Go Back and Do it Right

I was wrong and I've learned. We can't fix everything we break, but we can almost always take steps to set things right. Trying is always the right thing to do.

A few days ago I vented my frustration on social media:
"Another nurse today who had no idea what EDS was. At least she listened to me about the blood draw and didn't collapse my catheter. I missed my Physiotherapy appointment because it took too long to explain EDS to this nurse. Frustrated. Tired, too. I have to go to OT in a few minutes, but I'm exhausted. EDS Sucks."

She was one in a long line of nurses. I was frustrated because of all the trouble, and you can easily smell the stink of my depleted heart, stinking up my normally more humble attitude.

After venting to my friends, getting support from my sweetheart, reflecting on my experiences, and praying about it, I see now that because I had been worn down I did not have an "attitude of gratitude," which we practice in karate, especially with the kids.

I wish to be an example, someone good to whom they can always talk. That means I need to go back and do the right thing. My love for the children in our school runs unnaturally deep, especially because I haven't even been able to support the children's classes for a fortnight! Our children's instructor is a monument of faith, and I know they are in good hands. Sensei is always reminding the adults that our school is first and foremost dedicated to our youth. He reminds us that the most important thing we can do is set an example by constantly developing our character. (He's clearly made his point in my mind--ha!) When those kids even know who I am it puts me over the moon with joy. They're all great kids. We are a school focused on discipline, strength, and humility, and those are big words, even for adults to aspire to, so it's good to lead by example.

Back to the nurse: I did not give genuine thanks that she stayed so long, that she persisted until she got it, she was compassionate and genuinely sorry that she didn't know what to do, and she ultimately got the job done. On top of that, she heard my frustration and tried to comfort me from a kind place in her heart.

I was wrong. I value nurses so highly! I could have done better. I thanked her and told her that her job is very important, that I didn't blame her for not knowing EDS, that it wasn't her fault for being assigned to me, and that she did accomplish what she had come to do, which was very hard for me to get done. But my heart wasn't in my thanks the in way I'm accustomed to giving thanks.

Today I will contact her to tell her some shorter version of this, and to extend my thanks again, this time with an attitude of gratitude.

That's how I'll practice my karate today. God willing, I'll practice more in the dojo tonight!

Thank you for reading. If you have been a part of this EDS adventure, thank you for joining me in it.

Be well.

Tiny Hero Takanao Mahiro, Shotokan Karateka

Tiny Hero Takanao Mahiro, Shotokan Karateka

Since I started karate this charming young lady has had me mesmerized. There are videos of her all over the Internet performing perfect kata and bunkai (forms and martial applications) from age four. She is about nine years old now.

Mahiro is a Japanese Shotokan champion, flawless and fearless on the mat. Off the mat she is your average kind, respectful, perfectly cultured Japanese girl, an excellent representation of her country of ambassador caliber. Indeed, she is already raising the profile of Shotokan karate around the world.

If I'm not mistaken she is also featured in a few videos with the world's beloved Usami Rika. The videos take me back to days where it was so cold in the house that my sister and I would wear our winter jackets inside to practice our dancing. My sister gave a lot of herself to me in those formative years, though she didn't even live in the house. Maybe one day we can perform a kata together! The best thing about the ubiquitous availability of karate is that my sister lives in Miami and I in Baltimore, but we can find mighty good trainers anywhere in the world to learn exactly the same thing.

After a Shiai (tournament) bout my opponent and fellow karateka whispered, "you're terrifying!" as we walked off the floor.  She later elaborated on how my entire disposition changes when I'm practicing karate: you're the nicest person in the world, always smiling and happy. Then you get on the floor and it's looking everything changes!" I told her I am fearless in a fight because it's part of my Italian culture, but I recognize Mahiro's transformation of disposition and now wonder what else it could be. 

My opponent won that match. She is a kohai (junior karateka) to me by just a belt or two, so if she was truly afraid, she didn't show it: she performed well and I am still very happy that she won. It means she really used her skills! I must point out that she has many achievements out of the dojo that are far beyond my ken. My karate level is just a reflection of when I started and my belt is just for holding my gi closed. She won the match because she works hard and practices regularly. Perhaps she is more fearless than she feels. I respect her very highly.

