Two Beginnings: My Story

This is in response to an article by Troy Seeling posted on Jackie Bradbury’s blog – Click here to read it!

When I was 13 my parents shoved a Parks & Recreation catalog at me and told me to find something to do.  I tried Karate because I was curious – would I be breaking boards within a week?  What did karate people do anyway?  I was also having trouble with bullies at school.  From the first few minutes I was hooked.  I felt stronger every class, so that kept me at it.  I wasn’t thrilled about doing Karate only twice a week and taking three-week breaks between quarters. My Dad looked into other dojo(s) and found one that met nearly every day.  I spent 3 or 4 years training hard.

My Sensei honored me by asking me to help teach the little kids’ class.  I enjoyed it, but I started getting sick.  All the time.  I even got chicken pox that year!  My training went to pot and my grades at school were in jeopardy from all my absences.  I got so discouraged I quit altogether.  I wish I had simply bowed out of teaching little kids, then I would’ve been fine.  But I was a dumb mixed-up emotional teenage girl and didn’t think of that.  Years went by and I did next to nothing for exercise.  Life happened, I went to college out of state, kids came along, yada yada.

When my kids were little I spent a good deal of time bed-ridden because of illnesses they dragged home.  When my kids were a little older and not bringing in the germs as much, I tried teaching Sunday School at church.  I would always be sick by Thursday.  My doctor did some testing and found out I have IgG subclass 2 deficiency – a fancy way of saying that my body simply does not produce enough of one of the germ-fighting substances the body uses to fight off illness.  So far this winter, I’ve been healthy, but all the kids in my current dojo are old enough to stay home when sick and they practice good hygiene.  That wasn’t the case with the little kids I used to teach when I was a teenager.

I know now I need to be very clear about my future in karate – I have particular dojos in mind where I would love to eventually teach because the demographics are favorable to my condition 🙂

My daughter started training in September 2013 at the community college, took both quarters then continued at the local YMCA.  Secretly I was eating my heart out every time I went to pick my daughter up from karate.  I’d often come early just to watch her.  Sometimes I’d meet her for the light lunch she’d eat before class, and I’d watch the entire class.  I volunteered at tournaments and felt stabs of regret.  I was proud but jealous at promotions.

I had my excuses.  Some I shared, some I didn’t.  My daughter and three Senseis persisted in their efforts to get me on the mats again.  The straw that broke the camel’s back came after a tournament and pizza party in early June of this year.  My daughter said, “You could help me with kata and I could help you with kumite!”

Two days later I was back on the mats.  It was a birthday surprise for my daughter.  I dropped her off at the door of the Y as usual, then parked the car, ran into the locker room, and changed clothes.  The look on her face when I showed up in a gi was priceless.

I survived.  I knew I’d get in shape eventually, so I persisted.  I found that a few things I’d been concerned about shouldn’t have kept me from training again because they simply aren’t a problem.  I’ve re-claimed my love for karate.  I don’t feel middle-aged when I’m in class.  I feel young, capable, and strong.

I keep on practicing because as an adult, I see there are depths and dimensions to the art that I wasn’t able to grasp as a teenager.  There’s enough to keep me busy for as long as I am able to do Karate.  This weekend, I was privileged to be able to watch brown belts earn their black belts.  Among them was a 70 year old gentleman.  If he can do it, I can too.

 

Trash Talk Tuesday – Genetic Fallacy

TTTues
Time to learn how not to make a case for or against someone or something and how to recognize why certain comments set our teeth on edge.

Genetic Fallacy – A Baseless Attack Against the Source.

Daniel:  Mr. Miyagi said, “Secret to punch, make power of whole body fit inside one inch, here.”

Johnny:  And who’s Mr. Miyagi?  A repair man!  What a loser.  What does a handyman know about karate anyway?

It’s OK to check out the source of information and to verify its validity.  That’s good research.  But to dismiss the argument just because it came from an unlikely source is a logical fallacy.  A handyman could very well be a black belt in his spare time.  Johnny’s dismissive and insulting attitude indicates he’s not looking for Daniel to verify Mr. Miyagi’s credentials!

