Search
Close this search box.

Guy's Blog

Guy frequently keeps this blog updated with thoughts, challenges, interviews and more!

Author: Guy Windsor

Zoe Chandler kicks Miika in the nuts: for The Swordsman's Companion.
Zoe kicks Miika in the nuts: for The Swordsman's Companion.

I get asked this question rather often. Here is my answer, and my reasons for it.

YES!

The underlying assumptions behind the question (which like many assumptions are gross over-simplifications and largely wrong) are that women are physically weaker than men, and less aggressive. Either one of those is apparently a disadvantage in a fight, so might cap your performance at a level so low it makes participation a waste of time.

Let me be absolutely clear: the WHOLE POINT of martial arts is that skill beats muscle. Only when skill is equal (or you are unskilled) does brawn make a difference.

The WHOLE POINT of swords is that they are labour saving devices. It takes very little strength or power to kill someone with a sword.

And the WHOLE POINT of training is that IT WORKS. The weak get stronger, the timid become more bold. The rash learn caution, and those that have relied on their strength learn other ways to win against the day when their strength will fail them.

Let's leave aside the simple facts that a third of my students over the last 15 years have been women, that many of the class leaders and instructors I have trained are women, that the only instructor I've ever invited to teach medieval wrestling at my school is a woman, and that I can think of at least a few women who could soundly kick my arse in wrestling, or unarmed combat, or with a range of weapons from dagger to sword to bow to gun. These women by themselves prove beyond reasonable doubt that women can be excellent martial artists and swordfighters.

However, the question is not, is never, “can I be as good as that person?”. It is “can I be better than the person I am today?” Yes, obviously. I've never known the answer to this question to be “no”.

In asking that question, we can then ask “will swordsmanship training make me a better swordfighter?” The answer to that is invariably “yes”, assuming a decent teacher or group or school.

And the question after that is “will becoming a better swordfighter make me a better person?” That can only be answered by the whisperings of your own heart. If I didn't believe that the answer is often “yes”, I wouldn't teach swordsmanship for a living.

I extend the exact same logic to anyone and everyone, regardless of size, age, (dis)ability, or any other thing. And it makes me furious beyond reason to think how the assumptions of the question, and the frequency with which it's asked, imply that women are so generally assumed to be ‘weak', ‘incapable', or in some critical way inferior.

I've taught a few people to shoot pistols, including my sister and my best friend. My best friend is an experienced martial artist, stuntman, bodybuilder and all that. My sister is a copywriter, with no weapons training or combat training of any kind. My best friend is the only person I've ever seen who actually managed to hit both the floor and the ceiling of the range in the same session. My sister got every shot onto the paper at 25 metres, first with a .22, then a 9mm, and then we had some fun with bigger calibres.

The difference? My friend has seen just about every action movie ever made, and couldn't help acting the shooting. My sister just did everything exactly how I told her to do it, as best she could. Guess which one I'd rather have show up to a sword class?

You might also find these posts on these related topics interesting:

Women's Class (regarding gender-segregated classes)

Swords do not discriminate. Neither should swordsmen. (regarding trans swordspeople)

Gay marriage in Finland? About bloody time. (regarding, you guessed it, gay marriage in Finland)

 

 

 

From Neil's tumblr blog http://neil-gaiman.tumblr.com

Every now and then I come across something that expresses an idea I sort of know and believe, and snaps it into sharp focus. Neil Gaiman’s “Make Good Art” speech did this for me.* You’ve probably seen it already, but I thought I’d break it down into parts, explain why it’s such outstandingly good advice, and use some examples from my own life to show how it has worked in practice.

“When you start out on a career in the arts you have no idea what you are doing”. And this is a good thing. Neil explains that by not knowing what’s possible and impossible, you can break the artificial rules that those that know what they are doing have created, and so you can end up doing incredible, impossible, things that no sensible, knowledgeable person would ever attempt. In my case, move to Helsinki and open a school of swordsmanship. No business plan, no experience running a professional school, not much skill or knowledge of the Art itself; but I had no idea how far beyond my reach it really was, and somehow managed to stretch myself to attain it.

“If you have an idea of what you want to make, what you were put here to do, then just go and do that”. Most people have no idea what they should do, could do, were born to do. But if you do, then pursue it. Neil describes it as a mountain he was aiming for, and so long as he kept moving in the direction of the mountain, he would be alright. This is very like the question I posed in my previous post about How to Plan Your Life. Saying yes to whatever takes you in the right direction, and no to anything that does not, no matter what other benefits it might offer. This takes discipline (some would say pig-headed stubbornness). He also notes that something that you should say yes to in the beginning, because it leads you towards your goal, you might say no to later, because you’ve moved past the point where it is between you and your goal. If you’re in London and want to get to Edinburgh, a ride to York is helpful. If you’re in Newcastle, a ride to York is in the opposite direction. Sure enough, I’ve found over and over that opportunities I would have jumped at 10 years ago, I say no to now because they’d be a step backwards.

Dealing with failure. Neil has failed many times, sometimes through no fault of his own. His solution is simple: only do work that’s inherently worthwhile. That way, if it fails commercially, or in any other way, it was at least worth doing for its own sake. This is an incredibly useful idea, and one I’ve lived by for a long time. My best failures are things I'm still proud of, even though they failed. My worst failures have done more than anything else to spur my development.

Dealing with success. Neil has had more opportunities than most to get to grips with the problems of success. First up is the problem of Imposter Syndrome, which he acknowledges, but has no solution for. It’s just a thing, and to know that Neil effing Gaiman has felt like a fraud for writing stories kind of puts your own imposter syndrome into perspective. I made some critical mistakes in the first few years of my school thanks to the same thing, but that’s another story.

Another problem of success is you have to stop saying yes to everything, because suddenly everyone wants you to do things for them. It’s a hard switch to make, and is related to the email revelation: by answering fewer emails he got more writing done. Think about that for a minute. In essence, he had to figure out what he was uniquely good at, and focus on that at the expense of other things. Productivity is not so much getting stuff done, as allowing inessential things to slide so you can get the important stuff done. (Deep Work, by Cal Newport, is excellent on this.)

“Make mistakes, because it means you are out there doing something.” Less than half the things I try, projects I start, ideas I have, work. But I do a lot of things, and some of them work, and lo and behold, I have a body of good work to look back on. Sometimes the mistakes are really bad, such as when I managed to kill an ailing branch of the school with a single bad email. Sometimes they are merely embarrassing. But you have to make peace with the idea that, as my grandfather used to say, “if you never make mistakes you never make anything”. Surgeons and pilots are excused from this, of course. But by and large, if nobody will die for it, get out and make as many survivable mistakes as you can.

