When we last left our hero (okay it was just me and my prior blog), he was wallowing in self-pity after an impressive display of lack of skill in the martial arts. Chalking my exhibition of excrement up to yet another lesson on learning to be humble, I got up the following morning and went to day 2 of the Hanshi Shipe’s Annual Training Seminar in Maine.
As my son and I stretched out in preparation for the day’s activities, the most amazing thing happened. A Sandan (third degree black belt) came up to me and said, “I just need to tell you how much I enjoyed reading your blog post ‘Hai Sensei.’ Being able to write well is such a gift and the message was really well presented. I was reading and thinking ‘ I wish I could write like that.’ ” I thanked him and noted that his feedback was very well-timed as I was just thinking last night, ‘Geez, I wish I could physically perform like him and the other advanced students.'”
As the black belt walked away, it hit me right between the eyes, “The Stonecutter” from Bejamin Hoff’s Book, “The Tao of Pooh.” Okay, neither a book nor an actual professional stonecutter emerged to hit me between the eyes, I mean the concept of the story told in the book came to the forefront of my consciousness. (The book is a great read, by the way. And yes, Pooh, as in Winnie-the-Pooh).
There was once a stonecutter who was dissatisfied with himself and with his position in life.
One day, he passed a wealthy merchant’s house and through the open gateway saw many fine possessions and important visitors.
“How powerful that merchant must be!” thought the stonecutter. He became very envious, and wished that he could be like the merchant. Then he would no longer have to live the life of a mere stonecutter.
To his great surprise, he suddenly became the merchant, enjoying more luxuries and power than he had ever dreamed of, envied and detested by those less wealthy than himself. But soon a high official passed by, carried in a sedan chair, accompanied by attendants, and escorted by soldiers beating gongs. Everyone, no matter how wealthy, had to bow low before the procession.
“How powerful that official is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a high official!”
Then he became the high official, carried everywhere in his embroidered sedan chair, feared and hated by the people all around, who had to bow down before him as he passed. It was a hot summer day, and the official felt very uncomfortable in the sticky sedan chair. He looked up at the sun. It shone proudly in the sky, unaffected by his presence.
“How powerful the sun is!” he thought. ”
I wish that I could be the sun!”Then he became the sun, shining fiercely down on everyone, scorching the fields, cursed by the farmers and labourers. But a huge black cloud moved between him and the earth, so that his light could no longer shine on everything below.
“How powerful that storm cloud is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a cloud!”
Then he became the cloud, flooding the fields and villages, shouted at by everyone. But soon he found that he was being pushed away by some great force, and realized that it was the wind.
“How powerful it is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be the wind!”
Then he became the wind, blowing tiles off the roofs of houses, uprooting trees, hated and feared by all below him. But after a while, he ran up against something that would not move, no matter how forcefully he blew against it — a huge, towering stone.
“How powerful that stone is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a stone!”
Then he became the stone, more powerful than
anything else on earth.
But as he stood there, he heard the sound of a hammer pounding a chisel into the solid rock and felt himself being changed.“What could be more powerful than I, the stone?” he thought.
He looked down and saw far below him the figure of a stonecutter.
(Excerpt from Benjamin Hoff’s, “The Tao of Pooh”)
Please indulge me in a single example. The final stages of training in achieving one’s first degree black belt involve a fairly intense level of scrutiny of mind, body, and spirit. The student’s technique is constantly evaluated “under the microscope” and, to the uninitiated, excessive nitpicking may appear to be occurring. Performances are expected to be consistently crisp, responses to questions immediate and full of resolve, and proper dojo protocol to be exhibited in everything the student does. One’s training becomes as much about mental toughness and skill as it does about physical proficiency.
One evening, a junior student who would be testing for his black belt was having a particularly off night. He seemed to be hit with a series of questions for which he had no good answer. With each incorrect answer, you could just see his confidence lessen as his responses fell to be barely above a whisper. As everyone was instructed to work on their own material, the student was clearly rattled as he tried to practice his. At one point, he had to leave the dojo floor so that he could collect himself in the dojo office. By the end of the night, he had been metaphorically beaten. It was painful for me to watch.
After the Sensei had dismissed the class and as the student prepared to leave, I approached the student. “You know something, Student X (not his real name), between myself, Isaac (my son), and Sue (my wife), our family has been involved with this dojo for almost a decade now. I’ve seen many students come and go. Out of all the students I’ve ever witnessed here, adults or youth, you put more energy and effort into your katas and training than anyone else I’ve ever seen here. It really is energizing to watch, even for old guys like me.” He started to respond with “but …” I just cut him off. “But what? One night of being off doesn’t change who you are to me or anyone else in this dojo. Most important though is you don’t let it shake your self confidence.” You could literally see him straighten and push his shoulders back as his characteristic smile returned to his face.
Did my feedback have any long term effect on the student’s training – likely not. It did help turn his evening around and leave the dojo in a more positive frame of mind. However minor, I had made an important contribution to our dojo that evening.
It’s like our Sensei often says, “karate is so much more than just punching and kicking.” Indeed, when you have your moments of doubt and you wonder about your place in the dojo or your worthiness to hold your rank, understand that you are on the path – and further than you may realize. Karate-do is so much more than just how well you punch and kick It is an excellent road to travel on one’s journey of self-awareness, self-discovery, and self-improvement as a human being. Our dojo’s students come in a wide range of shapes and sizes, of levels of skill and fitness, and of social “outgoingness.” The common factor shared by all students, however, is that every student brings a strength or set of strengths to the learning environment that makes us all better. EVERY STUDENT. In times of self-doubt, and everyone has them, I encourage you to examine what positives you bring to the dojo or to your world in general.
Don’t think you have any or have you had a particularly demoralizing class? Flag me down before you leave. Dare to share your doubts. Risk being vulnerable. I won’t be able to demonstrate the technique as well as others. My mind is not as sharp as it once was, so I may not remember certain techniques at all. What I will do, however, is be as equally brave as you and tell you of the greatness I see. It’s something I can bring to the dojo regardless of if I ever learn to balance correctly when performing Wansu. … Sometimes being a stonecutter isn’t so bad after all.