I’ve never been much of a sports guy, which has surprised most folks through the years by even more so when it comes up that I study the martial arts. “So, you ARE into sports…” No… No, I’m really not. But the distinction between martial arts and sports is a discussion for a different day. At this point in my life, I’m slowly starting to forget a time when I didn’t study karate and use it in my daily life in some way, shape or form. Karate, along with its consistent training and lessons, has sustained my health, made my Type-1 Diabetes more manageable and allowed me to defend myself and others, both in my personal and professional life, more times than I can measure. But the irony, especially when my studies come up in conversation, is that there’s really only one aspect that people always seem to focus on; my belt. For the most part, the same question is posed by everyone I cross paths with, even if it’s just conversation. “Oh, so, are you a black belt?”
A karate black belt is a quasi-magical thing for non-practitioners. For the most part, they believe that a black belt is the pinnacle of mastery, the top level, the “be-all-and-end-all” of karate. In truth, a black belt is really only just the beginning. The many, many years of training that preceded achieving black belt level was really just the beginning. And don’t kid yourself; it should take many, many years. And testing for your shodan is traditionally, a student’s way to formally ask their Sensei to teach them karate. But when people hear or know you have one, they assume you’re deadly, you’re a master at your respective style and that no one should rock your proverbial boat, for fear of gettin’ an ass whoopin’. I mean, the latter could have some element of truth, I suppose, if one has little or poor control over their temper. But again, this is a separate issue.
But most of that is smoke and mirrors. For the most part, and even if you train traditionally and hard, there will gaps. An important lesson to life, in order to remain humble AND because it could potentially save your life is a self-defense scenario, is that there’s will always be someone with more skill, more speed, more strength… The key is to be the best YOU can be, and continue to build upon yourself and improve. Your progress is no one else’s but your own, and holding a standard based on to color of your belt may hinder you more than help. For myself, promoting to black belt was one of the best days of my life. But it would prove to be just the first step in the next phase of my martial arts training. Many aspects of my training quickly turned to the philosophical, examined the why, almost as much as the how. I began looking at why we do techniques the way we do and learning how to impart that development on others, as opposed to simply mirroring what’s been done by Sensei for all the years that preceded my black belt.
Becoming a black belt is about more than status, prestige and the various “oohs” and “ahhs” you may get from folks. It’s about genuinely learning the art, researching the background, the material and the specifics behind how things were developed and why they continue to be used in the manner they are. The history of one’s style and how it came about, is at least as important as your ability to throw a punch or block a kick (although by black belt, you won’t last long if you can’t do those particular things). And in truth, I’ve seen and trained with many people who wore a black belt who could barely keep up or hold their own. And that’s kind of the key takeaway and the point of this post. It’s rarely about the rank. It’s almost always unilaterally about the drive and skill you develop. Unless you’re in a damn McDojo and you’re looking at someone who’s trained for two or three years and already has shodan around their waist.
People love the concept of a black belt and usually see it as the achievement to strive for. This is true of non-practitioners and practitioners alike. But the reality is much more difficult to accept. The belt around your waist says nothing of what your actual skill level is. Do you know what does? YOUR ACTUAL SKILL LEVEL!!! You, and only you, know how your training is going, what level you’re at and what improvements you need. And no doubt your Sensei. They should likely know what level you’re at, too. But when someone expresses fascination at your black belt, or asks how good you are, it’s important not to feed the perception. Typically, when I’ve been told comments like “Wow, you must be pretty good, huh?” Or, “You’ve been training that long? You must definitely be a black belt…” My usual response will simply be that I am what I am, and I am only as good or skilled as I will allow myself to be.
And that’s the big secret behind karate. It’s not about the specific style or what rank you hold. It’s about how hard you work, how much of your blood, sweat and tears you put into it, and how hard you’re willing to push yourself in order to keep moving forward. One’s martial arts journey is a never-ending one. As long as your lungs still draw breath, the learning isn’t over. So, don’t gush over someone being a black belt. For all you know, their belt may mean nothing, they may lack the skill that movies and mainstream media have suggested that rank carries, or they may have bought the belt at the thirst store and have no training at all. Smoke and mirrors. If you want to know whether a practitioner, regardless of rank, has any reasonable skill, talk to them. Ask them about their teaming, their background, their techniques. The knowledge and confidence with which they discuss it will tell you far more than a colored piece of cotton across one’s mid-section. Am I proud to be a black belt? In some ways. But mostly, I’m humbled that I was able to push myself and make it to this point through. My own efforts. My karate is my karate, and will never change. The color of the belt means little. And at the end of the day, the belt is really just there to hold your gi in place. Good for thought…☯️
The Blogging Buddhist 