I Dare You (What Insipres YOU?)

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

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

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

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You Can't Push A String!

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

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

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

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

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?

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!

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

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

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?