It can't be denied that, within the world of karate there are many conflicting ideas and beleifs. There is a huge difference in where people stand morally on sport karate while some strongly disagree with children taking part in karate and others are all in favour with some individuals taking a more liberal view.
Those are just a few examples of how many experienced karateka have strong views on how certain things should be done and will disagree just as strongly with the opposing views of others, which there is nothing wrong with. Personally, I am of a much more liberal mentality due to my lack of experience and I know it's likely that I will probably become more opinionated in the future.
But for now, I would like to offer my somewhat naive take on the conflicting ideas within karate. I think, although the diversity in karate has, some people might argue, 'torn it apart', as a result of conflicting opinions, perhaps it's also beneficial and one of karate's strengths. This is because that anything one person thinks or says about it will, inevitably, be put in question by another. It's this disagreement that means viewpoints are constantly challenged and therefore never blindly accepted. If they were, then perhaps karate could be in a much worse state than many people think it is? Also, because we have to constantly justify our beleifs, even if just to ourselves , it keeps us in touch with why we beleive it and the way which we go about training. Especially at a time like this, when the internet and youtube means that any dedicated and serious karateka will come across opinions and ideas different to their's or their sensei's.
For more experienced readers shaking their heads at my naivete, I do know that there are definitely some ways not to do karate, like anything involving laziness and generally not making an effort. But, there's also more than one way to do it right. I will probably regret writing this in the future but I feel it's an interesting angle to consider it from.
Saturday 13 June 2015
Tuesday 9 June 2015
A Reason to Embrace Difficulty
Several weeks ago, I was at a course in southwest England. After the course had finished, the black belts were kept behind for what must have been half an hour because the chief instructor of our association wanted to introduce Kaishu Ippon Kumite to the grading syllabus for 2nd dan and above-and for us to try it there and then.
For readers unfamiliar with Kaishu Ippon Kumite, it's like Jiyu Ippon Kumite, only when the defender blocks and counters, the attacker blocks their counter and lands another counter-strike.
Anyway, it was demonstrated to us, then we had to pair up and have a go ourselves. This was a kumite I had done before in training sessions back at my club, but not enough to feel comfortable with it (as comfortable as a person can be with something that unpredictable). I was paired up with an Instructor who was a 5th dan from another club. I attacked first, he blocked and countered, then I blocked and hesitated slightly while looking for an opening where I could land my counter. This hesitation repeated itself several times. I will admit improvising under that kind of pressure is something I need to work on.
After everyone had finished, we were told to go through it again. My partner suggested that, if the initial attack was, say, a mawashi-geri, then the final counterattack landed would be the same thing. I did as he suggested. After all, he was an Instructor with a great deal more experience than me, he was a higher grade than me so it was the polite thing to do.
But inspite of my inexperience, I find it difficult to see the effectiveness of this way of doing things. I mean no disrespect to the Instructor I was paired up with and this post is by no means a criticism of his views, as I'm sure he has a good reason for them. I am just writing about my opinion, formed as a result of not agreeing with him.What if the previous attack was not a suitable technique for where there was a gap in the attacker's guard? Surely, part of dealing with an attacker is adapting to their movement and learning to improvise under pressure. It's such a vital skill to learn as a karateka and to be able to, heaven forbid, defend oneself if confronted with an attacker out of the Dojo.
Furthermore, all that difficulty we face in karate is to help us improve. Holding a stance for ages is not comfortable, but we get strong legs which provide a strong foundation for techniques and enable us to kick with more ease. Sparring for a long time is exausting but it means , eventually, we can do it for longer. Those first few times teaching lower grades is hugely uncomfortable and highly embarrassing, but through trial and error, both teacher and student can gain immensely from the experience. That difficulty we have learning new katas all pays off as it becomes a thing of beauty and practicality. Therefore, difficulty in karate is something to welcome with open arms, not to be avoided, as we might do in the rest of our lives!
For readers unfamiliar with Kaishu Ippon Kumite, it's like Jiyu Ippon Kumite, only when the defender blocks and counters, the attacker blocks their counter and lands another counter-strike.