It’s interesting that good ideas can come from bad sources, so we must be careful not to throw the baby out with the bathwater by committing the genetic fallacy.  For example, let’s think about leg sweeps.  Kreese, the evil Sensei from the original “Karate Kid” movie (1984), expressed the idea that a leg sweep is a good way to disable an opponent.  Are we going to drop leg sweeps from our training just because Kreese likes leg sweeps?  That would be ridiculous.  However, if we really want to quote someone, we might just want to find out if Bruce Lee said anything about leg sweeps 😉

Now for a little sparring drill.  Practice keeping a cool head while reading the following:

Karate class is no place for Christians.  Karate comes from those pagan Eastern countries, therefore karate is of the Devil.

Deep breath – in through the nose, out through the mouth!  Let me help you cool down if your heart rate is up a bit.  I’ve read this sentiment in different places but no one has ever said it to my face – in fact there’s a lot of people in my church who think it’s pretty cool I get to do something fun with my daughter. Good job, you got through this drill just fine 🙂

One of many gentle counters to the above fallacy could be:

Fireworks came from Asia, so should we stop using them to celebrate the Fourth of July?

Remember, you’re not supposed to get riled up about logical fallacies.  Recognize them for what they are – all smoke and fury, signifying nothing.  Choose your fights wisely.

If you’d like to learn more, you can follow along in the book The Fallacy Detective by Nathaniel Bluedorn and Hans Bluedorn.

Success

5th and final article in the series, “I Can Do Anything?“

Plenty of time + lots of hard work + tons of help from others = SUCCESS

Success might not look like what you thought when you first began pursuing it

Back in August, my belt test didn’t go quite the way I wanted it to go. It wasn’t my best performance. I could make excuses. It was outdoors at Gasshuku (extended training retreat), not at my home dojo. Whine, whine whine – I was sleep deprived because I don’t sleep well away from home and especially not in a tent. Complain, complain – I don’t like the way shoes flop around on my feet when I kick so I left them off for the entire test instead of leaving them on until kumite. As a consequence, I slipped in the dewy grass a few times. Whine, whine – the other Senseis counting for the other groups testing nearby was distracting. Complain, complain – I’m directionally dyslexic and we weren’t facing the “front” of the “dojo” when we did kata. Whine, whine, whine – we’d already worked out for an hour before breakfast and we’d worked out the evening before, so I was dog tired. So how is it I managed to succeed? For the level I was testing for there is a good bit of grace, but that’s not the whole reason.

I knew some of the challenges in advance and prepared for them. I did everything I could to ensure that I could get some sleep, so that night wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. Besides, I should’ve been able to do everything even if the Senseis had woken me up at midnight for testing! I trained for slippery stuff underfoot. At the latitude I live in, the long summer days mean I can sneak out of the house very early in the morning and do kata on the beach. If the tide’s out, there might be some sand, but for the most part, the beaches here are composed of little smooth rocks that roll under one’s feet (I leave my shoes on – bits of shell and glass are sharp). I’d trained for more than one workout in a day – what I did was barely sufficient but then again, I was pleased to discover I had underestimated my endurance. I didn’t anticipate the other factors. But I did the best I could to train for what I thought might happen.

I could’ve opted wait for the next promotion held in a comfy, air-conditioned dojo on wood floors after a good night’s sleep, only one workout within 24 hours, and a nice, orderly progression through testing each group. But I knew I would always wonder what would’ve happened if I hadn’t embraced the challenge of testing at Gasshuku. I knew my performance was likely to be “off,” so I told myself to keep on keeping on no matter what. I did. But after awhile of making mistakes in my two strongest areas – kata and kihon, I began to think maybe I wouldn’t pass this test. As I shoved my mouth guard in and strapped the fist pads on to prepare for my weakest area (kumite), I told myself it didn’t matter if I passed. I hadn’t shrunk away from the additional challenges. I had tried. I breathed in and looked around me.

I was in a green field under a blue sky. Trees surrounding the field were sighing in a little breeze. The sun was shining down. My daughter was there cheering me on. I was surrounded by extraordinary people doing fun things. I felt like even if I failed, it was a privilege to be there. Then it happened. Right before I walked into the ring, a Bald Eagle called from somewhere very close by. Wow. My heart was filled with joy, and I had new courage to continue. I suddenly didn’t care if I failed – I was going to put my whole heart into my fight just out of sheer delight at being where I was. It turns out my best performance the whole promotion was in my weakest area. I got the belt.