Make good art. “Husband runs of with a politician? Make good art.” This is the core of the speech, and oh my god it is 100% right at every level down to the very bedrock. When shit happens, as shit inevitably does, it really really helps to have a plan. You can’t predict all the shit that will happen, so you can’t plan for all eventualities. But you can determine your core response, and Make Good Art is the best response to have.** It encompasses everything. When life throws you lemons, make (artistic) lemonade. When everything is hunky-dory, make the best art you can. And it doesn’t matter if you’re ‘not an artist’, because, as Neil says: Make your art. Looking after babies is an art. Cleaning streets is an art. Writing really clear contracts, maintaining public order, designing buildings, running an office, creating spreadsheets, whatever it is you do, make it your art. And no matter what happens, respond by making more of it, and better.

One way to know that your art is good, is to do the things that scare you. The things that leave you vulnerable, the things that might fail. And if they fail? Make (more) good art.

I use this all the time, no matter what has gone right or wrong. Especially when some gimp on the internet disparages my work, I just up and make more of it.

This even works when an orange megalomaniac becomes president-elect of the USA. Make. Good. Art.

Secret Freelancer knowledge: “Be good, be reliable, be nice. Two out of three is enough.” This is useful, but it’s one area where I have to respectfully disagree with the master. As one who hires freelancers, you’d better be good, or I won’t hire you, reliable, or I won’t hire you again, and nice, or I will tell all my friends not to hire you. My freelancers are excellent, dependable, and lovely.

And the kicker: the best advice Neil ever got was from Stephen King, when Sandman was doing really well. “This is really great. You should enjoy it.” And that’s really important. To be really good at something you have to be able to see all the flaws, so it’s hard to take real pride in your work. My solution is to put progress over attainment, process over outcome. But also, when the students clap at the end of a seminar, or when somebody brings a book for me to sign, or when somebody says something nice about my work somewhere public, or when I get a particularly good month of book sales, I try to take a moment to acknowledge the moment. To let go and enjoy the ride, as Neil so wisely put it.

There are many other snippets of usefulness in this amazing speech, but my purpose here is not to rewrite Neil’s work and present it as my own; it’s to exhort you to read it, listen to it, absorb it however you may, then put it to work. As Neil put it: “Make interesting mistakes. Break rules. Leave the world more interesting for your being here. Make good art.”

I can’t put it better than that.

*His commencement address at Philadelphia’s University of the Arts, 17 May 2012. You can and should buy it in print in his recent collection of non-fiction The View from the Cheap SeatsAnd watch it here:

**It’s one way of breaking the OODA loop. Observe, Orient, Decide, Act. If you know bad things can happen, you’re less likely to get stuck on “orient” (I know people who have lived in denial for years!). If you have a default response, you can cut “decide” altogether. So you end up with “Observe-Act”, which is the goal of operant conditioning training. Who knew Neil was a martial artist?

Speaking as a teacher, there is nothing more satisfying than finding out that your students have used your material to materially improve their lives in some way, be that as simple as getting better at swordsmanship, or as complex as re-evaluating the entire course of their life. I believe in giving credit where it’s due, and this post is my way of letting someone who has influenced and helped me know about it.

One of the key habits that has lead to my producing so much stuff is that when I hear a good idea, I tend to act on it immediately. Another key habit is I actively look for good ideas to act on, and in the last few years, one of the most rewarding sources of these ideas has been the inestimable Joanna Penn, thriller writer and self-publishing guru. It started when I bought her book How to Market a Book which does exactly what it says on the tin. From the book, I arrived at her podcast, one of half a dozen I listen to regularly. This is an amazing resource for any self-publishing writer, and indeed writers of any kind. There’s something there for everyone. But to the specifics:

By following her advice in How to Market a Book about making friends with influential people, I actually ended up on her podcast talking about swords! This was a nerve-wracking experience for me, being well outside my comfort zone, but has lead to several other opportunities to get my name and work in front of a wider audience. Also, the rest of the advice in that book has been really useful in increasing my book sales directly.

Thanks to the January episode with Ankur Nagpal, of teachable.com, I got the idea to create online courses. I have three up and running now, and more in the pipeline.

Last year I got the idea to write a series of non-fiction shorts, which became The Swordsman's Quick Guide, which is now at 7 episodes and counting. I can’t find the podcast episode that planted that seed, but it was definitely one of Joanna’s.

Thanks to several episodes about or mentioning virtual assistants, I’ve hired one myself, Kate Tilton, who is bringing order to my virtual galaxy.

Thanks to a webinar she did with Nick Stephenson, I have grown my mailing list from about 1200 to over 6000. Specific tactics included making volume one of The Swordsman's Quick Guide free, and including an ad in it for volume 2, also free if you sign up. That by itself added 500 people in a month. Also thanks to Nick, I’ve switched from Mailchimp to Convertkit, and am actually making use of my mailing list.

So if you have any aspirations to write for a living, or you just want a lot of good ideas in one convenient place, go buy all her non-fiction stuff, and go listen to all 220+ episodes of her podcast. That should keep you busy!

And if you’ve enjoyed any of the things I’ve done thanks to Joanna putting the idea in my head, give credit where it’s due!

When my second child was born at the end of 2008, everything went horribly wrong which resulted in my wife losing 7 litres of blood (all of her own and a whole lot of someone else’s), and ending up with an emergency hysterectomy. It was all such a mess that they took an ovary with it. That meant that, once my girls were home (the baby spent a week in intensive care as she was born with an Apgar score of 1. Healthy babies score 8-10; dead is 0) we had a newborn, a two year old, and my wife was recovering from major surgery, after a pregnancy with morning sickness every day for the entire nine months (try puking every day for nine months and see what it does to your resilience), while suddenly going into the menopause at the age of 35.

A difficult time, I think you’ll agree.

So it was no wonder really that about eighteen months after the birth she developed a severe, acute, case of depression. Sitting in the waiting room for five hours wondering if she would live or die was hard. Insisting that she tell me what she was thinking, only to hear that she was working out ways of killing herself, was way harder. She refused to go to a doctor, because she believed that they would take her children away. (This is of course not accurate, not least as there were no grounds to take them away from me.) Tip number one for dealing with depressives: you can’t reason them out of it. Depression is about affect, not evidence. All the data in the world proving that the doctor wouldn’t just take the kids away was irrelevant, she knew that they would, and so would not go. So I had to come up with a different approach. For the benefit of those who may be in a similar situation, here it is.

Own the problem.

