Coping with the Pandemic

Folks, my world is being shaken by COVID-19. My life is changing every single day. The college where I work is a ghost town and next week almost all staff will be working from home. I really miss the students, who are taking their classes online now. Trips to the grocery stores are depressing – empty shelves and people keeping their distance are real downers. I can visit my parents only if we’re outside and at a distance from one another. Even before COVID-19 my husband and I were thinking that declaring bankruptcy could be a viable option, and now it’s looming. My dojo hasn’t met this week. I feel like my world is shrinking, imploding. I am stunned by how much has happened in so short a time.

I took a week off from working out. I needed the time to wrap my head around the new reality and to grieve a bit for the things that need to be set aside for the time being. I came to the realization that I did not need worries and anxieties about Karate on top of everything else that is going on right now. I knew those worries about my Karate were actually quite silly. Ordinarily, I could easily dispel those anxieties with any number of coping mechanisms and just plain hard physical work.

I just didn’t have the energy this past week.

So I let go. Sort of.

I prepared for the weeks to come and these preparations solved a multitude of problems. My husband needs quiet as he works from home – which he’s been doing for several months now. I need an area big enough to accommodate kata (forms) practice. My husband was in a big basement room with an outside entrance to the driveway. I was in a teensy bedroom in the basement. We were using the wrong spaces.

This past weekend my husband and I concentrated on making the teensy basement room into an office. My husband now has a door he can close. No one will traipse through with sacks of groceries. We focused on getting that office functional ASAP. My new workout room was a complete disaster area for most of this week. And that’s OK.

Like I said, I needed time. Emotionally and psychologically, I was drained.

I know exercise is good for what ails you, but sometimes it’s hard to get the motivation to do so. I assured myself with the fact that I never intended to set aside exercise and karate permanently. I knew all I needed was to come back rested and with a fresh perspective on the little hangups that seemed so enormous while I was dealing with the grief and strain caused by the COVID-19 situation.

Wednesday night I felt guilty that the exercise/craft room wasn’t quite done yet. Throughout the week I picked through craft stuff and boxed up quite a bit of it for the thrift store, but there were still a few piles of stuff on the floor. I decided the space didn’t have to be perfect to be usable. I shoved what remained of the mess into a corner of the craft area. As I worked I realized that I was happy. I vacuumed the floor and went to bed excited about resuming my workouts.

The new, bigger space is wonderful. I only have to do a little scootching when practicing the kata (forms) which require the most space. I never realized how annoyed I was at the constant scootching I had to do in the little room. Thursday, when I worked out for the first time since the last class day, I felt free and I felt… Flabby.

Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to set the bar a little lower than it was for just a little while while I rebuild. I’ve lost a little ground physically. Mentally, though, I’m back. Yes I’m sad about the cancelled classes, yes, I feel lonely for my little tribe, and yes I am frustrated that tournaments are being cancelled left and right. But now that I’ve wrapped my head around the other things that are going on in my life I’m ready to deal with this.

I have to stop feeling guilty about the week I took off because it gave me a little bit of breathing room – a little time to gradually work through some things as I prepared my new and better workout space. Of course I’m going to miss my fellow karateka, but I also know how to work out on my own. Prior to the cancellation of what would have been my next tournament I was, like every year, tearing my hair out trying to pass the online test for renewing my kumite (sparring) judging license. Now I have quite a lot more time to study (God knows I need it). I had one excellent tournament before everything was shut down and the 2nd and 3rd place medals I won were good, solid wins against some excellent ladies. Even if all the tournaments are cancelled this season, I will still have the good memories from that one tournament. Most importantly, to me anyway, I have more time and space to improve my karate in preparation for my Shodan (1st degree black belt) test.

Dear reader, my answer to the question, “When will you test?” remains the same: I am preparing for that test, have been since November 2018. Frankly, nothing is certain given the COVID-19 situation. I’m hoping for the best – that all this will be a memory in a month. But… Reality is that I will have to be clever and diligent in my study, and I might have to wait quite a long time to test (which could be true anyway regardless of any stupid virus). God knows I have a LOT to work on. And thanks to the little break I took this week I am ready to buckle down again. I am hoping this discipline will help carry me through the challenges in the weeks and months to come.

