CLONK!

“I am SO sorry!  Oh my gosh, are you all right?”

“Think so…”

“Hey, look at me – OK, your pupils are good.  I’ll get you an ice pack.”

Us martial artists have very interesting relationships with one another.  What other group of people will beat up their friends?  I remember once when helping to plan the Christmas party my attention wandered and I looked at each person in turn, thinking, “He’s thrashed me soundly, he’s beaten me up, so has he…”  I guess that’s what I get for visiting sister dojos so much.  And here we were working ever so nicely together to plan a wonderful social event.  We were talking about table decorations and stringing pretty colored lights!  I found this contrast to normal Karate conversation was hilarious, and fought down the giggles.

Sometimes these unusual relationships can bring to light some things we’d rather not see about ourselves, and we find out we can overcome those things.   I’ve recently written about a time when I sparred with someone who outranks me and discovered I had a “trigger” for anger.    Since then I’ve chatted a bit with him, I’ve watched him spar other karateka, and, most importantly, I sparred with him again and had fun.  I’m very pleased to be acquainted with him.

Sometimes a sparring match is a great icebreaker for us martial artists.  Once while visiting a sister dojo I chose to spar against a young man who didn’t even have a gi.  I knew he’d been training for a few weeks, so I started gently and ramped things up from there.  I couldn’t figure him out – one moment he’d be confident and giving me a run for my money, next moment he’d be uncertain and crumbling.  It didn’t take long for me to discover he liked throwing and dealing with kicks and didn’t do well with multiple punches.  I decided he needed more practice with punches.  I launched one of my favorite punch combinations and… he scooted backward and scored a kick that knocked the wind out of me.  So after class as I was walking up to him, I realized dude’s wearing a Tae Kwon Do T-shirt.  Oh…  That explained a lot!  We had a wonderful time chatting, we were joined by a saber fighter, and the three of us had a great geek fest.  I don’t know if we’d have spoken to each other had he not nailed me!  Which leads to what I’ve heard from numerous karateka of all ranks…

I have a sneaking suspicion that over half of all karateka feel like they’re awkward socially.  This based on numerous confessions from all ranks.  And yeah, me too.  Karate gives us a clear, easy to understand social system to hang out with for awhile. We don’t have to engage in mindless, awkward chitchat – in fact, most of the time chatter will earn us pushups.  There are times when we don’t have to interact with anyone at all – we can just be breath, muscle, spirit, movement…  As an introvert, I find all this to be refreshing.

Be that as it may, we don’t have to stay inside our little shells.  We do have something in common.  One can build from there when we throw ourselves together for social functions.  I’ve found questions like, “What do you know now that you wish you’d known when you were a beginner?” or “How did you get started with Karate?” are great ice breakers when I find myself sitting next to a black belt at a gathering.  Before I know it, the intimidation factor of sitting next to a (gasp) Sensei is gone.  Mind you I’m still respectful because I know I could get assigned pushups 😉

We see each other at our best and at our worst.  At the Christmas party I get to see my fellow karateka freshly showered and in nice clothes.  The complete opposite is how we all look at the end of Gasshuku, when we’re all stinky and gummy with a weekend’s worth of sweat, dust, and sunscreen and our gis are stained with grass, earth, and maybe a little blood.  We’ve seen great tournament performances and utter confusion over a drill.  We’ve seen laughter and we’ve seen tears of frustration and/or pain.  In short, we see that we’re human beings.

There’s another aspect to learning from falling that didn’t occur to me until a week or so after I’d written Lessons from Falling.  Recently I spent some time being thrown to the mats during Gasshuku, and after some reflection and a couple of ibuprofen, I came up with another lesson learned from falling.  Namely, other people can benefit from our experiences with falling.

I’ve had a few lessons in grappling and, in recent months, senior students have been dumping me to the floor by catching my kicks if I’m too slow with them during sparring.  I’ve had a good many opportunities to practice falling.  From one perspective, this is a bad thing – we’re supposed to stay on our feet during sparring, and I most definitely have my work cut out for me in order to avoid going splat.  But on the other hand, all that time I’ve spent between sky and Earth directly benefited two other karateka.

One was a beginner who’d had very little experience with grappling.  After receiving my partner’s assent that she knew how to fall, I did the exercise a couple of times then turned it over to her.  I knew she needed more help than I did, and there were plenty of black belts circulating.  I “dig in” when I’m the uke, resisting until I feel my center of gravity shift – i.e. when my partner has proper leverage.  Sure enough, my partner’s unsuccessful attempts attracted a Sensei’s attention and she got the help she needed.  In the limited time we had to do the exercise, she learned the technique thoroughly.  It meant I took way more than my fair share of falls, but I didn’t mind at all.  It was worth it to see that young lady grow!

