Monday, December 10, 2012

People Will Talk

I agree with my fellow karateka: Tony Sensei has a way of explaining things that encourages, clarifies, enlightens, strengthens. I don't know where he learned to communicate in this way, but we are all learning more from him than how to punch and kick. Parents are learning to play with their children. Kids are learning to look after one another.

Everyone is on a journey, and we all put a lot of faith in our Sensei, along for direction, soaking in his regard for the progress of every single individual, while keeping track of the values and practices of goju ryu karate. That's a lot of pressure!

Where must a man come from, that he may be Herculean of character? And, why does not everyone seem to be eligible for such dignity? How does God, or hap, decode what is in us, which has no known genetic program to follow?

Here are a few reasons why I stumble over my own thoughts:

-When I was late, he wanted to know why.
-When I stumble, he checks on me.
-When the practice is complicated, he puts safety first.
-He gives us time to learn in our own ways before we practice as a class.
-When a student is tired he pulls just a little more out of all of us; we work together.
-I never stand still, even if I can't do what everyone else is doing, and he encourages me /with enthusiasm/ to change it up!

I never feel alone. Even when working independently I am encouraged.  We all watch each other, and when one of us stumbles, the rest of us quietly celebrate their next attempt.

Because of my hearing I only catch about 40% of what Sensei says, so it takes me a while to figure out what is happening, and I have to rely on my physiotherapy work to understand why it works that way.  I love when Sensei repeats a drill 3 or 4 times until we work out the kinks and unify as one class. It gives me time to adapt, and it takes that long for me to put it all together. Karate is no race, but full inclusion is a commonly overlooked principle of having a student with a disability.

Taking the full inclusion principle one step farther, he tells everyone the same things as I have learned about having limits, about learning to work effectively within those limits. In such situations I have the upper hand on my classmates because I have grappled with limits my whole life. I have learned to deal with feeling ashamed when I couldn't keep up, or when I got upset because I was hurting and couldn't communicate effectively--things we all go through on various levels, but which I have gone through a lot. My point: by teaching that "everybody has limits, and that's okay," I find myself feeling stronger. In that sense, I am in a place to be compassionate to others as they figure out how to cope. It makes me feel I have value.

Tonight was a tough night. I've been struggling since Friday with various issues of laxity and temperature. Today, I would not be bested. I am in a lot of pain. I keep finding myself in that had space where I fear passing out even though my fluids are within reach. To be safe I stopped twice to rehydrate and the second time I just kept my pump on. A caring shepherd, Sensei did not leave my suffering to bleat and carry me off. He came over and helped me back into the fold, gave some encouragement to finish out the night, and went right back to work.

When I get so sick I become terrified immediately. I can't think, talk, see, and though I am good at staying with my breath I still feel a sense of panic. It comes from a summer of going into shock every single day in the I.V. station before I got my port. Now iv don't need to panic anymore. The fluids will restore me and I will equilibrate, if I can just stay calm. That Sensei accepts it as no big deal helps me not feel like a freak, a disturbance, or worse, a weak person.  Being sick is hell on earth. If there were a cure I'd go right for it. But there isn't, and there is work to do, and I am there to be a part of the class. So while I have time to care for my health, this is not the time to let it trip me up. Such worry is not useful. Besides, I want my fellow karateka to understand that I take my welcome in the dojo seriously. That includes thinking honestly about whether or not to stop for the night, because if I collapse it will rattle the fold. But I took a rest, restored my fluids, and went back in. I'm glad I did!  In the blink of an eye I was smiling again, taking things lightly.

Being able to bow to my fellow students at the end is a ceremonious act that gives thanks for their patience and kindness, for their hope in me. I know nobody is exactly sure what Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome means), but the definition is irrelevant. The commitment is what matters. "We all get hit with something eventually."-Sue Bard

And then we come to what people share about themselves on the bench. I would never share the specifics, but it deserves mention that people are coming from places of pain, anxiety, hope, fear,  perfectionism, and we are all doing our best. In this way, we reflect our Sensei.

Suffice to say, when people talk about their experiences in karate, we are coming from a common core place of ambition,  improvement, self-respect. Some struggle harder with these concepts than others and I ache for them.  But like I do, they want something better for themselves, and of themselves.

Beautiful words come from our time in the beautiful dojo. What a refuge it is for so many. What an anchor is our Sensei.

Of course we talk. With such good energy, how can we keep it to ourselves?

Be well.

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