Handicapped (part 2)

 

(thanks for the inspiration Mr. Physics)

How do you know when you have the right circle of friends around you? One way to tell is that being with them raises you up - makes you better. To maintain the status quo, you push yourself harder to be a better version of yourself, worthy of such companionships. They ask hard questions and gently challenge and encourage you to keep growing and learning. They are by your side through thick and thin, always having your best interests in mind. They make sure all your bases are covered and that you don't miss anything. How fortunate I am that throughout my life, such smart, wise, capable people have taken mercy on me and included me in the conversation. As a result I have learned things I otherwise would never have even dreamt of understanding.

The other day over lunch I met one of these friends. We began to talk about handicaps. He mentioned the statistically significant increase of students at Cambridge University who present with ADHD and autism, nearly 400% higher than previously measured. If this were so, to what degree they should receive special treatment?  Nearly 100% of the freshman class were determined to have some form of ADHD or be on the autistic spectrum. What does this mean? That our modern society now has such a statistical occurrence of these conditions that it is now the normal state of young people? I doubt it. However, by showing up on the ADHD/autism spectrum, these students are able to get perks such as additional time on exams, extra tutoring, longer deadlines for submission, and even stipends from the government. That's a lot more than just a sticker that gives you closer parking spaces. Frankly, if you don't get placed on the spectrum, you will be disadvantaged. Shouldn't it be the other way around??

I initially wrote about this topic five years ago. I had ADHD. I was on Adderall, Ritalin, Concerta, Dexedrine at various times during my childhood to try to limit my hyperactivity. The medicines all had very bad side effects on me and in the end I was taken off of them and left to just do the best I could. I never got any special treatment, and in fact I was mercilessly tormented and bullied by my classmates for nearly 10 years of my education. Over time I learned to live with my condition, regardless of the label. 

In addition to ADHD, I am basically blind in one eye (can only see light but not shapes, numbers or letters). I have worn glasses for more than 50 years, and learned to adjust to this limitation growing up. I learned to drive, shoot guns, play sports (badly) and even do martial arts (not as badly). It prevented me from joining the US military, which had been a childhood dream of mine, but apart from that my poor vision did not stop me from living a pretty normal life.

I fully appreciate that there are people with ADHD and autism (and other disabilities of course) who genuinely struggle to make their way in society and are truly deserving of special treatment. In adulthood, I also came to accept that being handicapped does not make me "lesser" than other people. It simply reflects a difference in capabilities rather than a value judgement of someone's worth. I think the hallmark of an elevated and mature society can be measured by the way we take of our vulnerable and marginal citizens.

It is a bit hard to believe that all the students in that study, despite having ADHD and/or being on the autism spectrum, were somehow able to overcome these challenges en masse and get into Cambridge University. The more likely explanation is that they simply learned how to game the system, and realized that they would be at a disadvantage versus other students if they didn't get the same treatment. US gun culture is a bit similar. You don't want to be the one person without one. That would put you at a severe disadvantage.

Why would someone claim to have a disability who did not? I think in addition to receiving incremental benefits, in some cases even grants or other financial incentives, everyone has an inherent ego need to see themselves as "special" and deserving of "better" treatment than others. We want to be recognized and catered to, with people deferring to us because our challenges somehow make us MORE not LESS. There are extreme cases of people identifying as a whole host of categories in order to "belong" to a group that can be socially perceived as deserving privilege and protection.

Who does this hurt? In the end, it hurts people with real, debilitating handicaps that they genuinely struggle with, since the broad categorization of people as "handicapped" or "disabled" trivializes the struggle and makes the challenges of those with more severe limitations seem lesser than they actually are. If everyone has the label, it ceases to be special any more. Truly, can society really support a generation where everyone claims to have "special needs". Does every social interaction really need to be the Starbucks "special order" of privilege and entitlement? Over diagnosis of these kinds of mental health issues drains critical, limited resources from those who are actually in need. https://www.varsity.co.uk/comment/27315

The UK allocates up to nearly $50,000 for those qualifying for support under the DSA (Disabled Students Allowance) https://www.gov.uk/disabled-students-allowance-dsa

Eligibility includes conditions like anxiety and depression, which are notoriously difficult to assess. Throughout my life I have felt both (sometimes at the same time) and been diagnosed with both, and yet never imagined I should be paid money or given special consideration.