How often in life have I taken more than my “fair” share of falls for the benefit of others and maybe even at my own expense?  More times than I can count because I am a mother.   A toddler can’t possibly comprehend the issues involved in breaking an expensive vase, but a mother can take that fall by paying for the vase and apologizing.  I’ve taken painful physical falls so that my children wouldn’t be injured.  You don’t have to be a parent to take a fall for the benefit of others.  If you’ve ever stuck out your neck for your co-workers, friends, or family members you know what this is all about.

The second karateka who benefited from all the times I’ve been dumped on the floor was afraid of hurting people.  I looked her in the eye and said seriously, “I bounce.  You won’t hurt me.”  I assured her I’m quite comfortable with being thrown and falling.  Timorously, she tried the maneuver.  I dug in and…  She couldn’t throw me.  Sure enough, this situation was a “Sensei magnet,” especially as my partner outranked me.

My partner expressed concern about hurting me.  I protested, “You won’t!”  Next thing I knew, the black belt was demonstrating the maneuver on me.  I was on the mats in the twinkling of an eye.  The throw must have looked more brutal than it felt because my partner was a bit wide-eyed after I scrambled back up to my feet.  The black belt asked (for my partner’s benefit) if I was hurt and I asserted that I was just fine.  The black belt walked my partner through the maneuver.

I dug in, my partner got the proper leverage, and I went down.  I got back up and reset my stance.  My partner subsequently came at me with confidence each time and threw me again and again.   Maybe some day she’ll remember this lesson and not hesitate to demonstrate take-downs to a dojo full of her own students.

Let’s say your friend asks you for advice about something that is not easily dealt with – something that might end up with a third party getting hurt feelings.  Let’s say you empathize with the third party because you’ve “been there” – you’ve been on the receiving end of the pink slip, the “let’s be friends” speech, or whatever your friend needs to say to that third party.  You’re in a position to teach your friend that yes, people survive these “falls,” and to give her the confidence and tools to say what needs to be said.

No one likes falling.  I admit I’d far rather throw someone to the mats than to be thrown.  On the other hand, there’s a lot to be said for what one learns from falling.  As I’ve written in a prior blog post, I learn not to undermine myself and to avoid reactions that make the fall worse.  I learn the importance of being a good example.  Most importantly, I can take what I have learned about falling and help other people.  I hope I’ve helped you, dear reader.

GRAB!  FLIP!  DUMP!

I’d thrown a rather slow kick – a bad habit of mine, and my sparring partner thought it was high time I learned the consequences of not fixing this.  I scrabbled to my feet and faced him once again.  Hot fury shot through me.  I shut it down instantly, recognizing that I was merely angry at myself.  I’m learning that if my internal state is not what it ought to be, I go into a tailspin.  This is not what I want to have happen during a sparring match!  A little while later, yup, I threw another slow kick and my sparring partner dumped me on the floor again.  I got back up calm, cool, and collected – my defeat was really a triumph.

I think I’m beginning to understand that on a really deep level, I’m fighting against myself.  Really and truly there are so many things I do to undermine myself while I’m sparring.  I have only a few tools in my toolbox, but they are good tools, and if I stop shooting myself in the foot, I can improve on how I use those tools.

What do I do to undermine myself in real life? How many times have I figuratively fallen to the floor – dumped there by life circumstances?  I have no desire to try and count.  What’s important is, how have I reacted?  Have I sulked, whined, screamed, pointed fingers,  etc. when I found myself “falling?”  Yes, I admit I have.

Ando Mierzwa (senseiando.com) in one of his articles advises, “Here’s the trick to falling safely—accept that you’re falling! Don’t hop around on one foot, clawing desperately at anything (or anyone!) that might keep you on your feet.” Accept that you’re falling.  Denial, throwing blame around willy-nilly, and clutching at bad habits (like eating to comfort myself) are all ways I try to shield myself from adversity.  These reactions just make the “fall” worse.  I’m not saying don’t cry, don’t grieve, and don’t hold other people accountable for their actions.  I’m saying acknowledge the circumstances for what they are.  Then move beyond.

I’ve certainly given myself ample opportunity to practice falling in the dojo what with all those slow kicks I’ve thrown.  Wait – did you catch that?  It was something I did that started the chain of events that ended with me on the floor.  So maybe in my life circumstances, I should see if there’s something I did that led to the “fall.”  Sometimes I might find there isn’t anything I could have done differently, and sometimes I might find I could’ve done better.

