The Martial Musings of an Artist of Life

I Dare You (What Insipres YOU?)

2009-10-06T15:48:00.003-05:00

When I was a little boy, maybe eight years old, my mother gave me a curious little book titled, I Dare You by William H. Danforth. It's a tiny little book, and I still pull it down from the shelf every now and again whenever I need a bit of inspiration. When my mother gave the book to me some 30 years ago, it was already worn out — It even smelled like an old book, so I think she'd had it in her possession for a number of years before passing it on to me. I was an avid reader back then (I still am!), and I read through I Dare You over and over. I never got sick of it. I didn't realize at the time the effect that little book would have on my life.

I was pleased to find today that the book is still in print. Find it here.

Today, I'm a martial arts instructor. But in my martial arts training, I'm playing all-out to get outside of the practice of punching and kicking by studying things like meditation, anger management, and nutrition, and by engaging in community service projects to make the world around me a better place. I'm trying LIKE HELL to transcend the physical aspects of the martial arts — even while I'm teaching all the little specific details that make shorinji-ryu karate so unique. And though I'm pretty sure that I'm not motivated by trophies or new ranks, I'm training for my next belt test like a man possessed. I want to see what I have inside of me.

I'm a writer, too: In the last two weeks, I've written two UBBT Journal entries, I've updated my dojo's Self Defense Resources blog, and I've authored three short articles for Examiner.com.

I guess I'm what you'd call "an expert in my field." This is what I do. I lead by example. I don't expect anyone to keep up with me, and I'm not in competition with anyone. But sometimes I feel like I'm not pushing hard enough, because I don't feel like I've inspired anyone to change their own habits and then help other people to improve their lives.

So today, to my students at Emerald Necklace Martial Arts (and in honor of my Mom, who inspires me), I offer this Dare:

I know that whatever you may be doing at the moment, you can do more. I know that whatever challenge you may be facing in your life, you can overcome it. You are so much more than what you're currently demonstrating.

So show me what you're really capable of! Show me that your interest and commitment to your training goes beyond what you get out of coming to the dojo two or three times a week. Show me — and the rest of the world — that you really do take your training home with you when you step off the mat and take off your gi.

I DARE YOU to feel what giving and contributing can do to your experience of being a genuine martial arts student/leader.

I DARE YOU to stand tall, think tall, smile tall, and live tall.

I DARE YOU to be an Artist of Life.

I Wish I Could Do More

2009-07-29T16:09:00.002-05:00

I've done a lot of amazing things in my life, and still, I wish I could do more.

I'd like to learn a sword art.
I'd like to be more at ease with my yoga and meditation practice.
I'd like to be more conversant in another language.
I'd like to read more books. (Shoot, I'd like to write more books!)
There are UBBT events that I'd like to attend, but I can't get to them.
There's a tournament coming up this fall in Sacramento. And as much as I'd like to be there to support the event, I won't be there.
I wish I could cure my daughter's diabetes. I never went to medical school, so I'm depending on a lot of good people to get that one crossed off my list.
I'd like to go on a month-long backpacking expedition in Peru or Nepal — or both. (And I want to afford college and a comfortable retirement)

I could go on and on. There's so much more I want to learn and experience, but I'm constrained by the realities of time, energy, finances, age, physical limitations, personal choices, and of course, my lovingly upheld obligations to family. Damn!

But then again, so is everyone else.

Every day, we all get the same 24 hours. So no, I'm not making excuses for all the things I've failed to do or accomplish. I'm not feeling sorry for myself, either. Rather, today I'm just facing — perhaps really for the first time — the stark reality that while I know for sure that I can accomplish ANYTHING that I want to do in my life, I can't possibly accomplish EVERYTHING that I want to do.

So some tough choices need to be made.

It's time for me to re-organize and re-prioritize my "big to-do list" based on what I REALLY want. I can do anything I want to do, but I won't get to it all. Because the clock is ticking on my life.

I'm in need of some serious focus. So today I ask myself this: When I'm lying on my death bed (hopefully many, many, many years from now, resting comfortably and content in the company of loved ones who adore me), what will I regret having not done?

Revisiting The Black Belt Traits

2009-07-13T09:38:00.002-05:00

In our dojo, we frequently focus on a list of virtues that I have come to call the "Black Belt Traits." The list is designed to help answer the question, "What qualities and personality characteristics should students from our dojo exemplify in their lives and daily actions?"

A few years back, I assembled the list of Black Belt Traits (respect, compassion, gratitude, patience, integrity, discipline, responsibility) from my own experiences and introspection, plus a number of martial sources, including the samurai code of Bushido, the European feudal knight's code of chivalry, and the leadership principles and core values of the United States Marine Corps. It's not a bad list, but is it a complete one?

I recently participated in an interesting conversation about the classical and modern martial virtues, in which a number of other values and character traits were mentioned. "Honor," "courage," and "right action" were discussed. (There was even an interesting digression about the virtues of "revenge" and "ritual suicide," but the conversation eventually got back on track.)

Opinions were all over the board. But it all got me thinking: There's certainly lots of value in our classical and modern martial virtues, but as modern-day martial artists (i.e., individuals not engaged as professional warriors, living lives in which, generally, the likelihood of facing mortal combat or deadly physical assault is fairly low), might we also add some positive, but decidedly non-martial qualities to our list of the values that we seek to embody?

Today, I'm thinking about "Generosity" and "Kindness."

On Community Activism and the Martial Arts

2009-06-04T08:14:00.003-05:00

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You Can't Push A String!

2009-05-29T11:02:00.002-05:00

On Friday mornings during the school year, I teach an hour-long "enrichment" karate class to a group of 4th and 5th graders at a local elementary school before I head into work for the day. It's usually a fun and rewarding class: I get to do what I love with a great group of enthusiastic and energetic kids. We practice kicks and punches, we talk about martial arts in the movies, we have great conversations about respect and discipline, and I teach a little about karate history and philosophy along the way.

Last week, however, I started to teach a new group, and it was a total nightmare: the kids were inattentive, disrespectful, and noisy from the very beginning. It must have been the nice weather on a Friday before a long weekend, or so I thought. The students' poor behavior spiraled quickly downward to the point that I felt that I could no longer conduct a safe class. I made several attempts to regain control, but I failed each time. So as much as I hated to do it, I retreated to my last resort: I brought the kids back into their classroom, and I directed them to sit down and read silently at their desks for the rest of the period. And at the end of the hour, I left the school feeling defeated and dejected.

Ugh.

So last night I found myself dreading returning to my Friday morning class to endure another frustrating and disappointing experience. While preparing dinner, I sighed and said to my wife, "Man, I just don't know what I'm gonna do with these kids tomorrow."

She simply responded with a smile as she chopped the vegetables for our salad. "Well, dear, you're going to teach them," she said.

And, bam, it hit me:

How ironic was it that I could be confident facing an armed aggressor, and yet be apprehensive about the prospect of engaging a small group of unruly 11-year olds? Had all my years of training taught me nothing? Where was the all fearlessness and determination that I've learned in the dojo? Where had my ability to endure hardship gone? Where was my mastery? Had I lost the desire to help and inspire others with and through my art? No!

So I put on a new attitude on my way to class this morning. I assembled a lesson plan that would engage and amaze even the most unimpressable child. I downed a cup of coffee, and headed off to class full of energy and excitement.

Within the first 5 minutes of class, I got some feedback:

"This is stupid."

"Can we do something else?"

"I don't like karate."

"This is so boring."

Then the side conversations started, followed quickly with fooling around that led to pushing and shoving and posturing among the children. %@*#&! I'd lost the class again!

Once more I stopped teaching, directed the kids back to their desks, and had each of them open a book for silent reading. And then I realized that that's probably exactly what they wanted to do this morning in the first place.

My sensei once told me, "You can't push a string." He's right. No one learns karate or appreciates what it has to offer unless they truly want to. It's something that can't be forced. You can't win 'em all, I guess. But what the heck am I gonna do for next week's class?