I attribute to my culture my disposition change in a fight to my culture because I grew up seeing some of the best and worst of Italian culture.  I've had to be fearless at a moment's notice. It worried me for a while because I never want to scare anybody. I don't like how it feels to be scared. Seeing this transformation in Mahiro puts my mind at ease. Whatever it is that makes the change, it's not bad. It's a response to bad, like a cat whose tail wags erratically to signal that its limits will not be pushed beyond a certain point. Maybe it's the face of a gargoyle to warn demons that they should stay away, even though the gargoyle is made of stone and will not move!  That is, it's a protective disposition to ensure safety, not a malicious one seeking to harm.

I recognize Mahiro's serious face in myself. I recognize her confidence. She knows her stuff, her Sensei taught her well. Her Sensei knows her abilities and won't put her talents in danger where she will fail. Her entire school is behind her. I recognize this in her, in me.

Thanks to those who train us. Thanks to those who have made curricula available across the world so we can all grow, work hard, and learn.

Swimming In Zanshin

Higaonna-Sensei says in an interview, "when I get a knee injury, one would normally think, what to do? [...] One should learn to live with it. [...] Stress is a person's biggest enemy."

This is a very hard lesson to get behind, though I understand his point. Learning to live with it is easier when the injury doesn't change and is localized. I suppose if I had one bad knee, with pain that didn't change much in severity, or didn't require an immediate and improvised adaptation to my day, I probably wouldn't get choked up.  This is something to work on.

But Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome does change, and it changes from moment to moment. A lesson that speaks to me more is the concept of Zanshin. This is not a word we shout for a stronger punch. It is not a kata, a level, or a formality at the beginning and end of class. It is not a part of our uniform, or a move, or an application. Zanshin is integral to our very way of being, and translates to the concept of residual awareness. That is, after a match has ended, or after a kata has finished, one still does not let one's guard down. Zanshin is the concept of always being ready for more, never being unready when the next adventure begins.

Zanshin can be overwhelming for me to follow because I get tired. I get physically, intellectually, and emotionally tired, of always having to take care of my body. If it's possible to have clinical compassion fatigue for one's own body, I've waxed and waned through that state of mind like ocean waves change with the weather and tide. Those waves range from gentle, rippling nonchalance to thrashing, wild swells that can even drown me in their whitecaps. My world becomes very small as I dive into managing my needs. Luckily, at some point I always manage to come up for air. It is in those moments when I break through to the surface that, even with all the air I need, I am forever preparing myself for the next time I will go under. All people experience certain aspects of their lives in waves. With EDS it can be rapid-cycling, or lingering, or stormy for a long time, so it is best to be ready.

What can we do? We can practice the best habits as often as possible: eating well (or managing our tube feeds/TPN), staying hydrated, managing our energy levels, keeping in contact with a healthy support system, and so on. We can educate ourselves: read an anatomy and physiology 101 book, learn basic medical terminology so we can communicate with our doctors, get proper testing to establish baselines for our most vulnerable body parts and systems.

No enemy is going to worry about whether I am ready for the next blow. No ocean concerns itself with the swimmer. The more I learn, the less effort it takes to be ready. Knowledge is power. Zanshin is the practice of being ever ready to use that power when necessary. Zanshin is how one learns to swim through the waves.

The Spiritual Part of Spirit Training

Spirit Training is where you train so hard that the only thing you have left to carry you out of the dojo is your spirit. We do it every six weeks and it's when Sensei really shines.

The greatest challenge for a strong person to remember is that they are strong even when they don't feel strong---or especially when they don't feel strong. Maybe today wasn't Sensei's best day. It was rainy, some of us weren't awake yet, and he is probably still coming down from jet lg after a recent trip.  Even so, we were all plenty drenched with sweat and satisfaction!

At times he lets us see that his feelings are susceptible to vulnerability like everyone else's. It is not necessary to know the details because the lesson is in how he takes care of those feelings. To see vulnerability in him while knowing his strength helps me remember that my own vulnerabilities don't hold a candle to my strength. Part of our dojokun is, "I will strive to have patience, kindness, gentleness, and self-control."  That's the hardest part when it comes to me dealing with my own health muss, so I really need the example.

