JRG: Whatever the initial reason one begins to train, if there is a real, emotional, personal connection to the art and the person begins to incorporate the art into their life, then the realization is that the art is endless. So the quest for internal growth- and maybe internal strength as well- never goes away. We see people like Billy Graham and others who are still researching their own bliss, well past any congregation's ability to understand it. But they are doing it for their own growth. It's the same with my practice, or Mr. Kim's practice; we practice whether we have students or not. We are not practicing for the accolades of the students. I practice every day on my own, outside of the dojang setting, and have for the past 40 years. Having students and being famous is not the object of the art. Making money is not the object of the art. Your own growth is the object of the art. And after a certain point, these long time black belts you mentioned understand this. We have some of them who like to get together on Sundays for their own practice, and they don't need me to be there to pat them on the back and I don't need their accolades. I'm just glad they're enthused about it for their own learning. They get together by themselves and sometimes they just practice basic moves, and sometimes they just beat the stuffings out of one another. What they are learning is that a punch or a kick is one thing in practice with lower belts, another thing in a serious sparring match, and by extension, still another thing on the street. In a real situation. They are attempting to make it as real as possible without getting hurt, and they are doing it on their own for their own growth. This is how the art lives and grows within them.

DM: It seems that this viewpoint- that is, the attempt to make the art as real as possible- must not be unique to Hapkido, yet Hapkido is experiencing a rapidly increasing popularity because of its realism, and because of its versatility, particularly among those who practice TaeKwonDo. Many martial artists from other martial systems are wanting to be instructed in Hapkido. Why is this?

JRG: Well, I can best explain this phenomenon by talking about the TaeKwonDo people I've met. TaekwonDo has had it's own evolutions, and now there is a major split between TaeKwonDo as a self defense and TaeKwonDo as a competition sport. Most of the TaeKwonDo we see in the U.S. is learned, and taught as, a sport- a non-contact or light-contact competitive event. That concept has lost some of its martial aspects, some of its completeness. It's basics are different. The way people train is different. Kicking has changed, punching has changed mostly to score a point instead of knocking somebody down so that they stay down. As long as these non-contact people stick to practicing their art within the tournament context- particularly within tournaments where all the participants train the same and compete under the same rules, then they will be okay, and have lots of fun. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but it must be understood in the context of what it is. If these same people want to think that they are practicing real self defense and they want to spar with somebody that practices martial art as a self defense, then sooner or later, they are going to be embarrassed. Many long time practitioners of this kind of training are beginning to see this discrepancy, and they are saying to themselves, where do we go from here? Hapkido is a natural choice for them. On the other hand, we have isolated pockets of people who practice the old style TaeKwonDo in its martial form who are beginning to evolve with the times as well. In this present day and age, you cannot throw a devastating punch or kick at somebody when a grab or control technique would be more appropriate. For example, if you are a good, say, 4th degree ChungDoKwon TaeKwonDo person and somebody grabs you, and you do what good ChungDoKwon people are trained to do which is to level them with a punch or a kick, you could be in some serious legal trouble. If it is proven that this other person was just some drunk needing to be escorted to another location, then you need to know how to be able to do that without permanently injuring that person. If the attack is more serious, or there is a weapon involved, then you need to have lots of different options for defense. Hapkido is a perfect evolution for those kind of martial artists as well. And these people, the ones who have kept their martial traditions and attitudes, have an easier transition than the sport TaeKwonDo people who have just trained for competition, because those people have to learn their basics all over again.

DM: Aren't all basics pretty much the same?

JRG: Not only are they not the same, the manner in which they are taught is not the same. I read all the time about people who try to teach martial arts in a static movement sense-- you do this technique and that technique, and you have this many techniques required for this belt level, and you do them by steps: 1-2-3-4. Hapkido was never meant to be static. You need to be able to think on your feet, as opposed to, "grab me here, and now I'll do this". Hapkido cannot be learned that way. Hapkido is a moving, living, breathing martial art that evolves all the time. You learn it experientially, by becoming sensitized to changes in distance, in timing, in movement, and in balance. You learn it by paying attention to subtle changes in the relationship you establish with your training partner. You learn to read their energy, and you learn to focus your own. An example of this would be to watch two tournament style TaeKwonDo artists spar. Whatever level they are at, the tendency is for these kind of fighters to maintain a certain distance. The better they are at kicking, the more they will try to stay at the optimum kicking distance from each other. What Hapkido teaches is that if somebody wants to be at a distance, then probably the most efficient way to deal with them is for you to get in close. And if they want to be in close, then you create a distance, or, if you're better at being in close than they are, then you get in close first. The strategy is as flexible as it needs to be, dictated by the particular situation, not by style. It is much more versatile than someone who is only comfortable at the distance of punching or kicking, or someone who only wants to grab you but isn't much of a kicker or puncher. If they want to grab you, that must mean they have a lot of confidence in grabbing, and maybe they are better at that than you are, and you try to counter that, neutralize that with punches, kicks, or by creating an angular advantage. We try to teach strategic awareness. The options are as endless as the situations that can be created, and you learn by dealing with them in a real way. No technique is ever done exactly the same way twice. That's why training itself is endless; you are not just learning techniques, you are learning the ever increasing subtleties of relationship.