Anyway, it was demonstrated to us, then we had to pair up and have a go ourselves. This was a kumite I had done before in training sessions back at my club, but not enough to feel comfortable with it (as comfortable as a person can be with something that unpredictable). I was paired up with an Instructor who was a 5th dan from another club. I attacked first, he blocked and countered, then I blocked and hesitated slightly while looking for an opening where I could land my counter. This hesitation repeated itself several times. I will admit improvising under that kind of pressure is something I need to work on.
After everyone had finished, we were told to go through it again. My partner suggested that, if the initial attack was, say, a mawashi-geri, then the final counterattack landed would be the same thing. I did as he suggested. After all, he was an Instructor with a great deal more experience than me, he was a higher grade than me so it was the polite thing to do.
But inspite of my inexperience, I find it difficult to see the effectiveness of this way of doing things. I mean no disrespect to the Instructor I was paired up with and this post is by no means a criticism of his views, as I'm sure he has a good reason for them. I am just writing about my opinion, formed as a result of not agreeing with him.What if the previous attack was not a suitable technique for where there was a gap in the attacker's guard? Surely, part of dealing with an attacker is adapting to their movement and learning to improvise under pressure. It's such a vital skill to learn as a karateka and to be able to, heaven forbid, defend oneself if confronted with an attacker out of the Dojo.
Furthermore, all that difficulty we face in karate is to help us improve. Holding a stance for ages is not comfortable, but we get strong legs which provide a strong foundation for techniques and enable us to kick with more ease. Sparring for a long time is exausting but it means , eventually, we can do it for longer. Those first few times teaching lower grades is hugely uncomfortable and highly embarrassing, but through trial and error, both teacher and student can gain immensely from the experience. That difficulty we have learning new katas all pays off as it becomes a thing of beauty and practicality. Therefore, difficulty in karate is something to welcome with open arms, not to be avoided, as we might do in the rest of our lives!
Tuesday 17 February 2015
New Year Resolutions...Seriously?
I came an article today that took me by surprise. Unrelated to karate, it was about how to keep up new year resolutions. The reason it took me by surprise was that it had been published late in February and I was not expecting to read much about it after January 1st.
I think this highlights quite neatly why I humbly consider the whole concept of new year resolutions utterly ridiculous.The fact there is so much fuss about them in the early weeks of January, with many gyms making the bulk of their money then, and about a month later one does not expect to hear much about them because not much is said about them. It seems to be this idea of setting out to do something, but giving up soon after. I am not criticizing people who do this, I am criticizing the fact it seems to have become a tradition. Because how often do you hear of people sticking to their resolutions in, for example, June. For most, if not all, the answer is never. It seems to be tradition to set yourself a goal and give up on it, not, I gather, with the mentality of being determined no matter what. Even if last year, the goal remained unacheived, people still don't learn from it and do the same thing next December 31st. My Sensei often talks about Einstein's definition of insanity 'repeating the same thing over and over again and expecting different results'.
Although I consider new year resolutions to have very little point, that is not to say I do not apply a similar practice with my Karate sometimes. Usually after a period like Christmas or Easter, where most of us take several days off work or school, I will reflect on how I have been practicing and training, what I need to do more of, gaps in my knowledge that I should research, where I need to alter my mentality, etc... I think it's wise to take the time to look back and evaluate sometimes, just to keep everything 'in proportion' and to know where you stand.
Do I class this as making new year resolutions? No I don't. For a start, I don't just do it in January, but whenever I feel my training and practice becomes disorganized and things need to be reconsidered. I may do it in January if I need to, but with the same mentality of doing it in May. New Year is no better a time to turn over a new leaf than any other point in the year. In fact, one could argue that it's better to avoid turning over a new leaf during the whole 'resolution craze' to avoid falling victim to it. Also, it's small changes and improvements that I normally make, things that are more achievable than the huge goals people often set themselves. If, instead of new year resolutions, once a month we all considered what small changes we could make to better ourselves or the lives of those who are with us on a regular basis, I think that would be more manageable, achievable, productive and therefore less pointless.