The Albert Einstein Theory of Self-Defense

2009-05-12T15:23:00.003-05:00

I received an interesting phone call last night: A gentleman called our dojo to ask how long it would take him to become proficient at self-defense if he were to begin training with us. I resisted the urge to babble on about the history of our art. I didn't want to tout the effectiveness of the techniques that I teach when they are applied to "real-life street situations." And, I also didn't want to give a vague, "well, that depends on a number of factors..." kind of response.

I was curious, so I decided to listen.

"That's a great question," I said. "Can you tell me why you're asking it?"

The answer I got was interesting:

"Well, I just think that the way things are going in the world today, I think it would be a good idea if I learned how to take care of myself."

Hearing this, I asked a few quick probing questions to try to determine if the man on the phone was in any immediate danger. Given my background and experience, I feel an obligation to provide training, information, and resources to anyone in need. Physical safety comes first, before trying to enroll a new student or impress someone with my knowledge and/or personal skills.

But I got the sense that the man on the other end of the phone was not specifically threatened. Rather, he seemed to be feeling pessimistic and increasingly insecure about the world we live in. And who can blame him? There are shootings and muggings in the city every day. People are tense and nervous about the economy and its inevitable effect on civility. The evidence of impending doom is all around us, and it all gets piped into our homes in multimedia, full-color, high-definition — with stereo surround sound to boot.

I told the man that if he was interested in learning about physical self-defense and safety, we could certainly accommodate him. After all, we are a karate school, and we are in the business of teaching blocks and strikes to people of all ages and levels of ability. "But," I told him, "true self-defense is about awareness and avoidance of physical conflict, even if you are very good at punching people in the face."

Even as the words left my mouth, though, I was reminded of a quote often attributed to Albert Einstein, wherein he supposedly stated that the most important decision we make is whether we believe we live in a friendly or hostile universe. The thinking goes that one's answer to that question will determine one's destiny.

So, I then started to talk to the man on the phone about the underlying values of our dojo, and that while we take the study of our art very seriously, we are also committed to changing the world by making positive contributions to it.

"We also practice self-defense by getting involved in our neighborhoods and our communities and by hanging around people that share common values and a desire for peace. I believe that our actions make a difference, and that by taking these positive actions, we ultimately make ourselves — and our families and our communities — happier, and healthier, and safer."

Before he hung up the phone, the gentlemen thanked me, and he told me that he would consider coming in for a trial class.

Some Thoughts on Being a Warrior

2009-04-24T09:08:00.002-05:00

I'm playing with new technology today — and learning, I hope, some new tricks! Isn't this what being a warrior is all about? Facing a new challenge, figuring out how to overcome it, and applying the knowledge that is gained from the experience in a way that serves others?

Dreaming

2009-04-08T10:45:00.003-05:00

Last night I had a strange but very lucid dream in which I was having a conversation with a friend and martial arts mentor of mine about the martial arts, their modern-day relevance, and our search for deeper truth and meaning in the practice of our art. (It's rare that I remember my dreams so vividly, so I thought I'd share this one.)

In the dream, my friend expressed his frustration at the superficial training that I was receiving, which stressed physical application and memorization without tapping into history, culture, and even universal human myth; he also agonized at my training, which, while effective, had no depth, no spirit, and no sense of celebration.

In the dream, my friend broke away from our conversation for a moment to show me some of what he had learned from his latest mentor — it was an unfamiliar (and decidedly non-martial) art with dance-like movements that were full of joy, laughter, love, light-heartedness, music, and expressions of sincere gratitude.

My friend and I then continued our conversation, at which point I told him (in reference to my martial arts training), "I feel like there's no food left on my plate, but I'm still hungry." He didn't respond, but an answer came to me:

When it comes to my budo training, It's time for me to cultivate my own seeds, to grow my own food, and — most importantly — to head deeper into the bush in search of bigger game.

And then — poof — the dream ended, and I woke up feeling unusually refreshed.

Strange, no?

An Oldie, But a Goodie

2009-03-30T11:51:00.002-05:00

Student Creed Essay, from July, 2004:

"I am an Artist of Life."

As karate students, we seek to perfect our physical techniques (and character!) in class through hard training and repetition. In every class we do our best to be a little bit better than we were in the class before, and to learn just a little bit more of our martial art's techniques. But, taking in a much larger view, we can actually consider all of life as our training hall (dojo). From this perspective, we can be more than just martial artists, we can become "Artists of Life." And just like karate training, the only way to get better at Life is to practice, practice, practice!

Our dojo is filled with diverse and talented people! In our jobs, we should seek to be known as dependable, competent, and confident. Ask yourself: Am I the best lawyer/doctor/student/teacher/whatever I can be? Am I doing my BEST to be creative and expressive in and through my profession?

In our relationships, we seek to be considerate, kind, and generous. Are you being the BEST sibling/spouse/parent/son/daughter you can be? We can all get better at laughing, loving, and serving our communities through practice! The "hard training" we have to face in life sometimes comes from challenges, disappointments, and setbacks, but they'll ultimately make us better people!

Ask yourself: What have I learned about my Art (Life) today? How can I make my personal painting/sculpture/kata just a little bit better tomorrow? What will my masterpiece called "Life" look like when it's finished?

"I am responsible for all of my actions, choices, and decisions."

When we accept total responsibility for every aspect of our lives, we gain both freedom and power. However, when we blame others for our personal circumstances, we give that power and freedom away. By listening to our own inner voice, and by doing what is right and true and necessary for us, we free ourselves of the need for others' approval or permission. By living independent of the good opinion of others, and by willingly accepting the consequences of our actions (for better or for worse), we no longer allow external factors to determine our happiness.

Accepting responsibility does not mean that life's unfortunate or unlucky events are automatically our fault. Unexpected problems will continually show up in our lives, but we are "response-able," and ALWAYS in control of our attitude. Whenever we are faced with surprises, hardships, and challenges (read, "opportunities"), we can always CHOOSE how we're going to respond. And, whenever we make mistakes, we should resolve to own them completely without shifting the blame to something or someone outside of ourselves. (Of course, all of this is not as easy as it sounds! If it were, everyone would be doing it!)

If you are suddenly threatened on the street, an "instinctive reaction" (fear, panic, freezing up, flight, rage) might be inappropriate or potentially dangerous. Instead of reacting, however, an individual with sufficient awareness and presence of mind can confidently choose from a variety of "trained responses" (avoidance, de-escalation, measured physical countermeasures). This is where martial arts training can help by giving us more options. Through physical and mental training and conditioning, we become increasingly "response-able."

Our lives are the sum total of all of our thoughts and actions. Motivational speaker Brian Tracy has said, "Thoughts are causes; conditions are effects." By staying positive and by taking responsibility for the quality of our thoughts, we'll remain squarely in the driver's seat of our lives! I'll close this section with an expression that Sensei Richard Kim was very fond of:

Watch your thoughts, they become your words.
Watch your words, they become your actions.
Watch your actions, they become your habits.
Watch your habits, they become your character.
Watch your character, it becomes your destiny.

"My goal is to be the best I can be, and to bring out the best in others."

So now we understand that striving to be the best we can possibly be in every area of our lives is the sure path to becoming an Artist of Life. But, if we're always just trying to be number one, our lives will quickly be reduced to a struggle in which there must always be a winner and a loser. I believe it was Genghis Khan who said, "It is not enough that I succeed. Others must fail." Not so! As martial artists, instead of simply pumping up our own egos and working on our own superiority, we must efface the ego while also seeking to bring out the best in other people. As I have become fond of saying lately, "We're all in this together!"

So how can we bring out the best in others?

