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Surprise!  I’m publishing outside my normal pattern for awhile.  Stay tuned throughout the week – I’m on a roll!  February 2016’s biggest lesson was about my own learning process.  I’m going to break this down into sub-themes.  Today, let’s trace my progress with Bassai Dai kata by looking at my journal entries…

2/2/16 – Home Dojo

I performed Bassai Dai kata in front of the class.  I’m not nervous in front of my classmates, but it’s still good practice to perform kata when/where there’s no place to “hide,” LOL. I learned the first half of my performance is “all there.”  Second half – I need to be way more confident and really show I know exactly how I’m destroying my enemies.

Tournament in 12 days!  Gotta really buckle down on that!!!  I can do this!!!

2/10/16 – College Dojo

“The dwarf breathes so loudly we could have shot him in the dark.”
– Haldir (The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers by J. R. R. Tolkien)

Every once in awhile College Sensei likes to show the newbie white belts (vast majority of the class every quarter) what Karate looks like at different belt levels.  This also gives us colored belts a chance to practice under simulated tournament conditions.  Today, Sensei had the three of us who are competing on Sunday perform our katas solo in front of the whole class.  As a bonus, we got feedback after.

College Sensei warned me to not get into the bad habit of using loud breathing as a crutch or a substitute for generating power with my body while performing kata.  He’d like me to tone it down, as it’s frowned on by tournament judges.

I had no idea I was doing this.  Nobody’s pointed it out to me before, and it never occurred to me to listen to myself 😉

2/14/16 – Tournament

Third Place Ladies 35 and Older (I was the “and Older,” LOL) Intermediate/Advanced Kata.

Now that I’ve memorized the Pinan series of kata and Bassai Dai, I had a lot of fun watching folks from other styles of karate perform their katas 🙂

2/18/16 – Home Dojo

Given that I’m going to be the highest-ranked student at College Dojo (our brown belt helper moved away), I approached my Sensei before class tonight with a question I traditionally ask when I think I might be ready to test for my next belt, “What do I need to work on with an eye towards testing for my next belt?”  Usually I ask this question closer to the date!

I could tell by the smile on Sensei’s face that he was tickled pink.

Every single time, the answer has been, “You’re good to go.”  But this time was different.

“Relax your shoulders.  Get your speed up.”

Argh.  Things that have been plaguing me for-ev-er…

How many black belts over the course of about a year have said to me, “Relax your shoulders?” I reckon close to twenty.  It’s so bad that at Gasshuku (camp) last summer one black belt sneaked up behind me and grabbed me by the shoulders – he started massaging instantly to prevent me putting an elbow in his gut.  But the point was well taken.  I wish I’d had a massage from every black belt who’s told me to relax my shoulders, LOL!  I’ve been to seminars on body mechanics.  I’ve been to classes under three black belts where the focus was on body mechanics.  I’ve been very slowly improving.  But not as fast as I’d like.

But Sensei wasn’t going to stop at just telling me what he wanted before class.  Early on in class, he lightly tapped the tops of both my shoulders simultaneously and said, “Relax.”  He continued, “There, see?  Your shoulders went down.  Tight shoulders are scrunched up.”

OH!  Light bulb!!!

Throughout class Sensei threw me bones both personally and with tips to the class at large.  Everything I’ve ever heard before.  We moved up and down the floor with sparring basics.  Then we did flow drills involving each of us moving between two rows of people holding the big foam shields and we took turns punching or kicking each shield.  We finished up with a basic kata, then we broke up into kata groups.

Sensei told me to work by myself because the others my rank don’t know Bassai Dai even though they’ve been training much longer than I have.  He took charge of them himself.

I’ve had fleeting moments where I’ve felt fluid and what I can only describe as “free.”  But never throughout an entire kata.  I think that’s why Sensei didn’t have me teach the others – he wanted me to apply what I’d been working on all class to the kata.

Sensei’s wife was with us in class again, and she does a wonderful job with the new white belt kiddos 🙂  So neither my Sempai nor I had to worry about teaching.  She will be coming in once a week from here on out, and she will be part of our advanced training.

I’m immensely grateful to both Senseis for making tonight’s lesson happen for me!

2/28/16 – Home Dojo:  Advanced Class

Big brother has a cold, so he couldn’t make it today.  I had two black belts all to myself for 90 minutes of butt kicking fun.  Oh. my. gosh.  What an honor and a privilege!

So…  Picking the biggest of the many takeaways… Gosh it was hard to choose, but I’d have to say it’s something everyone’s been telling me to do and I haven’t done it.