DM: You mentioned that a goal of Hapkido training is to "read your opponent's energy." This is a very esoteric concept, and a lot of times it's not understood very well, especially by lower belt ranks. It seems like the harder you try to understand it intellectually, the less able you are to deal with it, or incorporate it into your own learning. But after awhile, after lots and lots of training, you begin to pick it up from your own experience. That seems to be the way you prefer to teach.

JRG: I don't think there is any other way to learn it. It's not an intellectual exercise. It's not just some kind of behavioral trained routine. That's why it takes a long time in this kind of training to be proficient, because there's a lot of repetition, a lot of repetitive information, and a lot of exercises where it has to do with just that experiential kind of contact. Ultimately, the goal is to become like some of these instructors who, like Mr. Kim, there are lots of times when it's like he can read your mind. He can respond to you before you even know what you are going to do, and when you respond to him, he's already one step ahead. That comes from not just knowing you personally, but from training for years and years, for a lifetime. He can feel what's going on because he does it with an open mind. He has transcended the level of, "I'm waiting for you to punch and then I'm going to do my technique". It's more like, "I'm waiting to experience what's going on with you, and then whatever it is you do, I have the confidence to respond to it". When we look at the martial arts historically, at renowned instructors, founders of systems, those people that have written books about their art, like Kano or Mifune in Judo, or Ueshiba in Aikido, these people appeared almost telepathic in their abilities. But it's really about being totally focused in on each person and not worrying about your technique. The conscious attempt of an advanced martial artist is to be totally connected with his practice partner.

DM: I've heard it said that learning technique is not the real art, that learning technique is just a gateway to the real art. This seems to be true in what you are saying, but if teaching technique is what we do, then how are we teaching the real art? It's like some kind of Zen puzzle. How can students relate to such a statement?

JRG: Many people have inferred that Zen itself evolved through the medium of the martial arts. But to address the question, The real art is about learning how to live a conscious, controlled, alert, chosen path in life. What we are training in, ultimately, is intention. If the focus of learning is on technique, then the ability to apply that technique in other than school situations is limited. If the student realizes that the technique is a metaphor for additional life experiences, that the technique is secondary to the person, that technique itself varies with life experiences, then the training becomes more versatile. Sometimes it's more intense, sometimes less. Sometimes it's in movement, sometimes it's in words. Sometimes the instructor will change the basics, or the patterns, or the testing procedures, or the way you line up in class, or even the way you breathe. The idea is to wake up your mind to the moment, whether or not you understand what is going on. The instructor has a reason for what he does, and the students have to trust the information that the instructor is giving them. The idea is for the instructor to help the student find where his physical and psychological limits are, and to push those limits on a consistent basis and in a safe and healthy manner, so that the students can understand that they are more capable than they think they are. If a student is always asking himself, "why is the teacher doing this?" then that student doesn't trust his teacher enough to learn properly. It is the instructor's job to lead an exemplary life and to teach in a consistent manner so that the students can put their complete trust in him. The rest is up to the students; if they can't trust that the information they are receiving is for their benefit, then they need to find another teacher.

DM: In addition to teaching several nights a week at your own dojang, Pacific Rim, you also teach at World Oriental Martial Arts Federation seminars that attract large numbers of martial artists from across the United States. Some of these are very good students, and I have met several good friends from among these people. But there have been those who didn't come with this open mind that you spoke of, who didn't exhibit this level of trust in the material they were presented with. Some even seem to come with their own agenda in mind, such as only seeking promotion, or to show off their expertise. How do you deal with this when it happens?