It's fair to say that this post is a little off-topic for a blog about karate, but I feel there's an important point to make here about motivation in training. When feeling motivated, it's easy to carry on with karate, but it's an emotion that can't be sustained. So we have to accept that the larger portion of our time training will seem mundane and, at times, it will feel impossible to carry on and that it will be grit determination and a love for what we do that will get us far.
I think this highlights quite neatly why I humbly consider the whole concept of new year resolutions utterly ridiculous.The fact there is so much fuss about them in the early weeks of January, with many gyms making the bulk of their money then, and about a month later one does not expect to hear much about them because not much is said about them. It seems to be this idea of setting out to do something, but giving up soon after. I am not criticizing people who do this, I am criticizing the fact it seems to have become a tradition. Because how often do you hear of people sticking to their resolutions in, for example, June. For most, if not all, the answer is never. It seems to be tradition to set yourself a goal and give up on it, not, I gather, with the mentality of being determined no matter what. Even if last year, the goal remained unacheived, people still don't learn from it and do the same thing next December 31st. My Sensei often talks about Einstein's definition of insanity 'repeating the same thing over and over again and expecting different results'.
Although I consider new year resolutions to have very little point, that is not to say I do not apply a similar practice with my Karate sometimes. Usually after a period like Christmas or Easter, where most of us take several days off work or school, I will reflect on how I have been practicing and training, what I need to do more of, gaps in my knowledge that I should research, where I need to alter my mentality, etc... I think it's wise to take the time to look back and evaluate sometimes, just to keep everything 'in proportion' and to know where you stand.
Do I class this as making new year resolutions? No I don't. For a start, I don't just do it in January, but whenever I feel my training and practice becomes disorganized and things need to be reconsidered. I may do it in January if I need to, but with the same mentality of doing it in May. New Year is no better a time to turn over a new leaf than any other point in the year. In fact, one could argue that it's better to avoid turning over a new leaf during the whole 'resolution craze' to avoid falling victim to it. Also, it's small changes and improvements that I normally make, things that are more achievable than the huge goals people often set themselves. If, instead of new year resolutions, once a month we all considered what small changes we could make to better ourselves or the lives of those who are with us on a regular basis, I think that would be more manageable, achievable, productive and therefore less pointless.
It's fair to say that this post is a little off-topic for a blog about karate, but I feel there's an important point to make here about motivation in training. When feeling motivated, it's easy to carry on with karate, but it's an emotion that can't be sustained. So we have to accept that the larger portion of our time training will seem mundane and, at times, it will feel impossible to carry on and that it will be grit determination and a love for what we do that will get us far.
Monday 16 February 2015
Art or Aggression?
One does not have to have trained for very long, or trained at all, to be aware of the demanding nature of studying a martial art and the kind of mentality training requires. Often, it can be easy to misinterpret this and have a somewhat distorted view of what it means to practice karate (or any other martial art, for that matter).
When some people find out I practice karate, they look mildly surprised. I suspect this is because I do not normally exhibit the aggression stereo-typically associated with studying such a seemingly combative discipline. I do not posses the aggression or machoism that can be very present in the world of modern karate.
It can't be denied that many individuals perceive karate as a system devoted to combat and glorifying violence. First, I should draw attention to the fact that there is a difference between learning to 'fight' and learning to 'defend yourself''. Self-defense(as karate is often portrayed) is used when faced with another individual wanting to inflict serious harm. The point I want to make from this is that defending oneself is not an act of violence. It is used as a result of the use of violence. It is a hostile world out there where people get hurt. A self-defense system can't be blamed for the violence in this world, it occurs as a result of many other things. It's not ideal to have to harm another being, but for those desperate situations that nobody wants to be faced with, we have no choice if we want to leave the situation and still be alive.