Make and watch a video of yourself.

And everyone’s right.  It’s an eye opener.  That worked both for seeing the things I need to work on and the things I’m actually doing pretty well.

So  – Bassai Dai kata needs work.  But there are some things I’m doing pretty well 🙂

******************

And I’m continuing to learn.  My techniques are faster due to my looser shoulders, but now I’m working on making distinct stops in between each technique so that the kata as a whole doesn’t look rushed.  To do that, I’m learning to use my breathing to drive the cadence.  Of course I’m also working on form, showing bunkai, etc. etc. etc.  I’ve another tournament coming up soon, then I’m hoping to be allowed to try for a pretty new belt at the end of the month!

More than improving my kata, I also learned some deeper lessons.  I was able to take a barely-learned advanced kata (Bassai Dai) to tournament and did OK with it.  I noted that I had enough experience with a few kata to have fun watching people from other styles perform them.  I started getting in touch with the internal goings-on with my body during kata – namely with breathing and unnecessary tension.  And I learned to listen to the experience of others and do it even if I’m skeptical (ex: make a video).  There’s more to this Karate stuff than meets the eye!

An online acquaintance challenged me and others to look for and document the new things we learned from each class during the month of February 2016.  We were to write about our personal “takeaways” from every class we attended – whether it be a new technique, finally getting a handle on something, or even something more nebulous like a new appreciation for a classmate’s talents.  Not just takeaways, but something that distinguished that class from all the other time we’ve ever spent on the mats.  This was a very time consuming exercise for me because I love narrative.  I’m sure it was also time consuming for my online audience ( +James Bullard and +Jackie Bradbury ) to have to read all that!  I am very grateful for their support.

Because I trained 25 out of 29 days I wrote quite a bit.  This is a good thing because now I have plenty of material for this blog.  So I was thinking about how I can edit down this narrative journal into four to six blog posts.  Further thought led me to an interesting exercise.  “Distill” the material.  I created a very simple spreadsheet and read through February’s journal.  As I went along and after I finished reading I created labels for the themes I saw.

Here’s how 25 learning opportunities (classes, seminars, and tournament) broke down…

My personal process of learning: 11 lessons

Relationships between me and other karateka: 7 lessons

Attitude: 6 lessons

Teaching other students: 5 lessons

Oops, that’s 29 lessons and I only trained 25 out of 29 days (leap year).  I can explain the bad math – it’s not due to multiple concussions!  I allowed myself leeway for the tournament weekend, which included a good bit of physical labor all three days, four hours of seminars on Saturday and the tournament itself.  Special events like this really do give one a boost.

So by the numbers, February 2016’s biggest lesson was about my own learning process.  I am on my own timetable – I might learn some things faster than others or slower than others.  But that’s OK as long as I’m making progress.  I saw how I was stretched and pushed and shaped by my instructors.  I recorded triumphs over old weaknesses and discoveries of new strengths.  And yes, new weaknesses cropped up.  I started trusting more and more that I have the capacity to grow in skill and knowledge.  I’m also grateful for the guidance along the way.

When I first started this challenge I had no idea that February would be such a pivotal month for me.  I am very glad I have these lessons and events recorded.  To summarize:  I’m moving better, I’m now Sempai to College Dojo, and Home Dojo Sensei started an advanced class.  Quite a month for me!  I’ll share more in future posts, grouping journal entries together by theme and sub-theme to show my progress in a particular aspect of Karate over the course of a month.

“Empty your cup so that it may be filled; become devoid to gain totality.”

― Bruce Lee

I hear the groans and see the eyes rolling.  Yes, you.  You’ve read and heard this quote so often that now you just want to stun me with a kick to my jaw, follow up with a sweep and punch me a couple of times for good measure as I fall to the mats.  Well that’s already happened to me, so too bad – you missed your chance to be the first to wipe that smile off my face 🙂

So now you’re sitting back and thinking you’ll waste a few minutes of your life reading yet another trite and sugary analysis of a cliché.  I hope not to waste your time because I have stories to tell and connections to make.  I freely acknowledge some elements of this post won’t be unique.  But I promise some elements will be.

Probably around the same time the man who would later become the head of the Karate organization I now belong to was exchanging teaching Karate for English lessons, I was about three hundred yards away attending preschool.  I haven’t verified this but it’s quite possible there was at least a few months of overlap between my time at the community college’s preschool and when he got started there.

