Tag Archives: martial arts

goodness, life, martial arts, nerd

I go by many names…

Senior Ecuador and I hung out for three days straight over the winter break (Dec 30-Jan 1), first crashing at my place, then at his for New Year’s, during which we killed a delicious bottle of ruby port and watched Mechagodzilla. The next day, after grabbing breakfast at Literati, he worked on a gift for his brother (woodburning Zelda logo onto a box lid). That night we watched Escape from Los Angeles (no words). I’ve taken to calling him Roomie, and he, for his part, has given me a fine assortment of titles which the other members of the dojo have embraced with an endearing amount of enthusiasm: The Wolf Tamer (for my recent excursion to see a particularly vocal coyote outside my house: I threw on some jeans, sneakers, and brought a maglight and my bokuto. I got as close as I could to the sounds this amazing animal was making before every instinct in my body forced me to stop my approach), The Devourer (I was jealous of Senior Ecuador’s hashbrowns), and The Taker of Things (pretty sure this is also hashbrown-related, but I continue to live up to it).

san

I can’t understate how much I love these titles, and I wondered what someone who friended me on Facebook today would think of me. I skimmed through my photos and have decided that my life up to this point has been fantastic, and full of other, excellent titles:

Sensei– Teaching martial arts to kids means I had fun every day, learned how to handle kids (which was a skill I did NOT have before that job), and became an occasionally great teacher.

Beekeeper– I found a new common interest with my dad, got to wear an awesome cosmonaut outfit, and learned a shitload about bees (which are amazing, btw).

Grad student– How long have I been fantasizing about calling myself a grad student? Basically forever.

Thanksgiving attendee– Every year, the shot of my large, loud Italian family on the porch of the beach house. So much love.

Halloween enthusiast– The pumpkin carvings and dressing up, especially at work (especially at my office job where NO ONE else EVER shows up in costume, lol), plus all the pumpkin-related food-stuffs. It always makes me so happy.

Renaissance Faire attendee– And this year I might actually work the faire.  I could counted among the faire folk.  God.  Little dreams coming true, one at a time.

World traveler– Hawai’i to present my own work at a conference, Scotland and Ireland to celebrate getting into grad school, and much more to come (soon!). I’ve been saving up those vacation days, and grad school will be done in 5 weeks…

Friend/daughter/sister– My favorite photos are the unflattering ones, caught mid-laugh with giant grins plastered across everyone’s faces, particularly with Little Iron Friend, Diminutive Friend, and Dad.

So far, so good.

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humor, martial arts, work

All kids are drunk almost always

A new iteration of Facebook profile formatting reminded me today that I used to write “Notes” about little events in my life, and that I started this blog because I hated Facebook’s “Notes.”
Here’s one I started in January of 2010, and shared with all my coworkers at Karate Job.  Boyfriend recently noted that kids are basically tiny adults with a drinking problem.  Seriously.  The next time you see a kid walking around, playing with other kids, or just sitting staring at her hand, you’ll see the truth: All kids perfectly, unintentionally, and constantly mimic drunk adults.  See below for (way too much) proof.

In my time at Karate Job, many things have changed, but the one thing that has remained constant is the ridiculousness of the kids, and the weird nonsense that comes out of their mouths. I plan on adding to this as the hilarity ensues.
Sensei = me
kid = unnamed student

i made this

i made this

Sensei- Ooh, the Trust stone! Who can tell me what trust is?
kid- (raises hand)
Sensei- Yes? What do you think?
kid- Um… one time, I was with my brother, and he said that, um, there was no rock monster, and, um, but then, there was a rock monster, and my brother, it was him, and the rock monster, um,… it was.
Sensei-…Ok, good job, who else knows what trust is?

Sensei Richard was doing cow stretch, then cat stretch, mooing and meowing, chewing slowly and smiling when one kid looked at him and said, with a completely serious face, “Stop chewing like a cow.”