Intermittent

As 2019 winds down I am making some choices about how I spend my time. Some of these decisions are tough, some are easy. 2020 will see me letting go of some things and ramping up others. Unfortunately, dear readers, I am letting go of posting on this blog regularly. I will be intermittent at best. Years ago I started out blogging quite frequently – and later recognized my need to scale back. I’m at a similar place now.

I love writing. The discipline of writing about Karate has been beneficial to my mindset and practice. I have enjoyed interacting with those who left comments. There’s also a bit of accountability involved – if I say publicly that I do something or will do something I’d better do it and keep on doing it until I change what I’m doing for the better. Those who have been reading this blog for awhile have seen growth as a result. But blogging biweekly has been something of a strain the last two months.

I’ve reached crossroads not only in my Karate training, but also in my personal and professional lives. I’m not going into the personal and professional crossroads here – except to say I anticipate great things in the coming year. This blog is about Karate, so here are the details of my Karate crossroads.

I’ve already been scaling back in Karate. A little over a year ago I had to let go of helping out with the college PE class. I suppose I could have made it happen but it would have squeezed out other things in my life. Other karateka stepped up to the plate and I’m glad to see them taking on the responsibilities. Earlier this week I let go of my involvement with our karate booster club, which I’ve supported for most of my karate career. I’m still “on call” and anticipate returning in 2021. I don’t plan on competing and judging at Nationals until things settle down in my personal and professional lives. I’ve scaled back some things but I’ve been ramping up others.

I have been actively training for Shodan (first degree black belt) since November 2018. That’s when one of my sensei(s) told me to start training as if I had that invitation to test. I hadn’t yet tested for i-kyu (my current rank). For about 13 months now my mindset has been, “What do I need to do now to make Shodan happen?” While I wait for the formal invitation to test I sometimes tinker with the structure and content of the workouts and practice I do at home. I know I’ll continue to adjust as new things come up, and that’s OK. I anticipate this hard work will pay off and lead to big things – if not in 2020, then some other year.

But blogging isn’t one of those big things. I’ll maybe check in a few times in the coming year, write an article here and there…

When I first started this blog I drifted between aping other bloggers and trying to find my own groove. It didn’t take all that long for me to figure out that autobiography and introspection came more naturally to me than anything else. I don’t know why some of my earliest posts drifted away from my original idea to record my Karate journey right from the start.

I pretty much got the idea to start blogging after I read Smile at Strangers and Other Life Lessons by Susan Schorn. I loved this book. It spoke to me in many ways. Yet I wanted to know more about what she experienced when she was a beginner like me. When I started this blog I wanted to document the beginning of my Karate journey from the perspective of a beginner, not retrospectively, as Susan Schorn had. It’s OK – the whole point of her book was lessons she’d learned, and honestly she got right to the meat and skimmed over the baby food. I just wanted to do my own thing.

And I have.

Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t “arrived.” I haven’t “finished.” I don’t consider myself to be in some sort of a “holding pattern” while waiting for the invitation to test for Shodan. As this blog’s banner says, ” I will always be beginning something new and will always be discovering my abilities. ” I’ve probably promised before now that this blog won’t stop when I reach Shodan because Shodan is a new beginning. Yet here I am trying to keep way too many balls in the air. I need to let go of posting regularly.

Honestly, there’s not all that much more I really want to write. I fear repeating myself. I know there’s nothing wrong with learning the same lesson on a deeper level, but I have trouble making repetition into a good blog. Also, as I’ve written before, there are some things that are best left private. Sometimes these things are negative, sometimes these things simply involve someone’s privacy… These things are part of life in the dojo and therefore are also part of the karate journey. I’m also finding myself increasingly reluctant to write about some of the most exciting things about learning and growing in the art of Karate.

I’m finding that there are quite a lot of treasures and discoveries that I want to keep to myself. I have been reading Andrea Harkins’ blog for longer than I’ve been writing my own. I recall her writing at least once that there are some really wonderful treasures that are best kept “secret.” These are not negative secrets designed to hurt or exclude. Neither are these “secrets” some sort of woo-woo magic Karate tricks taught only to certain ranks. These little gems are a lot like Christmas presents. Secrecy is best for those kinds of gifts.