Avoid unnecessary conflict. In your daily interactions with people, try to always look for the "win-win" solution by focusing on unselfishness and committing to service. (Read Stephen Covey's The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.) Before forcing your own agenda and opinions onto others, increase your awareness of what's really important to them, and make sure you understand their perspective. Whenever you can work together with someone toward a mutually beneficial outcome, instead of struggling against them, you'll often find that one plus one equals three (or four, or ten)!

If you look for the best in other people, you'll almost always find it. (If you look for the worst in other people, you'll certainly find that instead.) In your relationships, don't focus on the things in other people that annoy you. Instead, focus on the things you love about other people! Acknowledge all the things that are right before you give constructive criticism. Freely give out compliments and support -- but don't patronize!

Sometimes competition is necessary. Every day, we compete in athletics, politics, business, and love. Healthy competition brings out the best in all of us, so always play your hardest! However, be aware of your motivations, and decide what's really important by asking: What will I have left if I choose to win at all costs? Bring the Olympic spirit into your everyday struggles, great and small. Seek out only worthy opponents who will raise the level of play and challenge you to be your best. Remember: blow-outs are boring, and our trivial victories diminish us as much as our Pyrrhic ones. Win with humility, lose with grace, and learn to recognize when it's time to call it a draw. (And, sometimes it's okay to let the other guy win!)

Finally, in the conduct of your life, you can bring out the best in others through your own attitude and personal behavior. Others will be drawn to your personal example if you live your life on purpose and with integrity. By exercising and demonstrating the Black Belt Traits, we can inspire others to greatness!

Seeking honesty in my heart, confidence in my mind, and strength in my body, I will train with respect, humility, and an indomitable spirit.

Ask yourself: “Why am I learning karate?” Some people come to the dojo to learn self-defense. Others come to relieve stress, get in better shape, learn a new art form, or meet new people. What are your personal training goals? If you’re seeking improved fitness, increased confidence, and stronger mental discipline, karate training will develop all of these things! I’ve always said that karate is a journey of self-discovery. So, if karate is a journey — and if some of the benefits I’ve mentioned are the destinations — then what should you pack for the trip?

Indomitable spirit!

Sooner or later, you’re going to a few bumps in the road, and your karate training will bring you face-to-face with one or more of your personal limitations. (Perhaps it’s happened already!) The bumps in your personal karate journey may be the physical limits of your strength, endurance, flexibility, or coordination. A nagging injury may force you to slow down, modify your techniques, or skip a class or two. Your bumps may also be mental obstacles that become manifest as impatience at your lack of improvement, frustration at your inability to master a form, or even boredom from the seemingly endless repetition. The bumps that show up outside of the dojo (stress at work, strained personal relationships, laundry, and all the other things that make up our lives) may also prevent us from getting to the dojo to train for days or weeks.

In the course of your training, the bumps you encounter in the dojo and in life will frustrate you again and again. They may cause you to question why you started karate training (or piano lessons, or medical school) in the first place. If the bump is big enough, you might even be tempted to quit. (I’ve come close to quitting karate many times myself!) The key to getting past the bumps in your training is to train with indomitable spirit!

Indomitable spirit is a combination of inner strength and commitment. It’s what keeps the last-place marathon runner going until she crosses the finish line, long after the crowds have gone home. Indomitable spirit is confidence and a winning attitude. It’s what brought the New England Patriots down the field for the final score in their amazing come-from-behind Super Bowl victory. Indomitable spirit is infinite patience, perhaps best demonstrated by Mother Nature: It’s how the Colorado River carved out the Grand Canyon!

It’s your enthusiasm and dedication that will take you all the way to Black Belt and beyond. If you never quit, you'll never fail! With indomitable sprit, we can press on when things get difficult for us. Keep in mind that our potential is always greater than our performance, and displaying indomitable spirit does not always mean trying harder or pushing yourself past exhaustion. There will be many disappointments on your journey, so relax, humbly trust in the process of your training, and draw on the energy of others whenever you’re tired or frustrated. And, be sure to give your energy and encouragement away when you sense that someone else could use a lift!

The moment that you really want to quit is exactly when you’re about to learn something new about yourself. Endeavor! Persevere! Grow and learn! Rest if you must, and respect your limits, but don’t ever give up on your goals!

We Are a Black Belt School — A Community Striving for Personal Excellence!

What does it mean to be a Black Belt?

Beyond knowledge of the physical requirements listed on the grading sheet, and a few years of dedicated training, a Black Belt should be someone who embodies the Black Belt traits and commits to high personal standards. Black Belt Excellence means consistently demonstrating technical proficiency, superior attitude, and indomitable spirit. An ideal Black Belt is both a leader and a role model — she is someone to emulate. But what about outside the dojo? What does a Black Belt do when he’s stuck in traffic and late for work? How does a Black Belt respond when the kids track mud all over the house?

What do we mean when we say that we are a Black Belt School?

Our dojo is a community that has come together for a common purpose, and the Black Belt is the universal standard of performance which we all strive to achieve. Regardless of our individual belt ranks, we are committed to our Core Values, the ideals of the Black Belt, and each other. The rank of Black Belt is not the end of the martial arts road. In fact, earning a Black Belt is a sign that you are now ready to BEGIN your training. (Note that "Shodan" means "first step" in Japanese.) When we say that we are a Black Belt School, we’re affirming that we’ll always remain humble even as our skills increase.

What would the martial arts be without the Black Belt?

In the dojo, it seems as though we’re always working toward something. Would the dojo be the same without objective standards of excellence, a ranking system, and common goals and values? Of course not! It would simply be a gym! The ranks we earn reward us for all our hard work. They motivate us to improve, help us to track our progress, and let us know where we stand relative to our classmates. But, at some point we must move beyond the trappings of rank and status, and enjoy the art for its own sake. We're all on the same path, but each person's journey is unique.

Although some martial arts schools place gold or red stripes on the Black Belt for each dan rank that is achieved, no additional external recognition is given after Shodan in our school. Thus, there is no immediate difference in appearance between a first degree Black Belt and a fifth degree Black Belt, although there can be more than 20 years of experience and dedication that separate the two.

The clothes you wear, car you drive, and the house you live in can all be viewed as external signs of your status in life. Always remember that a cotton belt around your waist does not define who you are, no matter what color it is. Keep your beginner’s mind, and forget about the belt that’s around your waist — we are a Black Belt School! Ultimately, your Black Belt gets its deeper value and personal meaning from just a few sources: your esteem for the person and the organization awarding your rank, the people with whom you train to earn your Black Belt, the depth to which your training influences your character (martial virtue), and the amount of individual effort, dedication, and sacrifice that you put in.

What color belt do you wear on the inside?

Kaizen!

The Japanese word "kaizen" means constant and continuous improvement. The key aspect of kaizen is that it is an on-going, never-ending, incremental improvement process. It's a soft and gradual method, and to follow it requires commitment and patience. The key elements of kaizen are sincere effort, discipline, enthusiasm, teamwork, honesty, and a willingness to change. Thus, the kaizen philosophy is a perfect approach to martial arts training.

I like to compare the process of karate training to that of gradually turning a cube into a sphere by cutting off the corners. Every time we cut off a corner of the cube, it begins to take on a rounder shape. However, to make each cut, we must create three more corners in the process: They too will need to be cut, sanded, and polished. This is the only example I can think of in which cutting corners is acceptable! But, as Sensei Hidy Ochiai, a genuine karate master who teaches in Binghamton, New York, once said to me, "Life is short; Art is long."
The philosophy of kaizen, like everything else discussed in this essay, extends beyond the walls of the dojo. In our lives, there is always room for improvement and continuously trying to become better. Every aspect of our life — our personal life, home life, social life, and working life — deserves to be constantly improved! This is how we can become an Artist of Life. And so, this essay has come full circle. I'll close with another quote from Sensei Richard Kim. He uttered the following mantra in virtually every lecture of his that I attended:

"Every day in every way, I'm getting better, better, better."

How Are You Growing?

2009-02-27T16:21:00.003-05:00

Spring is coming.

