Six Toxophological Principles Of Archery
by
H. Kent Craig ©1999
As long as there's been the veil of shared cultural
memories we call civilization, archery has been a component of it. As an one of the arts of war, as a pastime
recreationally, as a means of putting vital animal protean on the family table, as a means of spiritual exploration, shooting arrows by means of a drawn bow has interwoven
itself into the fabric of our collective consciousness and
unconsciousness.
The flight of an arrow is not unlike the flight typically
of our lives. Taking many months for the raw materials to
be prepared for shaping into its eventual usage form, it
starts off from a stationary point in time, quickly
accelerates through its allotted time on the way to its
eventual target and home, experiencing what it can on the
way there, and once all remaining energy is expended on
impact with the target, its purpose done, awaits being
called to the hand of its Master once more.
I learned archery from a Master Archer as a child, and have taught many students over the years. Below are what I consider to be the basic principles of how to be a successful archer,
whether in friendly competition, as a hunter of game, or in combat situations. These principles are nothing new. They are as old as the art of the way of the bow and arrow itself. I've simply articulated them here in my own words, speaking as a late twentieth century teacher of archery in words familiar to both peers and students of this time.
Toxophological Principle #1
You must actually be taught archery by a teacher.
Sure, it's possible to learn enough from books and films
and tapes to be able to draw a bowstring back and let an
arrow fly. But when you're self-taught that way, you have a green novice as a teacher, and almost always will learn
some very bad habits along with having some very bad advice stuffed in your head from a teacher that doesn't know what
they're doing, meaning you.
While archery is not as popular as many other participant
sports, it is popular enough to where, with a little
perseverance and luck, you should be able to find a
qualified teacher living within a reasonable distance from
your home. This teacher may ask for a modest charge for
their time, or may teach you gratis because they enjoy
helping those sincerely wishing to learn. In any case, your time spent with a patient and knowledgeable teacher will be the least expensive with the most measurable return time
you'll ever spend. It costs much more in time to unlearn
bad habits later picked up early than it does to be
properly taught to begin with.
Toxophological Principle #2
All flights to the stars must begin atop a firm and
well-constructed launching platform.
Alluding to Principle #1 to a point, yes, but I'm speaking
more to a principle of establishing a firm physical
foundation atop the deeper foundation of good habits. If an archer is not physically capable of handling the demands of
a reasonable practice schedule or performing well in a put-up-or-shut-up situation, then they're not worth wasting target wear on.
Even with modern compound bows taking a lot of stress off
the back, spine, arms, and fingers, bow and arrow shooting still takes a reasonable amount of physical strength and
conditioning. Unless an archer can shoot a full practice
round and not have their fingers cramp or their legs or
back hurt or otherwise feel noticeable physical effects,
then they're not ready for target competition or to hunt
wild game. Physical fatigue feeds mental fatigue, and
mental fatigue means missed targets or poorly-shot wounded
game that gets away and dies a wasted death.
Archers should do hand exercises such as clinching fists in buckets of fine sand or using spring-loaded
gripper-exercisers to strengthen finger muscles, even if
they use a modern mechanical release. Lying on the floor,
an archer needs to roll and move their back and spine
counter to what side they normally draw the bowstring to,
to release built-up tension in those back muscles, using
yoga-inspired positions and moves. And don't forget to do
exercises to strengthen and improve flexibility of your
feet, ankles, knees and hips, for the joints below your
waist is what truly supports the arrow-launching platform
atop it.
Toxophological Principle #3
Quality of equipment does matter, up to a point.
Of course you want to own the finest bow and arrows that
your budget can afford. Better quality and brands of
equipment usually translates into more bullseyes or
game hit more consistently, and that better consistency
translates into more enjoyment for you, the archer who owns and uses it all.
But once you reach a certain price and bells-and-whistles
strata, then money spent for increased quality becomes
relative, not progressive or absolute. For archers who have to purchase their lot of equipment within a certain total
expenditure range, let me offer this salient point:
best-quality arrows shot from a modest-quality bow will
hit more targets more consistently than modest-quality
arrows shot from a best-quality bow.