When you're in this dojo it's just you. No frills, no fancy hairstyles, no hundred patches all over your gi, none of that. Everyone can see you and anyone can watch you. This makes it important to do one's best, because we all learn from each other, and we will pick up on either the best or the worst.  One of the burdens that Sensei and Senpai bear is that everyone is watching them at all times, and for different reasons. They are always modeling, whether they like it or not, and that's a lot of pressure.

To my horror, I was late when I thought I'd be early today! Having decided that I would go all out today, I jumped in and had a blast. The pain was under control, I just took breaks to let spasms relax, and I got through without having to run fluids during training.

At one point my thoughts began to get foggy, which is a fairly new symptom, as far as I'm aware (or willing to admit). I dealt with it by using the Scientific Method, which is easy enough to use for problem solving, good and rote! I listed symptoms, concerns, possible solutions, likely outcomes, then evaluated and selected what I thought might work best. This was my first time working through it on my own in the dojo, I always check with Sensei. I thought I'd try it on my own, and I did okay. My method was breaks and hydration.

At the end of Spirit Training today, Sensei did a Mat Chat, where we sit down and be tells us what he's been thinking about, what he's been working on, what he'd like us to work on. It's a special time for character development that comes just before those who tested and passed receive their belts.

Here are some things Sensei shared which stuck with me as meaningful and relevant to my training. (Note: The wording may be off a little bit, I lipread and he has a beard.)

"It's not about how good you are at karate. It's about how good karate is for you."

"Whatever you believe in, you need to follow it to its logical end and know beyond every doubt that it will sustain you. If it doesn't, it's false."

"You cannot look at a person's belt and judge that their karate isn't good enough. You don't know what another person went through to get that belt."

I'll leave it at that, so you can think about it yourself.  I'm going to go home and shower, I stink. :)

Be well.

Gasshuku

I don't know what we'll be working on tonight but I have been studying and practicing gekisei dai ichi kata all day. I hope we will do some conditioning because I haven't done much all weekend in terms of serious athletic work.

Sensei Nakamura and Sensei Villa visited our dojo this weekend, along with other incredible people from around the world.

When I was invited to practice among them I thought carefully, and decided that although it would be an enormous privilege, as a white belt I could do more for the dojo in service than in karate practice. So I charged up my camera and took 700+ photos. Hopefully everyone got a meaningful photo for their scrapbooks.

A dinner banquet was held on Saturday night at a Greek restaurant. Julie joined me and I had a good view of the head table, where our guests sat, as did Sensei Tony. Seeing him practice as a student reminds me that teachers are also students. 

Everyone I have met is far more gentle than the Bruce Lee stereotype. Kindness and respect trump all other connections we have with one another.

It's still very early in the game for me, but I have really taken to karate. It is always about what I can achieve as an individual. No one is ridiculed or disrespected for being less than an expert. Quite the opposite is true, I have exchanged at least a smile with everyone else! The fact that I am still writing these assessment-style reflections suggests that I am really dumbstruck by the warmth of karateka. I've just never taken on any physically social activity in my life, so it's very new! At my age it should really be old hat, but for many reasons this is my first go. And I love it!

I had to help my precious cat, Figaro, go to heaven over the weekend. There is nothing more we could have done here and I won't let creatures suffer.  As I watched the blood drain from his paws while he flushed from pink to white I learned that my no-suffering rule is a compassionate strength; I have been through so much loss that I'm used to saying goodbye, especially to the sick. Sometimes comfort is all I can offer. For my little kitty, I could offer a little bit more, and let him go from his pained body.

I got Figaro when I was 19 and he was the closest thing I'll ever get to being young and carrying a child.  In spite of my little baby's departure I didn't waste a moment of life with him and it makes me feel good about my own character. That reflection helped me get through all the social interaction at the banquet. That is, if I were wretched, I could not have raised such a beautiful creature that "dog people" are still writing and calling to tell me that my Figo changed their minds about cats. Of course I wish he had lived longer than ten years, but those years were awesome. I miss that stinker and his kisses.

This entry is a bit rambly, but not every swing of the bat is a home run. Off to rest, and then to the dojo!

Be well.