That is an example one of karate's more extreme aspects and how it does not encourage anger and violence. But what about more everyday aspects, such as life in the dojo? I think what can alarm many people about dojo training is how the restrictions that appear in most other walks of life do not seem to be there. Take jiyu-kumite (freestyle sparring) as an example, when else do we find ourselves, (most of us),consciously and deliberately attacking a person who is not a threat? For most, if not all karateka, the answer is never. But in spite of this, I think kumite does very little in the way of glorifying violence. The skill it teaches a person is how to improvise under pressure, not how to harm someone else. Also, before and after sparring, it's traditional to bow/shake hands as a mark of respect, a vow to not give your partner too much more than they can take, to avoid injuring them. It's more an exercise in self-control and trust rather than hurting someone!
Where I train, before we go through basics or katas at full speed, my Sensei often says, 'do it like your life depends on it'. I think this sums up very well the type of mindset needed when doing karate full power. The fact that it's combative motions (kicking and punching etc...) done with this sheer conviction make it very easy to project aggression on to karate. Not to mention that, for once in life, not having to maintain a well-mannered, calm facade is very liberating.
I would be naive to say that the world of modern karate is devoid of aggression, necessary or not. But, in spite of my inexperience, I do feel I make a valid point when I say that we should ask ourselves how big a part of karate do anger and violence really make up.
When some people find out I practice karate, they look mildly surprised. I suspect this is because I do not normally exhibit the aggression stereo-typically associated with studying such a seemingly combative discipline. I do not posses the aggression or machoism that can be very present in the world of modern karate.
It can't be denied that many individuals perceive karate as a system devoted to combat and glorifying violence. First, I should draw attention to the fact that there is a difference between learning to 'fight' and learning to 'defend yourself''. Self-defense(as karate is often portrayed) is used when faced with another individual wanting to inflict serious harm. The point I want to make from this is that defending oneself is not an act of violence. It is used as a result of the use of violence. It is a hostile world out there where people get hurt. A self-defense system can't be blamed for the violence in this world, it occurs as a result of many other things. It's not ideal to have to harm another being, but for those desperate situations that nobody wants to be faced with, we have no choice if we want to leave the situation and still be alive.
That is an example one of karate's more extreme aspects and how it does not encourage anger and violence. But what about more everyday aspects, such as life in the dojo? I think what can alarm many people about dojo training is how the restrictions that appear in most other walks of life do not seem to be there. Take jiyu-kumite (freestyle sparring) as an example, when else do we find ourselves, (most of us),consciously and deliberately attacking a person who is not a threat? For most, if not all karateka, the answer is never. But in spite of this, I think kumite does very little in the way of glorifying violence. The skill it teaches a person is how to improvise under pressure, not how to harm someone else. Also, before and after sparring, it's traditional to bow/shake hands as a mark of respect, a vow to not give your partner too much more than they can take, to avoid injuring them. It's more an exercise in self-control and trust rather than hurting someone!
Where I train, before we go through basics or katas at full speed, my Sensei often says, 'do it like your life depends on it'. I think this sums up very well the type of mindset needed when doing karate full power. The fact that it's combative motions (kicking and punching etc...) done with this sheer conviction make it very easy to project aggression on to karate. Not to mention that, for once in life, not having to maintain a well-mannered, calm facade is very liberating.
I would be naive to say that the world of modern karate is devoid of aggression, necessary or not. But, in spite of my inexperience, I do feel I make a valid point when I say that we should ask ourselves how big a part of karate do anger and violence really make up.
Thursday 29 January 2015
Teaching Gets the Better of Me
I have been teaching lower grades at my club for over a year now and made the mistake of thinking that I had nailed it, that I had developed all the relevant skills to pass information and techniques to less experienced karateka. Which, of course, is wrong. It takes much longer than I've been training to even begin to get good at any aspect of karate.
It first dawned on me how much of an idiot I'd been after training last Monday. About halfway through, Sensei instructed me to help a 3rd kyu with Bassai Dai. According to the 3rd kyu, Bassai Dai was completely new to him and he had not done it before. Many times, I had worked on Bassai Dai with karateka of his grade who knew the kata already but I'd never had to introduce anything, let alone Bassai Dai to anyone.