 

Success can come from failure or adverse circumstances

What if I’d failed? Sometimes failure can be a stepping stone on the way to success. I would have learned, trained and practiced diligently, and passed the next test with flying colors. I would still have the memories of being outdoors, barefoot in the cool grass, and that eagle calling. Thomas Edison failed many, many times when he was trying to invent the light bulb but we don’t ever say he was a lousy inventor. As Sensei Andrea Harkins says, mistakes are meant to happen.   OK, but what if I’d slipped on the grass and injured my knee so badly I could no longer do karate?

Stuff happens. Sometimes we are blindsided – hit by catastrophe out of the blue. For that, I refer you to the success story of Joani Earickson Tada. After being paralyzed in a diving accident, she learned to paint. Sometimes we’re cut down by something we simply can’t stand against. Read Corrie Ten Boom’s autobiography The Hiding Place to find out about how a hideous infestation of lice helped her succeed in defying the Nazis right in the heart of a labor camp. Sometimes we’re rejected by someone we were counting on to help us on the road to success. Julie Andrews wasn’t cast for the movie “My Fair Lady” even though she’d played Eliza Doolitle in the theater for years. Instead, Disney hired her to play the title role in the movie “Mary Poppins.” She ended up winning Best Actress at the Academy Awards that year. The road to success for these ladies certainly wasn’t straightforward!

I’d love to succeed with everything going smoothly along a pre-programmed route, but that’s not in the cards. The road to success can be uncomfortable, to say the least. However, you might find your success to be even better than you first imagined it, especially if the journey was rough.

 

Does your success amount to a hill of beans?

“So you got your black belt. That’s nice,” my friend says as she slurps her coffee as an excuse to avert her eyes. I briefly and gently correct her about the rank, then ask about her kids.

“You barely passed? I thought it was an easy test.” Good for you, now go learn the new kata or something 🙂

“Joelle White? I don’t see her listed anywhere in this ancient book about 21st century martial arts.”

Not everyone is going to be impressed or even interested in your triumphs. I think it’s rather silly to not be interested in martial arts, but I have to keep in mind there are people who think it’s rather silly to not be interested in growing vegetables. There are people my rank who tested with me that day who had an easier time and who did better. I can live with that. Is anyone going to remember what I did four thousand years from now? Not likely – not many people today know what happened in 1986 BC. So does success matter? Oh yes it does.

Past success is something to hold onto when times are tough. Past success teaches us how to take the next step and achieve new goals. Best of all, we can tell others about our bumpy journeys to success in order to encourage them to keep pursuing their own goals.

Have you succeeded in something?  Great!  Now set some new goals.

Trash Talk Tuesday: ad hominem

 

TTTues
Trash Talk Tuesday!

Perhaps the easiest logical fallacy to identify is the personal attack, a.k.a. “ad hominem” (to the man).  Again, having a formal label helps us to remember it is widely recognized as not a good way to support your argument.  That makes it easier for us to stay focused when it’s thrown at us.

This one’s so easy you might wonder why we’re bothering with it.  Well, all I can say is basics first, LOL!  I am following the chapters in the book The Fallacy Detective by Nathaniel Bluedorn and Hans Bluedorn.  I’m adapting their lessons to the context of martial arts blogging and commenting, and I’m not going into nearly as much depth as the book.  OK, so here’s this week’s laughably easy lesson…

Daniel:  Mr. Miyagi and I came to your dojo in peace to try and solve the problems between you and me.  Your Sensei shouldn’t have threatened Mr. Miyagi.

Johnny:  You’re a scrawny little pipsqueak.

Clearly, Johnny is having trouble thinking of a good sound reason why his Sensei was justified in threatening Mr. Miyagi.  Ad hominem is very much like Red Herring.  Both fallacies dodge the real issue.  Ad hominem is more personal than Red Herring, but the counter is the same – don’t let it throw you for a loop and don’t let it get under your skin.  Choose your fights wisely!  Here’s some counters Daniel could throw.  Not all of them get the argument back to where it ought to be!  It should be easy to spot which ones show that Daniel is staying centered.

Daniel’s Counter #1: Yeah?  Well your mother wears army boots!

Daniel’s Counter #2: So I’m scrawny – big deal.  But enough about me.  Your Sensei didn’t respond appropriately to me and Mr. Miyagi.  What’s your opinion on that?

Daniel’s Counter #3:  All right then, I’ll see you at the tournament just like our instructors agreed.  I was hoping we could settle some things before then, but I guess that’s just not possible.

Daniel’s Counter #4: I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person.

Help from Others: Encouragement, Teaching, and Support

4th article in the series, “I Can Do Anything?”