While recent studies in the UK show that abuse of the benefits system might be somewhere around 3%, the real figures may be far higher given that it is very different to check every claim and ensure that every recipient is genuinely in need. In the US, former Republican President Ronald Reagan successfully ran on a campaign vilifying the "welfare queens" who were supposedly having as many children as possible from different fathers in order to maximize their social benefits. The current US administration makes the same claims about illegal immigrants. Even Japan, where foreigners are only about 3% of the total population anyway, politicians use the "us versus them" argument to target foreigners as somehow taking benefits from native Japanese (statistically this is clearly the opposite - foreigners are net contributors to Japanese social security by a very wide margin)  

In my case, I never considered myself handicapped and was always triggered if that label were applied to me, even if it was accurate. On one hand I felt that the benefits and entitlements for handicapped people were not required for me and should be used for someone more in need than I was. I had my pride, and I got along just fine, thank you. The reality may be that I felt the "handicapped" label to be a stigma that would isolate me further from "normal" people, when my goal had always been to be (at least) as good as other people. I struggled. A lot. In the end I became resilient and unbreakable - committed to achieving my version of success and undeterred by any of the many negative things people have always said about me. Haters gonna hate, after all.

It took a long time and a lot of experience to not only begin to accept other handicapped people as not being "lesser" than the rest of us, but also to accept that I myself belong among them. I am handicapped and can/should use my voice to bring additional awareness to the range of diversity humans can have and still contribute to society in a positive and meaningful way. I have tried to tie this awareness back to my heart of compassion, to allow me to better meet others where they are and do my best to support everyone, handicapped or not.

I hope society will continue to support those among us in need, but also encourage people to reject a victim mindset simply because they refuse to put their best efforts in. I hope we will help every child to feel special without a need to seek belonging through external labels or defaulting to a learned helplessness.

As a martial arts instructor, my mission is to help students develop the skills and confidence to be successful in life - that means VICTOR, not victim. In class we challenge students to do and be more, to grow and push forward positively into the next better version of themselves without excuses. I don't plan to stop doing that anytime soon. Together we will refused to be limited by any restrictions, be they mental, physical or emotional.

What do you think?

Stopping

 

The other day I was watching some Kali instructors practicing free flow with training knives. Of course, it was just a discovery exercise, but something resonated with me. Something didn't look right and it took me a while to figure out what it was. They were stopping after each movement: block/redirect, counter, finish. Each time I could see four distinct steps.

Filipino martial arts are difficult to learn. There's a lot to remember with your upper body, lower body, footwork, weight shift, rotation breathing and so on. There are many movements done in sequences, and the mind naturally puts them in ordered steps to that we can more easily remember them. To some, it feels a bit like assembling IKEA furniture or playing a board game. You simply follow the steps of the pattern until it is done.

However, I would argue that, except for beginners, FMA are not like building IKEA furniture or playing board games. Yes, there are steps/sequences, but I would more liken it to playing music instead. When learning to play music, at the beginning the student has to stop after every note, usually to adjust the fingers or to take a breath. However, playing music well involves linking the notes together seamlessly, so that muscle memory allows the fingers and breathing to occur without disrupting the melody of the song. Unless you can do this, in the end you can only play a sequence of single notes. That's just not a song.

In the Filipino martial arts, we refer to this concept as FLOW. It was a big deal for my teacher, and very hard for me to learn. Rather than predetermining every movement of every sequence in advance, we train the body to have awareness of itself and any opponents in 3D space, and to move instantly to the most appropriate position and technique until the situation is resolved. In the Japanese martial arts we use terms like Mushin 無心 ("no mind") and Zanshin 残心 ("remaining mind") to refer to this.

So, how to develop flow? My teacher was suggestive in some ways to help us achieve this important skill.

Daily Practice - he advocated at least some minutes every day for training. For FMA practitioners this should include empty hands, stick(s) and blade. For me I spend on average 15-30 minutes a day on these three just stepping through ideas and flows and concepts. I include all subsystems so that when I use them my body can move through them naturally without pauses.

