The journey I speak of began when I walked into a nondescript dojo in Ann Arbor, Michigan and earned my white belt in To-Shin Do, a form of Ninjutsu brought to America by Stephen K. Hayes - a martial arts legend I had never heard of until that time. I'm not going to spend time here covering the history of the art. I've left enough keywords in this paragraph that anyone interested should be able to find whatever they want through some creative Googling.
For the first few months, the training was hard for me. This was the most athletic thing I'd ever done. I'd never played sports or exercised on a regular basis before, and initially my body was not at all happy with the change. Eventually, though, it became easier. I began to lose some weight and feel better in general, and the techniques and mindset started to become familiar, even natural. I slowly learned things about myself that amazed me as I began learning how to do things I never thought I could. What's more, I found that the techniques and mechanics of body motion I was learning didn't apply only to fighting, but to many other things as well. Moving large pieces of furniture became easier, and if I got clumsy and fell, I could roll out of it and be back on my feet without getting hurt. The latter is an especially amazing thing for a 6 foot tall, 250 pound nerd, let me tell you!
About a year or so into my training, my personal life fell apart as I went through a bitter divorce. I won't write about the details here, but suffice it to say that the mental training I had received through To-Shin Do played a significant part in my getting through the situation with my sanity intact. I kept at it for a while, but balancing everything was now suddenly a lot more difficult.
Finally, when the divorce was finalized, I was forced to move very far away from the martial arts community I had grown to love so much. I kept at it for a while longer, but eventually finances and the pressures of life forced me to put my training on hold. I had just advanced to the rank of green/white when I made the decision. I was 10 belts in, and another 6 away from a black belt. That was 2 years ago.
Today, it feels like everything is different. I like most of the changes that have happened over the last 2 years, for sure. I've re-married, and we're very happy together. We have a beautiful baby girl and a decent place to live. I've changed to a much better job than I had before, and the financial situation is getting better slowly but surely.
I miss my friends and training, though, and my body certainly misses it too. I've gained a lot of weight back, old aches and pains have returned, and I'm sure I'm no-where near as agile as I was. With all that come lots of regrets and things I wish I had done differently. Mostly, I wish I had just stuck with it. I regret making the decision to go on hiatus, even though I still feel I had no choice at the time. This all adds up to what is basically a profound sense of loss.
But .. today, in a couple hours, I plan to start over. I'm going to a new dojo where the same art is taught, and I'm going to start training again. This time, I'm going to stay with it - especially now that I know first hand the consequences of stopping. Still, I can't help but feel a sense of trepidation in this. It won't be the community I was used to. It won't be the same instructor or the same people .. it just won't be the same, and that worries me. I'm also about to find out just how far I've fallen off the bandwagon and how much of what I've learned I will now need to re-learn. It's not going to be pretty, and honestly, I'm worried about finding and keeping the motivation to continue at all.
What I must understand, though, is that the situation simply is what it is. The only way I'm going to change anything is to actually do something - it won't get any better if all I do is think about it and worry. I must act deliberately and with consistency. I must focus my intention and attention on what needs to be done rather than what should have or could have been done in the past. The past is done and immutable .. but the future remains to be written, and I hold the pen in my hand, trembling as I move to set it to the paper.
In To-Shin Do, we have 14 "codes of mindful action," each one corresponding to a rank above white belt. We're supposed to memorize and mediate on them, and find ways of applying each one to the way we live and think. Some, of course, are easier to internalize than others. The one that's speaking to my heart today is still a few belt levels ahead of me, but still appropriate:
"I strive to be so strong that nothing can disturb my peace of mind. I avoid the negative effects of worry, doubt, and regret." -- To-Shin Do code of mindful action #13I'm learning that this does not imply that we are to avoid worry, doubt, and regret themselves, but rather the negative effects of those emotions. From now on, I need to avoid allowing my legitimate worries, doubts, and regrets from becoming the kind of fear that keeps me from moving forward. And if they do become fear in spite of that, I need to maintain the courage to act in spite of that fear. As has been said, courage is not the absence of fear .. courage is doing what is right despite your fears. Courage, therefore, is peace of mind in the face of worry, doubt, and regret.
Five years ago, in a moment I remember vividly, I stood in front of my friends and fellow ninjas at the end of a class. I held what will one day be my own black belt over my head, affirmed that "I will be a black belt," and began the journey of a lifetime thinking I could make it on my own.
Today, I look to my friends and family for the support and encouragement I know I will need, especially in the weeks to come, as I start that same journey once more.
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