Anyhow, that’s what’s going on with me nowadays. I’ve been getting loads of “Christmas presents” all along, but it just seems like it’s getting harder and harder for me to want to try and describe them here in this blog. I’m not a tech writer nor am I a philosopher. My strength is narrative, and my material is limited (out of respect for others) and starting to cycle. That and I need to cut back on some things in my life. Cutting way back on blogging was a hard decision to make, but necessary.

Greater things are ahead. I’ll stay in touch as best I can: intermittently.

Instant Decision

Draw attention to yourself. Sabotage your kidnapper’s vehicle if you can safely do so. Everything I’ve read about abduction, every video I’ve shown my children about kidnapping teaches this. One afternoon while stopped at a red light I was quite surprised to see a car’s passenger-side front door open. A pair of adult legs popped out but no person followed. The legs kicked a little. Something was wrong. I pulled my car over to the shoulder of the road beside the vehicle.

As I opened my car door I could hear yelling. My husband and I got out of my car. I cautiously turned towards the open door of the other vehicle. No weapons were evident – I’d have run away if there had been a gun. The driver had the passenger in a choke hold. Fortunately the driver didn’t have much strength, and the thickness of the passenger’s neck was a blessing. The passenger’s color was good, breathing was unimpaired.

I drew a deep breath and stared the two people down with my best “Mommy look.” With all the authority I could muster, I asked, “Can I help you?”

The driver yelled out their interpretation of what was going down. The passenger, still in a choke hold, asked me to call 911. I nodded by way of acknowledging both persons and backed off. I told my husband to call 911. I knew it wasn’t up to me to sort out their conflict – at least as long as nobody was in any immediate danger of losing life and limb.

I had already assessed my options and resources. Nobody got out of their vehicles to help me. Nobody so much as even positioned their cars to trap the assailant’s vehicle. Obviously I couldn’t count on anyone but my husband. Fortunately, the passenger was doing OK for the moment and the situation was not escalating. I distanced myself by going to the far side of my own vehicle and called 911 myself, keeping an eye on the two inside the other vehicle.

If I’d had help or if there had been a knife, I’d have tried de-escalation. If the victim’s breathing had actually been obstructed by the choke hold, I’d have intervened physically, backing off if a hidden gun or knife appeared. But one thing I really didn’t like about that situation was the prospect of a vehicle turning into a weapon. Any physical intervention on my part could have resulted in me being injured or killed by movement of the car. That said, I’d have intervened in a heartbeat if I’d thought the victim was in immediate danger. But as it was both parties calmed down. After a couple of minutes the passenger shut the door. They drove off.

I have no idea how their story ended. Hopefully they got to their home or homes all right. Hopefully they learned that their actions will get attention.

“I didn’t know what to do,” my husband admitted later.

“It’s OK. You did what was needed,” I assured him.

How did I know what my options were? I think I can credit Rory Miller’s book Conflict Communication: A New Paradigm in Conscious Communication. Heck, even my years in a customer-service job have to count for something. I’ve also had, to date, four other close calls in which I successfully avoided fighting. So I’m kinda getting used to that gig. But I give the most credit to – you guessed it – karate training.

Tournaments. Belt tests. Heck, even just an ordinary class when you’re sparring that one karateka who scares the bejeebers out of you (before you learn that he won’t intentionally harm you). The dojo (karate school) is a place where we can explore our capacity to deal with pressure in a mostly safe environment (injuries do occasionally happen). One learns to get control of that adrenaline rush, to instantly assess and decide, and to adapt on the fly. We learn what our limits are and to adjust accordingly.

I can’t fight a car. That’s one of my obvious limits. But is that limit so obvious to me if I’m half-drunk on adrenaline? Is the possibility of getting dragged, run over, crippled, or killed by a car obvious when I’ve got tunnel vision and that pounding in my ears? We’ve all been there, you know the answer is “No.” Many people recognize the onset of an adrenaline rush and they know what to do about it. Soldiers, police, firefighters, medics, and, you guessed it, martial artists all have their methods.

