不怕千招会只怕一招熟 is a Chinese proverb that literally translates as: Do not worry about making a thousand clever moves; what [one has to] fear is one bad move.

Figuratively, this means: Even if you have made many clever moves before, one wrong move will ruin the whole game.

I compare this to the English saying, “It takes only one Aw-shit to wipe out a thousand Attaboys.”

太極拳 is the famous Taoist meditation and martial art exercise. The direct translation of these characters would be something like “grand ultimate fist,” but that does not quite hit the mark for what this title really means.

An early-morning walk through any city in China near a park or an open area will yield a view of Chinese people practicing this ancient technique.

A typical scene is an old man of no less than 80 years on this earth, with a wispy white beard and perhaps a sword in one hand. He makes slow moves that are impossibly smooth. He is steady-footed and always in balance. For him, time is meaningless and proper form, and technique is far more important than speed.

For the younger generation, faster moves may look impressive and seem smooth to the casual observer. But more discipline and mental strength are needed to create perfectly smooth moves in virtual slow motion.

Note: There are two ways to Romanize these Chinese characters, as seen in the title above. The pronunciation and actual characters are the same in Chinese. If you really used English sounds/words to pronounce this, it would be something like “tie jee chew-on” (make the “chew-on” one flowing syllable).

愚公移山 is the Chinese proverb (also somewhat known in Japan and Korea) for “the silly old man moves a mountain.”

Figuratively, this means “where there's a will, there's a way.”

Based on a fable of Lord Yu (愚公). He moved the soil of the mountain in front of his house. After years of effort, he finally moved the entire mountain (some versions of the story have God seeing how determined the man was, and sending two angels to whisk the mountains away).

The moral of the story: Anything can be accomplished if one works at it ceaselessly.

The Japanese version of this is 愚公山を移す (gu kou yama wo utsu su). But better to get the Chinese version, since this is originally a Chinese proverb.

See Also:  Nothing is Impossible

虚実 is a Japanese word that means “falsehood [and] truth” or “fiction [and] fact.”

This concept is used in warfare, gameplay, and martial arts strategies. 虚実 can be a strategy of real and/or deceptive moves. This gets to some Sun Tzu Art of War stuff where in warfare a strategic move is either a real and serious move or it is a deceptive blow.

Let's explore each character in more depth:

虚 was originally written 虛 (there is a very subtle difference in the strokes at the bottom of the character) and means unpreparedness, falsehood, emptiness, void, abstract theory, empty or unoccupied, diffident or timid, false, humble or modest, virtual, or in vain.
In the Buddhist context, 虛 represents the Pali/Sanskrit word “śūnya,” meaning empty, vacant, unreal, unsubstantial, untrue, space, humble, or in vain.
In ancient Eastern/Chinese astronomy, 虛 represents the “Emptiness” constellation (one of the 28 mansions in the sky).

実 was originally 實 in Chinese (they currently write it as 实 in Simplified Chinese) with the meaning, truth, reality, sincerity, honesty, fidelity, and substance.
The Buddhist context is similar, adding real, true, honest, really, solid, definitely, sincere, solid, fixed, full, to fill, fruit, kernel, verily, in fact, the supreme fact, or ultimate reality to the definition.

Chapter 27 of the Daodejing reveals a profound truth about mastery: the highest skill leaves no trace, requires no force, and appears almost invisible.

善行無轍跡， 善言無瑕謫， 善數不用籌策， 善閉無關鍵而不可開， 善結無繩約而不可解。 是以聖人常善救人， 故無棄人； 常善救物， 故無棄物。 是謂襲明。 故善人者，不善人之師； 不善人者，善人之資。 不貴其師，不愛其資， 雖智大迷， 是謂要妙。

The sage moves through life with such natural harmony that nothing seems imposed; doors need no locks, knots require no rope, and actions leave no mark behind.

This is the essence of wúwéi (effortless action), where true ability arises from deep alignment with the Tao rather than deliberate effort.

At its heart, this chapter teaches compassion without exception. The sage “abandons no one and nothing,” recognizing value in all people and all things. Even those who seem flawed or unrefined are not rejected, but understood as part of a greater whole with each person both a student and a teacher in the unfolding of life.

Laozi reminds us that wisdom is not about perfection or control, but about subtle awareness. The truly skilled individual does not rely on tools, rules, or rigid structures; instead, they embody an intuitive understanding that makes their actions naturally complete.

In this way, excellence becomes quiet, effortless, and beyond imitation.

This teaching also reflects a deeper philosophical insight: Opposites are interdependent. The “good” person learns from the “not good,” and the “not good” provides the material for growth. To reject either is to misunderstand the balance of existence itself.

As calligraphy, Daodejing Chapter 27 serves as a reminder to cultivate inner mastery rather than outward display. It is a meditation on refinement, humility, and the quiet power of skill perfected through harmony with the natural order.

Note: The Chinese text used here is based on the early Mawangdui silk manuscript tradition (2nd century BCE). The Guodian manuscripts do NOT preserve Chapter 27 in full form.

拳法 is a form of martial arts that can be translated in several ways.

Some will call it “fist principles,” “the way of the fist,” or even “law of the fist.” The first character literally means fist. The second can mean law, method, way, principle, or Buddhist teaching.

Kempo is really a potluck of martial arts. Often a combination of Chinese martial arts such as Shaolin Kung Fu with Japanese martial arts such as Karate, Jujutsu (Jujitsu), Aikido, and others. You may see the term “Kempo Karate,” which basically means Karate with other disciplines added. In this way, Kempo becomes an adjective rather than a title or school of martial arts.

These facts will long be argued by various masters and students of Kempo. Even the argument as to whether it should be spelled “kenpo” or “Kempo” ensues at dojos around the world (the correct Romaji should actually be “kenpou” if you precisely follow the rules).

The benefit of Kempo is that the techniques are easier to learn and master than pure Kung Fu (wu shu). Students are often taught basic Karate moves, kicks, and punches before augmenting the basic skills with complex Kung Fu techniques. This allows students of Kempo to achieve a level where they can defend themselves or fight in a relatively short amount of time (a few years rather than a decade or more).

Because the definition of this word is so fluid, I should make some notes here:

1. Purists in Okinawa will claim that “Okinawa Kenpo” or “Ryukyu Hon Kenpo” is the original and true version of this martial art from the old kingdom. It is actually little or no connection between Okinawa Kenpo and the way the word is used elsewhere.

2. In Chinese, where these characters are pronounced “quan fa” (sometimes Romanized as “chuan fa” because the Chinese-pinyin “q” actually sounds like an English “ch” sound), these characters do not hold the connotation of being a mixed martial art. It is simply defined as “the law of the fist.”

3. My Japanese dictionary oddly defines Kenpo as the “Chinese art of self-defense.” I personally don't feel this is the most common way that people perceive the word but just something you should know.