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#shodan wants a divorce
tao-long · 5 years
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On the essence of a black belt
I started training in the martial arts 30 years ago.  At 20, I tested for my 1st Kyu, which is the highest ranking belt in Shorin Ryu before black. The test was physically and mentally grueling. It ended with the testing board going into the back room to discuss our (mine and the 2 friends I tested with) performance and 6 cinder blocks emerging each topped with a concrete block 1.5″ thick, 8″ wide, and 16″ long. A belt for each of us was placed neatly under each block. None of us had ever broken concrete before, but we all had experience breaking boards.  We all succeeded.  
We were then faced with one additional challenge.  One by one, our Sensei lit the edges of our certificates on fire and the certificates were laid flat. We were given the instructions to put the fire out by placing our hands on it, not pulling back, and moving our hands around the edges of the certificate to smolder the flames. I remember the experience being extremely intimidating, however, aside from minor singes, we all emerged unscathed.  And most importantly, we were not asked to do anything we were not capable of doing. We were only asked to do things we did not know we could do - a lesson that has stuck with me my entire life.
When I was 23, and about ready to move across the county for a new job, I had about 10 years of training in Shorin Ryu under my belt.  My school and Sensei were extremely traditional and only observed 3 common dans (levels) of black whereas many schools treated the first dan as the first true step in your martial arts journey and observed up to 10 levels of black.  Recognizing that not having a black belt could impair my ability to join other schools and bias folks in their understanding of my expertise, I was awarded my Shodan (first black) just before leaving for my new job.  I found that, despite recognizing how I got to that point and my Sensei’s best intentions, the experience lacked a certain amount of closure and decorum and left me with a feeling of being “unfinished”.  
Over the next 20 years, I accumulated rank in a number of different styles.  I worked my way up to green in Shotokan, 3rd brown in Chinese Kenpo, 1st brown in American Kenpo, and 1st brown in Okinawan Kempo. In each instance, I moved or life interrupted in some way such that I never “finished”.  
Over this most recent summer, I had hit bottom in struggling with a persistent and deep depression that took hold after my son was born. Ultimately, it stemmed from a combination of sleep deprivation from doing all of the night feedings, our son's medical issues, and an extremely stressful work environment. I could not sleep. I was treated with the wrong medications, worsening my symptoms, multiple times. I knew my dark mood was affecting the entire family, despite my best efforts to hide and/or manage it. And I never wanted to be a burden to anyone.
Over the course of my depression, suicidal ideation set in.  At first, it was just thoughts. Then I added a timeline. I did not want to leave my family in a bad place, so I told myself I would hold on until some perceived milestone passed. Eventually, the pain became more than I could bear and I started looking at shorter and shorter horizons. I eventually learned that after 2 years, my company’s life insurance policy would pay out 200k regardless of the cause of death. In my mind, that money would have served my family better than having to cope with me in my darkness.  
With complex childhood trauma, certain issues become common. As a young man, I was asked how I would feel about a bi-polar diagnoses. At the time, I said ‘no-way’. My symptoms were incredibly mild and more often than not, I presented as an extremely productive person. I was always reliable and I often fell back on the discipline I learned in the martial arts to manage my ups and downs in life.  When I first sat down with my psych nurse to discuss options for my depression, I informed him of that initial diagnoses discussion and that the diagnoses was never written down. In his defense, I was wishy-washy on the whole thing. However, I was prescribed a number of drugs that were contraindicated for people with bi-polar depression.  I found my depression worsening. I had begun acting out in ways that I had never before over the course of my 40 years (staying out all night, getting drunk and not picking up the children, and a number of slightly less horrible things). Each time I acted out I hated myself more and each time was a betrayal of my wife and family in some way. I also did not understand why it was happening. Brain chemistry is a bitch.  
Eventually, after doing something particularly stupid and really hurting my wife, I reached a place where I was done. I made some preparations, and had resolved to kill myself during the night after my family had gone to sleep. I truly believed, in the moment, that my family would have done better without me. In my mind, my wife had just finished a degree, my boys were young enough that my passing would eventually be forgotten, and that my wife would have the money she needed to rebuild her life. As fate would have it, I married an incredible, resilient woman.  She noticed that something was less right than usual and she forced me into a conversation.  Over the course of a gut-wrenching discussion (for both of us), I told her everything.
My wife immediately jumped into action. We made a safety pact. She got me in touch with a number of friends who could help support me. She scheduled an immediate discussions with my psychologist, family doctor, and psych nurse and she attended all of them. She had me file for short term disability to take some time to recover. And she sent me back to kickboxing, which I had taken a break from some months back.
