The Great Myth of the Typical Body Type

I have another story of what I learned from Gasshuku 2012.

The myth of the typical body type is that no such animal exists. The most simple organisms can be distinguished one from another. We accomplish beautiful things in our lifetimes by drawing on our differences. We become stronger, smarter, healthier, and happier because our differences from one another teach us more about ourselves.

This morning I am visiting my family for "micro-Christmas." Every year my nuclear family gets together outside of the holidays, which frees us to be with the families of our significant others on the actual holidays.

Karate has become so central to my life that I get heartbroken when I miss a class or the schedule changes. It's so curious, how naturally and completely I have taken to this activity!  But I have not excused myself from practice just because I am not in the dojo. I take a break and practice at work. I practice my steps when I walk, no matter how funny it may look to other people. Sometimes I laugh, too!

As someone with chronic illness, chronic pain, and unpredictable injuries from one moment to the next, the ability to use my body has been a much-needed respite. For years I have been trapped in illness, fear, denial, restriction, survival. When I got diagnosed I took full responsibility for my health (while my wife protected me from taking myself too seriously) and learned with diligence all the things I couldn't do safely. I relearned safer ways to do things I needed to do: get out of bed, yawn, eat, write, go up and down the stairs, turn doorknobs, millions of little things. Before my diagnosis I had been running every day. With a steady and compassionate voice my physiotherapist informed me that my running days were over. I was devastated. I still haven't gotten over it.

Karate has given me a new framework for learning about my body. In the world of disabilities we focus on our strengths as much as we care for our weaknesses: "What /can/ I do? "  It's a series of discoveries about balance, consequences, recovery, interdependence, personal development. I'll spare the details as they don't really fit the scope of this entry.

This morning I worked with what I have learned about my body and about karate. I am working to integrate karate practices into my daily physiotherapy routines. It's a little much, I really feel that it will be best to give each activity due time and attention. They just correspond so nicely that doing them simultaneously is attractive!

I worked on:
Isometrics
Leg lifts
Hip abduction/adduction
Proprioception
Balance
Breath
Geki sai dai ichi kata
Kicks
Punches
Blocks

I want to focus more on:
Gait
Stances
Range of Motion
Toe control
Shoulder stabilization
Hip placement and movement
Meditation

As I practiced I thought about who I was learning from. Ernie Sensei is tall, thin and fast.  Tony Sensei and Gene Sensei are modest in height with solid builds. Sam Sensei is tall and sturdy. Laurel Sensei is petite and solid. Nakamura Sensei is tall and quick.

I have heard different karate practitioners mention different physical challenges that they are facing with age: old injuries, stiffness, sciatica, metabolism, and on. No matter how much pain I am in, I become upset when good people hurt. It takes a lot of energy to stifle my sympathy. After weeks of contemplation I finally gave in and asked Julie why it hurts me so much to see other people hurt. Without hesitation she said it's because I know how it feels. Lesson: I do not have the emotional intelligence that she has, and can ask her such questions earlier, so that I can move on to other things. I feel I can potentially be useful by being myself in this way: some people say I am an inspiration because I keep going despite the pain. But who inspires me, who is in pain? The list has grown to include the Masters of Goju Ryu karate.

We all do the same moves. Our bodies are shaped uniquely, occupying space independently of our fellow karateka in order to maintain uniform timing. We learn the moves, but learning what our bodies need to do in order to perform each move requires practice. We have to figure it out in our own ways, and rely on Sensei to keep us lined up while we learn how our bodies deviate.

My body is extremely different. It's a constant effort to cope with that. But we are all doing the same thing, figuring it out. The Masters showed me that as we age we will relearn, so in that way we are all on the same plane.

Although I missed this morning's class, I have not wasted the time.

Merry Micro-Christmas!
Be well.