Sensei- What did you do this weekend?
kid- I went to a party, and you know who was there?!
Sensei- Who?
kid- Bob!!
Sensei- Wow, cool.
kid- Yeah!!
Sensei- Did you guys have fun?
kid- Yeah!! And then, you know what I did?
Sensei- What?
kid- I put my hand, in his mouth!!
Sensei- …What?
kid- Yeah!!
Sensei- …Is Bob a dog?
kid- No! He’s jello!
Sensei- …Jello?
kid- No! He’s MADE of jello!
Sensei- … Ok, time for an obstacle course.

kid- Vrooooooooommmmm!!!
Sensei- Wow, are you a car?
kid- I’m a Ferrari!

kid- The cheetahs are sleeping!
(whispered as he sat in a circle for Animal Cards)

Sensei- Ooooh, the ant card, ants have good patience, and good teamwork. What do you think about the ant?
kid- Um… if… if there’s a… a giant spider… theeeeeeeen… um… it would stomp on us.
Sensei- Uh, yeah, but spiders aren’t that big, so I think we’re ok.
kid- Oh. Ok.

(All the kids are running around the lava pit)
Sensei- Ok, now do a bear crawl! Who can growl like a bear?
(All the kids growl)
Sensei- Now who can hop like a frog?
(All of them hop around)
Sensei- Now who can hop like a bunny?
(Immediately, half the kids put their hands up to their heads and make bunny ears with their first two fingers, as if that is the only thing that distinguishes frogs and rabbits)

DRUNK

DRUNK

Sensei- Hi everyone! Ok, let’s bow and say ‘osu’ as you come in. Hi, how are you?
kid- I’m good! Osu!
Sensei- Awesome! Let’s have your card, and start running! Hi, how are you doing?
kid- Awesome, Sensei! Osu!
Sensei- Woah, cool! Start running! Hi, how are you?
kid- I have pink eye! Osu! [holds out card]
Sensei- …Um… What?
kid- I have pink eye! They put drops in my eyes! Osu! [holds out card]
Sensei- …Ok, cool… Where are your parents?
[turns out he HAD pinkeye, but was cured of it recently]

Sensei- Ok everyone, feet together, make a butterfly, flap your wings!
kid- Hey Sensei!
Sensei- What do we do when we want to talk?
kid- [hand shoots up] Um, Sensei! Sensei!
Sensei- Yes? Thank you for raising your hand.
kid- We were reading a book about bugs outside, and one of the bugs, they-
Sensei- Can you tell me about it after class?
kid- Ya but this one bug, it-
Sensei- Can you tell me about it after class?
kid- Ok, but this one bug-
Sensei- Tell me about it after class, ok? It’s karate time now.
kid- Ok, but this one bug-
Sensei- Tell me about it after class. We’re not talking about that right now, ok?
kid- Ok, but the bug-
Sensei- [name], can you listen to me please? What did I just say?
kid- Ok, but the bug-
Sensei- What did I just say?
kid- After class, ya, but this one bug-
Sensei- No, what did I just say? Did I say we should talk about that now?
kid- No, but-
Sensei- Tell me after class, not now.
kid- Ok, but it’s just this one bug-
Sensei- [name], come here please.
kid- [pause] What?
Sensei- I asked you to come here please.
kid- Oh. I couldn’t hear you all the way over here.
Sensei- Yes you can.

Sensei- Ooh, look, the “otter” card! This is sensei’s favorite card!
kid- Yeah?
Sensei- Yeah, because the otter is very playful.
kid- Yeah. Y’know what? He likes to play games.
Sensei- Yeah, he does.
kid- But he doesn’t always know when it’s his turn.
Sensei- …What?
kid- Because, because it’s, um it’s my turn, his turn, my turn, [faster] his turn my-turn-his-turn-myturn-histurn-myturn-histurn… and then… histurn histurn histurn histurn.
Sensei- …Ok, time to meditate.

kid 1- My sister, she’s 16, she karate’s me all the time. And I karate her back.
kid 2- (under his breath to some other kids) He doesn’t understand martial arts.