Carenza - linked to the above, carenza is often called "Filipino shadow boxing" and is akin to kata in Japanese martial arts (although in general FMA use drills but not fixed kata as such). It refers to practicing the movements alone including footwork, timing and combinations, sometimes to rhythmic music. Carenza is wonderful for exploration and developing timing and focus. I can usually gauge a practioner&s level immediately if I see their carenza. Again, this is great to do with every subsystem and weapon. I personally feel not enough training time is spent on carenza by most FMA practitioners.

Slowly, Constantly Moving - When working with partners in the dojo, I think it is very important to try deliberately to remove the pauses from the movements so the muscle memory won't have them. In the beginning, this can mean going very slow BUT not stopping. Trying to get the mind to connect the steps so no pauses remain. Over time, the sequences can be sped up to be faster and faster. This will not become fast if the pauses are kept.

One example of this is weapon disarming techniques. When we learn them, they are taught as a series of steps, each of which must be done correctly for the technique to have a high chance of success. However, to become truly good at doing disarms, one must perform the steps together as one motion rather than a series of small movements. Another are the locking techniques, particularly those of aikido. Each step has a million little details, but just like a gold swing or a bowling strike ball, in the end the whole body must move together as one from start to finish for the technique to be successful. Each can be trained in isolation if needed, especially the gold swing, however it is the integration of the movements that must be burned into the muscle memory to be good at the sport. Boxing is another area where pausing prevents fluency. Good boxers master each punch separately, but good, competitive boxers execute the movements from muscle memory, since that speed is essential in creating the knockouts that win matches.

I'm grateful to those instructors for their video, which reminded me of a very important element of training. Flow is the goal!

See you at class!

You Get What You Deserve

 

(Thanks for the inspiration Fire Guro)

Over a short weekend in NYC recently a lot of good conversations were had, together with good food and good weather. That's a perfect weekend for me. A good conversation often starts with a good question, so I tried to ask one of my best ones. It anchored what we talked about for the rest of the day.

"Do you think you deserve to be wealthy?"

Read that one again. There's more in there than you might imagine at first. This question causes us to define for ourselves what "wealthy" means, since it is not the same for everyone. It also challenges us to reflect on our self-image and judge whether or not we believe ourselves to be worthy of a certain standard. Lastly, it makes us consider what habits and behaviors we have that might influence our life's trajectory, and the outcome of our efforts. In the end, not an easy question to answer. It opened up a lot of discussion.

In my case, I think asking ourselves what we "deserve" is an important exercise. Not just about wealth, but about love, success, respect and the other things that make up the common KPIs we use to measure ourselves. For some, this line of enquiry suggests entitlement or birthright, meaning that one person may deserve these things and another may not. As a Buddhist, I can say that the answer to these for me is always emphatically "YES" but that I believe everyone else is born deserving of them as well. We are ONE. I concede that we may, through our thoughts and actions, relinquish the right to deserve these things. On the other hand, we are all allowed chances at redemption and by correcting ourselves we may recover the right as well.

For many of us, certainly for me, I struggled for a long time with my self-image and lack of confidence. For many years I would have answered NO if asked whether I deserved, literally, anything. As a handicapped foster child raised in a lower middle-class family in Chicago I felt abandoned (since I was) and unloved (I wasn't). We were far from wealthy but we had enough. As such it did not occur to me that I should (or could) deserve something more. In the beginning I did not believe I deserved a good education or a good career or a good partner or a good family or a good life. The truth is, I deserved all of those things and in the end I got them all. One of my best friends told me "You've aced it, Honeyman. You won in life. Take a victory lap. You deserve it." This was very hard for me to accept, but he was right.

I think it starts with learning to answer "YES" to all the questions about what we deserve. This means allowing ourselves to be happy, which is hard for many of us. It was very hard for me, too. Once I accept that I deserve something, I will put effort toward it with the assumption that I should have it, that achieving it is a natural outcome that I should expect. The sad part is that if I think I don't deserve something, I won't make any effort toward it since it seems impossible to achieve.

Back to the topic of wealth. For many people, including me, not growing up wealthy leads to an unconscious bias that wealth is not a birthright, not something we deserve. "The Good Life" is for other people. It's for the beautiful people we see on TV or in magazines, not us. The truth is that financial security and wealth (as we define it for ourselves) is a human birthright which we all deserve. By educating ourselves (education is also something we all deserve) we enable ourselves the power to decide how we allocate our resources (time/money/effort) to maximize our personal benefit. As Guro Jan Sorensen has pointed out in his excellent blog, Learn Fire, it is not a get-rich-quick sexy scheme. In fact, it is a careful, methodical process. Because of this, it works every time. There is really no luck involved, although luck might accelerate the process. If you follow the rules, you achieve wealth. That's it.