After conversing with my doctors, it quickly became apparent that I was on the wrong medications and was advised to immediately stop them. We came up with a plan to ensure I got enough sleep and I was prescribed something that would actually help. Within a few weeks I was feeling better.  Within months, I was well into a desperately needed recovery. The hardest thing to work through was the repercussions of the actions that I took while sick. I felt like I was dealing with the fallout from someone else’s bad behavior - but it was me, however poorly medicated and severely depressed.
During my recovery, I reached out to my first teacher who put me in touch with someone who ran a global federation. My new teacher was willing to work with me remotely, would coach me through reviewing all of my kata, and would eventually test me for my black belt, this time with intention and as part of a global federation that could support my continued growth and my own dream of teaching. I had found new purpose. I had found a healthy activity and outlet for my energy and daily frustrations. My new routine was kickboxing three times a week for cardio and timing and kata practice 5 times a week to hone my techniques, mind, and spirit.  Kata is very much an exercise in mindfulness and a form of walking mediation.  
A few days ago, I tested for my black belt in Shorin Ryu and passed.  I don’t feel any different than I did last week, but I do feel much different than I felt a year ago. Over the prior 10 years, I had faced all of my biggest life fears and emerged stronger.  I was pushed out of a job (for all the wrong reasons) twice, had gone through a divorce, re-married, became a step-dad, became a biological parent, started new jobs, was abandoned by my parents and sister, fought through a chronic illness that I thought might be fatal, and fought off a bout of severe depression that was very nearly fatal. Along the way, I made a ton of mistakes that I handled with varying amounts of grace and poise (often very little of each). I lost friends and gained others. I lost trust of those closest to me and fought to gain it back. And I worked on healing and rediscovered my path and values, ultimately allowing me to move forward in life stronger than I was before.
I ran across a quote that really resonated with me during this time:
Everything I feared already happened to me, so I fear nothing.
Bushido, the warrior code, rests on 8 virtues (Wikipedia):
Righteousness (義 gi)
Be acutely honest throughout your dealings with all people. Believe in justice, not from other people, but from yourself. To the true warrior, all points of view are deeply considered regarding honesty, justice and integrity. Warriors make a full commitment to their decisions.
Heroic Courage (勇 yū)
Hiding like a turtle in a shell is not living at all. A true warrior must have heroic courage. It is absolutely risky. It is living life completely, fully and wonderfully. Heroic courage is not blind. It is intelligent and strong.
Benevolence, Compassion (仁 jin)
Through intense training and hard work the true warrior becomes quick and strong. They are not as most people. They develop a power that must be used for good. They have compassion. They help their fellow men at every opportunity. If an opportunity does not arise, they go out of their way to find one.
Respect (礼 rei)
True warriors have no reason to be cruel. They do not need to prove their strength. Warriors are not only respected for their strength in battle, but also by their dealings with others. The true strength of a warrior becomes apparent during difficult times.
Honesty (誠 makoto)
When warriors say that they will perform an action, it is as good as done. Nothing will stop them from completing what they say they will do. They do not have to 'give their word'. They do not have to 'promise'. Speaking and doing are the same action.
Honour (名誉 meiyo)
Warriors have only one judge of honor and character, and this is themselves. Decisions they make and how these decisions are carried out are a reflection of who they truly are. You cannot hide from yourself.
Duty and Loyalty (忠義 chūgi)
Warriors are responsible for everything that they have done and everything that they have said and all of the consequences that follow. They are immensely loyal to all of those in their care. To everyone that they are responsible for, they remain fiercely true.
Self-Control (自制 jisei)
In a way, it’s fitting that I tested for and earned my black belt now, in the way that I have. As a young man, I was physically ready and possessed the skills and knowledge necessary to pass a test in the dojo. I had been tested in combat and I survived a childhood filled with emotional and physical abuse. However, I had not been tested in life. Fighting someone one on one, however physically intimidating, is very different than having someone essentially threaten your livelihood and the well-being of your family over something as inane as office politics. Breaking a concrete block is different than holding your infant as they are coming out of general anesthesia or seeing the insides of your wife while she is getting sewn up from a c-section during the birth of your child. Putting a fire out with your hand is different than staring death in the face during extremely trying circumstances and making a different choice. 
There are very few things that still scare me - my wife or children falling seriously ill or being injured are chief among them. However, with a lifetime of tests behind me and the knowledge that there will be more to come, I’ll use this milestone to set my intentions for the next 30 years:
To provide a good life for my wife and boys
To be the best husband and partner that I can be
To be a good and patient parent
To keep sight of and on my path as a martial artist
To found my own dojo to serve those who are disadvantaged and who need to learn the lessons that carried me through life
To leave the world a little better than I found it
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