Sensei- Ooh, the antelope card!
kid- I like deer.
Sensei- Yeah, me too. I saw a deer once when I was camping.
kid- I saw a bear once!
Sensei- Really?
kid- Yeah, I was, um, in the forest… um… and my parents wanted to be there with me, but I’m really careful.
Sensei- Uh huh…
kid- And um, then, I saw a bear, and I ran as fast as I could, but he couldn’t catch me.
Sensei- Yeah? So you were in the forest… alone?
kid- Yeah, I’m really careful around bears.

[I use those foam noodles to make a bridge for the kids to duck under and run around the dojo, then I put them on the floor for them to jump over. I usually wiggle them around and say , “Who can jump over the ssssssssssnake?”]
A new kid in the class comes to a screeching halt when it’s his turn to jump over the snake.
Sensei- Hey there, jump over! Jump over the snake, you can do it!
kid- [pause] Um… is it a nice snake?
Sensei- Uh, yep, it sure is. His name is Howard. Can you say hi to Howard?
kid- [waves at the noodle] Hi, Howard.
Sensei- Great job, now jump over Howard!
[kid jumps over the noodle no problem]

time to fucking meditate

time to fucking meditate

Sensei- Keep running guys!
kid- [panting] It’s so refreshing to get a good workout!

kid- [running around the dojo to warm up] Sensei! [raises hand]
Sensei- Yes?
kid- [comes to a complete stop right in front of me] I lost my racetrack,… but I can find it later.
Sensei- …Ok, good. Keep running.
kid- Ok!

Yesterday we were talking about outer space, and I mentioned black holes. None of the kids knew what a black hole was. I described it as “something that’s super tiny that can eat anything and everything up.” Then I told them that after something is eaten up, we lose track of it. No one on Earth has any idea where it goes. The kids could not believe what I had just said. A couple of them literally thought I was lying. I said, “Really! It’s a huge mystery. Even the smartest people in the world don’t know where it goes after it gets eaten up by a black hole.” Then I did what my dad used to do: I made them try to think up an answer all by themselves. I asked, “Where do you guys think it goes?” They were all quiet for a few seconds, until one boy said, ” Maybe it goes into the future.”
Wow. Just… wow. I couldn’t believe he said that. How awesome is that kid’s brain that the future is the first thing he things of. Not a place, a TIME. HAHAHAHA!! Amazing!

Sensei- Alright, everone reach for your toes!
kid- Sensei? It smells like bacon in here.
Sensei- Uh, that’s ok… Who knows where bacon comes from?
[silence]
Sensei- C’mon guys, who knows what animal bacon comes from?
kid- Bacon monster?
Sensei- Haha, no you silly boy! What animal does bacon come from?
kid 2- A crocodile made out of bacon?

My first day working at a different KK location, we were stretching and a new boy was lookin’ pretty worried.
Sensei- Hey buddy, everything ok?
kid- Um… I think I have to go to the bathroom…
Sensei- Ah, ok quick, let’s go!
The kid takes two steps, then stops and clamps his legs shut. His crotch is already visibly wet. He looks down, then back up to me with an extremely worried expression on his face and says, “I think I’m LEAKING!”
I picked him up by the armpits, took him to the door to use the bathroom. Not a drop on the mat! lol

(a kid – let’s call him Jack – kept looking over his shoulder to see his dad, who was quietly reading outside. Dad got up, and the kid couldn’t stop looking around for him)
Sensei- Hey buddy, I’m over here. Dad’s just around the corner talking to Mr. Kevin at the desk. See his stuff is still on the chair, he didn’t leave.
kid- Oh. Ok. (keeps looking)
Sensei- Jack, it’s ok, he’ll be right back. It’s karate time, try to focus, buddy.
kid- But what if he doesn’t come back?
Sensei- I guess you’ll have to come home with me and have a Sensei sleepover. We’ll do Sensei stuff all the time. Y’know what Senseis do at home?
kid- What?
Sensei- EAT ICE CREAM. All the time. Non-stop. Just ice cream, om nom nom!
kid- *heh, heh*
kid 2- You’re gonna get FAT.
Sensei- Haha, wow, yep, I guess it’s a good thing your dad’s here, Jack.