Yes, bow quality in and of itself does matter, especially
if the consistency of the limbs isn't correct or if one or
both are slightly warped, etc., but the bow is the means to launch the missile, not the missile itself, and it's the
missle-arrow hitting the target that counts, not the bow hitting the target.
If a bow with a slight warpage consistently launches arrows ever-so-slightly to one clock-point more than the deadaim
center point, that's annoying but can be compensated for,
as long as the arrows themselves have a consistently
predictable flight. That's why spine weights are matched to draw weights, to begin with. If the arrows in your quiver
aren't of sufficiently consistent quality to produce a
consistent flight path, then that factor along with a
non-best bow will produce arrow groupings that look more
like shotgun pellet patterns rather than pistolshot
targets, no matter how skilled you are as an archer.
Toxophological Principle #4
Your point of aim is never the target itself, but the
point of impact where the arrow would land if the target
wasn't in the way.
Without a doubt, this is the single hardest concept to
teach to a beginning archer. This principle has nothing to
do with Zen or other philosophy, nor anything to do with
some mythical concept grabbed out of thin air or pulled from someone's rear. Instead, it has everything to do with understanding the mechanics of arrow launch, flight, and recovery.
When an arrow is launched from a bow, it has a multitude of counter-imposing forces thrust upon it, including: 1) momentum-based torsional torque, because the arrow is at rest one moment and accelerated to hundreds of feet per second the next, 2) lateral torque, or the snake-like, slinking warping of the arrow caused by torsional torque, which makes the arrow want to go every direction but the straight direction it was initially thrust towards, and 3) gravity, which makes the arrow eventually fall off course from its initial accelerant path that had been so violently thrust upon it.
As a projectile thrust down an target path at a certain speed, an arrow never follows a straight line to the target, but instead follows a classic ballistic curve, being thrust up, outside the center ballistic line, back inside it, before finally succumbing to gravity on top of it all. If you're a beginning archer, if you don't notice this ballistic curve initially, you will over time, after you've shot a few hundred or thousand bolts.
Learning that the target is merely an inanimate object in the way of the arrow as it sails down its ballistic path is so, so important to becoming a successful archer. But sadly, many archers never learn this basic concept, relying instead of on the basic feedback mechanism of "me shoot arrow, it hit target down range", rather than being able to visualize the entire path a given arrow would have taken all the way to where it would have landed on the ground way down range, had the target not been its way.
Why is learning this concept so important? Because arrows are never shot in a microgravity vacuum by perfect archers.
Not meaning to be too sarcastic, but if you live long enough to have shot a million arrows, then you'll have shot a million arrows down a million unique flightpaths. The air and atmosphere on a range, whether it be indoor or outdoor, never is constant, is always in a state of perpetual flux. Arrows and bows both react differently to each and every shot made, as the mechanical stresses imparted on them by the archer gently and quietly destroys the integrity of both with each and every shot. You, the archer, imparts a unique imprint on every shot made, as your muscles wear a little with each release, your heartrate and respiration changes second-to-second let alone shot-to-shot, and your concentration and mental processes regurgitate what feedback you get from seeing your arrow hit its intended target or not downrange.
Only by visualizing the entire ballistic path of a given arrow which will be momentarily launched by its totally unique set of circumstances, by seeing exactly where downrange the arrow will shortly land if that pesky target would get out of the way, can one make the infinite and instinctive but necessary adjustments just prior to release that will put the arrow on the path to hit the target where you want, by being able to see its entire path all the way through it and adjust the flightpath so it does indeed hit the target, wind and rain and pumping heart and rising and falling of breath and shaking muscles and hard-focusing eyes be damned.
Toxophological Principle #5
Practice does matter, but only up to a point, and never makes perfect.
I know I'm going to catch flack from other instructors for saying this, but for most archers, practice is necessary but generally overrated. If you had a good foundation of basic instruction initially, then you only need to practice as much you need to stay sharp and focused.