Then there’s the aftermath. This is when one’s body and emotions kinda crash for awhile. Even a minor incident like this… Whew. Yeah. I needed to process it. You guessed it – writing is very much a medium that works for me. The nice thing about writing is maybe someone else will benefit from the lessons I’ve learned and the mistakes I’ve made.

The Professionals – Part Three

Click here for Part One

Click here for Part Two

The local police department’s Citizen’s Academy wrapped up this week. I have already compared and contrasted police work and karate twice (see Part One and Part Two). Of course not everything I learned over the course of ten classes was directly relatable to karate. That’s perfectly OK – I enjoyed learning new things and making connections with people in my community. I had fun listening to people whose perspectives are different from my own. During the penultimate class, we found out that we share a deeply fundamental thing. By and large, we want to preserve our own lives and we are capable of making choices, for good or ill, pretty much instantly in a “him or me” situation.

For the next-to-the-last class, we got to experience a simple firearm simulation program. With the right software I can download, say, a clip from the movie “The Shining,” then, with a fake gun and a special screen, “shoot” Jack before he has a chance to sneer, “Heeeeer’s Johnny!” Or I can “hunt” velociraptors in Jurassic Park’s kitchen. That’s all fun stuff, of course, but think about this. I can also download actual dashboard camera or bodycam footage recorded on the scene of a real situation. I can compare my performance to actual policemen.

I know in one aspect I’d do worse than any given police officer. As of this writing I’m such a poor marksman that I can’t even hit the broad side of a barn. I don’t have the muscle memory to pull the trigger of a pistol properly, much less pull the pistol out of its holster without shooting my own kneecap off. My incompetence could change over time. With a good bit of consistent training and practice, I could be even more of a badass with a firearm than I am with empty hands. Some of my fellow students were good marksmen, firing neat little clusters of shots at the bad guys’ vital organs. But that wasn’t the point of our lesson at all.

Before my fellow students and I got to try out the firearm simulator, we spent about an hour talking about decision making and consequences. This was mostly about the standards that the police are held to and the options they may or may not get to employ before taking a life. Apparently, at least in my state, civilians are not held to the same high standards (see Washington RCW 9A.16.010 for what civilians can do). I need to ask if training in empty hand or firearms makes any difference for civilians. But one thing is for sure – police and civilians alike usually face civil lawsuits for their actions.

For the purpose of the lesson it didn’t matter that one participant clearly would have killed the baddie while another participant shot a wastebasket instead (hey, she did better than me). Three instructors and at least a dozen citizens, all agreed that whoever was “on stage” was justified in their actions. Everyone who tried the simulations made the right decisions – they got the baddies, they didn’t shoot if the baddie surrendered, and they didn’t shoot anyone they shouldn’t have. We all agreed on what the right thing to do was in every single scenario. Every single person who actually fired that fake gun at the screen made their decisions instantly.

So in one sense, I don’t think I have to worry at all about my ability to assess situations and employ my options. It’s good to have that confirmation of seeing my fellow humans make those decisions and to experience those scenarios myself. So far in my adult life, I’ve been able to avoid fighting. But if and when I do have to fight, there will be consequences.

Other authors have far more authority than I to write about PTSD. I don’t mean to downplay it by skimming over it. But PTSD is only part of the aftermath of violence.

In one of the scenarios shown when it was my turn to fire the fake gun, a guy suddenly charged towards the camera, intending to stab with a barbecue fork that he’d previously hidden from view. In that instant I had no idea that it wasn’t a knife. I didn’t know it was a knife until the scene was played again. Everyone in the room agreed that it would be nasty to be stabbed with a barbecue fork. Everyone in the room agreed that I was right to “kill” him even if he wasn’t holding a knife. But one of our instructors pointed out that the fact that I didn’t see that the barbecue fork wasn’t a knife could count against me in court. Also, the media could paint a picture of me killing a guy charging me with “a fork.” I joked, “Naw, they’d say it was a spork.” But that’s not all.

