Tonight was both a frustrating and fruitful night in the dojo. Therefore, it seems as good a time as any to pause and reflect upon my martial arts journey, especially since this Saturday (July 2) is the one-year anniversary of when I started Shotokan karate at the Karate Edge. (My martial arts birthday!)
Over the past year I have tested for three belt ranks: from white to yellow, from yellow to orange, and from orange to purple. Plus, I have half of the eight stripes I need to test for my next (green) belt.
For every challenge that arises, there is also an accompanying reward, if I only pause to notice it.
I still struggle to get into the proper back stance without thinking about it. When someone reminds me to get into a deeper stance and to shift my weight onto my back foot, I feel how I should be standing. And I appreciate their informing me of the necessary corrections.
While I strive for an acceptable shuto uke / knife-hand block most of the time, occasionally I know that I can perform it if I am patient and precise. (And it is noticeably improved from months ago.)
I labor through body mechanics while I appreciate the pattern that stitches them together.
I can land the occasional point in kumite (sparring) when that notion once seemed foreign and fleeting and somewhere I would never arrive.
I am healthier and more physically fit than the Troy of a year ago. I am more disciplined. I am more flexible. I train on a regular basis in both karate and qigong.
And, perhaps most surprisingly to me, I am part of a “gym” and part of a community. Both of which I must work at a bit to be completely present at and present to. (And that’s okay.)
I am also part of a lineage of martial artists, both here and now and there and then. I get to train with great people. I am participating in lifelong learning, of which I am (and have always been) a strong proponent.
So, tonight, when I was frustrated with feeling “stuck,” I was reminded by others around me of who I am and what I achieved this very night. (Partly just by being present.) I was supported. I was held accountable. I was gently corrected. I was given encouragement. I was given homework.
I was also able to laugh at myself. I peered into my belt box when I arrived home and was reminded that even though I am no longer a white belt, I need to always keep the mindset of a white belt. Everything needs to be new and surprising and wonderful and scary and a bit of a challenge. Because I
have moved and grown and changed. I can see what I’ve accomplished when I look at my belts and when I look in the mirror. That is where I see the ripening fruit.
