Martial Arts Archives

Sink Swim or Fight?

The ground is my ocean, I’m the shark, and most people don’t know how to swim. ~Carlos Machado

It’s been almost ten years since I began training in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and today it hit me. I need to decide to get better or I need to quit.

I get into physical things–no matter what they are–in the spirit of Steve Prefontaine. At first it may be curiosity, or frugality (I do a lot of my own remodeling at home), but the sustaining interest is powered by Pre: to see who has the most guts.

Brazilian Jiu Jitsu is first about guts. Stepping on the mat places you in a world where few enter and fewer and fewer stay. That is not even considering the levels of success any one may achieve.

In my experience, my learning curves are steeper than some. Over time they regress to the norm as they should. Depending on the domain, they may stay ahead of those around me. I know this about myself and, admittedly, I allow it to prevent me from working hard–norm calibrated rather than criterion calibrated. As a musician I could stay pretty consistently ahead of the curve when in a new situation without any effort.

That is a confession not braggadocio.

It is shameful to think that spending time practicing could have produced a variety of outcomes, some with life changing potential. I did not act.

While an undergrad it became known that I played the french horn though it was not my major instrument. The orchestra director offered to secure an instrument and I requested weekly lessons in exchange for my participation. A golden opportunity to study with a well known musician and to perform both repertoire and some contemporary music. My teacher told me I had a beautiful tone and excellent pitch. I rarely practiced. Made plenty of mistakes in rehearsals. It did not last but I look back and wonder what could have been different if I took hold of that opportunity wholeheartedly.

I am reminded of an Old Testament passage where the prophet Elisha tells the King of Israel to strike the ground with an arrow.

18 And he said, “Take the arrows,” and he took them. And he said to the king of Israel, “Strike the ground with them.” And he struck three times and stopped. 19 Then the man of God was angry with him and said, “You should have struck five or six times; then you would have struck down Syria until you had made an end of it, but now you will strike down Syria only three times.” (2 Ki 13.18-19)

That being said, I can always say that I could have done more. And further, I am not including all of the other life factors that may have had a genuine influence on how committed I was to the work. AND I was a kid–that was a lifetime ago.

Bringing me back to my practice of Jiu Jitsu and my attempt to maintain an reflective awareness of my practice. When I began studying Jiu Jitsu, I was good. Or, at least, that is what I was told by others. I was able to get to class three or more times each week and was not in tremendous shape. I watched videos and read books about Jiu Jitsu. I was in. Deep.

Jump ahead. Craniotomy. Complete grad school. Have a daughter. Buy a house, work on house, move, keep working on house. Have a son. Shoulder repair. Change jobs. That last few years have not had me on the mats very much at all. Schedules have been rough. Recovery from a recent surgery was slower than expected. I have been on the mats twice since getting the OK from the doctor.

What was most clear today is that everyone has improved. My skills that were competitive a few years ago are not as competitive as they were. Attribute some of that to rust and being a little gunshy with the shoulder, fine. I was constantly scrambling and defending. Out of breath. HOT.

Granted, I managed to get in a full class and three or four sparring matches afterwards. All tough matches for me–I like to train with people who are better than me and I do not mind “losing” at all. I say “losing” because we all know that it means very little to tap or reset a sparring match. Some folks still keep track. I do. A little.

I am tired and sore. Worse than that is that I know what I need to do to improve and have to decide if I am willing to start doing it.

Supporting creativity Pt. 6

The first time I have been moved nearly to tears by dance was in college. I have explained the tunnel vision of audience participation before. This lucid state was, is, like a drug to me. Attention. Do I have your attention? Yes. Now don’t anyone mess it up. Life became exciting. Busy. Graduation. Work. Busy. Life. Love. Things forgotten, lost, new concerns and tunnel vision around necessity.

Spooky Action was the first evening length piece that MiRo had developed since Pitch Black. It had been a few years and they, I, we had grown so much. It was based, deeper now, around their work at Fermilab. Extended and researched. There was sponsorship and beautiful video integration showing off the technology of Green Hippo–live manipulation of multiple video streams and sources. It was perfect. Enthralling and at no point were you distracted with figuring it out. It was a character of its own.

This was about the time that the students really started to get deep in the practical understanding of quantum entanglement. You know. Like sixth graders tend to do. MiRo is more than a dance company. The research they do for a piece is one of immersion. Pasteurized. Almost completely underwater. They expect the same from their students who embrace the focus and the exploration. They see that complexity and depth of expression comes from knowing the reason and the rationale; the process of embracing the chaos and making it beautiful.

