All Worded Out

I've been working on my Shodan essay, and my writer is all written out. I think this first part is pretty well complete. Here is what I've gotten so far:


In July 1989, when I was about to graduate from Navy Boot camp, my company commander said something to me that I have never forgotten. She said, "You will never be a civilian again." At the time, I was thinking, "yeah, right," but as more and more time passed by, I began to see the truth in her words. I am no longer in the military, but neither am I a civilian again. I am a Veteran.
Being in the military produced a profound change in my life. It has completely transformed me, and my way of thinking, feeling, and perceiving the world. I see things differently--through the eyes of a Veteran. I experience things differently--with a military mindset. I think differently--both from the way I thought before my military experience and from the way those who have never served in the military think. My entire life experience has been colored by my time in the service. Being in the military during a wartime situation (the first Gulf War) changed me even further. But I won't get into war politics here...
Being involved in the martial arts has affected me in much the same way. It has completely transformed me, and my way of thinking, feeling, and perceiving the world. Karate, to me, is not a sport, hobby, nor simply a way to get some exercise, though getting exercise is the primary reason I began training. Karate has become a way of life. It has transformed me into a completely different person. I see things differently--through the eyes of a Martial Artist. I experience things differently--with a Martial mindset. I think differently--both from the way I thought before my experience in the Martial Arts and from the way those who have never trained in a Martial Art think. In the paragraphs that follow are some of my thoughts on what karate has meant to me.
When I first began training, our dojo was in sensei's shop. His garage, if you will. It had no air conditioning in the summer. The humidity was always very high. All I had to do was walk into the dojo, and my hair would start to curl. It made for some pretty miserable workouts.
The dojo had a very small, and not very efficient, wood heater in the winter. It didn't cast heat more than an arm's length away. There is no bond like those formed by huddling with your fellow karate ka in a two foot space of warmth trying to keep from freezing. It didn't always work. Many a time I left class in January and February unable to feel my feet because they were so cold.
There were two red wasps that lived somewhere in the building. Their names were George and Laura. It seems they wanted to learn karate also because they were always out and about while classes were going on. Nothing teaches you focus like concentrating on performing a kata while red wasps are closely inspecting your face, especially if you're allergic to them. Then you know that you not only have to deal with the discomfort of being stung, but also with three days of pure Hell as your body reacts to the venom.
But through all of that, I learned to push myself beyond what I thought was physically possible. To keep going when I really wanted to quit. To try things I never would have had the courage to try otherwise. To reach deep inside myself and find strength I didn't know I had. To find the discipline to go to class, when I just wanted to stay home.
They say adversity builds character. I really miss that old dojo. I developed a lot of character there.


I have to have it finished before Saturday, but I'm all out of words.

Ahhh, maybe a good night's sleep will clear the cobwebs.