One day the preschool teachers and interns took us wee ones on a field trip to the ceramics class.  We watched some of the ceramics students mold and shape clay.  I was particularly fascinated with the pottery wheel.  Imagine my joy when I was handed a lump of clay!  I was appalled when my classmates hurled theirs to the floor as hard as they could.  I had somehow missed my teacher’s instruction to do so and didn’t know that was part of the plan.  I had already turned away by the time the other kids put their hand-prints in the flattened clay.  I took my little lump of clay and quietly asked the nearest adult if she could teach me to use the wheel.

She sat me down at the stool and put her hands over mine.  As the clay spun in my hands I watched my little lump change shape.  Then I bent my thumbs in response to my tutor’s pressure, and a dimple appeared.  The dimple grew to a hole.  I was satisfied when the lump became something that resembled a volcano and I asked to stop.  My tutor asked if I was sure – she thought I could do more, but my four year old child’s soul said the work was good just the way it was.  My tutor had enough artistic sensibility to recognize that any more shaping and it would be her work, not mine.

I have a hunch both from home schooling my children and from teaching brand new beginners their earliest lessons that there are many times in which a Sensei will have to say, “This student is good for their level – s/he is not ready for more guidance.  Any more input from me at this point will mean this person will not learn how to push him/herself or recognize when to ask for help.  At some point in the future, I can give more input.”

Unfortunately my little clay volcano was never fired and so it did not survive the ravages of time.  If I remember correctly it lasted only about ten years.  So fast forward roughly 42 years to an adult me working at that very same community college.  The college is a very lively place so I get tons of emails about campus events.  Imagine my joy when I read that some of the ceramics students would be selling their work!

I knew what I wanted to purchase.  An Asian-style cup.  Yes, because of Bruce Lee’s quote.  I knew I had a good chance of getting one given the 500 some-odd International students who  I serve in the International Student Programs office and given the many more American-citizen students who have ethnic backgrounds from around the world.  I found the “perfect” cup.

I deliberately chose an imperfect cup.  There are places where the glazes are patchy or where they dripped and ran.  I like that.  It shows a real human being made it, not just some machine that chugs out thousands of look-alikes.  This cup reminds me nobody’s perfect.  Of course a master potter could’ve done a better job.  But the whole idea behind Bruce Lee’s “empty cup” is for us to always be students. This cup is obviously the work of a student, and so is a perfect reminder for me to keep on learning – not just in Karate, but also in life.

So now at least five days a week, my Karate is being molded and shaped by Senseis who learned from Yoshida Sensei, the man who, while I was shaping my little lump of clay, might have been a couple hundred yards away teaching Karate or learning English.  Certainly my little preschool self would never imagine the things I think about when I look at my cup every morning when I get up.

When I look at my empty cup I remember the kindness of the Ceramics teacher or student who sat me down at the potter’s wheel.  I remember that she recognized when to stop.  I remember telling the story to the people who took my money and wrapped my cup in newspaper, and how one of them said I could always pick right up right where I left off 🙂  Maybe some day I will.  I do know someone who has time for both pottery and Karate 🙂  When I look at the cup I purchased from the college I remember that once upon a time there was a young man with a dream about coming to America, a man whose Karate students are now teaching me, a man whose story inspired me to apply for the job I now have helping the college’s International students.  And yes, of course, I remember what good ol’ Bruce Lee said and I try to approach every single day with an “empty cup” mindset – being open to whatever lessons the day has to offer.

Because one never knows what connections are being shaped and how even the simplest acts of kindness and generosity can affect others.

He is a 5th degree black belt.  I am at the time of this writing newly promoted to 6th kyu – five tests down and five more tests to go before I’ll be eligible to test for 1st degree black belt (assuming I’m invited to do so).  He’s studied for decades.  I was a day shy of my 18 month anniversary of training.  We faced each other, bowed (as junior I waited for him to come up first), and at his command we leaped into fighting stance.  We sparred.

Did I go to the hospital barely clinging to life?  Nope.  Did I suffer some permanent injury?  Nope.  Slight injury?  Nope.  In fact, sparring with him was a lot of fun.   Yeah I had to work my butt off, yeah I was tested and pushed hard.  But it was fun.

Wait – wasn’t this dangerous?  It was way less dangerous than getting in to my car and driving home after class.

Control is one of many things that are crucial to good sparring.  In other words, how adept is the person at staying away from off-limit target areas (e.g. eyes, crotch) and can that person lightly tap the opponent in valid target areas while still executing good technique?  I have a bit more control than someone who’s been studying only a couple of weeks.  A fifth degree black belt has way more control than me.  That’s not to say that black belts don’t injure each other or their students accidentally.  It’s just they reduce the odds by exercising control.