In the lobby chatting with a parent, the younger sibling of the student trips over a chair and makes a huge CRASH BANG BANG BANG. She puts the char upright, crawls back up to her feet and announces, “Good!… I’m ok!”

kid- I had coffee today!
Sensei- Decaffeinated?
kid- [shakes head] Caffeine, I love caffeine. [jumps up and down]
Sensei- You had caffeinated coffee?
kid- [stops jumping, nods furiously] I put 5 sugars in it [holds up fingers]. BIG ones.

(after tripping over something in the obstacle course)
kid- I’m ok, I’m tough. I hurted my toe really bad, but I’m BRAVE.

(we picked the deer card in Sensei Circle)
Sensei- Ooh, who knows what this is? It’s a deer!
kid 1- A reindeer!
Sensei- Almost, yeah, good idea. It’s LIKE a reindeer.
kid 2- [with a dead serious face] It lives at Christmas.
Sensei- Wow, um, yeah, I guess that’s true. It lives all the time though.
kid 2- Right.

(sliding on his stomach through a castle obstacle)
kid- Sensei! Sensei look! I’m a penguin!
Sensei- Wow, you sure are! Good job!

(a little girl was grabbing her crotch as she ran around the dojo. Let’s call her Emily)
Sensei- Hey Emily, c’mere. Are you ok? Do you have to go potty?
Emily- [looking worried] No…
Sensei- No? Ok. Are you ok? What’s up, sweetie?
Emily- I hurt myself when I was bear crawling.
Sensei- …Really?
Emily- Yeah, I kicked myself. [still clutching crotch]
Sensei- …Okaaaaay… Do you want to sit down, or do you want to keep going?
Emily- I think I should keep going.
Sensei- Ok, good idea, go for it.
[Emily continues to hold her crotch with one hand and run]

I set up a new obstacle with a heavy ball, and told the kids it was really special so they would pay special attention. When one boy went through it, he put the ball over his head with great effort and said, “Rrrgh! So… special!”

Upon seeing that we had drawn the bat card:
“I saw… a bat… with dinosaurs… and I was the fairy… and mom was the dinosaur.”

Sensei: Hey June, you did an amazing job in class today!
kid: Can I have a high five?
Sensei: How about a hug?
kid: [super excited] Oooh! Ok!

After the death of Osama bin Laden:
kid: Sensei! The criminal… He got shot with a missile.
Sensei: Wow, really?
kid: [nods] Yep.

[after laying down rope between obstacles]
Sensei: Uh oh, don’t step on the snakes, guys! Jump!
kid: Oh no! Are they poisonous?
Sensei: Nope, they’re venomous!
kid: …oh. They’re not poisonous?
Sensei: Nope, snakes aren’t poisonous. They’re venomous. Everyone say, “venomous!”
kids: VENOMOUS!

Normally shy little Japanese boy (age 4ish) hands me the biggest piece as we’re cleaning up the obstacle course.
Sensei: Wow, you got the big one, you must be pretty strong today.
kid: I’m all man!
Sensei: …What?
kid: [gets shy and starts drifting away]
Sensei: What did you say? Say that again.
kid: [bashfully] I’m all man! [runs away]

kid: Sensei! Did you know, that the bad guy, they shot him, with a missile. [in reference to Osama bin Laden’s death]
Sensei: That’s right, thank you.

Sensei: Ooh, the squirrel card. What is the squirrel holding?
kid 1: Acorn!
Sensei: That’s right! Very smart, an acorn. What does the acorn grow into? A mighty…?
kid 1: Nut tree?
kid 2: Squirrel?

