Saturday Sky And Reading Material

What Karate Means to Me


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 are no bonds 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 reach deep inside myself and find strength I didn’t know I had. To find the discipline to show up for class when I really wanted to just stay home. I really miss that old dojo. I developed a lot of character there.
As a child, I was not raised in a home that encouraged trying new things. In fact, the pravailing attitude was quite the opposite. My parents’ philosophy was, “You’d better not try anything new, because if you fail, you might be embarrassed,” as if being embarassed was the worst thing in the world that could happen to you. I carried that attitude in to my adult years, and even into the dojo as a white belt. Yet little by little, through sensei’s encouragement and his belief in me, I began to believe in myself. With each small accomplishment, with each little thing that I learned to do, and learned to do well, I began to find it within myself to try bigger and more difficult things. As I learned more and more, and was successful more and more my attitude shifted. I no longer whined, “I can’t”, rather, I began to believe, “Yes, I can!” I can do things right. I can do things well. I can learn new things. So my confidence has grown. I now have the strength and the courage to face unknown situations, and to try new things. And if people laugh at me, well, they’ll get over it.
Recently, I had to get a rather uncomfortable medical screening. You know how the doctors or nurses always say. “this won’t hurt a bit”, but then it hurts like the blazes? I knew I was in trouble when the technician said, “This is going to hurt.” She was right. But I stayed calm and relaxed during the entire screening, as painful as it was. When it was all over, she said to me, “Girl, you are as tough as a pine knot, because I know that had to hurt.” Although I didn’t say it aloud, my thought was, “I have to be. I’m testing for shodan in less than a month.” What the technician didn’t realize, and I didn’t even realize I was doing it until afterward, was that throughout the whole procedure, I was performing Sanchin kata in my mind. I didn’t plan on mentally rehearsing the kata. It just happened. This is the depth to which Isshinryu has become a part of my life.
About six months after I started training, a co-worker of mine asked me if I was finished with my “karate lessons.” When I told her no, she replied, “You mean you haven’t learned it yet?” I just smiled and said no, knowing she would never understand. True Martial Arts is not like it is in the Karate Kid movies. You can’t train for 6 weeks and know it all. Martial Arts is a lifelong persuit, yet you can train a lifetime and still not know everything there is to know about karate. I don’t know what my future holds, or what my future in the dojo will turn out to be. But I do know that I can no longer imagine my life without karate being a part of it somehow, even when I am past the point where I can participate physically. It has become a part of me, and will always be so. There are those who "take karate", and then there are those who become Martial Artists. "Karate lessons" may teach you self-defense, self-control, and how to fight, but Martial Arts teaches you a whole lot more. It changes your entire way of thinking and of perceiving the world. It becomes a part of your life. Being a Martial Artist has become a part of who I am, and what I am. It defines who I have become. Martial Arts is not just something I do. It is an attitude I will carry with me for the rest of my life. It has become a way of life for me. And that is something non-Martial Artists will never fully understand.