This journal entry was definitely about my learning process, but it didn’t fit neatly into kata or kumite subcategories. So this gets a post all of its own!
Feb 21, 2016 – Home Dojo Advanced Class: First Day
Oh my gosh… What a treat today was!
Class consisted of me, my “big brother,” Sensei, and Sensei’s wife (if she’s going to be a regular part of our dojo I need something better to call her). Wow. Talk about personalized instruction and individual attention!
We started off with some light warmups, then… Just jabbing while standing in shoulder stance. Yep – jabbing. With me, that meant I got to work on having loose shoulders and getting some hip action going. After I got in a good many repetitions of that, Sensei broke out a focus mitt.
“Hit this the way you were hitting.”
thock.
“Now hit it the way you’re supposed to hit.”
WHAP!!!
I got a good many repetitions of that in. Sensei upped the ante.
“Close your eyes. You know where it is. Hit it!”
WHAP!!! WHAP!!! WHAP!!! WHAP!!! A good many repetitions of that!
I was left to my own devices to drill some more while Sensei worked with my big brother. I centered myself at the dividing line between two mirrors and carried on jabbing while waiting for the next activity.
When we were done jabbing, Sensei asked, “What do you want to work on?”
Big brother hesitated, so I spoke up. I’ve known for a few days now everything I want to work on and which one is my highest priority. Sensei got me started with his wife, and the two of us worked together while Sensei worked with my big brother.
I have trouble with tournament fighting. I’m used to free sparring, which is a whole different animal. So a few days ago I narrowed it down to one specific thing that could be an exercise in and of itself. What to do when directed to start fighting.
Something interesting that I’m going to have to get used to with this training is I should expect the unexpected. I’m used to the rules of the normal classroom. At one point when Sensei got me started on what I wanted to work on, I misunderstood something and came out the worse for it at the hands of his wife. So I was told to defend myself even if I think I’m not following instructions 😉 A couple of minutes after that, Sensei deliberately set me up. He gave me some instruction or other, we did what we were supposed to, but then I found myself in a full-out sparring match with Sensei! YIKE! OK, message received 🙂
Sensei’s wife was wonderful to work with. She scaled things back and broke things down as needed. Her explanations and feedback were clear and direct.
The hour was up all too quickly. I almost wanted to cry like a small child because playtime was over.
MAN that was fun!
So I have a feeling there was more to the “close your eyes” exercise than Sensei’s explanation of not focusing on the mitt being there but instead focusing on targeting beyond the mitt. That’s the surface of the exercise, and a very valuable lesson it is – I’m not discounting that. But looking deeper…
How much do I trust Sensei that this exercise will work? If I didn’t even try, if I argued or whined, I wouldn’t be a good student. So I have to trust that I’ll learn from the exercise even if (actually, especially if) I fail and punch Sensei’s nose instead – which wouldn’t happen ’cause he’d move out of the way. More than that, Sensei’s assertion of, “You know where it is,” means he’s telling me to trust myself.
In the dojo, there’s no hiding what I am and what I am not – especially when I’m in a tiny class. Every technique that I struggle with, every hint of exhaustion or bad attitude, every imperfection is impossible to hide. I can’t pretend to have abilities I don’t have. I cannot pretend to be perfect. There’s a vulnerability there – the real me is out in the open. But at the same time, it’s liberating because if I acknowledge the areas that need work, that is the beginning of my growth in skill and knowledge.
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