Nobody could reasonably say that the depression was my fault, but I am still responsible for my wife’s well being, and her being was far from well. So I had to do something about it. Being a martial artist, I naturally cast the problem in tactical terms. The enemy: the depression. Weaknesses? unknown. Strengths? Unknown, but clearly vast.

Nobody who knows my wife would imagine for an instant that she would ever get depressed. It was not in her nature. But trauma can change everything. And this problem could prove fatal, so there was no time for fucking about.

The first step in every campaign should be:

Recruit Allies

Given that I knew almost nothing about the enemy, the first step was to go through all my friends and acquaintances and gather allies and intelligence. I focussed on women with kids who had experienced depression. A good friend of mine fit the bill perfectly, so I called her to ask advice. And to get a categorical statement that the doctor would not take the children away. (Not that that helped particularly, as people can’t be reasoned out of their articles of faith. But at least I had one ally who had fought the same enemy in similar conditions.)

Next on the list- a doctor. A friend who is a doctor made time for me, and I asked her advice. Her first tip was hugely important: depression is exacerbated by fatigue. So minimise fatigue. Her second was: get professional help (I was trying to!). Her third: look after yourself. This last was especially useful, as of course I was running myself ragged trying to deal with all this, and if I didn’t make time for maintenance, the machine would break and be useless.

Note that these two allies were also spies: people with specialised knowledge of the enemy. So I came away with spies in the enemy camp and the beginnings of a plan of action.

Thirdly I let the senior students at the school know that I would need to take some time away from class. I have the best students in the martial arts universe, and they stepped into the breach without hesitation.

Fourth: I let other friends know what was going on, and many of them helped in all sorts of ways. All of this took less than a day.

Gather Intelligence

The process of recruiting allies, especially my spies, gave me access to a whole load of intelligence about the enemy and how it behaves. I added to this with internet research. But already I had enough data to formulate a plan.

Make a plan, and execute it ruthlessly.

Step one: ideally, step one would have been to take her to a doctor, but she point-blank refused to go. So straight on to step two:

Step two: make more time for sleep. Our normal evening routine has me getting home from work about 9.15pm, then we eat, then maybe watch some TV, then to bed, reading (of course), lights out about 12. It is not easy to go from being at work to being asleep in less time. But I changed our routine, and was fanatical about it. All screens off by 10pm. Lights out in the bedroom by 11pm at the latest. I took over any night-time issues with the kids. This lead immediately to about an hour extra sleep a night (for her anyway!).

Step three: reduce her workload. I took several weeks off work to deal with the kids, and made sure that she spent as much time as possible resting, or doing her own thing. We also agreed to put our younger daughter into daycare earlier than we had originally planned, and not have my wife go back to work. This meant we lost her maternity leave pay. This was going to be expensive, but what is money for? I grew up in places where children died of starvation and related ailments (my father is a veterinarian, who spent most of his working life on aid projects in the third world), so the fact that I could blow every penny we had and the culture we live in would not allow my kids to be homeless or starve, is something that I don’t take for granted, and the conscious knowledge of which gave me a freedom to act that I would not otherwise have had.

Step four: encourage healthy habits. We were already on top of the nutritional aspect; we have always eaten healthily. But I encouraged her to go to the gym, to take Pilates classes and similar, to get out and do something healthy that she enjoyed.

Step five: Professional help. I recruited a friend of mine who is a Chinese doctor (both by nationality and training), and made an appointment for my wife. Local doctors have the worst bedside manner I have ever encountered. They don’t seem to understand that their job is to give comfort to the afflicted- they seem to think it is to tap away at a computer and write prescriptions. For a depressive especially, the feeling of not being listened to is particularly unhelpful. I even arranged for her to go to a private gynaecological specialist, and this dumb arrogant fuck sat there and told her she was not menopausal. She had to break down in tears and demand a hormone test before he’d order one, and when it came back, guess what? Menopause confirmed, HRT prescribed, symptoms improved. This was after the depression had lifted, or I’d not have been able to get her to the doctor in the first place. But my Chinese friend, a professional and dedicated healer whatever your opinion of traditional Chinese medicine may be, gave her an hour of his undivided attention every time, listened to what she had to say, all the while giving her a massage. And not being a “proper doctor” he could not order the social services to abduct our children, so I could persuade her to go. To begin with she was going two or three times a week, and she kept going for some months before she no longer needed it.

Have a backup plan

My back-up plan, if I didn’t see significant improvement in a month, was to hire a doctor to come to the house, and see my wife whether she liked it or not. I can’t make her go to the doctor, but I could damn well make a doctor come to her. Drugs were a last line of defence, and a holding strategy, not a cure. If I had to deploy them, I would have. They bring their own problems, but especially in cases where the depression is long-term and not obviously triggered by trauma of some kind, they may be the only working solution.

We were lucky. The combination of more sleep, less work, and time for herself started working quite quickly, and in about six weeks the depression lifted: my wife came back to me. I could literally see her spirit returning, bit by bit, until she was herself again. You may imagine my relief. I do not imagine that this plan will work with every case of depression- far from it. If someone you love is in that horrible place, you might find this approach useful, is all.

What with losing the maternity benefit, and my wife not working, and the private medical bills, this all cost us a fair chunk of change, enough that it added about a year and a half to our mortgage repayments. Without doubt the best investment I ever made. The fight is not over though; once this animal has tasted blood it is always waiting for the slightest show of weakness to strike again. So I am always watching for fatigue, or the slightest sign of low affect.

It was utterly terrifying to be faced with something so far outside my experience that was threatening my family in such a dangerous and insidious way. God only knows what I would have done without my training. Being able to cast the problem in familiar terms, and come up with a workable plan of attack, was critically important to my mental health, and, I think, to my wife’s.

The system in brief:

1) Own the problem.

2) Recruit allies. You have a support network, use it.

3) Gather intelligence. Find out enough to make a plan.

4) Make a plan.

5) Execute it ruthlessly.

6) Have a back-up plan.

7) Recognise progress, or the failure of plan A so switch to plan B.

One final thing: act fast, act now, and if your loved one can be persuaded to do so, take them to a doctor. Do not for an instant mistake what worked for us as a guaranteed cure. It can’t hurt to arrange for more sleep, less stress, a friendly professional ear, etc., but there is no substitute for qualified medical advice, and if needed, intervention.

Sensible people look at what they have and work from there in the direction they want to go. Visionaries decide what they want to do, then gather the resources they need to do it.

Let’s take a common example. You want to start a company to make an app/make a widget/make a difference, and you need a million dollars. But you don’t have a million dollars, so you don’t start the company, and don’t make the app, the widget, or the difference. A visionary would instead borrow, steal, or in some way gather the necessary money, to get it done.

