"Watch and Learn" is a Thing

"Watch and Learn" is a thing; I'm a hypocrite if I could do that thing, but then don't.

If you have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and practice Goju Ryu karate, you'll need to practice adapting. I am a star at adapting, with plenty of life experience. What you do on the floor has to work in the street or it's of no use. Observing gives me an opportunity to watch and think about adaptations without trying to stay conscious and upright.   

For both Monday's and today's appointments I did not get medically cleared by my physiotherapists to attend the once-in-a-lifetime Gasshuku (special karate group training) this weekend. The Gasshuku is with 8th Dan Paul Enfield, and it was the right call: my sacrum won't unlock. If I try to use my lower back I'll be very sorry for it later on. Throwing punches without full access to my hips is causing my clavicles and shoulders to sublux. Kicking with a fibula that won't stay in place unless it's taped, or suri-ashi (body shifting) with an ankle that won't stay in place, is not a good idea. All this, right after finally figuring out a way to reduce the blacking out from Dysautonomia. Any one of those things would be reason enough for any rational human being to sit the heck down.

But this is Paul Enfield, the man who brought all four volumes of Higaonna-Sensei's work to document Goju Ryu karate to the English speaking world. Sensei told me to come and observe, and usually I would be able to do that, and happily. PT suggested the same. But I'm deaf in the dojo, so it would be complicated and stepping into the dojo is already so emotionally charged that I can't imagine being isolated in two ways (movement; hearing). That's an error of thinking, though; I am never separated even when I'm just observing because my dojo family goes out of its way to make sure everyone on the floor is included.

I dread sitting out because I put everything I have into physical therapy to get back to karate. It feels like I'll never be done rehabbing, and it's true that I'll never be done with rehab. PT is a permanent aspect of life with EDS. But rehab without karate feels like I'm fighting just to live, and my quality of life feels pretty low since the third bout of sepsis.  I also miss my port and the freedom to roam whenever and wherever I want to go.

It's hard on the psyche to go to the dojo and not physically participate. Sometimes I have to step out to cry, which is fine, but tends to make others worry. "It's just hard," I tell them. And it is. The pain of knowing my body will work against me if I try to use it is agonizing in itself. It's arguably worse than the physical pain, but because the physical pain affects my overall functional level (like being able to use the bathroom), I have to respect the pecking order of matter over mind. 

It won't be forever. Sensei assured me that there will be plenty more Gasshukus. But my heart is in the dojo and I want to be doing karate. No matter how much I read or review while I'm physically rehabbing, it's no replacement for live practice. Not being able to practice also has a detrimental effect on how much I can learn through studying, too.

What I'm trying to say is that I'm upset when I don't need to be, and if I want to be a hypocrite I should stay home and not find ways to adapt what I'm seeing. And yet, I feel pretty rotten. But even when you feel rotten, you should go to karate.

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.