Flower buds are starting to come up through the soil. Soon, they'll be in bloom.

I once read that the biggest difference between a flower that's alive and a flower that is dead is that the flower that is alive is GROWING, and that the one that is dead isn't growing. Simple, no?

So, aside from the myriad details of your metabolism and the rate at which your skin cells get replaced each day, how are YOU growing — physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally?

We martial artists have a simple and accessible answer — theoretically, anyway: following the budo, we train constantly, so our physical bodies are always adapting and growing. For our mental growth, learning new techniques, memorizing the patterns of kata, or studying martial arts history or philosophy stimulates our minds and expands our knowledge. Our brains literally grow new connections to make sense of all the information we take in. Pushing outside of our comfort zones, and endeavoring to develop a warrior's mindset polishes and grows our spirit. By training with others, and by facing our own limitations again and again, we come to recognize and appreciate the fragility of the human condition. This fosters within us a sense of compassion. Our hearts grow.

But let us not limit our "growth" to what I affectionately call the "white pajama world" inside the walls of our dojo. If our budo training is going to mean anything in our everyday lives outside the training hall, then growth should happen outside the dojo, too. As my UBBT coach Tom Callos is fond of saying, "My life is my dojo."

What are you doing to grow physically between karate classes? Are you walking or jogging regularly? Stretching, or engaging in cross training — or some other form of exercise?

For your mental development (and balance), what books are you reading besides books on the marital arts? Are you involved in a non-martial hobby? Who are you hanging out with? Have you ever done a sudoku puzzle? (This last one is just an example ... I have never done sudoku. Tried it once. It hurt.)

Spiritually, do you regularly find time for meditation, silence, and stillness? A little quiet contemplation goes a long way: I recommend that you sit and ask yourself one big question a day: Who am I? Why am I here? Where did I come from? Where am I going? If the biggest question you ask yourself each day is something akin to "What am I going to have for lunch?" then I suggest that you have some work to do!

Here's a tough question: How do YOU grow your heart? Help others. Serve more. Listen more. Give a compliment. Withhold a criticism. Over-tip. Dance. Make that donation you've been putting off. Call your mom and thank her. Imagine. Better yet, play – and don't keep score.

And I want to be clear: my definition of "growth" goes beyond acquisition of talent, skill, stuff, or information. That's "getting," not "growing." To me, growing involves collection, absorption, study, embodiment, application, and opening yourself up to feedback. A growing flower does not measure itself against some flower standard of perfection, or against the flower next door. It just reaches toward the sun... and attracts the bee.

Growth (inside and outside of the dojo) requires curiosity, humility, desire, and maybe even a sense of adventure. And patience, too. Information absorbed becomes knowledge. Knowledge applied becomes power. Power shared becomes wisdom.

Or … something like that. Yikes... Perhaps I've started to babble a bit.

Enough reading — get out there and grow. Stretch. And don't forget to stop and smell the flowers every once in a while!

Don't Just Do Something, Sit There!

2009-02-06T16:10:00.001-05:00

As part of my New Year's resolutions, I've taken up the study and practice of regular meditation. I'm serious this time — really! Accordingly, I went out back in January and dutifully purchased a few books and CDs on meditation — and I dove right in. [splash]

All the books on meditation come with some simple, basic instructions:

Step 1: Find a quiet place to sit.
Step 2: Sit comfortably but not rigid
Step 3: Pay attention to your breath, and let any distracting thoughts go without attachment
Step 4: Repeat — regularly!

After a month of mostly-steady practice, I thought I'd share some of my observations of the battle I've been waging inside my head:

Finding 10-15 minutes of peace and quiet each day is proving to be much harder than I thought it would be. I can't possibly be that busy, can I? Clearly my priorities are way out of whack! I got 10 minutes of meditation in today, only because I consciously decided to be 10 minutes late to work. And finding 20 minutes to sit there and do nothing? Ha!

Reading about meditation is not meditation.

Thinking about meditation is not meditation.

Trying to meditate is not the same thing as actually meditating.

Only meditating is meditating, and I'm finding that sitting there doing nothing is damn hard work. Is it possible that I can be beaten so handily by a tiny little cushion?

I'm my own worst enemy! Somehow, I've procrastinated, delayed, and otherwise avoided my meditating sessions by searching for all the perfect meditation equipment. Candles, incense, and soft music are nice, but not necessary. Neither are statues, gongs, or even a nice soft cushion for your butt.

And sitting with a comfortable posture? Impossible! I watch my daughter in amazement as she sits ramrod straight with the royal ease of Kuan Yin. Yeah, a few minutes of that and I'm more than a little uncomfortable. One more reason, my mind says, to give this whole thing up.

But I'm not giving up. No way: My mind has no idea how stubborn I am.

Oneness, Irony, and Contradiction

2009-01-23T14:04:00.001-05:00

Quick funny story:

On my lunch break this afternoon, I ran over to the local bookstore to pick up a copy of Shambhala Sun magazine to replace the one I'd lost — I hadn't finished reading a particular section on improving one's meditation practice before it disappeared, and I wanted to finish the articles to help keep up my motivation to sit more regularly.

As it turns out the issue I was looking to replace wasn't on the newsstand. But, lured in by an article entitled "Peace on the Street," and another, "Procession of Peace, " I ended up grabbing a copy of Tricycle magazine instead. ("No, I'm not a Buddhist, but I play one on TV...")

And since I was in the bookstore anyway, I then wandered over to the martial arts section, where I stumbled upon "Mediations on Violence," a new book that compares martial arts training with the dynamics of real-world violence. Oh, how could I resist?

With my contradictions in hand, I blissfully headed to the register.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

2009-01-06T12:05:00.001-05:00

I've always said that as modern martial artists, we need to study, discuss, embrace, and embody the values of classical warrior cultures. These values — martial virtues — include respect, compassion, gratitude, patience, integrity, discipline, responsibility, loyalty, courage, commitment, and honor. That's not an all-inclusive list, but it's a good start.

Well, I recently sat at the foot of a master, and learned a great deal about RESPECT. So I thought I'd share some observations here.

The funny thing about learning from "the masters" is that you almost never really know when you're going to run into one. The master I met recently is named Niyi Taiwo, and we bumped into each other (literally) when I attended a local breakfast-time business advisory board meeting. I was juggling a cup of coffee and a plate of cut fruit at the time — it could have been a disaster!

After apologies, introductions, and the requisite polite chit chat, I learned that Mr. Taiwo has spent a great deal of time studying the subject of respect. In fact, he wrote an entire book about it. As the keynote speaker at the meeting, Mr. Taiwo offered a summary of his writings. I took notes:

According to Mr. Taiwo, there are 3 basic kinds of respect. Human respect is our basic sense of self-respect that is bestowed upon us by our parents, teachers and role models. It is also our valuation of others, based on what we have learned about fundamental human value from our parents, teachers, and role models. Positional respect comes from the various roles we play and the titles we hold — across all dimensions of our life. Earned respect is based on other's perceptions of our actual actions, words and associations.

How much respect we give to or receive from another person influenced by each individual's unique value system, and our personal value systems are shaped by a number of factors, including (1) our spiritual belief system, (2) our ethnic culture, (3) our family traditions and generational habits, (4) our own moral code and sense of right and wrong, (5) etiquette, protocol, and manners, and (6) learned standards of acceptance.

The challenge with respect is that with all the inter- and intrapersonal dynamics involved in living a human life, and with all of the unique events that we each experience and interpret, it's impossible for us to all have the exact same value system. So how we go about giving, gaining, and sustaining respect can be a tricky thing. What one person or group values or esteems, another may disregard, despise, or even fear.

Gichin Funakoshi, known as the founder of modern karate, said, "Never forget that karate begins and ends with respect." As martial artists, what do we respect? A good side kick? A nice horse stance? The beginner? The master? Why do we respect someone who moves with power, speed, and grace, or the particular color of a belt that's wrapped around someone's waist? How do we esteem dedication, humility, and quiet confidence? What about the willingness to try new things and fail?

