Wednesday last marked the final regular adult karate class before testing for rank promotions tomorrow afternoon. As I prepared to leave class, I asked one of the students how his preparations were going. He responded in a rather dejected way. “I wonder if I even deserve to be testing on Saturday.” I put my gear bag down.
Let me tell you about this karateka. He’s got to be at least 6 ‘ 4″ and is quite rugged. Think mountain man. I haven’t measured, but when his foot neared my face while we were sparring, I would guess it’s about a size 96. When we work on wrist locks together, I have a hard time because I cannot hold one of his massive hands in both of mine. He works hard. He is skilled. You would never hear him admit it. I really enjoy it when we get to work together.
He is also one of the most gentle human beings I have ever known. He has a great sense of humor. He likes to needle me about my desk job just because his requires regularly lugging 50 pound bundles of construction supplies up and down ladders in near and sub-freezing temperatures. Our stock “you didn’t eat too many cheeseburgers before class did you?” line never fails to generate a juvenile smirk. He is a loving grandfather.
Every class, without fail, this student approaches me, shakes my hand, and asks how I am doing. I doubt he realizes it, but I still have days when I don’t feel as though I fit in at our dojo. His simple greeting helps me refocus and push such insecurity right out of my head. He is a good man.
“I wonder if I even deserve to be testing on Saturday.” … It just about killed me inside to hear him say this. I poked him right in the chest and told him he deserves it because of this – heart. “It’s all about heart,” I said, “and you have it. Don’t let a missed block or a forgotten step shake your confidence”
He didn’t say it, but he must have been thinking I’d seen one too many Lifetime Movies or “underdog overcomes all” specials. Probably the few others who had gathered by the door were thinking the same thing. I simply said, “I know you probably think I’m being corny, but I’m completely serious, you have a good heart, you’ll be fine.”
I meant it.
You see, if you read our Grandmaster’s book, The Spirit of Okinawan Karate, turn to page 157 to read the words spoken by Mr. Baker and his experiences with Master Kise:
From the beginning, I did not think I could do karate. Still now, I cannot do it well, but I try my best. There are too many things to memorize. For instance, I may learn a new kata today, but by tomorrow I may have forgotten it. Every one single kata is very hard for me. … This is embarrassing. I have asked Master Kise to downgrade me to a white belt, but he refused.
Master Kise later speaks to the meaning of his karate in describing another student:
I once had a student with a very short temper who was probably the worst student I’ve ever taught. As years passed, his character generally changed. By the time he became a black belt, he was much more calm and acted more patiently. I often say that training the mind is more important than kata or technique. This is how I have been teaching, and this will never change.
So, to all my fellow students on this eve of testing, I share this thought. When you make an error during the test, as everyone inevitably will at some point, embrace the resulting moment of self-doubt. Own it. Control it. Beat it. Move on. Our Sensei believes in all of us. He expects no less from you of yourself.
I can tell you with no uncertainty that “success” in the Maine Traditional Karate Dojo is, above all else, about character development, heart, and attitude. I do not pretend to possess the wisdom or skill of a Sensei, but, in moments of self-doubt when I’ve completely blown a technique, I remember the words of our Grandmaster – “training the mind is more important than kata or technique.”
Who better than Master Kise to dictate the true goals of our system? After all, it’s his.