Let’s take a less common example. A friend of mine at school wanted above all to become a vet, but she was never going to get the ridiculously high exam grades to get onto the incredibly competitive course. So she got into a good university to study much less competitive biology and zoology. With a relevant science degree under her belt, she applied to vet school and got in. It took a couple of years longer than the more direct path, but in the context of a 40 year career, that doesn’t make much difference. That was visionary behaviour.

When I started my school in 2001, I had no money, no students, not a lot of knowledge or skill, and no sensible person would have done it. But having made the decision, I found that every obstacle had a way through or around, and all sorts of people stepped up to help, and sure enough, the school got founded and, with me scurrying like hell to acquire the knowledge and skill, I eventually grew into the instructor my students deserved.

A long time ago I came across this quote from Howard Stevenson, of Harvard Business School:

“Entrepreneurship is the pursuit of opportunity without regard to resources currently controlled.”

And I realised that I was, according to this definition, 100% an entrepreneur. I would just modify it a trifle:

“A visionary pursues their vision without regard to resources currently controlled.”

I have a vision, and I don’t care how much I may lack in terms of resources, aptitude, skills, energy, cash, or any other damn thing. Once I decide to do something, I just get on and do it. You can too. The trick is to start with the goal and work backwards, as opposed to starting with your resources and working forwards. And to decide in advance that you will jump through whatever hoops are necessary to get it done.

safety-guidelines-cover

Safety Guidelines for the Practice of Swordsmanship

These safety guidelines come from my Recreate Historical Swordsmanship from Historical Sources Course and have been adapted from The Duellist's Companion, The Swordsman's Companion, and The Swordsman's Quick Guide part 1: The Seven Principles of Mastery. All of those books are included as downloadable pdfs in the additional course material.

Climb if you will, but remember that courage and strength are nothing without prudence, and that a momentary negligence may destroy the happiness of a lifetime. Do nothing in haste; look well to each step; and from the beginning think what may be the end.

Edward Whymper’s admonition, from Scrambles amongst the Alps, elegantly encapsulates the correct attitude to all potentially lethal activities. Substitute “practice swordsmanship” for “climb”, and there is the correct mindset for any swordsman, beginner or expert. Take it to heart before you start training with a partner.

When training with weapons you hold your partner's life in your hands. This is a sacred trust and must not be abused.

Disclaimer: I accept no responsibility of any kind for injuries you sustain while you are not under my direct personal supervision. During this course you will be taught how to create safe training drills, and I am certain that if you follow the instructions there is a very low likelihood of injury. But if I am not there in person to create and sustain a safe training environment, I cannot be held responsible for any accidents that may occur.

Principles

The basic principles of safe training are:

  1. Respect: for the Art, your training partners, the weapons, and yourself.
  2. Caution: assume everything is dangerous unless you have reason to believe otherwise.
  3. Know your limits. Just because it’s safe for somebody else, does not necessarily mean it’s safe for you. Never train or fence when you are tired, angry, or in any state of mind or body that makes accidents and injuries more likely.

Most groups that keep going for more than a year have a pretty good set of safety guidelines in place. Make sure you know what they are, and follow them.

My senior students routinely train with sharp swords, often with no protection. That’s not as dangerous as it sounds, when you remember that they have been training usually for 5+ years at that point, under my supervision.

Safety first: you cannot afford time off training for stupid injuries. Life’s too short. Whatever training you are doing must must must leave you healthier than you started it. You will not win Olympic gold medals this way, but you won’t end up a cripple either. The path to sporting glory is littered with the shattered bodies and minds of the unlucky many who broke themselves on the way. Don’t join them.

Every time I find myself teaching a group I don’t know, I tell them that the class will be successful from my point of view if everyone finishes class healthier than they started it. Most injuries in training occur either during tournament (highly competitive) freeplay, or are self-inflicted during things like warm-ups. In my school (and other classes) we have a zero tolerance policy on macho bullshit. If any exercise doesn’t suit you, for any reason, you can sit it out, or do some other exercise. If you are sitting it out, a good instructor will ask you why, and help you develop alternatives or work up to the exercise in easy stages, but will never pressure you to do something that might injure you.

This is also true of work-related injuries, like forearm problems from typing, or the ghastly effects of sitting all day. By avoiding the things that will hurt you, you will naturally seek out the things that are good for you. Hungry? Avoid sugar, avoid processed foods, and lo! there’s a fresh salmon salad. Tired? Sleep is better than barbiturates, no?

This requires good risk-assessment skills (I recommend Against the Gods, the Remarkable Story of Risk, by Peter Bernstein) and the courage to take risks that truly serve your overall aims. A safe life is not worth living, but foolish risk-taking will not make your life meaningful.

Try adopting these key habits:

  • Before any new activity, do a risk/reward calculation. How risky is it, and how
    rewarding?
  • Practice saying no to training suggestions: even safe ones. Most people do stupidly
    risky things due to peer pressure. Being able to say no to your peers is perhaps the most important skill in reducing injury rates. If this is hard, make it a habit to decline at least one suggestion every session, until it’s easy.

Equipment

Without doubt the single most important bit of safety equipment is good common sense. Fence according to the limits of your equipment, exercise control and respect the weapon at all times, and you will never have a serious injury. Minor bumps and bruises come with the territory.

There were some masters who believed that the safest course is to fence with sharp weapons and no protection. This is how it was often done in the past until the invention of fencing masks (though there are tournament records and declarations as early as the 14th century that record the use of blunt practice weapons; King Rene d’Anjou’s treatise of 1470 is perhaps the best source). Such masters are right in theory, in that freeplay with sharps is the best way for students to learn absolute respect for the weapon, and the importance of absolute control. There are a few contemporary masters with whom I will fence like this, and there is nothing like it for generating a perfect fencing approach. But try explaining that to the insurance companies, or in the event of a slip, the police or coroner. It was often said in the eighteenth century that you could tell a fencing master from his eye-patch and missing teeth. Never forget that even a blunt blade can break bones. When free fencing, or when practicing drills at speed, it is essential that you wear appropriate safety gear. You do this not for your own sake, though self-preservation does come into it, but for the bene t of your training partner. Your protection allows him to hit you safely.

Choosing protection is a very controversial subject. Too little, and you can end up badly hurt (even in practice). Too much, and you can’t fence properly. Firstly, it is important to establish what style of fencing you will be doing. If you are practising armoured combat, then buy the best fitting, best made armour that you can from an armourer who knows how you intend to use it and has seen what you want to do. This is the hardest style of fencing to appropriately regulate, because accurate technique requires you to go for the least armoured spots (throat, eyes, armpits, joints), but safety requirements obviously prohibit that.