I set up an obstacle course where the kids had to switch hands doing a hammer fist Right/Left/Right/Left. One kid kept using his right hand. The kid in front of him noticed and demonstrated using his left hand, saying, “Look. See what hand I’m using? Like that.”

kid: Sensei guess what!
Sensei: What?
kid: Um… My birthday is next year!
Sensei: Oh, that’s cool… I think all our birthdays are next year.

A girl fell while running across the balance beams, and instead of stopping or helping her up, the boy behind her just stepped over her as she started to get up, and kept running.

[kid raises hand in Animal Card Circle]
Sensei: Yes? Thank you for raising your hand.
kid: I have so many puppets.
Sensei: …Yeah?
kid: Yeah, but they’re not real.

A new student runs around the lava pit with the other kids, when suddenly he turns around, comes to a screeching halt, holds up his hand and yells, “STOP!”
Sensei: Hey, don’t stop, keep going!
The kid laughs and keeps running.

Sensei: Why do we meditate?
kid: It makes our anger go away, and makes our body awesome, and it makes us cool.
[When I told this kid’s mom about this, she said that he meditated when his friends overwhelmed him.]

Sensei: Ooh, the skunk card. What does the skunk do?
kid: He’s stinky.
Sensei: Yes, the skunk is stinky, but what does he do?
kid: He throws stuff.
Sensei: Uh, close, he sprays stuff. What does he spray?
kid: [big smile] Garbage.

Sensei: Ooh, the horse card. What is the horse good at?
kid: Running fast!
Sensei: That’s right, a horse can run faster than a person.
kid: …unless you run on the horse.

A special needs kid who said everything on his mind sat down with the other kids while I built an obstacle course. He looked outside and said, “Exit.” The room was totally silent otherwise, so cute.

Sensei: Eyes closed guys, meditation time.
kid: [blinking]
Sensei: Eyes closed, buddy.
kid: [still blinking] I can’t close my eyes.
Sensei: Yes you can.
kid: [closes eyes] Oh.

kid: Sensei! Sensei I fell! But I’m ok! I’m ok Sensei!

Sensei: Everybody frog jump! What sound does a frog make?
kid: [super loud] wih-BIT?!! wih-BIT?!! wih-BIT?!!

kid: I have five guys. They’re robbers or something.
Sensei: Yeah? Does your mom know about them?
kid: [nods] My mom knows, my sister knows… Usually I have two, but I just have one now.
Sensei: One robber?
kid: No, robbers aren’t real!

Sensei: Ooh, the skunk card! Who knows what the skunk does?
kid: He gets scared!
Sensei: That’s true, sometimes skunks get scared. Then what happens?
kid: Then, he has bad, bad, bad… gas.

Sensei: Ok guys, show me some strong kiais!
kid: Sensei, see THIS kiai… KI-YAAAAAAAAAAAAI!!!

UPDATE: May 6, 2013
Buzzfeed threw together a bunch of gifs (this thing) with an almost identical title to this post a week after I posted!  Copycats!

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badness, life, work

No warrior, no war

It’s about a half-mile walk from my office at Office Job to my car at a parking structure a couple of blocks away.  Typically when I walk through any parking lot, I make it a point to keep my eyes up, and stop fussing with my phone, or stick my head in my purse, or otherwise distract myself from… whatever.

paranoid parrot knows what I'm talking about

I’ve come to realize that “whatever” really means imminent attack by some asshole who wants to steal my car/accost me, etc.  I’ve never been attacked by a sober person, so this would be a new experience for me.  Still, I can feel myself tense up a little when I step off the elevator to the third floor of the parking structure.  I’ve finally given in to reading The Hunger Games on my Kindle, but as the doors open, my eyes slip up from the screen, and I step forward, full of caution and confidence, ready for some hidden enemy to pounce.

