Origin

About this time last year, on the drive back to Orlando from a skills test in martial arts in Boca, my former senpai, turned instructor looked to me and asked “Why do you practice martial arts?” I believe my answer went somewhere along the lines of: it replaces the role music once had, in that it requires complete focus, forcing the mind to contemplate one subject and act upon it with all of its ability.

Now I sit here asking myself the same question, attempting to know exactly why I choose to pour all of the “extra” time I have into training. Wondering if my current state of horrid health, a result of an overtaxed immune system by way of a seven hour aikido seminar, followed by an intense night of conditioning, is truly worth whatever I’m seeking.

In the course of a year, three of my favorite senseis moved on to pursue careers and enter the next phase of their lives.

One is the old wise man. The guy who doesn’t look to be an aikidoka, or practitioner of any martial art. In fact, he appears a smaller version of Santa Claus. Until he steps upon the mat. Executing every technique with smooth aplomb, aikido translates as a mere effortless extension of his very being.

Then there’s the drill sergeant. The dude who runs a 26k for normal exercise and scoffs at the notion of drinking water during practice. Hard core is a title hard fought; and no one achieves it easily on his watch. When he steps onto the mat, whether you’re yudansha or senpai, expect to be rocked harder than the Gators did the Buckeyes all year.

Perhaps most influential of all my instructors, is the one who was once senpai. Shorter than I and calm in demeanor, once decked in gear for kumite, aggression ran rampant. No one could outfight this cat. As a dedicated student of the art of combat, he formed solutions to defeat every style of fighter. Be you tall, short, squat or lean, of kung fu, shuri ryu or jujitsu, he possessed a lethal plan of attack of concise proportions. But that’s not why he remains so influential.

Four weeks before that car ride back from Boca, he told us senpai that we would run with him everyday in preparation for the test. A month after the test, he would make us fight him, exploiting our weak points and forcing us to concoct strategies for any type of fight. For knowing when to push and how far to push students, that’s where the influence comes from.

After attaining the rank of 6th kyu (green belt), one has to decide if she or he can embrace the lifestyle of a practitioner of the martial arts. Any advancement from then on demands sacrifice. Time, health and ego all share space atop the chopping block. Even then, partying, nights on the town and hanging out are often traded for conditioning, pain, scrutiny, adhering to a system of hierarchy and more pain. New skill sets aside, to contemplate scaling the ladder, is to determine whether all of that is worth a newfound sense of self.

Finally my test of mental measure has arrived; the prelude to the physical test to come. As I sit here demoralized, in the midst of a health rut, I realize I must influence myself. Why am I still training? That newfound sense of self hasn’t quite kicked in yet. And that elusive peace of mind that comes from attaining a level of focus unparalleled, still isn’t quite within my reach. So, it’s off to the dojo I go.