This was about the time that I started to get deep in the practical understanding of working closely with dance. Something that I had not done in decades. Seeing Spooky Action in the basement performance studio of the Kimmel Center brought back the tunnel vision. The music by Peter Wyer fitting as always. A narrative about relationships. The piece, furious with all the passions I would expect from all those bodies on stage and projected. Pixelated. Picked apart. Accelerating. Becoming.

Tragic.

That’s how I explained it to Amanda. It was so sad.

The first time I have been moved nearly to tears by dance in decades was that day. A few years since MiRo Dance Theatre began working with students at the school and suddenly I felt very vulnerable. Aware that fast friends were capable of reaching into me. It is very much like sitting across from a Jiu Jitsu black belt or a sharpshooter. Potential lies within but never lies without.

I am grateful to my friends Tobin and Amanda and the ways they have changed me. I am writing every day this week and I am dancing like a disco fool on Saturday night to support and sustain the work that they do. If they can change me and they can change students and they can change…

Click here to support art that challenges your thinking

Becoming Nobody

Online chess. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. It is a stretch to say that I like losing but I consider myself game. Gamey? Gamer. Willing. Much more willing to lose than not to play. Grow or at least have the experience. That will pave the way one pebble at a time.

So often you will hear in a conversation or read in a blog or social media outlet that someone considers themselves a “lifelong learner.” I wonder what they are learning? In my informal survey of these statements, it is typically a statement about one’s willingness to improve or change their current skills. Is that not what everyone does or is expected to do? Formally, I would enjoy gaining more information about genuine levels of objective growth and change rather than anecdotes about life-changing events and decisions that “really moved (institution X) forward.

As one who enjoys martial arts, I look at all areas of my life to reveal my training partner. It changes by day and by context but the function is the same. By working together, each one has the goal of improving their skill and they cannot do it alone. Regardless of your training partner, you can only have one competitor. Self. Choose how much practice takes place, quality of food, level of hydration, and intensity of work. Make the decision to be present. Aware.

Before I step onto the mats I determine my attitude and I am sure that it influences who obliges when I offer to pair up for a session of training. So many would love to say that “any given Sunday” I may win a match or lose a match; have an up day or a down day. That is not the case. My training session begins the night before when I decide to get a decent night’s sleep and moves forward with decisions throughout the day. There are not many decisions to be made. There is one. Then another one.

Me and Relson — Mugging for the camera with Relson Gracie

Watching the documentary “Bobby Fischer Against the World,” I heard David Shenk saying that there were 40,000 moves on a chess board after the first move. If you know anything about chess, you know that this is inaccurate. From both a mathematical standpoint as we as a meaningful standpoint, it is inaccurate. The only one with thousands of moves before them in a chess match is a fool.

Every decision made through the day determines an analog success or failure on the mat that evening. However you may score it. We all score it somehow. That is how we measure growth. I will not pretend to be one of the “all for fun” types. I will not claim to be a technician or analyst of the game but I know this–there are necessary and sufficient conditions in order to achieve growth and most of them depend on me.

Become nobody. Be humble. Serve. Give. Leave your ego at the door. I will take it one step further…maybe several steps. Those decisions that you make all week determine the type of training partner you will be for someone and reciprocally, they will then be for you. Rather than simply preparing yourself to respond and react, prepare yourself to be your best for someone else.

I’m a Loser, Baby (Soy un perdedor)

Watching the Metamoris Brazilian Jiu Jitsu submission-only challenge had me thinking about the acquisition of skill–okay, I think daily about the acquisition of skill–but also about how you carry, characterize, and implement skills that you have. Also, I have been revisiting some of my early research about the perception of Expertise in the eyes of those to whom it actually matters. You know, where the rubber meets the road.

Experts meet every day in battle on the chessboard, the mats, all over. There will be a loser–or at least a perceived loser–in each match. A game played to stalemate may be entered into the books as a draw but the players know who was controlling the pace, who was attacking and who was defending, and who was dominant throughout. What do you call an Expert who loses?

I remember when Mike Tyson lost.

You have to ask yourself: Who is a Black Belt in my field? Who checks all the boxes?
Does the loss matter and how pervasive and deceptive is your perception?

And my time is a piece of wax, fallin’ on a termite
That’s chokin’ on the splinters

Beck, Loser