After the adrenaline and endorphins and all those other fun hormones wore off, I discovered sore spots from those two falls.  Yes, falling hurts, and the hurts can last a good long time.  I tended those physical bruises for a few days until they healed.  Emotional “bruises” from being “dumped to the floor” by life circumstances hurt too.   It’s part of being human, and part of learning.  The trick is to become better, not bitter.

Assuming I am physically able to do so, it’s very empowering to get back on my feet and into fighting stance again.  Don’t get me wrong – if Sensei calls a halt at that point I do indeed breathe a sigh of relief!  Overcoming adverse life circumstances is immensely empowering too.   It might take  quite a lot of time to overcome adversity, or perhaps the struggle will end only when Death calls out, “Yame! (Stop!)”  But how one reacts and what one learns is crucial to developing the very core of one’s own self.

When one gets back up again, hopefully others will learn that there is hope for them too.  You can serve as a good example to others, or you can serve as an example of what not to do.  Very nearly every single time I was knocked or dumped or swept to the floor while sparring someone, there were children watching.  Their need to see someone bounce or stagger back up and into fighting stance outweighed my desire to curl up into a sobbing, frightened little ball.

I’ll let the following short video wrap up this post (thank you Bamboo Spirit Martial Arts Center for sharing this with me)…

Dear readers, soon after this publishes I will be on my way to Gasshuku, so I won’t be able to get to your comments until sometime during the week.  Thank you for reading, and thanks for your patience!

Hello, dear readers!

I wear a lot of hats in this ol’ world.  I’m the mother of two teens and the Alpha to my little furry doggy friend.  I’m a wife who appreciates her husband holding down the fort while I go have fun Karate adventures.  I’m a YMCA employee, albeit I’m only “on call” as a substitute Water Fitness instructor.  And of course, I’m a karateka – along with that I’ve taken on some extra responsibilities by serving as a dojo representative on the Board of Directors (fundraising and special events) and also with being a “dojo mom,” helping out as needed.  I’m a bit pressed for time.

Based on the new katas I’m going to need for the next belt test, I have determined I’m now at the equivalent level of where I was when I left Karate all those years ago when I was a teenager (the styles are very similar).  I know now that the biggest contributing factor to my leaving Karate years ago was a medical condition I didn’t even know I had until roughly eighteen years later.  Circumstances are in my favor this time around.  I’ve been just fine this past year.

I’m ready to pick up where I left off and go beyond.  That’s going to involve a lot of discipline, some more time, and of course some sweat.

My “home” dojo meets only twice a week, one hour per class.  I’ve been doing pretty well finding opportunities to attend classes at sister dojos.  That will still happen from time to time.  But it’s not enough.  I would like to be even more athletic so my body will meet the challenges and expectations that come with my brand new rank.  To that end, I’ve added fitness classes and more Karate practice time.

One of the changes I’m making is to spend half as much time on this blog.  I’m thinking one post every two weeks would be about the right pace for me.   It’s not that Karate isn’t inspiring to me anymore, it’s just I need to carve out a little more time to actually do Karate 🙂

I very much appreciate you, my readers, for all the encouragement and feedback you’ve given me.  Thank you for understanding what I need to do now.

 

Today’s post is a little different – it’s a diary.  I want to remember what it was like for me to be a beginner facing promotion (7th kyu).  I don’t want to forget what a beginner might feel and think and need.  Of course everyone is different, but if years from now I can have some measure of empathy for my future students because I recorded my journey, then writing about this will be time well spent.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

When I trained in Karate as a teenager, I went though three promotions in roughly as many years, and two tournaments. Since resuming Karate twelve months and 25 days ago, I’ve been to four tournaments and tested three times. I’m facing a fourth belt test in two days. Near as I can figure this will put me at a skill level only slightly below where I once was long ago. I’ll know for sure when I find out what new kata I’ll be learning.  So why the heck am I nervous?

To stave off the worst of the anxiety, I keep remembering votes of confidence from those who outrank me. I’ve been practicing like a fiend, keeping in mind all the tips from Senseis and Sempais that I’ve received in the last few days. I have to remind myself that some things will be fixed by Tuesday, some won’t. I even prepared for this test by performing my katas in tournaments! I’ve long since lost track of how many karateka who outrank me have whipped my tail in sparring since my last belt test – this is fantastic preparation for sparring in promotion. I don’t have to be perfect. I just have to be who and what I am. I wouldn’t be tapped for this promotion if I weren’t ready for it.