Some questions to ask yourself: What or whom do you respect? Why? Do others outside of your "tribe" of family and social circle feel the same way? Why or why not? Who's right? Who's wrong? And how do you know?

Coffee Talk

2008-11-12T10:49:00.003-05:00

The other day, I stopped in at the local coffee shop where I bumped into the owner of the local mixed martial arts studio. We've met once or twice before, and our respective martial arts studios are about a two-minute walk apart from one another. But in truth, they couldn't be further apart.

He ordered a protein supplement drink; I ordered a chai tea. While we waited for our drinks, I tried to strike up a conversation by asking him how things were going at his studio.

"Great," he responded. "I think I've got one of my guys a slot in the UFC. We're just nailing down all the final details for his fight."

He was swelling with pride, and I congratulated him for his student's accomplishment. He then asked what I was up to.

"Things are great at our dojo, too," I said. "One of my students is in the middle of a community service project to deliver hand-made winter clothes to needy city kids, and I just wrapped up a diabetes awareness and prevention training class for at-risk youth at the local grade school."

I must admit that I was swelling with pride, too.

Immediately thereafter, though, our conversation sputtered, and died a decidedly ungraceful death. Never in the history of the world, I think, did two extremely passionate martial artists have less to say to one another!

The Service-Oriented Dojo

2008-10-10T10:45:00.010-05:00

In 1998, I was serving aboard the U.S.S. Wasp as part of the 26th Marine Expeditionary Unit on a deployment in the Mediterranean Sea. We had just completed combat operations in Bosnia and port calls in Spain, Turkey, and Greece. Halfway through our six-month deployment, I had visited parts of the world that I never expected to see.

Being away from home was tough, but I believed that I was living the life of a modern warrior: I was a Marine captain in charge of a 25-person detachment and responsible for millions of dollars' worth of vehicles and sensitive equipment. We had been given an important intelligence-collecting mission, and shipboard life was exciting because our daily operations put us in real danger. Physically, I was in amazing shape. I was good at my job, and I loved it.

As a Marine, I had to understand classical and modern combat tactics and strategies, including battlefield logistics, the principles for deploying troops, the strengths and limitations of various weapons systems, the effects of terrain and weather on operations, and more. I spent a lot of time studying leadership traits and principles and working on my own professional military education.

My lifelong study of the Japanese martial arts, particularly karate, had influenced my concept of what a warrior should be. Naturally, I had read Sun Tzu's The Art of War, Miyamoto Musashi's The Book of Five Rings, and other ancient texts on warfare and fighting. My understanding of bushido affected my way of thinking and acting. I thought of myself as a kind of modern samurai, and I swelled with the pride of serving my country.

As busy as the deployment was, shipboard life provided me with ample time for reading, deep thinking, and introspection. I became obsessed with learning all I could about warriors and warriorship. My martial arts reading included books by the budo masters of the 20th century — men who emphasized the value of the martial arts beyond their physical applications. Gichin Funakoshi taught that the true aim of karate is the perfection of character; Jigoro Kano emphasized judo as a path of service and contribution; and Morihei Ueshiba focused on matters of spirit, expressing his love for all of humanity through aikido.

The works of anthropologists and sociologists taught me a great deal about the archetypal warrior. My personal definition of a warrior expanded beyond combatants and fighting to include those courageous, inspired, and disciplined individuals who dared to live an authentic life. Sun Tzu and Miyamoto Musashi were warriors, but in a broader sense, so were contemporary figures Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Mother Teresa, and Mahatma Gandhi. I discovered that warriors lacking martial prowess could still "fight" by taking committed action for equality, justice, and social change. You won't find this kind of thinking in any Marine Corps manual!

While at sea, I knew that I was doing meaningful work. I was living the life of a warrior. But the more I read, the more I realized that very little — if any — of my Marine training had touched upon the "softer" warrior qualities of mercy, gentleness, and generosity that I found myself reading more and more about. I felt out of balance, and deep inside I knew that a warrior's life — the kind of life that I really wanted to live, anyway — had to be something beyond what I was experiencing as a Marine. The tension between opposite aspects of the warrior archetype — the fierce combatant and the compassionate servant leader — was increasing within me, and soon enough, I was miserable.

I felt particularly melancholy about not being able to spend more time studying and practicing martial arts. Something had permanently shifted inside me. Stuck aboard ship, I realized that I deeply needed to follow a more meaningful warrior's path. Finally, one evening — as I sat on the Wasp's flight deck watching the sun set over the Greek islands — I decided that being a Marine wasn't what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

A journal entry I made around that time reflected my true passions and goals:

"I want to open a martial arts school that focuses on character and community. I want to create an organization that can spread budo, assist the community, and create and provide role models. I also want to leave a mark that shows that I sought to be a part of something greater than myself, that I strove to achieve something worthwhile and inherently good. I'd like to touch other lives and share the martial experience with other people."

Shortly after we had returned to the States, I told my Marines that I would be leaving the Marine Corps. I intended to eventually open my own karate dojo so that I could serve the world in a much broader sense. I'm not entirely sure they understood me.

Today, I am the Chief Instructor at Emerald Necklace Martial Arts, the dojo I established in Boston in 2003. The dojo is built on a solid foundation of sweat, effort, and serious intent. I demand a lot from my students, and we cherish our warrior heritage. We train hard, and the physical training we experience together forms part of our common bond.

Teaching students to defend themselves is a responsibility that I take very seriously. As an instructor, I feel it is my duty to accurately and passionately transfer the knowledge of kata and techniques that my teachers have given to me. Physical mastery is a worthy goal for any martial artist, but technical and tactical proficiency is a must for any Black Belt! If push ever comes to shove, I'm confident that when properly applied, the techniques we learn and practice on the mat will work "out on the street."

An understanding of martial arts history and philosophy gives us sorely needed perspective, balance, and wisdom. So in addition to all of the physical training that happens at the dojo, we study hard, too. I ask my students to complete various reading and writing assignments as they progress through the ranks to help develop their character and their appreciation of the martial virtues of respect, loyalty, and gratitude.

But I believe that to be truly relevant in modern times, the martial arts — and the artists who practice them — must transcend physical "self-defense." We must also go beyond book learning and academic knowledge of important karate names, dates, and places. I am called to inspire my students to think differently, to discover their own talents, and then to use those talents to engage and serve the world in a positive way.

For this reason, community service has become part of my dojo's DNA. My students conceive of, plan, and lead their own service projects to earn their karate belts. This project-based approach to rank testing provides my students with opportunities for personal development by building their leadership skills and confidence and by stretching their ability to organize and communicate. Any mistakes they make while testing in the supportive atmosphere of the dojo are part of the learning process.

The projects that my students choose connect their karate training to their world, their life, and the things that they consider important. Our collective portfolio of good deeds includes local park cleanups, fundraisers, food drives, housing builds, and benefit concerts. A few of our projects have been far-reaching: In 2007, we sent 1,000 origami cranes to Hiroshima, Japan, in the name of peace, and more recently, we helped with a translation project to benefit girls and women in Kenya and Nairobi. We are having a positive impact on the world!

Ten years after my overseas deployment, the service-oriented dojo that I envisioned has become a reality. The dojo has become a community that serves the community, and it provides a unique, structured environment — outside of the home, place of worship, and workplace — in which people can connect with one another, form new relationships, share ideas, and creatively express themselves. We engage in rigorous self-defense training several nights each week, but by and large, no one in the dojo is training for a real physical fight. Indeed, the dojo members form a group of warriors that is much different from the Marines I served with 10 years ago! But like the Marines, we are doing important work — and we are making a difference. And I truly believe that we are fulfilling the vision that the budo masters had for the martial arts.