As a general guideline, I recommend the following for most weapons.

  1. An FIE standard fencing mask. This allows you to thrust at the face (a very common target), and generally attack the head. This does have three major caveats. Firstly, it leaves the back of the head open, and you must be very careful not to strike at this target. An added apron of thick leather affords some protection. Secondly, it does not protect the head and neck from the wrenching force of over-vigorous blows. It is vital that you and your opponent learn control before engaging in freeplay. Thirdly it is designed to protect the face from high-speed, light, flexible weapons, not slower, heavier, rigid ones. So continually check them for wear, and make absolutely sure that your weapons are properly bated.
  2. A steel or leather gorget, or stiff collar, to protect the throat. Points can slip under the bib of a mask and crush the larynx.
  3. (For women) a rigid plastic chest guard.
  4. A point-resistant fencing jacket rated at least 500 newtons. Sturdy, preferably padded and/or armoured gauntlets, which should extend at least four inches past the jacket cuff to prevent points sliding up your sleeve. I have twice had fingers broken through unpadded mail gloves, and now use a pair of fingered gauntlets from Jiri Krondak, which cost about 150€.
  5. A padded gambeson, or a plastron. If you are making one yourself, bear in mind that it should be thick enough to take the worst out of the impact of the blows, and prevent penetration from a thrust. All openings should be covered. The collar should be high enough that thrusts coming under the bib of the mask do not make contact with your throat. A plastron must wrap around the ribs, and properly cover the collar bones and shoulders. I usually wear a fencing jacket and plastron (as pictured).
  6. A box for men (called a “cup” in the US). You only forget this once.
  7. Rigid plastic protectors for the knees and
  8. For the elbows, of the sort worn by in-line skaters (worn under the
    clothes for that period look if you prefer), will save a lot of pain, and some injury.
  9. Footwear: on the matter of footwear, few practitioners agree. In the longsword treatises, there are no heavy boots, and certainly no built-up heels.  For a completely historical style, it is necessary to wear completely accurate period clothing at least occasionally, because it can affect the way you move. It does not matter much what you wear on your feet provided that you understand grounding, body-mechanics and footwork, but attaining that understanding is much easier barefoot or in very thin flat soles. Excessively grippy soles can lead to joint injury as you may stop too suddenly, or get stuck when you should be turning (particularly in falls at close quarters). The dangers of wearing too slippery soles are obvious. In the salle I usually wear medieval shoes or ‘barefoot’ shoes (aka five-fingers, or ‘toe shoes’), and recommend a thin, flat sole regardless.

The Sword

Training swords come in three main types. Authentic sharp reproductions, which are used for cutting practice and some pair work with advanced students, blunt swords that try to reproduce the handling characteristics of the sharps, and fencing swords that are designed to make fencing safer. These all have their pros and cons, and you should use the sword that’s right for your style and the kind of practice you will be doing.

It’s perfectly all right to use a wooden waster or something similar to start with, but do not imagine that there is any such thing as a safe training sword. Even modern sport fencing blades engineered for fencing sometimes break and puncture people, and anything heavy enough to reproduce the handling of a medieval or renaissance sidearm is going to be able to do damage.

For specific details on choosing a sword, please see Choosing a Sword, which is included in the additional material on this course.

Looking after your weapon is largely a matter of keeping it dry, clean, and free of stress risers (a stress riser is a weak point, usually a deep nick, which encourages the blade to fold at that point).

Occasional rubdowns with a moisture repellent oil and steel wool or scouring pad, followed by a coat of microcrystalline wax, should keep the blade and hilt clean (follow manufacturer’s recommendations if you have a gilt, blued or otherwise ornamented weapon). Do not be afraid to file down any large nicks, and file off any burrs: this is important from a safety perspective, as the blade is most likely to break at a nick, and burrs can be very sharp. The edges of a blunt weapon should always be kept smooth enough that you can run your bare hand hard up the edge and not get scratches or splinters. Even the toughest and most cherished sword will not survive repeated abuse: the best guarantor of longevity for your sword (and yourself) is correct technique.

Rules of Engagement

Once you have agreed to fence with someone, it is important to agree on rules of engagement. This is partly to ensure safety, and partly to create an environment in which you can learn. The two most simple rules are these:

  1. Confine permitted actionss to the safety limits of your protective gear
  2. Confine permitted actions to the technical range of the least trained combatant. In other words, do not allow face-thrusts when wearing open helms, or throws when one of you is not trained to fall safely. The rules can be adapted further to develop specifi aspects of technique: for instance, you may not allow any close quarters work at all, or even restrict allowable hits to one small target. The idea is to come to a clear, common -sense agreement before facing off. You are only ready for no-holds-barred, totally “authentic” fight simulation, when you can enter such a fight with your judgement unimpaired.

Following the rules of engagement will not make you soft, nor will it dull your edge if it comes to the real thing; rather it it will develop self-control.

These rules apply to all fencing:

  1. Agree on a mutually acceptable level of safety.
  2. Wear at least the minimum amount of safety gear commensurate with rule 1. Confine allowable technique to those within the limits of your equipment.
  3. Confine allowable technique to the technical ability of the least trained
    combatant.
  4. Appoint either an experienced student or one of the combatants to
    preside over the bout.
  5. Agree on allowable targets.
  6. Agree on what constitutes a “hit”.
  7. Agree on priority or scoring convention in the event of simultaneous hits. Usually it is better
    to allow a fatal blow before a minor wound, but simultaneous hits should be avoided whenever possible.
  8. Agree on the duration of the bout either in terms of hits, such as first to five, or in real time.
  9. Acknowledge all hits against yourself. This can be done by raising the left arm, or by stopping the bout with a salute, or by calling “Halt!” and telling your opponent where and how you think she hit you.
  10. Maintain self-command at all times.

Safe Training

In my experience most injuries are self-inflicted. It is far more common for students to hurt themselves by doing something they shouldn’t, than to hurt their training partners. Here are a few simple guidelines for joint safety, which should be followed during all training. I am using the lunge as an example of a stressful action, but these principles apply to any physical action.