Still.

There’s a difference between taking the belt test seriously and anxiety. Taking the belt test seriously means I’m not cocky or disrespectful. This is what is expected of me. Anxiety is all about me undermining myself. Exactly what I don’t need. What it boils down to is trust. I have to trust my training, my teachers, my tutors. I have to trust every vote of confidence I’ve been given. Above all, I must trust myself.

Monday, 6/29/15

Maybe things will slow down a bit for me after this test. I’m looking forward to that because I feel like I have so much to work on, so much to tidy up! It takes time to do that.

The color of the new belt will be the same as when I left off, so this promotion has a bit of significance for me. Too bad the old purple belt somehow, um… er… shrunk while it was in storage. LOL!

I grabbed an empty studio at the Y this afternoon, the one in which our dojo meets. I practiced for nearly an hour. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for tomorrow. That’s taken the edge off some of the anxiety. I miss my daughter terribly – she’s staying with my parents to regain her health. She could’ve helped me by doing some sparring drills with me.

I wonder what tomorrow’s fight will be like?

I wonder when the studio will be empty again tomorrow? Maybe I should just go for a nice relaxing swim tomorrow morning instead. Or maybe I could combine swimming and practicing Karate.

Naaaahhhhh….

Tuesday Morning, 6/30/15

Today’s the day!!!  The dog woke me up around daybreak (5:00 AM) and we went for an easy 3 mile walk because it was threatening rain. We got back in plenty of time for me to grab a quick bite to eat and then I took my younger daughter swimming (read: she played, I lazed around) at the Y. There were only a few quiet people at the pool at that early hour. I feel nice and mellow. I hope this feeling lasts through this evening’s test.

Wednesday 7/1/15

I felt really, really, ready for the first three belts. This time around I had to just throw up my hands and say to myself the Senseis know the expectations and I have no clue, so I’ll go ahead and trust them that I’m ready.

I got the belt, so obviously I was ready.

How was my performance?  Well, I didn’t break my foot during this purple belt test like I did when I was a teenager, so I think that alone is pretty freakin’ awesome 🙂

Seriously, though – I’m a flippin’ perfectionist, so I had to remind myself that nobody there expected perfection. Kata – I screwed up ever so slightly on one because I am so used to doing that kata solo without a count – I went right into the second movement from the first. I didn’t let it affect the rest of the execution of the kata. I can’t wait for Bassai Dai kata and beyond, when nobody will be counting… Kumite – well…  um…  Not too shabby, but immediately after the fight and in front of everyone, I was reminded I’d been told last tournament to be patient 😉 This admonishment was delivered gently – so I didn’t feel embarrassed, just duly cautioned about my tendency toward aggression.   I know I can learn to overcome this.  Friday night at a sister dojo I was sparring with someone who outranks me and it turned out to be a very “psychological” fight (faking, deception, luring, etc.) on both sides. I guess I shouldn’t let the time limits and interruptions of the ring pressure me into sacrificing strategy.

 

The senior student at my dojo is a good tutor and clearly enjoys teaching. He’s spent loads of time with me before and after class, and was there for me yesterday evening. He coached me before the test, which was very sweet of him. Sempai had to leave at 7:00, shortly after my fight. As he passed by me, he winked at me to show me he was confident I’d passed. This was a great last-minute vote of confidence 🙂

The moment came. My name was called, and I waited for a breathless instant to find out if I’d get a new belt or if I’d need to try again at a future date.  “PASS!” I jogged to the front of the dojo to get my belt and certificate. This time, one of my Senseis gave me the certificate, and my other Sensei gave me my belt. The Sensei who presented me with my new belt is moving away soon, so I was really, really glad he’d been chosen to do this. It’s the first of many special memories I will build while wearing the new belt.

I was a little nostalgic when I took off my old belt. I got that belt at Gasshuku last year from the hands of a Sensei who’d been ever so patient with me as I fumbled my way through the kata that was being taught to the group as a whole. I’d spent the entire weekend doing Karate in the fresh air and sunshine, barefoot on cool green grass.  A bald eagle piped when I entered the ring to spar for that belt test. The stripe on the belt was earned at the Hombu Dojo right before I watched the Shodan (brown belt to black belt) testing – which was a fantastic adventure. I’ve learned so many lessons about Karate and myself while wearing that belt. I felt a little sad folding it and putting it aside.  But you know what? The new belt feels right.

I guess it’s time now for the harder work and the higher expectations.

Bring it.