There have been men working to replace all the lights in the structure every day this week, and yesterday was no exception.  As I walked away from them toward my car, I thought about how I could probably read my book right now instead of keeping an eye out since there are people around.

My mind goes to work.  I calculate how many times I would have to scream for them to realize what they’re hearing, and how long it would take them to arrive to help me.  At least one of them is overweight; he would never arrive in time, and probably wouldn’t be able to do anything useful, so I subtract him from the equation.  Then I calculate how likely these men would be to help a woman being attacked by a man a) with bare fists b) with a knife c) with a gun.  Anything worse than a pocket knife would probably scare them off.  On the other side of the equal sign I’m left with one not-overweight maintenance worker who wouldn’t jump in front of a knife to help me, which means I shouldn’t depend on him at all.  I decide I can probably trust them to ward off any attacker with merely their presence.  “I’m probably safe,” I think as I slip my Kindle in my bag and pull out my keys without breaking stride or dropping my gaze.   My eyes pan across the floor between cars for shadows and feet, then back across the windshields to see if anyone is lying in wait.  I’ve given myself permission to relax,  but I can’t stop preparing for… whatever.

Whenever I teach a women’s self-defense class, I try to calm them down: I say something like, “I just want to point out, and I don’t mean to sound callous or hurt anyone’s feelings, but you are not a special snowflake.  You will probably never get attacked.  I hate to break it to you, but you’re just not that special.  Relax.  You’re here to learn something potentially useful, not to safeguard against the inevitable.”

Where did this hyper-cautious impulse come from?  Did my training make me crave an attack so I can test my skills?  I could’ve sworn I had grown out of that phase.  Or do I worry about an attack because I know all the ways a person can cause injury to another with their bare hands?  Did the two fights I’ve been in make me like this?  They turned out well, what am I worrying about?  I’m no warrior, and there is no war going on.  Why am I like this?  What am I doing?  It feels like such a huge waste of time to be this tense every day… then again, if the alternative is getting blindsided by some asshole in a ski mask, I’d rather miss twenty seconds of whatever novel I’m reading to make it to the car sans violent encounter.

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goodness, humor, martial arts

Tae Kwon Do

This video has been making the rounds the past couple of days.  Instant classic.  Look at these kids, bouncing around like little bunnies.  Notice they have a pretty standard fighting stance before the fight starts, but as soon as it starts, their hands drop like all Tae Kwon Do trained fighters do, because they’re waiting for their opponent to kick them so they can dodge and kick back.  No hands involved, just lightning-fast feet and brutally strong legs.  Unless you’re an adorable child, like one of these little monsters.

hop hop *twirl* hop hop hop

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goodness, life, martial arts

Memory serves

This afternoon, on the 40th of my 108 days of meditation, I had an epiphany; I remembered a lesson I had forgotten years ago, and what a shame I lost track of it.

When I first started training, I was so proud to be a martial artist.  Two or three years in, I still bragged about training for my black belts.  I worked hard at the dojang, and thought that just by practicing what I was taught, I was, in a small way, better than other people.

It took me a long while to figure out that I wanted to be really good at what I was doing, and that participation alone wouldn’t ensure that I would master the styles I studied.  There’s a distinct difference between a practitioner of a martial art, and a someone who is dedicated to the martial art.  All my fellow students were practitioners.  It was only because I joined the school earlier than the others that I out-ranked them.  I decided that time alone should not determine my skill level.  I had to have a hand in it.  My rank would speak less about the number of classes I had taken, and more about myself as a martial artist.  I started really paying attention, and realized my place in the world was very small.  Being a martial artist meant nothing except what I made of it.  The best I could do was to hone my own skills and become the best tool for the style that I could.

It was a difficult transition for me.  My pride, which I had cultivated and nourished for years, suddenly had no place to call home.  I silenced my heart.  My rank became meaningless; no matter what color I wore, I never felt worthy of it.  I suddenly felt no competition with my similarly ranked classmates.  I practiced silence, occasionally speaking just a handful of words in a day.  It paid off, and my form became close to perfect.  As Naruto would say, I had found “my way of the ninja.”

