques in the kata, for one reason or another, to change from the close range, locking, trapping, throwing and vital point striking art that it was, to the long range punching and kicking, kendo-like dueling art that it is usually taught as today.
Such began my quest to "re-Okinawa-fy" my karate, my karate "devolution", returning to the older way of kata-based learning, with kata practice and bunkai/oyo drills at the heart of my training, rather than kihon and kumite divorced from kata, with kata practice as an afterthought only taught for testing purposes.
Through the research of kareteka such as Don Came, Chris Denwood, John Titchen, and most especially Iain Abernethy, I have been able to mold my practice of karate into the no-nonsense, practical and efficient self-defense art that it was always intended to be. I have a long way to go, and many bad habits to unlearn that I picked up along the way, but already my sense of distance and timing, as well as power generation and ability to trap and lock, have all improved greatly compared to my previous level of ability. As I age, now being over 40, this newer/older way of practicing and implementing karate, will serve me well into old age.
I no longer need to search outside my original art for answers, for techniques, for strategies, though it is enlightening and fun to do so. I've discovered that punching in older style karate, for example, has much more in common with Wing Chun and Western Classical Pugilism than I originally thought, with the hand not turning over so much and the elbow continuing to point downward. Many "blocks" are actually locks or strikes following after a parry, grip release, or lock. Many "punches" and "spear hand thrusts" are actually throws and takedowns. Even basic ground fighting tactics can be found in my art, once one knows how to see them. Many movements from the kata mirror techniques that can be found in Pencak Silat, Kuntao, and Kali, all from the Southeast Asian archipelago, which were influenced by the same southern Chinese arts that parented and influenced Okinawan karate. Those styles are interesting to look into for this reason.

Due to this different, older focus and perspective in my practice of karate, I felt that I needed to distinguish what I practice and teach from the previous method I was taught (JKA style Shotokan). For that reason, I chose the name Genno-ryu, which I have outlined more fully in another post.
I bow deeply to my ancestors and teachers in the art, and to the many artists who train daily to revive the true essence of karate, and to ensure its flame continues to shine brightly into the future and beyond.