It has become my mission to do something honorable with all of my accumulated martial arts knowledge and experience — something that goes beyond my function as a link in the chain of teachers and students and students who become teachers. The measure of whether or not I have been successful will have nothing to do with how good my side kick is or how many trophies sit in my dojo's window. If my students simply earn a reputation for powerfully serving the community, that will be enough.

Finding the Courage to Lay Low

2008-08-13T10:05:00.005-05:00

I, like many people this week, spent some time trying to make sense of the recent outbreak of violence between Georgia and Russia. While doing so, I pulled out a topographical map of the region to get a better feel of the area's geography, and I discovered that Georgia is a lowland country surrounded by mountains. Observing the mountainous area, and the relative sizes of the two nations in question, I was immediately reminded of the advice of the sage Lao Tzu:

A great country is like a lowland,
Toward which all streams flow.
It is the reservoir of all under heaven,
The feminine of the world.
The female overcomes the male with stillness,
By lowering herself through her quietness.

So if a great country lowers itself before a small one,
It wins friendship and trust.
And if a small country can lower itself before a great one,
It will win over that "great" country.
The one wins by stooping;
The other, by remaining low.
— Tao Te Ching, 61

In the news this morning, I receive the wave of reports of troop movements and bombings as well as all the posturing, fault finding, tough talk, accusations, and finger pointing among the leaders of Georgia and Russia. At the same time, the papers and news websites are closely examining the reactions of our own president and presidential candidates, labeling them as "milquetoast," "bellicose," and "measured."

I'm left to wonder, can Georgia, the small country, lower itself before Russia, the great one? Can Russia, the great country, find a way to do the same? I read "lowering" in Lao Tzu's passage to mean remaining still and observing situations with humility, awareness, and compassion. An image comes to mind of bending down to listen to the wisdom that's inherent in a blade of grass. And that requires silence. And discipline, too. And perhaps even a willingness to appear vulnerable.

Might these two nations — one great and one small — benefit by following the advice to lay low? Of course. And in our own personal conflicts, can we summon the will to resist the urge to attack or to counter? Can we find a way embrace the feminine, and win by stooping? I think so.

But that's a much harder thing to do than fighting, it seems.

Beware of the Dream Killers

2008-05-08T09:24:00.009-05:00

I recently sat down to catch up with a long time mentor and friend of mine, who asked about some of the things I've been working on. Particularly, he asked about my dojo, and about my plans to expand it by growing our membership and moving into a larger, more expensive training space.

My friend was sincerely curious; He has always given me sound advice. I rely on him because I know he's always got my best interests in mind. But during our conversation, I got the uncomfortable sense that he was hoping that I'd back off just a bit from my ambitious goals. He didn't say these words, but during our conversation I could hear, "Come on, man. Be reasonable. The risk is big, the payoff uncertain, and you've got your career and family to think about... Why don't you just play it safe?"

My dear friend, I hear you. Thank you for your genuine concerns.

My dear friend, I hear you. I promise that I won't do anything (too) rash. I'll develop reasonable plans and strategies as I move forward. I'll be careful, but I can't play it safe. I know there are no guarantees. But I also know that this is something I have to do. It's a calling. I don't expect you to understand.

Move forward I will. Becuase to not move forward would be to deny my own heart. To not move forward would crush my spirit. (Just imagine asking DaVinci not to create!)

My dear friend, I hear you. But I'm listening to my heart today, and not (entirely) to you. Today, I'm playing "all out."

So please, I ask, with all the love I can muster: Get behind me, or get out of the way.

If a picture is worth 1,000 words...

2008-05-01T12:31:00.004-05:00

If a picture is worth 1,000 words, then how much is ACTION worth?

Out of the Dojo from Speaking of Faith on Vimeo.

I believe that the martial arts have the power to transform us.

This particular video really resonates with me — it's from Mr. Tom Callos, my mentor and UBBT coach. Like Tom, I believe that the martial arts are more than just knife hand chops. (Don't they need to be?)

But, as I said in my last post, this is only true if we make it so through our words, thinking, and acting. The martial arts have the power to transform us, but only if we're actively — and constantly — looking for the "other" lessons in every class, every repetition, every kata, every bow, every injury, and every sparring match.

And I'll go even further here: if we don't FIND the powerful life lessons inherent in our martial arts training, then might we dare have the courage to CREATE new, original, and meaningful lessons and experiences by taking the essence of our martial arts training and applying it in our daily lives?

Wow, if we could do that, then we really would be "martial ARTISTS," wouldn't we? That's what I think Sensei Richard Kim meant when he talked about becoming an "Artist of Life."

This is becoming the focus of my martial arts training and — for whatever it may be worth — my martial arts teaching, too.

Some Day It Will All Be Over

2008-03-14T11:43:00.002-05:00

I do karate. I've been doing it for years and years. THANKS, MOM, for enrolling me in that first class back when I was six or seven.

But some day, it will all be over. I'll take off my gi and black belt for the last time, and collapse into the rocking chair on the porch — with a knowing smile on my face. Thinking back on my martial arts journey, perhaps flipping through an old photo album, I'll remember all the years of tough training, belt examinations, and tournaments. The long trips, triumphs, defeats, and injuries, too. Ahh, the good ol' days...

But more than any of that, I'll remember my friends — my teachers, dojo mates, and students — who took the journey with me, and helped me to grow.

The martial arts are more than just knife hand chops. Everybody knows that. But it's only "really" true if we make it so through our words, thinking, and acting. The martial arts have the power to transform us, but only if we're actively — and constantly — looking for the "other" lessons. I've come to realize that it doesn't really matter what you "do." It's about what you do WITH what you do that matters.

I do karate. Your particular vehicle could be yoga, or African dance, or music, or golf, NASCAR, basket weaving, or ... whatever. I've come to realize that in the end, it doesn't really matter what we're doing — if we seek deeper meaning, value, contribution, and transformation, we will eventually find it. So, where does "your thing" take you?

Today, I can't help but wonder, "What is my 'karate legacy' going to be?" While I've certainly thrown a lot of kicks and punches, the story doesn't end there. (Actually, the story only starts with the physical stuff... it loses its importance eventually!) Karate has connected me to community, to teamwork, to self-knowledge, to making a difference in the world and in people's lives.

I do karate. But, when I'm done with all of this... When I've thrown that last roundhouse kick… When I finally bow into the Big Dojo In The Sky... What will it all MEAN? Will people remember me for my kata performances, board breaking ability, or my side kick?

Geez, I really hope not.

Purpose, Goals, and Indomitable Spirit

2007-11-30T15:29:00.000-05:00

This blog entry is an excerpt from an essay I wrote a while back (2004), but it's worth another look! Enjoy!

Ask yourself: “Why am I learning karate?” Some people come to the dojo to learn self-defense. Others come to relieve stress, get in better shape, learn a new art form, or meet new people. What are your personal training goals? If you’re seeking improved fitness, increased confidence, and stronger mental discipline, karate training will develop all of these things! I’ve always said that karate is a journey of self-discovery. So, if karate is a journey — and if some of the benefits I’ve mentioned are the destinations — then what should you pack for the trip?

Indomitable spirit!

Sooner or later, you’re going to a few bumps in the road, and your karate training will bring you face-to-face with one or more of your personal limitations. (Perhaps it’s happened already!) The bumps in your personal karate journey may be the physical limits of your strength, endurance, flexibility, or coordination. A nagging injury may force you to slow down, modify your techniques, or skip a class or two. Your bumps may also be mental obstacles that become manifest as impatience at your lack of improvement, frustration at your inability to master a form, or even boredom from the seemingly endless repetition. The bumps that show up outside of the dojo (stress at work, strained personal relationships, laundry, and all the other things that make up our lives) may also prevent us from getting to the dojo to train for days or weeks.