I’ve been meditating for ten minutes a day for 40 days, and because of that I thought I was special.  I had forgotten that my objective is mastery, not participation.  Kung Fu loosely translates to “skill” and “effort,” but even that is not enough to become a master.  Even now there is a disquieting feeling in my chest; I can feel my pride rebelling against its second  eviction in a decade.  It claims that it is no sin to be proud of my accomplishments, and yes, this is true.  But the distraction is an unnecessary obstacle.  The sense that I have achieved my goal just as I begin to learn a new style is unforgivable.  The brown sash I’ve been given will blind me if I let it.  For a second time, I must quiet my heart, and retreat to a quiet, humble place.

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goodness, life, martial arts

A truth about being a martial artist

Being a martial artist is great for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is that it makes me feel like a total badass.  Being athletic for so long means I’m pretty coordinated, I move gracefully, I don’t trip and fall and injure myself… ever.  Plus, being a female martial artist automatically puts me in a special category, and everyone loves being special.

And all that sounds great, but if I’d be lying if I said that any of those topped my list of why being a true martial artist is worth all the training, sweating and pain. Having been punched and kicked until I bled may sound brutal; having sharp eyes and fast feet that can flash above my own head may sound pretty sweet; but it’s the sum of these skills and experiences that produces the best part of being a good fighter: the quiet.  I’m confident that my training has prepared me to survive (and win) most fights, and I find that to be incredibly soothing.

yes, there is a little solar eclipse in my tummy

I rediscovered this sensation while interviewing someone at Office Job.  I’ve only been there less than a year, so I still feel like the new kid.  However, during the interview, I realized that I would be looked to for counsel on how to handle this situation or deal with that person, and that I could give sound advice.  I’m getting good at my job, and that’s really quite… relaxing.  It’s the same feeling I had when I got my black belts: a sense of pride and confidence.  Of course, when I got my black belts, my body felt like it was pulsating with potential, that the ability to fight (and fight well) practically coursed through me.  It was all I could do to contain it.  It was exhilarating.  My whole body was buzzing with power and fluid motion, and amidst all that there was a still, quiet core to keep me from flying in all directions.

That buzzing feeling has faded to a hum, but its silent anchor remains.  The best part of being a true martial artist is the silence.

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badness, martial arts

No one makes me bleed my own blood!!

As I’ve mentioned before, Saturday is the only day I have completely off.  On my other day off I spend four hours at the Kung Fu studio teaching, sweating, and learning ancient ways to become even more of a badass.  There weren’t many people around for Thursday night’s intermediate class, so it morphed into a wrestling/sparring class.  It was pretty fun.  I got roped into doing the Saturday sparring class.

Naruto knows exactly how I felt

When I mentioned to Diminutive Roommate that I’d be sparring for the first time in five years, she was confused.  She thought sparring took place during regular classes.  She couldn’t figure out how I’d been teaching all this time, and hadn’t sparred even once.  So let me take a moment to describe sparring the way it’s generally taught at martial arts schools.  Traditionally, sparring is when two trained martial artists throw on some gear (gloves, shin pads, head gear, mouth guard, chest padding, etc.), and exchange controlled hits to test their reflexes.  No one’s going for a knock out, or even attempting to injure their partner.  To do so would be disrespectful, and defeat the purpose of the exercise.

Or so I thought when I said I would be happy to attend a Saturday sparring match.  I was mistaken.  Before this class, I had never attended a sparring session where it was acceptable behavior to:
-intentionally and repeatedly aim strong punches to the head of an opponent not wearing head gear
-offer no apology for incurring even a simple injury like a bloody nose
-the majority of the class completely ignore instructions to use only 30% power
-a high-rank student is permitted to intentionally use more power than an equally-ranked partner (against that partner)

The instructor was very helpful and gave me some really excellent pointers.  He was very engaging and clearly interested in watching his students improve, which we did over the course of the class.  So I’m pretty heartbroken to say that there’s very little chance that I can go back to that class.  I have since learned that my partner of equal rank (who we’ll call Kris) is apparently known as “No Control” Kris.  Yikes.  Why is she allowed to spar?  Why intentionally injure your classmates?  Is your training really so important that things like restraint get lost in the process?