  1. The knee must always bend in the line of the foot. Knees are hinges, with usually a little under 180° range of movement. The do not respond well to torque (power in rotation). So whenever you bend your knees, in any style for any reason, ensure that the line of your foot, the line of movement of your knee, and the line of movement of your weight, are parallel. This prevents twisting and thus injuries. This one simple rule, carefully followed, eliminates all knee problems other than those arising from impact or genetic disadvantage.
  2. Whenever performing any strenuous task (such as lunging, or lifting heavy objects), tighten your pelvic floor muscles (imagine you need to go to the bathroom, but are stuck in a queue). This supports the base of your spine, and helps with hip alignment.
  3. Joints have two forms of support: active and passive. Passive support refers mainly to the ligaments, which bind the joint capsule together. This is basically set, and can’t be trained. When training your joint strength, with exercises or stretching, avoid any action that strains the joint capsule. Any action that causes pain in the joint itself should be modified or avoided, as it may damage the soft tissues (ligaments, tendons, cartilage). These tissues have a very poor blood supply and hence heal very slowly.
  4. Active support refers to the muscles around the joint, and these can be strengthened by carefully straining the joint with small weights and rotations. To strengthen a joint you must stress these muscles, without endangering the ligaments. Any competent physiotherapist can show you a range of exercises for building up the active support around your knees, wrists and elbows, where we need it most.
  5. Rest is part of training. Your body needs time to recover, and is stimulated by the stress of exercise to grow stronger. However, the body is efficient, and will withdraw support from any muscle group that is not used, even if for only a few weeks. So regular training is absolutely crucial.

If you can’t lunge without warming up, don’t lunge except in carefully controlled drills. Warming up is essential before pushing the boundaries of what your body can do.

 

If you find this advice sensible and useful, please feel free to share it as widely as you like!

If you would like these guidelines as a handy PDF, then drop your email in the box below and I'll send it to you.

 

You may recall I went to Scotland a couple of weeks ago, and on that trip a select few got to travel to Glasgow to visit the Museum Resource Centre. There we met a curator, Dr Ralph Moffat, who kindly opened case after case of swords, guns, and armour, for us to (literally) play with. One piece at a time, of course, and no actual murder allowed, but still, a morning exceptionally well spent.

As you can see from this photo, I was miserable the whole time.
happy-guy

That's a cinquedea, one of my favourite kinds of blades. They are just so in-your-face, unapologetic, and dear god you don't want ever to be hit by one.

Though Phil Crawley, who organised the trip, seems entirely unconcerned about being stabbed by an early 17th century rapier (a blissful sword- much more agile than some others I've handled, but a proper killing blade nonetheless).

stabbing-phil

(I snagged this picture from Facebook, so if whoever took it would like credit, let me know).

For me one of the highlights, and the impetus for this post, was this extraordinary weapon.

boar-sword-hiltWhich has a blunt blade and a spear tip:

 

boar-sword-tip

And two almighty horns sticking out the sides!

boar-sword-second-crossguard

boar-sword-horns

boar-sword

As you can see, the blade is completely blunt- it's only function is to create space between the spear tip and the handle. This is the only historical example of a boar sword with its secondary crossguard fitted that I've ever got to handle. Why am I so excited? Because Fiore shows one, here:

boar-sword-in-il-fior-di-battaglia

(From folio 24v of Il Fior di Battaglia, Getty MS.) The purpose of the secondary crossguard is to stop a wild boar from running up your blade after you've stabbed it, and goring you (as Mordred did to King Arthur in Le Morte d'Arthur).

This boar sword is obviously a lot later than 1410; I'd put it about 1550-1600, from Germany (experts please chime in if I'm wrong), but still, I hope it's catnip to us Fiore fans.

On the subject of Fiore: I do hope you've seen this awesome piece of work: the Fiore app for Android! it's basically a concordance of the four surviving manuscripts, and oh my, what a handy resource it is!

[Warning: these videos contain some very graphic violence. If you are under 18, and like screen sword fights, please go here instead.]

Game of Thrones is a great TV series, a soap opera of majestic proportions with amazing effects and great stories. It is not, and does not pretend to be, historically accurate in any way. I therefore do not judge it by the same criteria that I would judge The Duellists, for example, which is a dramatisation of actual events. (Great movie. If you haven’t seen it yet, go buy it!)

For fiction of any kind to work it has to ring true. Characters that don’t behave like themselves, or who react to things in ways that don’t make sense kick us right out of their world and back into our living rooms. I don’t for one instant buy the idea that Jaime Lannister couldn’t learn to fight left handed after losing his right. It’s crackers to think that he’d be useless in combat, when he was once a great fighter. Not up to his old standard, sure, but incompetence seems unlikely. It’s a plot device to allow certain situations to exist, which I find annoying.

I tend to judge stage or screen sword fights by the following criteria.

1) is the character’s behaviour in keeping with their character?

2) is their fighting style and skill in keeping with their role?

I do not expect them to do ‘proper technique’ necessarily, unless they are supposed to be highly skilled. I also allow for the fact that stage and screen combat are diametrically opposed to most historical swordsmanship systems I’ve studied. In a nutshell, the difference is when doing stage combat, everyone should see what’s going on, and nobody should die. In real swordfights, nobody should see what you’re doing, and somebody should die.

In Game of Thrones, perhaps the most disappointing moment came when Ned Stark got captured in series one episode 5. You can watch the fight between him and Jaime here:

 

The thing is, these are supposed to be two of the absolute best swordsmen in a very sword-oriented culture. But they are bashing their swords together like they were fighting with sticks. Stupid big blocky parries, the sword dead in Jaime’s hand, it’s a mess. Take a look at this picture:

jaime-holding-his-sword-wrong

See how he’s holding his sword? No grounding, no proper mechanics, his wrist bent, elbow cocked, no sense of the position of the edge, nothing. It’s horrible. It inspired my friend Roland Warzecha to make these embellishments:

jaime-lannister-with-comment

And look at Ned. He’s swinging wildly, and completely unaware of his tactical situation, unlikely in such an experienced soldier (I would hope). Compare that to his fight as a much younger man, here:

https://youtu.be/5aO_CsqfBAo

Now Ser Arthur Dayne and his two swords- yes you can expect me to be a bit sniffy about any fighter dressed in quasi-European clothes in a quasi-medieval-europe setting, using two swords at once. And holding one of them the wrong way round! It’s very silly.

But.

Ser Arthur Dayne is supposed to be a legendary swordsman in a sword-oriented culture. You don’t get to be a legend by fighting like everyone else, and in the context, this fight isn’t too bad. Sure there’s far too much flailing about for dramatic effect, but that’s normal on screen. But Ned is at least as good a swordsman here as he is some 15 years or so in the future (GoT fans feel free to correct my dates). In my experience, as swordsmen age, they tend to get more efficient, not less.

I do wonder though why armour in this culture is so completely useless. If your armour doesn’t protect you from a belly slash, then why the hell would you wear it? In our historical swordsmanship sources cuts are almost invariably done to the head, arm, or leg; thrusts to the face or torso; and in armour, thrusts to the gaps only. You rarely see a cut to the body until much, much later, when cutting swords were often curved, and people fought in shirtsleeves.