The same instructor pointed out later that it doesn’t matter that the bad guy’s family hasn’t talked to him in ten years – chances are the family will chase the money and file a civil suit. People who are lawfully justified in their actions to protect their lives can still lose civil suits. Yes, those same people could win, but still lose a lot. Who among us can afford a lawyer? Even insurance against such a suit, as some firearm owners have, could be beyond some people’s means. So – I could save my life but I could lose my house years later. Fair trade? If I were single, yes. But I have a family.

This is what our police officers put on the line for us every single day.

So, what does this mean for us martial artists? Be freakin’ careful. Duh. But more than that – learn the deeper lessons of your art. Self control is the biggest lesson. Self control helps keep you from shooting off your mouth or engaging in unnecessary violence. Of course knowing how to handle pressure and stress is a useful skill too. When you’re in as good a head space as you can manage, you’re more aware of your options. I’ll write more about that in my next blog post.

Police departments vary in where they draw the lines between levels of violence, but all departments have formal, written standards (usually accompanied by neat little charts or graphs). Us martial artists don’t have to write stuff up and accompany it with a cute little graph, but we are aware of which techniques do what and often we can vary the degree of damage. Some martial artists study weapons in addition to empty hands and so have more tools at their disposal. But there’s one tool that everyone has as their baseline. You should use it as your first line of defense IF you can.

Your voice. Every single self defense class I’ve taken or helped teach has stressed the importance of one’s voice. Yes, shouting to draw attention. But there’s more – provided you have the luxury of time and if you are dealing with someone who is rational enough to listen. I recommend Rory Miller’s book _Conflict Communication: A New Paradigm in Conscious Communication_. After class, us participants were invited to take a book home. Our host instructor had too many books, evidently. I gleefully chose _Verbal Judo: The Art of Gentle Persuasion_ by George J. Thompson. Maybe some day I’ll let you know how I like it. Yes, I had a literal takeaway, but I also had a very affirming heart takeaway.

I have faith in my own ability to make life or death decisions and to quickly employ whatever tools are appropriate. I had no problem reading the intent of the baddies and making the instant decision to preserve my life. I can trust my karate training. And as far as PTSD and civil lawsuits go – I’ll cross those bridges if I come to them. Forewarned is forearmed.

Capoeira Again

Long time readers of this blog know I love cross-training. Some of you might recall that last year I attended the one-off Capoeira workshop offered as part of my employer’s annual Professional Development Day. That workshop was so much fun I signed up again this year. What the heck is Capoeira? Here’s a very nice 5-minute video (start near the 1 minute 45 second mark). Obviously a one hour introduction to any martial art is only going to cover just so much ground. And if this year’s workshop was pretty much the same as last year’s workshop, what the heck did I learn?

I learned plenty.

There was one movement I learned which wasn’t covered in last year’s workshop. Someone I know who studied one of the Filipino Martial Arts described training with drums. The idea is to catch your opponent on the off-beats. I’d been wondering if Capoeira players do that. Yes, they do. We were taught one movement that is meant to throw the other player a bit off. I’d like to work out how to translate that movement into my jiyu kumite (karate free sparring).

One new movement… First-time reader, I hear you asking, “So why did Joelle say she learned plenty?” Long term readers know I learn way more than what’s on the surface.

As I said, this year’s workshop wasn’t much different in content and format than last year’s. Even my Hapkido buddy was in attendance again. But here’s the thing – I’m a different karateka than I was a year ago. And as a second-time attendee, I came with a different perspective. I paid attention to things I hadn’t noticed last year. I kept tabs on my internal world too. With any martial art, one learns about oneself through being pushed outside one’s comfort zone.

Ahhh yes, the comfort zone. Autopilot. Muscle memory. Folks, muscle memory can be downright annoying sometimes. I’d memorized Kanku Dai kata (one of our forms) last year, but obviously the lessons from that kata have sunk in deeper this year. I kept wanting to drop to the ground exactly like in that kata rather than execute a proper esquiva. Also, I’ve been practicing a drill in which I execute an inside crescent kick then place the foot down in such a way that the leg I’ve been kicking with becomes the back leg – i.e. that leg is behind me. What I needed to do for the Capoeira workshop is set the foot down to the side so as to transition into something else.