I'm not sure how coherent my introduction was, I explained what the meaning of Bassai Dai was, then if I remember rightly, the rest was waffle. Some advice to people in my situation: less talking, more karate. Unless you have amazing improvisation skills, you will find your mind blank and feel put on the spot if you attempt a longer verbal introduction like I made the mistake of doing. The chances are, it will come out incoherently and the student will gain nothing from it. That 3rd kyu was there to train, not to listen to some awkward, inexperienced dan grade. I't worth bearing this in mind for any student/s you end up teaching. A better option is to go through whatever you are working on with them and fit in explaining points about bunkai, historical context, etc... around it. It's less pressure from a teaching perspective, it wastes less time and the student/s get/s more out of it. It's also worth remembering that it's each karateka's individual responsibility to practice and research karate so ultimately, their long term progress is out of your hands.
I need to remember to take it slower and not rush when explaining/ correcting things because the 3rd kyu became quite confused on regular occasions and I hold myself responsible because of my hasty explainations. Another reason I found Bassai Dai difficult to teach is because of its length(about twice that of the heian katas). Is it better to go through the whole thing multiple times, and spend less time on each technique, or break it down, about 6 moves at a time, but maybe not get through the whole kata?
But the thing I berate myself for the most is, at the point in the kata where 3 shuto-ukes in kokutsu-dachi and one backwards precede a movement that could be interpreted as a wrist lock, I taught the unfortunate 3rd kyu 4 shuto-ukes forward! The only good thing that happened was when I realised my mistake and taught him the correct way, Which was quite embarrassing. My lack of teaching experience got the better of me.
It first dawned on me how much of an idiot I'd been after training last Monday. About halfway through, Sensei instructed me to help a 3rd kyu with Bassai Dai. According to the 3rd kyu, Bassai Dai was completely new to him and he had not done it before. Many times, I had worked on Bassai Dai with karateka of his grade who knew the kata already but I'd never had to introduce anything, let alone Bassai Dai to anyone.
I'm not sure how coherent my introduction was, I explained what the meaning of Bassai Dai was, then if I remember rightly, the rest was waffle. Some advice to people in my situation: less talking, more karate. Unless you have amazing improvisation skills, you will find your mind blank and feel put on the spot if you attempt a longer verbal introduction like I made the mistake of doing. The chances are, it will come out incoherently and the student will gain nothing from it. That 3rd kyu was there to train, not to listen to some awkward, inexperienced dan grade. I't worth bearing this in mind for any student/s you end up teaching. A better option is to go through whatever you are working on with them and fit in explaining points about bunkai, historical context, etc... around it. It's less pressure from a teaching perspective, it wastes less time and the student/s get/s more out of it. It's also worth remembering that it's each karateka's individual responsibility to practice and research karate so ultimately, their long term progress is out of your hands.
I need to remember to take it slower and not rush when explaining/ correcting things because the 3rd kyu became quite confused on regular occasions and I hold myself responsible because of my hasty explainations. Another reason I found Bassai Dai difficult to teach is because of its length(about twice that of the heian katas). Is it better to go through the whole thing multiple times, and spend less time on each technique, or break it down, about 6 moves at a time, but maybe not get through the whole kata?
 |
| Kata Bassai Dai |
But the thing I berate myself for the most is, at the point in the kata where 3 shuto-ukes in kokutsu-dachi and one backwards precede a movement that could be interpreted as a wrist lock, I taught the unfortunate 3rd kyu 4 shuto-ukes forward! The only good thing that happened was when I realised my mistake and taught him the correct way, Which was quite embarrassing. My lack of teaching experience got the better of me.
Sunday 21 December 2014
Karate and Christmas
Christmas is supposed to be a time for love and generosity; a time for goodwill and empathy. Or is it?
Personally, I am of the opinion that this is no longer the mentality of Christmas and it has been reduced to a romanticism. Christmas has become something one can enjoy only if they can afford it. It has become so commercialised and materialistic that very little of its true meaning still remains.