So why do I teach martial arts? Martial arts training instilled in me the confidence to believe in myself. Cycle after cycle, test after test, belt after belt, I proved to myself that if I trusted the process, my teachers, my training partners, I would improve and ultimately achieve my goals. This started in the dojo but later extended to every aspect of my life. Martial arts has allowed me to have the life I deserve. I am wealthy in every single way I measure. I am successful in my definition of success, which is all that matters. I am happy. I am happy because I deserve to be. I deserve a good life and all the things I associate with that. So do you. SO DO YOU.

Now, what are you going to do about it?  

  

Running Away

 

(thanks for the inspiration RLH)

I love a good conversation more than just about anything. If you know me, you know I'm not much for small talk. I like to ask questions, sometimes hard questions, and discuss the answers. I don't mind being asked hard questions, either. I'm curious about just about everything, and at 58 I realize how little I actually know. I want to know more. Facts are fun, of course, but I really want to know more about people - their hopes, dreams, motivations, fears, desires and aspirations. I want to understand what makes us human.

This question started with the premise that my conversation partner would be honest in their answer. They would give the question the consideration it deserves and respond thoughtfully. I hoped it would open the door to much deeper conversation. It did.

The question was "What are you running away from?"

I asked it because I believe we are all running away from something, whether we acknowledge that or not. We all have something we dread or dislike, something we did or know we must do, something we fear or loathe or regret. We are all running away from something. Running away from our past or our future. Some of us never stop running. 

After a reflective pause, the answer came. "I'm running away from my self-doubt.", he said. "I'm running away from the feeling that I'm not as good as those around me. They know it and they make me feel bad about it. It erodes my self-confidence every time I think about it or am reminded of it. I don't want to think about it but I'm forced to face it every day."

Gut punch.

"That's me, too." , I replied. I grew up underweight, with ADHD, a lazy eye and a mop of unruly hair; Thick, broken glasses held together with masking tape, bad at everything. An outcast. Bullied at school relentlessly for more than 10 years. Unable to afford a top-tier education and yet competing with the best in the world in places like JP Morgan and Microsoft. I have spent most of my life feeling like an imposter, and being reminded of it almost every single day. Married to a beautiful woman who manages to find a reason to love me even when I cannot love myself. Father to boys who are already far greater than I could ever be. Even in martial arts, surrounded by some of the best in the world, wondering how any of them could think I belong among them, questioning why they would ever accept someone like me as one of their own. Every day feeling like I am living on borrowed time and waiting for the bill to come. They say you should "fake it till you make it", but what if you never actually do "make it"? Can you fake it forever??

As the conversation went on it became clear that, although he often felt like he wasn't good enough, and constantly wanted to escape being made to feel that way,  he didn't give up. Day after day he managed to do the work, the painstaking, hard work of showing up for himself every day and putting in the effort it took to keep making progress. Never giving up. Never running away even though every fiber of his body screamed for him to do so. Quietly gritting his teeth and bearing the pain.

He has wisdom. Maturity. Resilience. Patience. These are very hard to measure but they are the measure of a man. Maybe the only true test of bravery we have is whether or not we can feel fear and stand fast.  Whether or not we can resist the overwhelming urge to run away from the things that trouble us. Bravery is facing your fear. Bravery is wanting to run away, but standing strong regardless. Doing what must be done even when you are unsure of the outcome. 

I learned so much about him that day. I think I also learned a lot about myself. It was the conversation I hoped it would be.

How about you? What are you running from?

What baking bread can teach us about martial arts

 

Like many people, baking bread was one of the hobbies I picked up during COVID. I’ve written about cooking before, especially the fact that recipes are more like guidelines than rules and that they need to be adjusted based on the circumstances.

As I started my baking journey, I began with a vision of how I wanted to be - happily enjoying my home-baked bread with a sense of satisfaction, gifting my bread to envious friends and colleagues.