“You can put your leg behind,” the instructor admitted, “But…”

He trailed off, so I finished with a grin, “For the purpose of this drill, I need to step to the side.”

Sticking to the drill is even more important when one is working with a partner. My partner was a newbie to boot. Yeah, I know, pot calling the kettle black. Last year I was actually nervous about working with anyone other than a fellow martial artist (my Hapkido buddy) and the instructor. I’m totally fine with people who are new to the art of karate, have been for quite some time. But last year the idea of working with a newbie in Capoeira when I myself was unfamiliar with the material was a bit too much. This year I was a lot more confident about adjusting what I was doing to accommodate someone who hasn’t had any martial arts training whatsoever. I’ve not practiced any of the Capoeira movements I learned last year, so my ability to adjust obviously doesn’t come from long practice in Capoeira. Perhaps all those self defense workshops and other cross-training experiences have helped me become more confident about working on unfamiliar techniques with people who are entirely new to all martial arts in general.

What about confidence in working directly with an instructor who is from a completely different art? Last year I had a little anxiety about that. This year, no problem. I knew I could be myself – strengths, weaknesses, everything.

I even did something I didn’t do last year – I showed the instructor a little karate before class. I took the broom from him and swept the floor. I explained to him that this is the job of the lowest-ranked student. Which I was – I hold no rank in any system of Capoeira. Although one could use a broom as a makeshift weapon, there are no hidden techniques in sweeping the floor. This wasn’t the 1980’s movie “The Karate Kid,” this was me showing respect for the place where I train and for my instructor. That’s karate.

Perhaps some of you dear readers are wondering if I showed some “real” karate – in other words, did I bust out some cool karate stuff while I was in the roda? Why yes, I did. I started by respectfully entering the roda and following the instructor’s lead for the etiquette involved. Yes, that level of respect is “real” karate. Respect is the gateway to learning.

Instead of bowing to the instructor, I squatted down facing him, held my crossed arms out to his, and locked eyes with him for a moment. That moment told each of us what we needed to know about the other. We saw confidence, trust, respect, and curiosity. Last year I was a little too nervous to truly appreciate that formality. Right then it hit me that I’m a different karateka than the one who entered a roda for the first time last year. Last year I was just trying to function with the limited tools I had. This year’s play was different.

Of course I stumbled all over myself frequently. I’m a newbie, after all, and to top it all off I hadn’t been to a Capoeira class in a year. So what was different? This year I was even more keenly aware of the ways in which the instructor and I were keeping one another safe. I saw exactly how he was adjusting for me. I adjusted too, once. I tried something and ended up way too close to the instructor. I backed off because I didn’t know how a Capoeirista would interpret my intent if I did what I’d do on the tatami (karate mats). I wanted to keep the play light and fun.

A couple of times, my muscle memory took over at least twice. Instead of executing a proper Capoeira esquiva, I dropped as per Kanku Dai kata. Actually, that muscle memory did come in handy once. I misread the instructor’s intent and ended up dropping instinctively at the last instant to avoid his kick. It wasn’t pretty like in the kata, but I did it without even thinking. Yep, I’m coming along in Karate, but I’m a total rube when it comes to Capoeira. And that’s OK.

The point of me entering the roda was not to show off or to prove Karate superior (it isn’t – apples and oranges, folks). The point was to learn about myself, about the man in the roda with me, and about the art of Capoeira. While playing, I made different mistakes this year than last – and that is to be expected. I’ve barely learned a little bit of “baby talk.”

There is an element of “conversation” in Capoeira games, in karate jiyu kumite, and in point sparring (except a referee keeps interrupting the conversation during point sparring). I wrote about this underlying conversation in last year’s blog post. One year, one belt rank, and one gold medal in kumite later, I still need to improve my karate “conversational skills.” I strongly suspect I always will.

It might seem like going to essentially the same workshop as last year would be pointless. But the very nature of any martial art is you can always go deeper into the material. There’s always some new insight and/or refinement to discover. I’m seeing this more and more as I progress in my Karate. What I love about cross-training is I can compare and contrast, and in the process learn more about my base art. I wish I could do more cross training… Sigh… So many martial arts and so little time.