(Approx 2 minute 50 second read)

Over the years I’ve watched a lot of people perform kata, and one thing that often stands out is the size of the movements.
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Arms swinging in wide arcs, steps that cover half the floor, hips turned so far that the intent of the technique gets lost.
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I don’t think this happens because people are trying to be theatrical. It happens because the original purpose of the movement has faded, and when the purpose fades, the motion tends to grow.
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The further we drift from close-range understanding, the larger everything becomes.
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When I look at kata, whether in my dojo or others, I always ask a simple question: would this movement make sense with someone’s hands on you? Would it work at the distance where violence actually happens?
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If the answer is no, then the movement is too big. Real situations don’t allow for sweeping motions or long preparations. They demand something tight, connected, and efficient.
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And this is perhaps why so many practitioners struggle to grasp the underlying bunkai. They begin with a movement that is already exaggerated, already too large to work under pressure.
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There should be no wind-up, no telegraphing, no pulling the arm in the opposite direction before sending it forward again. That type of motion creates a split second of unnecessary vulnerability. It opens a window for the other person to strike you before your technique even begins.
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In reality the movement should come from the ground up, just as a boxer generates power from the feet, through the hips, and into the hands. Hit, deflect, move, or grab from wherever your hands already are, not from a position you have to travel away from first. Efficiency isn’t a luxury in close range, it’s survival.
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If you doubt this, try it. Stand less than an arm’s length from someone and perform the movement exactly as you do it in your kata. Ask your partner to come forward with aggression and speed. Don’t adjust it, don’t shrink it, don’t “explain” it, just do it the way you’ve trained it.
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You’ll immediately see the problem. The motion is too big, too slow, too exposed. It simply doesn’t fit the reality of close-range contact.
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Now, I know some will say, “In kata we do it that way, but in bunkai we don’t”. The problem is that your body doesn’t separate the two. The way you train kata becomes the way you move under pressure. If the movement is exaggerated, the habit becomes exaggerated. And that is habitually wrong. You don’t want that creeping into your self-protection, do you?
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In my own kata I prefer to keep the movements small, compressed, and honest. Nothing exaggerated, nothing for show. The body needs to work as a single unit, and that only happens when the kinetic chain is engaged from the start.
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The more you tighten the movement, the more you feel how the body links together, and the more you understand what the kata is actually teaching. Kata should reflect the reality of close-range conflict, not a performance for an empty room.
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The issue isn’t about tradition or aesthetics. It’s about whether what we practice represents the conditions in which these movements were created.
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Large motions might look impressive, but they rarely reflect the pressure, speed, and proximity of real encounters. And the difficulty is that many practitioners don’t even realize their movements have become exaggerated. When something is taught and repeated for long enough, it starts to feel normal. It becomes the “correct” way simply because it’s familiar, not because it works.
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But kata was never meant to be a display of how far the arms can travel or how deep a stance can be stretched. It was meant to record effective answers to close-range violence.
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When movements are tightened back to their functional size, the intent suddenly becomes visible. The technique becomes understandable. The body becomes connected. And kata begins to resemble the practical art it was always meant to be.

Written by Adam Carter – Shuri Dojo