Just like a fine-crafted sword, skill at archery is useless unless and until actually used, and you have stayed in archery because you enjoy the physical poetry of it all, no? Just like that sword, honing too fine an edge means that when the moment of truth comes, that edge might be honed so thin as to break at the first strike of impact, rendering what would otherwise be a fine weapon useless.
If you're a competition archer, you should practice at least three times weekly in whatever competition format you normally compete in, shooting whatever number of flights you normally do so in a given round of a tournament. If you're a bowhunter, you should practice at least twice weekly during bow season using an identical format to how you hunt, i.e., from a treestand or in a grounstalking mode, shooting at least sixty arrows during each practice session. Sure, you might not shoot sixty arrows during an entire bowhunting season actually at game, but sixty arrows twice weekly is not overpracticing; sixty arrows daily during hunting season would be.
And, if you're having a bad day and can't hit the proverbial broadside of a barn right then, then just quit for that day, and don't worry about. Nothing wears on an archer mentally more than not being able to control the uncontrollable, something most archers do remarkably well most of the time. Knowing it's okay to say "screw it" for that day means that you'll not accidentally pick up any minor bad habits you might be trying out that bad day to temporarily compensate that otherwise might up lasting a lifetime.
Practice regularly, yes, practice consistently, have fun doing so, enjoy the times when you're in a "zone" and can pick your quadrant-target within the tenth ring, but don't become a practice junky, and beat yourself up mentally for every missed or misplaced shot, for as much as you are just a human being, arrows are simply arrows and a bow is simply a bow too, and perfection exists only the eye of God, never in the momentary snapshot of a human being shooting an arrow with a bow.
Toxophological Principle #6
Make the target your enemy.
Unless you really want to hit the target, unless it's a really important thing to you at the second you release your arrow towards it's target, you'll miss it. Such a blindingly simple concept, but one often ignored, and seldom taught much anymore.
To be a successful archer who wins in competition, who brings down wild game, or who brings down an enemy in a combat situation, you must find an internally motivating factor that enables you to make the internal and external sacrifices to buy the right equipment, get the right instruction, put in enough practice time, and then when it all comes down to making "the shot", having the confidence and gumption to put the arrow exactly where it needs to go.
Fear isn't usually a good motivating factor for archers, since targets or wild game animals seldom shoot back at you. Greed isn't usually a good motivating factor, because even if you're shooting for a championship trophy or a world-record trophy animal, you'll get little if any money for doing so, and no one outside your immediate family will give a rat's behind anyway. And selfishness and ego aren't much in the way of motivating factors either, for reasons elaborated on previously. So, what's left?
Dispassionate hatred. Not loud, manic, emotional-based anger, since anger simply clouds your judgment and pumps too much adrenalin into your body. Hatred of your target in the form of cool, calculated, even-tempered contempt. Contempt that the target is there. Contempt that it begs to be shot, but is afraid of the hit to come. Contempt borne of a feeling of cultivated superiority on your part that the target is a simply a part of the way of practicing your craft as an archer, and is not worthy of any respect save the honor you show it as a participant in the drama unfolding after the fact of it being shot by you, the honor being yours, not it's. Seething, simmering hatred of the target because only you as Master Of Flights is worthy of respect, not it, try as the target might to command respect.
If not hatred, then another emotion, something to suit yourself. But whatever you use as a tool for commitment, focus, and execution, it must be very real to you on all levels, i.e., emotional, physical, and spiritual, or it's a waste of time and energy. Using a core focus such as hatred or whatever also minimizes that you, as a bowhunting archer for example, will ever catch that dreaded "buck fever", since having tunnel-visioned detached contempt for your target means that by such a methodical way of target "dehumanization" you see the target for what it really is and nothing more; something to be shot as an end-product of your practiced craft, which provides proof of your skill as an archer, nothing more. If you don't take at least some enjoyment of the very real violence perpetrated upon your target by the act of violating its integrity as it's penetrated by an arrow shot by you, even if the target is an otherwise harmless and inanimate stationary butt, then you'll never achieve your full potential as an archer.
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