[For an explanation of why curved blades cut better, see here. With thanks to Björn Engholm for pointing out my first explanation was sadly wrong. (I'm wrong a lot.)]

The torso is easy to armour, and especially with a straight-edged sword, even normal medieval type clothing offers some protection against a belly slash. But no, belly slashes are easy to choreograph and look cool, so let’s have them. One lovely moment where armour actually works in the wearer’s favour is in this fight, where Ned parries a blow with his vambrace. That’s going to hurt, but it should work in real life.

ned-stark-arm-parry

The business of legendary swordsmen having nonstandard styles is incidentally why I love the Achilles versus Hector spear and shield fight in the mostly dreadful movie Troy. You know, the one where Achilles was NOT GAY AT ALL.

See the crazy shit they pull off? Leaps and twists and using a spear not like a spear, and even having it go behind your own neck like Brad does here? Love it.

achilles-spear-behind-neck

One of the major downsides to being good at swordsmanship is that it tends to ruin movies. I watched A Knight’s Tale sat between two friends; JT Pälikkö, legendary swordsmith, and Lasse Mattila, arms and armour conservator. This is a film in which just about everything that can be wrong historically, is. And as we sat there in the dark, about five minutes in, we stopped being appalled and started to laugh. Because there was nothing about the movie that pretended to be a serious historical film; it was and is an excellently entertaining romp, with, incidentally, some amazingly good jousting scenes. Likewise, Game of Thrones. It’s not supposed to be accurate. It doesn’t claim to be. But I do wish that some of the swordsmen in it were properly trained to use swords like swords. Perhaps I should send the crew a box of The Medieval Longsword?

If you found this post interesting or useful, let me know and I'll dig into some of the other fights… like the one where one character actually ends a mandritto fendente in posta di dente di zenghiaro la mezana- whether he meant to do it or not! Feel free to suggest a scene for me to rant about in the comments.

Last weekend I attended the excellent Smallsword Symposium. I am unusual amongst HEMA instructors in that I do lots of different styles; Armizare, of course, but also I.33 sword and buckler, Capoferro rapier, and even the glorious smallsword. The smallsword was my first historical fencing love, way back in the early nineties, and the first treatise I found and distributed was Donald McBane's Expert Swordman's Companion in the National Library of Scotland. My first two books, The Swordsman's Companion and The Duellist's Companion  were named in its honour.

Anyhow, I digress. The point is, smallsword is bliss, and much under-appreciated in the HEMA world, so it was an especial pleasure to attend an event given over wholly to its elegant viciousness. The event was well run, and well attended, with people coming from Norway, Canada, Germany and even Ipswich, as well as the local contingent from (mostly) the Black Boar Swordsmanship School, which organised the symposium. The Black Boar was founded by two ex-DDS members, Phil Crawley and Ian Macintyre, who I had a hand in training back in the bad old days. My (fencing) kids are all growed up! And having kids of their own…

The format of the event was interesting; just two tracks, beginning with a very basic introductory class for newbies, well taught by Sue Kirk, with a more advanced ‘let's get cracking with a bunch of skills training' class run by Phil running at the same time. This got everybody off on the right foot, and paved the way for the classes that followed. These were mostly ‘have a go at this cool new system' type classes, such as Tobias Zimmerman's survey of Schmidt, and Ragnhild Esbenson's survey of McBane. There were also a few concept classes, such as Milo Thurston teaching proprioception using blindfolds, Martin Dougherty (author of several swordy books) teaching attention to technical detail, and my own ‘how to find and fix any technical problem' class.*

The event included a tournament, and I must say it was amazingly well organised. Simply, the contestants are randomly split into four pools and told to establish a winner in 90 minutes by whatever means they agree on. Absolutely no top-down requirements, just tell us who won. Then the four finalists fence off in pairs. The two losers fight for third place, the two winners for first and second. It worked incredibly well, and I saw some lovely smallsword fencing.

One additional highlight for me was meeting Marco Danelli, the swordmaker. I have often been asked about his swords, and have had to reply ‘they look nice in the pictures but I've never handled one'. Now I can say “dear god, buy one!” No wonder he has a two-year waiting list. I also got to see a couple of Andrew Feest's swords, though sadly not Andrew himself, and oh my, they were both extremely pretty and handled delightfully. Mm-mmm, swordmaking is alive and well in Brighton, I can assure you.

All in all, an excellent weekend, and I look forward to coming back next year. On the Monday we went to Glasgow to handle antique swords, but that's a story for another blog post. One of the swords had HORNS! Stay tuned…

*For the benefit of those that were there (or even those that weren't), let me briefly summarise my class:

  1. Run a diagnostic, find the weakest link. E.g. I'm vulnerable to attacks below the sword arm.
  2. Fix the weakest link, using the method below.
  3. Run the diagnostic again.

The method for fixing the weakest link goes like this:

  1. Distinguish between technical and tactical problems. Technical = I did the right thing but it failed. Tactical = I did the wrong thing. This was a technical class so this process is for technical problems.
  2. Model the problem: recreate it with a partner.
  3. Slow it down until you can get the action right.
  4. Gradually increase the pressure/complexity/difficulty until it starts to fail.
  5. Train it at the level where it works 8-9 times out of 10. 10 out of 10, increase pressure; 7 or less, reduce pressure.
  6. If you can't get it to work, then analyse it in terms of a) timing b) measure c) grounding/structure d) flow/movement. The weakness will be in there.

This class was largely unfamiliar with grounding so we covered that in some detail, with the net result that most of them shifted the way they hold their swords. Success!

In the last 15 minutes we looked at applying the process to tactical problems. It's not much different, it just requires selecting the correct action. For example, learning to identify a feint.

  1. Model the problem: recreate it with a partner.
  2. Slow it down until you can use the correct action (in the case of a feint, a second parry).
  3. Gradually increase the pressure/complexity/difficulty until it starts to fail. Complexity is created by the ‘coach' in the drill either feinting or doing a real attack, forcing you to adapt your actions to theirs.
  4. Train it at the level where it works 8-9 times out of 10. 10 out of 10, increase pressure; 7 or less, reduce pressure

 

The rule of p’s clearly states that ‘Proper planning and preparation prevent piss-poor performance.’ I have found this to be true, so every now and then I carve out time to plan. In the short-term, that’s usually ten minutes or so on a Monday morning to think about what I want to get done that week, or sketching out the structure of a new book. This kind of short term tactical planning saves a lot of time, and is really useful, but it’s not what this blog post is concerned with. I’ve been working on long-term life planning recently, and I thought I’d share the process with you in case you  find it useful.

