One of my taekwondo classmates was struggling the other night. "I have a problem with kicking people I know," she emailed to me after class.
I am pretty sure we all struggle with this in class. We don't want to hurt each other. Yet, we have all been hurt (some broken) and survived to kick again. And probably most of us have hurt someone without meaning to. Hell, we picked a combat sport folks. We picked it for a reason. And we keep doing it for a reason. And I am not stopping any time soon.
There is probably too much complicated psychology behind this to even try to think about explaining why those of us who practice martial arts do what we do, and love it. But I am going to give my own baggage a crack tonight, in hopes that I might help some of my comrades.
I did not ever learn how to fight as a girl growing up. Thankfully I never really needed those skills, although I remember the time Tammy smeared paste all over my favorite green sweatshirt in kindergarten and had I known how to punch back then, I may have practiced. My mom was eighteen when she married my dad who was twenty five. My mom addressed confrontation by obeying those who ruled the roost and by trying to make them happy, including her father and then her husband. My dad ruled the roost so I learned to shut up and disappear when I needed to. I never learned to speak up for myself, stick up for myself or fight for what I needed or thought was right. I learned that doing those things was shameful and that following the rules was safer. I would never do or say anything if I thought it would make someone angry or upset. If I did it felt really, really bad. Hurting someone physically wasn't even on my radar then. I would have rather died than hurt someone.
Fast forward to my thirty eighth year of life, married with two kids of my own, Jonathan who was five and Danielle who was three at the time. I was about to embark on the taekwondo journey without really knowing what it was I was getting into. The universe has a way of giving us what we need sometimes. I think you know what I mean. Sometimes we are given opportunities to heal, grow and transform ourselves and they can be disguised as all sorts of things. Mine wore a crispy white uniform tied with a black bow, was a man of few words but knew how to teach us how to fight, in more ways than one.
The longer I practiced the more passionate I became about the way of kicking and punching. I did feel stronger, more flexible and in great shape, but the thing that I felt that overwhelmed me the most was a mix between confidence and indomitable spirit. This feeling trumps the physical fighting skills I have learned. It helps me in every part of my life, not just in class.
The only thing about training with this new family of mine, is that the longer I practice the more amazing friends I make. I have known some of my classmates for over six years now. They are my friends. And some nights I have a problem with kicking people I know too. I don't want to hurt anyone. I would rather die sometimes. That old feeling comes back...don't make anyone mad, don't hurt anyone, stay quiet, stay invisible. Problem is that doing that has a cost. It is a heavy layer of crap that covers up my spirit. And at my age (44 next week!) that cost is too high. I have spent a lot of time uncovering, healing and transforming myself so that my spirit can shine. I am able to live with purpose and joy and nothing, nothing can take that away from me at this point. So I practice kicking, and I enjoy training hard, knowing that my purpose is not to hurt anyone, but to keep shining.
I picked a combat sport (sorry mom) and I know there will be times I may be hurt or hurt someone unintentionally. To continue the fight of my life, to be me, to live with passion and joy, I will need training partners who are willing to kick to the head, to show me what I am made of, to help me be the best I can be. To every one of you in class, thanks for doing that, for being a friend, and for sharing this crazy passion with me.
Here's to kicking each other, for each other, with as few injuries as possible...
Laura
PS. One of the rudest awakenings I had a few years ago when I decided to spar in one of my first tournaments was that the competitors I would be up against had absolutely no problems hurting me, by kicking to the head. Gheeeeezzzz Louise, that was a lesson learned the hard way. To this day I hesitate about sparring in tournaments because of that. The only way I will do that again is if I feel prepared, physically (because my partners in class are helping me train hard) and mentally. I am working on both of those things...
What are you all working on? Give me a few comments guys, make me feel the love. :)
5 comments:
You and I grew up in parallel universes. I am totally convinced.
Feel the love of your Mom, who loves you so much, and prays that you are not injured, ever.... but understands the fight. Sort of.... Love, Mom
As I sit at my office with my leg raised over my desk while I ice my knee, I also wonder "why do I do this...?" I admit, without my regular TKD dose, I feel something is missing. Sparring is part of the dose.
You know Laura, TKD does all what you described for me as well but my perspective on sparring is a tiny bit different.
For me, sparring is bringing the purest and more basic essence of an art to life. As if it was a dance, I kick and punch, block and get out of the way. There are times when my choreography needs improvement and I feel my opponents foot making contact with my head, chest or side but that is how I learn, that is how we all learn.
I have come to realize that many don't understand this difference and see sparring as simply "fighting". That scares me because this lack of understanding is what gets people hurt. For example: in practice the other day my child got pounded by another child who deliberately punched in the same unprotected area of the body while the parent cheered (not the first time this has happened and my child is not the only receiver of such treatment). When I asked my child what kept her from defending herself she said: "he is smaller than me so I'm not supposed to hit back - the instructor told me that awhile back" and then "but mom, it just makes me tougher if I take it" and finally "the instructor said that if I had been set up it would not have happened so it is my fault".
So, I conclude that as long as we keep our TKD tenants in our hearts and really understand what the sport is all about we will all be safe and have fun. Accidents will happen especially as we grow in our journeys and acquire knowledge.
The headshot I felt because I didn't block or move out of the way fast enough will always be remembered because it taught me and my opponent something. I have learned that I need to stand up and speak up for my child which will create a greater bond and trust between her and I...
I know our TKD journeys will continue...
Thank you for this reminder....
Sparring is definitely not only a fight. It is so much more than that. That is what I love about it. The lessons have been too numerous to count.
Thanks again for the wonderful comment!
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