Increasingly, Christmas is being seen as an opportunity to make money. The recent Sainsbury's advert that caused so much controversy is a sad reflection of how far businesses are prepared to go to make a profit. In this case, it was trivialising something profoundly terrible, World War One, to try and sell goods. The fact that they value making money at Christmas more than respecting those who lost their lives or were emotionally and physically scarred by the war just goes to show the extent of it! I won't go in to a huge amount of detail about it, there are plenty of articles online that do that.
Another example of what I'm talking about is the John Lewis advert that is released every December. Yes, it certainly tugs at one's heartstrings, but allow the façade to fall away and you will find a colder motivation which is using Christmas as an opportunity to make money.
I sincerely hope Karate does not suffer a fate similar to this. I sincerely hope that commercialisation and political ambitions do not replace its true values. For example, the main concern of a Sensei should be his or her students and the main concern of a head of an organisation should be the members of that organisation, the quality of the karate, etc... Regrettably, this is not always the case, instead, people can be in it for themselves with really tall egos. I consider myself very fortunate to be training under a sensei who is not egotistical or in it for himself and for my organisation to be relatively un-political.
Comparable with Christmas becoming materialistic is how karateka can become overly concerned with belt promotions and winning competitions. I am, by no means against sport karate or the belt system. My point is that these are obvious, black and white benchmarks of success in karate and therefore an oddity. Success is never usually in black and white when it comes to karate. Often, its those achievements that aren't in black and white that can be of the most value to us. The fact karate has given me the self-confidence to do things and take opportunities that I would not have done or taken before, taught me so much about myself and life alongside making me a stronger person means more to me than the fact I passed my 1st dan last year. Passing 1st dan was the most obvious benchmark of success out of the examples I gave and it's also probably the one most likely to make me look good infront of other people, as would winning competitions, but I don't participate in them. To be concerned with looking good to other people and having a false sense of self-importance is to forget what it really means to be a karateka. It's O.K to be concerned about things like passing gradings; most of us are to some extent but we should not let it be the only thing in our training. Because karate is much more complex than that.
We can never replicate the days of Okinawa in this modern world but that is not to say we shouldn't find a way to modernize karate and still do it justice to prevent it suffering a fate similar to that of Christmas.
Personally, I am of the opinion that this is no longer the mentality of Christmas and it has been reduced to a romanticism. Christmas has become something one can enjoy only if they can afford it. It has become so commercialised and materialistic that very little of its true meaning still remains.
Increasingly, Christmas is being seen as an opportunity to make money. The recent Sainsbury's advert that caused so much controversy is a sad reflection of how far businesses are prepared to go to make a profit. In this case, it was trivialising something profoundly terrible, World War One, to try and sell goods. The fact that they value making money at Christmas more than respecting those who lost their lives or were emotionally and physically scarred by the war just goes to show the extent of it! I won't go in to a huge amount of detail about it, there are plenty of articles online that do that.
Another example of what I'm talking about is the John Lewis advert that is released every December. Yes, it certainly tugs at one's heartstrings, but allow the façade to fall away and you will find a colder motivation which is using Christmas as an opportunity to make money.
I sincerely hope Karate does not suffer a fate similar to this. I sincerely hope that commercialisation and political ambitions do not replace its true values. For example, the main concern of a Sensei should be his or her students and the main concern of a head of an organisation should be the members of that organisation, the quality of the karate, etc... Regrettably, this is not always the case, instead, people can be in it for themselves with really tall egos. I consider myself very fortunate to be training under a sensei who is not egotistical or in it for himself and for my organisation to be relatively un-political.