If you had been keeping track of what I’ve been up to over the last couple of years (not that there’s any reason why you should), you would have noticed that there have been a lot of changes. Moving to Italy for three months; ending my regular teaching at the Helsinki branch of my school; moving to the UK. Part of the root cause of all this is that I have been feeling somewhat directionless for a couple of years now, and that is not normal for me. I’ve been circling around the issue for a very long time, and the circles have been getting smaller and smaller. It has taken me this long to get to the state where I can actually figure out what’s going on, and properly plan for the future.

It came to a head two weeks ago, in the come-down from launching two courses and a book within a couple of months. I set a goal for myself to take a full day off, and to do some long-range planning (not at the same time, obviously. Planning is work).

I make my living from being productive (as most people do, of course), and because I'm self-employed, there is a very close relationship between how much I produce and how much I get paid. Money is a store of value, and so it is very very easy to conflate ‘this project will make money’ with ‘this project is worth doing’. I try to avoid taking on any project that I wouldn’t do for free- in other words, whether it makes money or not, it’s worth doing. It’s impossible to predict which projects will do well financially anyway, so it's a good idea to only do things that also have intrinsic value.

Audatia is a good example. It is, from a personal perspective and from the perspective of serving the art, hugely successful. But while I didn’t lose any money making it, it has paid me precisely no money at all (yet!). Who knows, it might take off, or get made into an app and go all PokemonGo on me. That would be nice. I don’t actually mind though, because our artist and game designer both got paid, and I have this glorious little body of work to call mine.

Still, it’s too easy to confuse money with value, and busy with productive, and productive with worthwhile. So I took the promised day off, which meant that from 9am to 3pm I had no commitments of any kind, and nothing I had to do. I chose to spend nearly two hours training, have a snack, and then go for a two hour walk, pausing for a cup of tea with a new friend. This put me into a non-productive, almost meditative state, where I separated productivity from value in my head. I don’t value my children for their productivity; why should I value myself for it?

This was a necessary precursor to the following day, which I again took off in the sense that I didn’t try to get anything done. I could just think, and wonder, and wander, and do whatever. As it turned out, I spent most of the morning talking to my wife. We figured out the following things:

1) the reason I ‘do swords’ is, as I have said many times, because they have the capacity to hook people out of whatever they are stuck in, and into their best, even knightly, selves.

2) there are many other things I can do that would have a similar effect.

3) In essence, what I really do is get people unstuck. Anything that does that is part of the mission; anything that does not, is not.

There have been clues to this littered through my life for the longest time. For years now, when someone emails me for advice, I have usually added at the end of my answer, “Does that help?”. In other words, does that answer the real question, that may be buried under the question you actually asked? I’d never really noticed it before, but now it’s obvious.

The question “does this serve my ultimate goal?” is an excellent tool for prioritising tasks, projects, and strategies. In the past, the  question was: “does it serve the Art of Arms?” If yes, do. If not, do not do. If it makes no difference, do or do not, it doesn’t matter. And that has lead me to where I am now. Every single time I did anything just for good business reasons, it failed. Everything I ever did with a pure intention to serve the Art has worked one way or the other.

But the reason the Art of Arms should be served is that it has this capacity to ignite a fire in people who might otherwise remain stuck. I have seen it hundreds of times, and it’s the reason that swordsmanship is a worthy profession not just an amusing pastime.

So now the question I ask of every project or task is “Does this help people get unstuck?”

You might reasonably ask how this is actually applied, and how it relates to planning.

I hope you’ve read Daniel Kahneman’s Thinking, Fast and Slow It’s an amazing book, and explains in modern psychological terms what I’ve been doing for 15 years. My conscious mind is  slow, thoughtful, and limited to just a few bits of data (5-9 for most people), so I use it to consider moral issues, and really short-term projects like cooking dinner or writing the next chapter of a book. I use my unconscious mind for anything that requires managing lots of data at once, such as deciding whether I should put energy into a new book, or create a course, or prioritising the projects I have on hand. Conscious thinking isn’t very helpful for that, because it can’t handle all the data at once. The unconscious mind needs direction, or you end up just following the path of least resistance. If I let it, mine would have me watching re-runs of Game of Thrones while shoving chocolate into my face all day. So I set long-term goals or priorities with my conscious mind, and let my unconscious figure out the details. A bit like an emperor giving impossible orders and confidently expecting his generals to just get it done.

Let me reduce the process to its bare essentials and express it as a set of instructions.

1) Set aside non-productive time off, to clear the buffers and detach from actually getting stuff done.

2) When the buffers are clear, look back on what you have done for clues as to where you are going, and think about who you want to be and how you want to help people.

3) Compose a question you can ask of any course of action. Be as specific as possible, and concentrate on values rather than productivity or external validation.

4) Evaluate any course of action in the light of that question.

5) If there is insufficient data, or too much, then let your instinct answer the question for you.

With a clear direction (well, it’s clear to me at least), I can confidently leave the short-term tactical decisions to my instinct. This makes the nitty-gritty tactical planning very fast and easy.

This is an essential process, I think, to any self-employed, self-directed person. I have no set career path, and no employer or boss giving directions, so without this kind of thinking I would have no way of knowing what to do. But I think it is probably equally useful to others in different circumstances. You have only one life and you will come to the end of it, sooner or later. Once your basic needs are met, it would make sense to plot your own course according to an overall goal or set of values, so no matter what actually happens you can live with your decisions and accept your circumstances because you had a hand in making them. “I was doing the right thing but it failed anyway”, is a very different position to be in than “I was acting on autopilot and it all went to hell”.

Of course it is impossible to predict the future, and there is no way for me to know exactly what I will be working on in a year’s time, and whether it will work at all. For example, the idea of creating online courses didn’t even occur to me until I listened to Ankur Nagpal on Joanna Penn’s podcast in January this year. It took me months of planning, preparation, and thought (both fast and slow) to get to the point when I was ready to hit ‘publish’ on the first course, but it was so clearly in line with my inner goals that the decision itself was instantaneous, and when I make a decision, I act on it. I could not have predicted in 2015 that the idea of launching an online course would even occur to me, so any plan would have left them out. There is no point in planning what exactly I will do in 2017. I have set my mission, and will follow my gut, and it will take me there in ways I cannot yet imagine.

 

Search

Recent Posts

Ready to Wrestle?

I’m delighted to let you know that From Medieval Manuscript to Modern Practice: the Wrestling

¡Viva la Panóplia!

I’m just back from the Panóplia Iberica, held in Alconchel, a village in Spain near

Categories

Categories

Tags