In the course of your training, the bumps you encounter in the dojo and in life will frustrate you again and again. They may cause you to question why you started karate training (or piano lessons, or medical school) in the first place. If the bump is big enough, you might even be tempted to quit. (I’ve come close to quitting karate many times myself!) The key to getting past the bumps in your training is to train with indomitable spirit!

Indomitable spirit is a combination of inner strength and commitment. It’s what keeps the last-place marathon runner going until she crosses the finish line, long after the crowds have gone home. Indomitable spirit is confidence and a winning attitude. It’s what brought the New England Patriots down the field for the final score in their amazing come-from-behind Super Bowl victory. Indomitable spirit is infinite patience, perhaps best demonstrated by Mother Nature: It’s how the Colorado River carved out the Grand Canyon!

It’s your enthusiasm and dedication that will take you all the way to Black Belt and beyond. If you never quit, you'll never fail! With indomitable sprit, we can press on when things get difficult for us. Keep in mind that our potential is always greater than our performance, and displaying indomitable spirit does not always mean trying harder or pushing yourself past exhaustion. There will be many disappointments on your journey, so relax, humbly trust in the process of your training, and draw on the energy of others whenever you’re tired or frustrated. And, be sure to give your energy and encouragement away when you sense that someone else could use a lift!

The moment that you really want to quit is exactly when you’re about to learn something new about yourself. Endeavor! Persevere! Grow and learn! Rest if you must, and respect your limits, but don’t ever give up on your goals!

Learning to Punch Like a Girl

2007-08-28T05:50:00.000-05:00

On any given night at Emerald Necklace Martial Arts in Boston’s Allston neighborhood, the adult students can be found in their crisp white karate uniforms, moving up and down the training floor. In summer's brutal heat and in winter's bitter cold, they punch the focus mitts and kick the padded shields with impressive force. Working in pairs, they throw each other to the ground. They yell a lot, too.

Seriousness fills the air as people strain and sweat. The students are disciplined, and they’re growing evermore capable and confident. They really push themselves. And they’re tough. Every once in a while, someone gets hurt. It's never anything severe — perhaps a bruise, a minor sprain, or a rougher-than-expected landing on the padded floor. It’s this element of real danger that keeps everyone focused and fully in the present. But things aren’t too serious: the heavy mood is broken frequently with smiles and laughter.

These are my students, and I’m proud of the progress they are making. On the surface, this looks exactly what you'd expect to see in any urban dojo (training hall) where traditional karate is taught and practiced. However, there's just one thing that jumps out at you while watching a class at Emerald Necklace Martial Arts:

Fully two-thirds of the members who train at this dojo are women.

This, by any standard, is unusual. Men — and all too often, the male ego that tends to come along for the ride — seem to dominate most karate schools. I asked my students why they thought things were different at our school, and what keeps them coming back.

"I think a lot of women start training in the martial arts for the self-defense aspect," Said Angela D., a Brown Belt at the dojo. Angela has been training for nearly four years. "But there is also a mental toughness that develops from studying karate — not giving up, trying one more time, nothing is impossible. There are still barriers and stereotypes for women to face in the real world, and I for one appreciate learning to be more assertive and determined."

"I see what the advanced students do, and I think, 'I want to do that,'" says Jen V. a Green Belt student. Jen has been training at the dojo for two and a half years. "The group of people in the dojo is really a big reason I keep coming back. Each and every person involved with the dojo is an interesting, well-rounded, fascinating individual. I consider myself lucky to be part of such a group, and I value it highly."

"I think I am more confident in certain areas of my life now," Jen continues. "I don't necessarily walk down any dark alleys, and I don't think I was fearful before, but my attitude is different now when I walk to my car in a parking lot."

"One of the aspects that I enjoy the most about the martial arts is that gender plays no role." Says Joe P., a male Brown Belt at the dojo. "If we're doing things the right way, we should not be using upper body strength to perform our moves. We're supposed to rely on proper technique, which can be as easily achieved by women as men."

"Working with women has changed my preconception of the art, as I always thought that only men were drawn to it." Joe says. "I don't really look at my dojo mates as men and women, but as fellow practitioners."

Outside the dojo, Angela is a graphic designer and mother of two. Jen is a librarian. But you’d never guess their real identities by watching the two of them work out on the dojo floor. (Joe, incidentally, works in real estate finance.) Everyone goes through the same training, regardless of gender, and the criteria for rank advancement are the same for men and women. While self-defense is a big part of what’s taught, our dojo focuses on building character and serving others in an environment of mutual respect. The men in the dojo don’t treat the women any differently — and the opposite is also true!

As for me, I’m really looking forward to the day when someone observes one of my male students and says, "Man, he sure hits like a girl." What a great compliment that will be!

In Defense of Karate (or any other martial art) as a "Fighting Art"

2007-07-24T15:49:00.000-05:00

One of my students came to me recently, concerned because she read a number of posts online that slammed karate for being "a less effective form of fighting/self-defense."

How crude.

Now, I'm trying REALLY hard not to sound like an elitist karate snob here (Okay, I admit it, I am an elitist karate snob!), but I must say that those who doubt karate's effectiveness as a fighting art have never "really" studied it — at least not in any depth. In the same breath though, I'll also willingly say that EVERY art has its strengths and weaknesses. As the saying goes, "there are no superior martial arts, only superior martial artists."

Although I've studied karate for a very long time, I think I'm "just now" starting to get the hang of it. And so I've also familiarized myself with other complimentary martial arts to help fill in some of the tactical gaps that karate doesn't cover very well. That's exactly what a martial artist SHOULD do, don't you think? The mixed martial arts craze that's sweeping the nation is proof that the weaknesses of those who specialize in a single martial art (be they grapplers or strikers) will eventually be exposed in the ring — usually in a very unflattering, embarrassing, and painful manner!

There are a lot of misconceptions about what karate is and what it isn't — I'll readily agree with anyone who says you CAN'T do a kata on someone, or that the "crane technique" from the Karate Kid WILL NOT WORK. (duh!) But, the "hidden" techniques that are taught as part of our karate training process (joint locks, eye strikes, throws, etc.) can be particularly effective "out there on the street" — if you've trained, and if you're actually willing to use them.

But, I digress... While developing fighting skill is certainly part of our training, I'm pretty sure that most of my students are not "primarily" interested in fighting. If they were, I suspect (I hope!) that they would have left our dojo a long, LONG time ago. In fact, there's a great place right down the street that I can recommend — especially for those who are into fighting, bruises, and broken teeth.

Here's what I would ask anyone interested in joining my dojo:

Why do you want to train in this Asian anachronism known as "karate"? Aside from learning how to break things and hurt people, what do you expect and want to learn while you are here? Are you willing to learn fighting spirit? Are you willing to develop indomitable will? And are you willing to apply these things outside of the dojo? What meaning will you find by putting on white pajamas a couple of times each week, yelling and running around in your bare feet? Are you willing to stare your own ego in the face? (Your ego, after all, is the opponent I really want you to defeat.)

We train hard and seriously at our dojo. We get cuts, and scrapes, and bumps, and bruises, too — no paper tigers, please! And if push ever came to shove, I'm confident that when properly applied, the techniques we learn and practice on the mat will work "out there on the street." So if you're interested in learning self-defense (and some art and culture and history along the way…), I can help with that.

But if you're only interested in fighting, I'll be forced to admit that I'm not really interested in teaching you… unless you're going to use what you learn at my dojo to fight (take a stand) against injustice, ignorance, crime, racism, poverty, or hunger, or to fight for peace, the environment, better education, reconciliation, or some other worthy cause or ideal.

You see, karate is the disguise I use to try to teach people how to become more confident, respectful, cognizant, engaged, responsible, fearless, contributing, caring, and enlightened global citizens. Instead of creating fighters, I hope I'm producing compassionate human beings through the culturally rich training methods of traditional karate. My students are developing as amazing and inspiring people. People who just so happen to know how to throw and land (and take) a decent punch!