Along the way, my vision changed. I practiced weekly, and it became more about learning every aspect and variable rather than showing off the results. I read dozens of recipes and watched dozens of videos. I took classes and listened to experts, gathering tips and best practices. Over time, the movements became second nature - deliberate but relaxed and easy. No stress. No shortcuts. Honest. I spent about 2 years working just on baguettes - I’m sure I baked more than a hundred loaves. After I got more confident, I stopped looking up the recipe beforehand because I knew it by heart. Eventually, I tried a few other shapes and loaves. Each one gave me new insights and perspectives. 

In the end, the journey was wonderful. I discovered joy in the routine and looked forward to each weekend’s tests. I never worried much about the mistakes. There were many but I ate them anyway and tried to learn from them.

I’m the baker I was meant to be. Not a master but comfortable and confident in what I make. It won’t win any gold medals, but my bread is just right for we who eat it. My family and friends think it’s some amazing talent but I know the truth - it was consistent focused practice that developed this skill. I wasn’t born with it. I learned it. Anyone else could, too.

Hopefully this story reminds of you of life in the martial arts. The joy of discovery and accomplishment. The personalization and ownership. The value of good, honest practice and repetition in your training. The importance of good instruction and using lots of different training tools. The satisfaction of progress. The comfort of going at your own pace and setting your own expectations. 

I think I’ll always be a baker. Just like I’ll always be a martial artist. They are no longer things I do. They’re part of who I am.

See you at class. 

Accidentally on Purpose

 

We have a few WhatsApp groups dedicated to sharing among the Kali Majapahit group leaders, black belt instructors and students worldwide. Recently, our group called "Beyond Martial Arts - The Health Journey" began a new twist courtesy of Guro David in Finland (he is the source of many good ideas). Various instructors would each own the group and provide content for 1-2 weeks after which they would then nominate the next leader and pass the baton. As expected, eventually my turn came around.

I was nervous since the prior instructors were able to deliver very insightful, impactful content including mind, body and spiritual alignment. I was struck (and still am) by the depth and breadth of knowledge among Kali Majapahit instructors. Their insights are amazing and they are truly an elite martial arts organization. Often, I have to pinch myself and wonder whether or not I am truly worthy to be part of the team. Imposter syndrome is real.

For my 7 days I presented some fundamentals of zen, which has been a cornerstone of my practice and my life since my first introduction to it in my original dojo at 14 years old. After a few years of study in my original school,  I began attending the weekly Zazen (seated meditations) classes at the Japan Cultural Center on Belmont in downtown Chicago. An hour lecture followed by an hour sitting practice, usually followed by breakfast nearby at Ann Sather, (I highly recommend you to get the Swedish pancakes with lingonberries - you're welcome). Later on, I continued my research and study led by PG Fred Evrard, whose knowledge of the esoterism in general and Tibetan Buddhism in particular was exceptional.

I wanted to focus on core zen teachings, which are truly non-sectarian. You can incorporate the essence of zen into any religious or spiritual practice to enhance it and develop a richer and deeper appreciation and feeling of gratitude. Used properly, zen allows us to truly examine our lives in a state of mindfulness, discovering more meaning and purpose in how we live every day. The practice is difficult, but I think the insight is worth it.

My sessions have a short explanation of an aspect of Zen together with a meditation exercise to try at home. I really hope it was able to help participants sharpen their meditation skills and reconnect with the important practice of seeking stillness in the hectic modern world.  It was a pleasure to record the videos with my son Ray and they were basically all done on the first take. I'm happy with them even though there may be a few mistakes (done is better than perfect).

Recording these sessions had me consider very deeply the idea of "purposefulness" which is a very important foundation of zen practice. By examining our thoughts and actions closely, we seek to align them to have a greater sense of deliberation in how we live every day. This sense of purposefulness empowers us and helps us feel that our actions are more meaningful, since if we choose what we do our actions are more connected to our missions and goals rather than just being occurrences of random happenstance or coincidence.