Comparable with Christmas becoming materialistic is how karateka can become overly concerned with belt promotions and winning competitions. I am, by no means against sport karate or the belt system. My point is that these are obvious, black and white benchmarks of success in karate and therefore an oddity. Success is never usually in black and white when it comes to karate. Often, its those achievements that aren't in black and white that can be of the most value to us. The fact karate has given me the self-confidence to do things and take opportunities that I would not have done or taken before, taught me so much about myself and life alongside making me a stronger person means more to me than the fact I passed my 1st dan last year. Passing 1st dan was the most obvious benchmark of success out of the examples I gave and it's also probably the one most likely to make me look good infront of other people, as would winning competitions, but I don't participate in them. To be concerned with looking good to other people and having a false sense of self-importance is to forget what it really means to be a karateka. It's O.K to be concerned about things like passing gradings; most of us are to some extent but we should not let it be the only thing in our training. Because karate is much more complex than that.
We can never replicate the days of Okinawa in this modern world but that is not to say we shouldn't find a way to modernize karate and still do it justice to prevent it suffering a fate similar to that of Christmas.
Monday 8 December 2014
Always Looking Forward, Never Looking Back
Two months ago, I was on a training course run by my karate association. It was aimed at brown and black belts. For the two hours we were there, we had been split in to two groups according to our grade.
The head Instructor of our association had been the one training the black belts. Towards the end of the two hours, he said, " Just gather around me a moment". We did so.
"Look at you belts"
We all glanced down at the black lengths of fabric tied around our waists, some of which had evidently seen a great deal of training.
" Are you proud of them?"
His question caught me by surprise; it isn't what one expects to be asked by a sensei after training. I don't know if it was just me who was surprised because we all replied with a quiet "oss".
He carried on speaking, " we all, me included, sometimes put this", he indicated his belt and gi, " on like an old boiler suit. But, when you feel like giving up, because we all feel like that sometimes, remember the blood, sweat and tears it took for you to get to this level; you don't want that to be for nothing"
I felt that his words had a great deal of truth in them. When he talked about the urge to give up, I could really relate to that. I'd certainly felt it several times during my first 9 months as a 1st dan.
Passing black belt did not bring with it the sense of self-satisfaction and enlightenment that I'd often fantasized about as a kyu grade. Instead, I feel more lost and inexperienced than I ever have done since the first time I walked in to a dojo.
It shows how, as karateka, we are always looking forward and never looking back. Because we are always searching for something better or closer to perfection in training. This is an integral part of karate's beauty. It allows us to study it for a lifetime and really grow to love and understand it. The fact what was said at the end of that course surprised me was, I think, because it contradicted this principle. 'When you feel like giving up, remember the blood, sweat and tears it took to get to this point'. So maybe looking back does have a place in karate. When there's nothing to look forward at, ( that urge to give up), the other thing we can do is look back and, from there, possibly find the strength to carry on.
The head Instructor of our association had been the one training the black belts. Towards the end of the two hours, he said, " Just gather around me a moment". We did so.
"Look at you belts"
We all glanced down at the black lengths of fabric tied around our waists, some of which had evidently seen a great deal of training.
" Are you proud of them?"
His question caught me by surprise; it isn't what one expects to be asked by a sensei after training. I don't know if it was just me who was surprised because we all replied with a quiet "oss".
He carried on speaking, " we all, me included, sometimes put this", he indicated his belt and gi, " on like an old boiler suit. But, when you feel like giving up, because we all feel like that sometimes, remember the blood, sweat and tears it took for you to get to this level; you don't want that to be for nothing"
I felt that his words had a great deal of truth in them. When he talked about the urge to give up, I could really relate to that. I'd certainly felt it several times during my first 9 months as a 1st dan.
Passing black belt did not bring with it the sense of self-satisfaction and enlightenment that I'd often fantasized about as a kyu grade. Instead, I feel more lost and inexperienced than I ever have done since the first time I walked in to a dojo.
It shows how, as karateka, we are always looking forward and never looking back. Because we are always searching for something better or closer to perfection in training. This is an integral part of karate's beauty. It allows us to study it for a lifetime and really grow to love and understand it. The fact what was said at the end of that course surprised me was, I think, because it contradicted this principle. 'When you feel like giving up, remember the blood, sweat and tears it took to get to this point'. So maybe looking back does have a place in karate. When there's nothing to look forward at, ( that urge to give up), the other thing we can do is look back and, from there, possibly find the strength to carry on.
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