Participation in martial arts, though slower in growth, improved to 6.9 million participants in the United States, compared to 5.7 million in 2000 during the same span of years. Through the years the disciplines have been streamlined to fit the mainstream, drawing fans who see the bodily benefits.

The flip side, however, is that while many instructors have burgeoning classes, they aren't teaching the spiritual side of the arts. A tradition is slowly deteriorating, getting lost in translation.

"Martial arts are basically for defending yourself from aggression," said Andrew Lum, a tai chi and kung fu instructor. "But sports like Ultimate Fighting, by their very nature, reward people for hurting someone else. And I ask the question, 'What do these people attain from this, other than trophies and lifelong injuries?' "

Lum is among the purists concerned about the morphing of martial arts. Traditional kung fu and tai chi, Lum said, hold values that nourish a person's mind, body and spirit. "True martial arts are, in and of themselves, about things like good behavior, respecting yourself, respecting others. But as Americans, we think of what we can take, not what we can give."

Lum, however, is also a realist about the martial arts movement. He sees the rise in popularity and agrees it is an exciting time for the business aspect of the arts.

Watch the real thing

For a chance to see martial arts in its purest form, head for the Hawai'i Theatre tonight through Sunday to watch the monks of China's Shaolin Temple perform.

For 15 centuries, the monks have lived their regimented, spiritual lives away from the public eye, but more recently, they have created a touring performance that spotlights their practices. Starting tonight, they'll entertain local audiences with a martial arts spectacle.

Their tour is intended, in part, to give an understanding of real Eastern culture.

Still, as good as the Shaolin monks' performance is expected to be, it will only offer a glimpse at the pure past, and not the future.

"These numbers (of participants) are so big that health clubs everywhere are catering to yoga, martial arts and tai chi," SGMA spokesman Mike May said. "Adding instructors for these activities seems to be as popular in Kansas City as in San Diego.

"There seems to be an interesting blend of mental and physical challenges and rewards that make them very popular to Americans."

What's lost?

The Hawaii Martial Arts Center uses colored T-shirts to mark the progress of students.

Billy Blanks' kick-boxing workout program earned him millions.

Students in Harlan Lee's dojo in Chinatown perform a self-defense application.

David Carradine as Caine in the 1970s TV series "Kung Fu." Photos from Advertiser library or local dojos

Tae bo, an aerobic spin on kick boxing, has made a millionaire out of its American prophet, Billy Banks. But long before entrepreneurs realized the commercial potential of martial arts classes, yoga turned on a whole generation of seekers.

Rupali Embry of Yoga-Hawaii has practiced and taught yoga through three decades of changing Western attitudes — from the intellectual trend toward transcendentalism in the '70s, through the fitness practice of yoga today for flexibility and strength.

Through each change, she has managed to preserve the basics of her own experience with yoga for her students.

"In order to even start teaching in a YWCA during the '80s, we were advised to strip out any spiritual language from our classes," she said. "Yoga does then become a more physical practice. But I trust in the power of yoga to bring you to that different, quiet place, even without the spiritual elements. So I wasn't too upset about it."

Arthur Lee, longtime kung fu instructor, isn't too upset, either, although the Shaolin monks today seem so different from his sifu (teacher), Lum Tai Young.

According to Lee, Young had been a Shaolin monk before moving to Hawai'i in the '40s. Lee laments the passing of the "magic" his teacher showed him.

"He showed me some things that, if you don't see it, you're not going to believe it," Lee said. "I learned that the Shaolin monks used a heavenly power, and that's what I think is missing. Nowadays, they're very skilled and they do a lot of jumping around, but I don't think they can do half the things my sifu did."

True, Shaolin kung fu has been an important part of the temple's public image. Over the centuries, the monks practiced a style of kung fu that combined myriad martial arts techniques with the philosophy of Zen Buddhism.

While today's Shaolin monks are also serious about their spirituality, their martial arts mastery has provided them with a forum to dispel some of the Hollywood myths about their temple.

The 1970s television show "Kung Fu" was responsible for many of these: the monk's rite of snatching a pebble from his master's hand, for instance.

"People have a lot of misconceptions about the Shaolin Temple, particularly in America," said Stephen Ho, the chairman of the Shaolin Temple in San Francisco. "We find that this creates a good opportunity to make people aware of the philosophy and science of the temple — the medicine and spirituality, as well as the martial arts."

Lee's own legacy — the Gee Yung International Martial Arts Dragon and Lion Dance Association — has morphed under his son Harlan's leadership in Hawai'i, adding classes in muay thai, a Thai form of boxing, alongside its kung fu curriculum.

"I've been asked about that," Harlan explained, "but basically, kung fu isn't a sport, so I took up the art of muay thai because it's proven to be the best martial art in competition.

"My dad accepted it because I kept the promise he made to his teacher, to keep up the name of the school."

Haru Shimanishi, who runs the Hawaii Martial Arts Center, has a common-sense reason for using colored T-shirts instead of the traditional belt system to mark the progress of his students: "It's Hawai'i. T-shirts are a part of life here."

For his eclectic fighting technique — an amalgam of Japanese, Thai and Chinese martial arts — he credits an epiphany he had while in France to study muay thai.

"I was in culture shock," he said. "The Europeans' kick boxing was so good, but they treated it like a sport. It was friendly, and they were hugging. I thought, what is going on here?"

Shimanishi said the experience changed his way of thinking about martial arts and their cultural implications.

"There had been all these cultural obstructions to being able to see clearly the other country's fighting styles," he said. "With all this information technology we have now, the image of 'karate equals Japan,' and 'kung fu equals China' is gone."

When martial arts legend Bruce Lee wanted to teach kung fu to all comers in the '60s, he encountered a different kind of logic from Chinese martial artists, who initially condemned his plans.

"It's important to understand that Chinese people in America learned kung fu to keep from getting picked on," Harlan Lee said. "We had the reputation of being the 'sick man of Asia,' scrawny and weak. So the community was worried that 'if you teach everyone kung fu, then we can't protect ourselves because everyone will know it.' "

Years later, Bruce Lee's success is largely responsible for the gaining popularity of martial arts in the United States.

It may not be a match made in heaven, but it works.