Maybe I’ve just gone soft.  It’s been five years since I sparred last, I’m not in my best shape, and I did well considering.  Frankly, I’m feeling good about my performance, but I have a lot to learn and a lot to improve, but… I won’t, because I can’t go back to that class if that’s what will be allowed from her and other students.

I don’t want an apology.  I want to train.  I don’t want a concussion, but I want to learn.  Gotta make this happen.

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martial arts

Meditation consternation

I started my Kung Fu training about six months ago, and received a brown sash this month.  It’s a big deal.  I’m one of maybe five brown sashes in the entire school.  I’m trying not to stress too much about it, the burden of being a leading female in a hard core martial arts school (again), and so far, so good.  It’s a title I’m used to holding, just not in a group of almost strangers.  I’m doing well so far, making friends, keeping my mouth shut when I should–mostly (still perfecting that one)–and taking constructive criticism with open ears and a grin.

plus, if I try meditating when I wake up, I pass out

One aspect of the training I’m still getting used to is the constant meditation; 10 minutes per day, sitting in a specific posture, utilizing specific breathing exercises, etc.  It’s not difficult but it takes some planning, and life tends to try to get in the way.  So far the biggest obstacle isn’t finding the time, it’s forcing myself not to eat/drink before and after.  You’d think I could just overeat beforehand to take care of the allotted no-eating/drinking-time that precedes and follows meditation, but you’d be wrong.  When you have a metabolism like a hummingbird, eating every couple hours becomes essential, lest that wold-class tantrum that’s been building up behind these gentle hazel eyes finally gets unleashed.  In which case, good luck, unbroken bones of the people around me, it’s been nice knowin’ ya.

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life, martial arts

A generation of softies

what a douche

I’ve heard many people compare learning martial arts to joining the armed forces.  Participants become physically and mentally tougher, learn valuable fighting skills, and get their asses kicked on a fairly regular basis.  Whenever I run into another martial artist, our common trials bond us together instantly.  The running joke goes something like, “What crazy bullshit did your master put you through?”  We compare scars and bruises, techniques and tactics.  With a knowing smile and a firm handshake, we’re friends before we even know each other’s names.

[Note: This does not include martial artists who brag about their abilities.  Those are a totally separate group of people who are all buddies for different, more self-indulgent reasons.  I do not consider these people martial artists at heart.  See picture.  Note the poorly photo shopped American flag, and how the portion of his black belt with kanji has been intentionally blurred.  That’s taboo.  Badly done, Chuck.]

But things have changed since I was a student.  Instructors praise their students constantly.  They smile and laugh when their students make mistakes, then encourage them to try again.  This positive feedback approach is the complete opposite of what my generation (and all past generations) of martial arts students experienced.  How will my students bond in the future?  Certainly not over what a bastard I was.  I hope.  Crap.

Yes, things have changed.  My instructors were never wrong.  Being in class meant not smiling, not laughing, and never, ever talking back to the instructor.  If you made a mistake, the Grand Master would point in out in front of the whole class, often with anger in his voice.  And for what?  To humiliate the students into getting it right the next time?  All it did was make me tense.  I was not happy there.  Why did I stay?

I think it must have been the people.  The fact is, even with the tyrannical nature of the studio, we still had a lot of fun.  We still joked around and laughed and goofed off (and got in trouble for it).  We would clean up the studio, then go out for Korean food at the 24-hour place in K-town.  I had a blast, and it saddens me that I’m not really in touch with anyone from those days.  Gotta work on that.

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