Accidents do happen.  In fact, one significant milestone for me was getting accidentally knocked to the mats by, yes, someone who significantly outranked me.  That person wasn’t trying to beat me up and felt awful about the whole thing.  I learned I have what it takes to get up and into fighting stance again, and that was huge for me.  All’s well that ends well, but yes – we do play with fire.

I was actually in more danger from someone brand new to the art.  He is young, tall, and struggles mightily to get his arms and legs to do what they’re supposed to do.  He’s been training for about nine weeks now.  Us colored belts had been warned about newbies in general.  As senior student, this guy was my responsibility.  I didn’t know what to expect the first time I sparred with him.  Within moments, I knew his Sensei wasn’t kidding about the danger.  Fists and feet flailing everywhere, hard blocks…  Ow.  I’m sure given some time and some patient tutoring, he’ll learn how to control the force he generates.

Which man put a bruise or two on me – the fifth degree black belt or the new white belt?  You should know the answer by now.

We’re not street fighting.  If  we really want to whale on something, we get out the big foam shields and the punching bags.  Us karateka might perpetuate the misconception about sparring by joking around about beating each other up or even referring to sparring as “fighting,” or “a fight.”  We need to be sure that new white belts don’t take this too seriously.

A couple of weeks prior to sparring with the fifth degree black belt, I sought out a brand-new white belt who didn’t have a partner.  She was terrified of me.  Seeing this, I simply gave her a moving target and let her figure out her range.  I know how she feels.  I used to be terrified of the upper ranks, especially black belts.  Seven of them have over time knocked that nonsense out of me.  Maybe.  I have a feeling that at some point I’ll be pushed hard again and I’ll have to overcome fear and find the fun again.

Finding the fun in sparring hasn’t been an easy journey for me, and I’ve written about it loads of times.  I still have to remind myself sometimes to find what I call, “The Fierce Joy.”  And again, I’m thinking at some point in the future I’ll be pushed so hard that I’ll revert right back to where I was.   Maybe I’ll even want to quit.  But I won’t because, after all, we’re not trying to kill each other.

And let me tell you, playing with someone who is really, really, really skilled is flippin’ awesome.

One of the Senseis who works with me on a regular basis has told me he would like to see me be more patient when sparring.  I need to either create or wait for opportunities.  Another Sensei put it this way – I’m often so intent on nailing my opponent that I miss the big picture.  I’ve improved some, but there’s still room for more growth.

 

One day, the first Sensei I mentioned called me up to the front of a class to help him illustrate his points about sparring.  I listened to and watched him for cues on what to do.  This is well within my comfort zone and I love helping this way.  It’s a challenge to keep up with the expectations on the fly, and sometimes – surprise!  I end up on the mats twisted up in a pretzel.  All in good fun and for the benefit of us students.  I get to experience the techniques firsthand, which is a good lesson for me in trust, in the importance of control, and in what these movements are supposed to do.

At one point Sensei backed off a bit and I paused in response, but I maintained my fighting stance.  Sensei finished his point and then said, “Now, in the old, old days – sparring was this,” and he suddenly “froze” in fighting stance, guard up.  Not really frozen as in stiff – more like a coiled spring.  I copied him.  I had no clue what to do next, but during a demonstration, one cues off of Sensei.  After an uncomfortable few seconds of us staring at each other, watching each other for signs of attack, I raised a questioning eyebrow.

View image | gettyimages.com

BAM!  Next thing I knew, Sensei had covered the distance between us, coming at me like a spring-loaded freight train.

Sensei explained to all of us that in that style of fighting, one waits for a flinch, a submissive lowering of the eyes, a shifting of the gaze in response to a sound in the room, or whatever other cue that shows one’s opponent is vulnerable and/or distracted.  In my case, it was that raised eyebrow.  Yep, I was too busy communicating and wasn’t spending any brain power observing.

About a month later, this Sensei faced off with another black belt for sparring.  Both men went into fighting stance…  And they just waited.  I grinned, recognizing what they were up to.  I don’t know who broke first, but they both exploded at almost the same time.  A heartbeat later the corner judges’ flags went up, so obviously one was faster.

Patience works.  Impatience and haste doesn’t.  I think that’s one of the things I was supposed to learn, and I’m glad I had this firsthand experience with an “old school” method of fighting.