Some closing thoughts —

Karate first teaches you how to FIGHT:
karate-jutsu (technique).
Then, Karate teaches you how to DIE:
karate = "empty hand" = letting go.
Ultimately, Karate teaches you how to LIVE:
karate-do (way, road, path)

If It Doesn't Cost You Your Life, It Isn't A Quest

2007-07-19T13:32:00.000-05:00

When I originally began this blog, part of my intent was to document my journey as a martial artist. While I've done some of that, what I've really been doing is sharing my thoughts along with my observations of life and events through a martial artist's lens. I've been enjoying the process of observing, thinking, writing, and sharing. It's fun! I'm going to keep posting, so I hope you'll keep reading!

But, as for my personal journey, my own growth and development, my actual training experiences, and my transformation... lately I've been feeling like I needed something more than a blog. I needed a push, an inspiration, a supreme challenge... Something to get me out of my rut.

I needed a test!

So call me crazy, but I've just signed up to participate in "The Ultimate Black Belt Test" — a grueling yearlong examination that consists of challenges that are designed to create physical, mental, emotional and spiritual breakthroughs. It's going to be quite an adventure!

You can read all about my Ultimate Black Belt Test here.

Follow me on my quest. Train with me, if you'd like. Encourage me. Keep me honest! Wish me luck!

The Price of a Beer in Boston

2007-06-22T14:59:00.000-05:00

Weapons are tools of bad omen,
By gentlemen not to be used;
But when it cannot be avoided,
They use them with calm and restraint.
Even in victory's hour
These tools are unlovely to see;
For those who admire them truly
Are men who in murder delight.

— From the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu

As last call was sounded at the Six House bar in South Boston last Sunday morning, someone spilled a drink. A few moments later, 26-year-old Adam Rich paid for it with his life.

As reported in the news, Rich was stabbed to death during a confrontation that was apparently sparked by a spilled beer. A friend of Rich's was also stabbed three times during the assault. He survived, but Adam Rich's life is over. His family is devastated. The life of Rich's alleged attacker, 38-year-old Bernard Piscopo, is forever ruined, too: I'm sure he didn't head out to the bar that evening thinking, "I'm gonna kill a man tonight." But somehow, that's how things seem to have turned out. And now, he's facing murder charges. It's a shame.

For heaven's sake, when did beer get so expensive?

The lesson for martial artists — for all of us — is clear: knives are dangerous and deadly. It's best to never use them (as Lao Tzu advised), or face anyone who has one. I hope that my students are paying attention — especially my intermediate-level students, because I'm currently introducing them to knife attack techniques and defenses. Defensively, I teach my students how to move against a knife-wielding opponent, how to protect their vital areas, how to disarm someone wielding a blade, to be aware of one's surroundings, and — above all — to always, always, ALWAYS keep an eye on the knife. Offensively, I teach my students the various ways to grip a knife, along with knife strategies, tactics, and the vulnerable points for attack. We train with serious intent, but with rubber knives, padded floors, and a collaborative training environment, I sometimes wonder if I'm really getting through to them. Perhaps this incident will help to drive my point home. (Yes, pun intended.)

Do I have your attention now?

The reality is that knives are everywhere. I carry a pocket knife myself. It's convenient. I'm almost never without it. After all, you never know when you're going to need to slice open an envelope, open a stubborn package, or cut a piece of rope. And, being a folding knife with a single-edged blade that's under two-and-a-half inches in overall length, my knife is perfectly legal to carry. (For those of you who are interested, the Boston ordinance on the carrying of knives can be found here.)

In my classes, I cover the principles of using deadly force in self-defense situations. I stress to my students that they should get away from a dangerous situation if they can. I teach them that nothing they carry in their wallet is worth the risk of being stabbed or shot. And if my students should ever find themselves in a bar at closing time when someone spills a drink, I hope that cooler heads prevail.

Training in the martial arts is supposed to teach us more than just defensive skills — everyone knows this. As we train, we're also expected to learn about martial virtue. Respect, Compassion, and Discipline top the list of things that we study to help keep us balanced, calm, and under control. We are taught about the fragility of the human body in the hopes that we'll come to understand and appreciate the precious value of a human life. These are the lessons that we must carry outside the dojo walls. Everyone needs to learn these lessons, whether or not they train in the martial arts!

We teach peace and stress nonviolence in my dojo. I proudly walk this talk: lately, I've been studying mindfulness techniques and practicing nonviolent communication. I want my dojo to be known as a center building for life skills, a place for peace education. But still, if push ever came to shove, and if all other options were exhausted, I know that because of my martial arts training, I'm physically and mentally ready to use my knife to protect myself or my family. It's quite a paradox, really. I struggle with it all the time.

This week, a man's life has been exchanged for the cost of a draft beer, an apology, and a trip to the dry-cleaners. Earlier I asked, "When did beer get so expensive?" But the real question is this: "When did life get so cheap?"

What the World Needs Now

2007-04-20T04:35:00.000-05:00

"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee..."

— John Donne, Meditation 17, 1624

I won’t be teaching gun-takeaways in my next self-defense class, so please don’t ask me.

In the aftermath of the shootings at Virginia Tech, Cho Seung-Hui is being depicted as a “prototypical serial killer” — outcast, made fun of by his peers, a victim of years of constant jeers and insults. Now, Cho was clearly a very sick and disturbed individual. He was mentally ill. The last thing I want to do is oversimplify a tragic and enormously complex situation, or make light of the pain that the nation is feeling at this moment. But still, I can’t help but wonder what the cumulative effect of several years of hugs and encouragement (and yes, professional counseling and appropriate treatment) might have been in Cho’s life.

Have you listened to talk radio lately? Gun control advocates are stressing the need for increased firearm regulation, while their opponents suggest that if the other students in the Virginia Tech classroom were armed, they could have returned fire and stopped the assault. I don’t believe that more regulation would be effective, but we certainly don’t need more guns or a citizenry armed to the teeth, either. That’s not the world I want to live in. Definitely not the world I want my daughter to inherit. I believe that what we really need is more respect, more compassion, more tolerance, and more understanding. And making that happen will be much harder to do than getting any piece of legislation passed.

Many have expressed outrage that the media aired images and video of the “manifesto” that Cho mailed to NBC. The backlash against the media’s insensitivity is easy to understand, and yet, it seems tinged with hypocrisy: After all, we are the same society that glorifies “the Sopranos” (hey, that “r” is a gun!) and makes first-person shooter video games for our children to play. We live in a violent world, and we accept the violence as long as it is “pretend” or far enough away.

I see this in myself, too: It seems that on any given morning, I receive the news of a bombing that kills dozens half a world away, and I’m so indifferent, war weary, and numb that I barely pause to reflect before adding the cream to my coffee. It’s not in my back yard, so why not enjoy some java?

Well, as a newly aware global citizen, I see now that my back yard is bigger than I thought, and I’ve got some weeding to do.

Everyone seems to be looking for someone to blame, and yet no one is taking responsibility. Did the school system do enough? Did the healthcare system do enough? Where did the school administrators, mental health professionals, parents, and police go wrong? Would tougher or less restrictive gun laws have made a difference? Why didn’t people read the warning signs? And in his “manifesto,” Cho himself blamed everyone else for forcing his hand to kill. No personal responsibility there, either.

If nothing else, this week’s tragedy reminds us of our COLLECTIVE responsibility. It seems to me that our indifference and lack of compassion kills, too. The death of Cho Seung-Hui and his victims lies, in some part, with all of us. I don’t know what I could have done differently to prevent this tragedy, but I’m forced to ask myself, as a martial artist, what can I do to prevent this from happening again?

So no, I won’t be teaching gun-takeaways in my next self-defense class. I won’t be adding new firearm training requirements to my school’s Black Belt curriculum. Instead, I’ll be making peace education and training in nonviolent communication mandatory for my karate students. We’re all in this together. What are YOU going to do?