I began to realize that for most people, there is no great, overarching plan to their lives. Apart from the big milestones of graduating from school, getting a job and finding a partner, most of us give surprisingly little thought to how we spend our time. Very often, our routines are dictated by others (boss/family/friends) and are managed on a daily/weekly granularity that makes it difficult to plan years and decades in advance for who we want to be and how we want to live. Humans are creatures of habit and inertia, and as such we repeat the patterns as days and weeks become years. As the clock ticks and the calendar turns, it becomes increasingly difficult to have the will to change. In latter life, change is inevitably thrust upon us as those around us begin to age and die, and ultimately, so do we. Caught up in the lives of our children, we may forget to drive change and develop purposefulness in our own lives, too.

Zen offered me a way to organize my thinking about how I wanted to live and what was important to me. I know Guro Fred would remind me that those things were meant to happen anyway (Karma), but I think being aware of them and trying to choose how I use my time and my life has made a big difference in making sure I find time for the things that really matter to me. As such, at 58, I have little regret and I think I am doing what I am supposed to be doing, in accordance with my beliefs and needs.

I hope you will not live your life by accident, but rather take the time and do the work required to develop the awareness or your journey as it is happening day by day. I hope your life will become "accidentally on purpose" and you are able to enjoy both the spontaneous and the planned, moment by moment, so that at the end you will feel that the effort and struggle was really worth it, grateful for the memories of a life well-lived. Zen can be a good tool to help you appreciate each moment, and to find a much deeper sense of purpose and value in the divine gift your life is. Savor the moments.

See you at class.

Endings and Beginnings

 

4 years ago at the old dojo. Good times. Good people. I remember this night like it was yesterday. We had just finished a cycle and after the testing the mood was high and everyone was happy. They had worked hard for the past 3 months, showed their skills and were graded and validated. They passed. They progressed. It was wonderful.

4 years later I'm the only one in the picture still training. What happened?? Life happened. People change. They move, get married, switch careers, have children. Priorities change. There are lots of distractions on the Path. I understand. Really, I do. Perhaps better than most after 44 years on this journey. I think the real difference is whether or not a person finds their way back to the Path. If it is (or was) important enough to remain a priority. Some find their way back. Some don't. When they don't, we usually don't get to know the reason. It remains a mystery. They just...disappear. Sometimes even kasamas and black belts disappear. It happens.

At the beginning of their journey maybe it was a passing curiosity; a desire to feel safe or to be better or to challenge something a bit out of the ordinary gym/yoga/pilates/crossfit cocktail that many people are into nowadays. Then, hopefully it became a fascination. It became a thing to look forward to every week, an escape from the mundane eat/work/sleep pattern that we knew was better than just binge-watching shows on streaming. The culture, the movement was intriguing and the community was welcoming. A bunch of people discovering together.

Maybe it got to the point where they understood that the habit of going to the dojo yields benefits other types of training do not. Maybe they discovered that this was the key to creating the version of success they really wanted. The dojo became an obsession - a need to link effort and outcome to build a future where we can be truly, authentically, fearlessly ourselves. The dojo, the community became central to our lives as a place to grow and improve, a habit as cemented as brushing our teeth. This is what happened to me. In the end, there was really no place I would rather be than the dojo.

Or maybe not.

Maybe somewhere along the way the message simply didn't land. 

As a teacher this is what I think about all the time. Did I fail them? Did they fail themselves? Is it even a failure at all? Did their training serve its purpose even if they didn't continue? Could I have done more/done differently to help them understand the value of consistent training and of honoring the commitment to self improvement that lies at the heart of martial arts and the Path? 

I'm grateful for the opportunity to do what I do and for the trust placed in me by my students to be a worthy guide on the Path and to faithfully give my very best every single lesson for them - to make sure it is always about them and never about me. That said, I always feel a bit sad when students stop training, despite the reason. I worry that maybe I failed them.

If this is you, dear student, remember that I will always be here for you and ready to accept you back when you are ready. I promise to remain open to your feedback and not to let ego get in the way of helping you get what you need from your training. I hope your experience will have been a positive one and that it will leave you a better person than you were when you started. That is all.

No student "owes" their teacher anything except to do their best when they come to class. We are lucky to be here and to have this time together for as long as it lasts. For my part, I hope the day I die I will have taught a class - that I am doing this thing I love until my very last breath. I hope that I can be of service and be useful to others along this journey.  I hope I can inspire them to invest effort in themselves to become who they want to be and to build their version of success because they are not afraid to live life on their own terms. If I can do that, even for just one person, then it was all worth it.

See you in January