Plenty of time + lots of hard work + tons of help from others = success

Encouragement

I was visiting a sister dojo, it was the end of class, and the Sensei asked us for twenty pushups. I was already very tired from a long day and from almost an hour of intense karate. I knew I couldn’t do twenty but I was going to give it my best shot. My arms started to shake before I’d reached the number I knew I could do. I’d also fallen behind the count. I was so frustrated I was fighting tears.

 

 

Someone came alongside me and knelt down. I was too tired and discouraged to care who it was. I hoped I wasn’t in for a lecture. I heard a man’s voice quietly explain, “Form is more important than numbers right now. Tighten your core – don’t sag your belly. You got this. Now down slowly. That’s it. Now up. One more. Down slowly, and up.” The instructing Sensei finished the count and my helper quietly left so I wasn’t able to sneak a glance to confirm who it was.

If the leading Sensei had yelled at me for being weak I probably would’ve reacted badly – probably disrespectfully. I wouldn’t have gotten those extra two pushups out of my arms. Encouragement is powerful. After that class I was motivated to keep working on my pushups on my own. That’s saying a lot because I really don’t like pushups. Every day I now do as many good pushups as I can. Then I do as many as I can on my knees. I stumbled across a trick I’d been missing – I finish with as many “pushups” as I can do by standing up and leaning into the wall. (If anyone has any more tips, I’d be grateful to hear them because my progress is slow!)

For some people, encouraging others is as natural as breathing. Others, like myself, might need a lot of practice at quickly getting past negative emotions to come up with something that will build up, not tear down. I am very glad to have many good examples in my life – THANK YOU! Hearing encouraging words at just the right time feels like water on dry soil. Every time I hear or read encouraging sentiments, I learn something that I can hopefully pass along to someone else some day. Encouragement is one of the many ways others can help us be successful in the dojo and in life.

 

Teachers and Peers

We need teachers to help us along. They are the experts. Teachers have already been where you are. They know what you need to do next. Most importantly, teachers are there to push you outside your comfort zone when you need to be pushed. They give us perspective on what we do. It’s difficult for me to see what I’m doing in karate because I don’t have eyeballs outside my head. Mirrors help a little bit, but how am I supposed to know what to look for? For that I need an expert. Sure I could watch a video to try to learn a technique, but I guarantee if I show one of my Senseis that technique, he’ll spot something I missed. Teachers answer questions like, “What happens if I do it this way?” or “How does this work?” The teachings of an expert is precious and vital to success.

Peers are a blessing too. They are right alongside us, traveling the same road. It’s nice to have company on the journey. We can cheer each other on. We empathize with each other’s challenges. Sometimes when the expert isn’t around, we can at least serve as eyeballs for each other and suggest things to try. Collaboration often produces wonderful results – sometimes even effective new methods of learning. In Karate we work a lot with our peers so we know what our techniques actually do. Good peers aren’t jealous when another excels or receives an award. If we’re contributing to a peer’s success, we feel great about each others’ achievements.

 

Other Helpers

Have you ever thought about the people you don’t always see, but who are also a part of your training? Look around next tournament and see how many workers are not wearing gis or blazers and ties. Our dojo meets at a YMCA, so there’s a whole army of workers whose jobs are vital to the facility – and therefore to my training. For example, there’s a lady who slips into the locker room from time to time in order to keep things tidy. If nobody did that job – yuck! I’d probably get some sort of wierd infection and be out of class for a week. After my last promotion, I thanked my Shallow Water Aerobics instructor for helping me develop strength and endurance. If you really want to blow your mind, think about all the people needed to put together that granola bar you wolfed down before class. Yes, we all need each other!

 

It would take me quite a long time to list everyone who’s been a part of my training. If someone drilled with me, sparred with me, taught me, worked or volunteered at facilities and venues, or encouraged me they’re on the list. Some of the people who have contributed to my training don’t even do martial arts. It’s often difficult to succeed alone – and I think it’s more fun to help and be helped.

What Goes Around Comes Around

I’ve written a lot about receiving help. Let me briefly mention our obligation to give help so that others might succeed. What goes around comes around. Be willing to be a cheerful helper. Someone needs you. Go find out who it is. Encourage. Teach. Walk alongside. Do something constructive when no one’s watching. Help in some way. I guarantee you’ll get more than you give, and that, my friend, is a form of success.

 

Final post in series: success!