Happy St. Patrick’s Day!In all honesty, I don’t believe I have Irish roots but one really never knows. My father was adopted and it’s thought that our background through his adoptive family included some Scottish and British. My father has been VERY red-headed throughout his entire life, as was I until about five or six years’ old when my hair darkened closer to my mother’s, so who knows? Without wanting to be stereotypical with the redhead thing, people get surprised by their ancestry. But I digress…
Saint Patrick’s Day is an Irish holiday (obviously) held on March 17th that was originally observed to celebrate Saint Patrick, one of the foremost patron saints of Ireland, and the introduction of Christianity in Ireland, In recent times, the day is observed as a way of celebrating the Irish culture in general and usually sees people enjoying parties, festivals, parades and especially the wearing of green clothing. And for anyone who has better information on this holiday, please feel free to hit me up in my Contact Me link and educate me. I’m basically going on what I was told during my childhood and some snippets I’ve read online.
Here in Canada, we have one of the longest-running yearly festival for St. Patrick’s Day on Montreal. My home Province of New Brunswick also sees St. Patrick’s Day as a way of celebrating for an entire week. one can usually see a host of fun activities such as drinking green beer and enjoying traditional Irish meals. As you can see from the photo above, I’ve opted to observe by wearing a green tie to work. That’s about as far as my observance goes since my partying days are long behind me (and because they never existed).
Here’s to St. Patrick’s Day! If you’re out and about today and observing the holiday through some “colourful” celebrations, be safe, be reasonable and make certain you get home in one piece. ☘️
I was sitting in my office yesterday and I got up for something, either a washroom break or my tenth coffee of the morning, when I felt my left shoe coming loose. now, if you wear dress shoes as part of your work or even often enough outside of work, you know that most dress shoes are made of leather and once you lace them tightly, the leather grips the lace and holds it in place. But for some reason, my left shoe became loose and the shoe slackened on my foot as I walked.
Upon further examination (a totally fancy way of saying “I checked it out), I realized that the lace had some damage to it. The best way I can describe it, is that it became “gloved.” To clarify, “gloving” is known in forensic circles as the effect of the outer layer of the hand’s tissue being forcefully scraped off to reveal the tissue beneath. Although gross, this is basically what happened to my shoe laces; the outer surface was stripped away, revealing a thinner, finer lace beneath. This finer lace provided no support and couldn’t hold its knot once tied.
I purchased a new set of laces and installed them and the problem was fixed. It also got me examining my shoes, which is not really something one does beyond tying them. I came to realize that I’ve had these shoes for over fifteen years. Made of sturdy, stout leather, they’ve served me well in various functions, events, jobs and activities. And although I know that most people would have likely scrapped them in favour of a newer pair by now, they’re still comfortable, usable and provide excellent support.
Before everyone jumps into my comments section and brings up the fact that I’ve been using a pair of shoes for fifteen years (FYI, my grandfather owned shoes for longer and went through worse than I have), I started thinking about how our world has grown to be a disposable one. Products and items last for shorter periods, usually requiring replacement as the cost of repairing them is usually higher and more time consuming than simply replacing it.
A good example would be computers and smart devices. The vast majority of people in the western world now own a smart device and/or home computer as part of their daily lives. Back in the 1980’s when I first set hands on a computer, they were considered a luxury and not an expected part of the household. But most computers these days last only a certain amount of time before they can no longer be “updated,” even if they still work just fine. This can be frustrating to someone who has spent a significant amount of money on one.
I’ve faced similar issues with my cell phones in recent years, where a phone can longer be updated to current software and stop supporting certain apps and programs as a result. This really sucks, since I’ve kept every previous generation of cell phone I have and they all work. So, if all I needed was an actual cell phone, it’d be fine. When you’re paying a substantial amount for a product designed to perform a bulk number of functions, you won’t be happy if those functions are no longer available.
I’m ranting just a little bit here, and some of you may be wondering where the connection is between replacing my shoe laces and talking about electronics. My point is that, much like my grandfather used to say, “they don’t make ‘em like they used to!” The result of this is that we now exist in a world where it has become easier to throw things away and replace them instead of trying to maintain them. I think it’s important to remember that something trustworthy that serves you up well should have every effort taken to be maintained. Food for thought… ☯️
Today marks the start of Daylight Savings Time, which is something that always fascinated and annoyed me throughout my childhood and into my formative years. After all, this time change involves pushing clocks an hour ahead, which causes the inclusion of a 23-hour day. I’ve had all the same complaints as most people have had regarding losing an hour’s sleep on that particular day.
It wasn’t until I reached the age of adulthood that I understood the concept of maintaining the longest period of natural daylight during waking hours, hence “Daylight Savings” but a part of me failed to see the use behind this since I could work whenever, go to school whenever and what did I care when the evening started?
There is some rationale behind it, including the practicality as[ect that if the sun rises too early it can interfere with proper sleep and the start of the actual day as well as reducing the overall use of candle light during waking hours, back before electricity was a common amenity of households. Interestingly enough, a city in Ontario was the first on in the world to use Daylight Savings Time. It didn’t take long for the majority of the world to follow, with only a few exceptions.
Some places are beginning to see the minimal use in Daylight Savings time and are looking at the prospect of discontinuing it. CTV News posted an article about six months ago about how Ontario is passing legislation that could effectively end Daylight Savings Time in the Province. The very Province where it all started may be the first to end it. I live in Saskatchewan where we’re located in a time zone that isn’t affected by time change. My clocks have remained the same for the past fifteen years.
If Canada as a whole decides to end Daylight Savings Time, I know that one person who will be overjoyed will be my mother. Since she can’t be bothered to change her clocks and her watch every six months, her time pieces are usually only accurate for six months out of the year. Part of that seems like comedy; the other part feels like laziness but hey! Who am I to argue with my mother? Hope y’all didn’t have to lose an hour’s sleep, last night… ☯️
My staff and I have a particular place where we like to spend our coffee breaks. Just a little spot that takes us completely out of the office and away from it for a distance, which allows us to take a walk, get some air and let our heads cool a bit. This location also happens to be surrounded by a number of eateries, many of which I take part of when I forget or neglect to bring lunch to work. In case the description is a bit too vague, I’m describing a food court. We take our coffee breaks at a food court.
A few days ago, we were enjoying a quiet afternoon coffee and chatting about some random things, when I looked up at one of the eateries and noticed a female employee, sitting on a chair near the till. It took me a brief minute and an awkward double take for me to acknowledge that she was picking her nose with the enthusiastic ferocity normally attributed to a seizure. Her index finger was basically buried almost to the second knuckle and I don’t know what she was looking at but she seemed transfixed as she dug for nose gold with a Zen kind of enthusiasm.
I went through the many stages of morbid comedy… Surprise, laughter, judgement and disgust followed by the sudden realization that i occasionally order food there. All of this went through my mind in under a minute and I pointed out the offending party to my colleague, who shared a laugh without any of the disgust that would follow, signalling that he never eats there. I don’t like being sued, so I won’t name the eatery or its exact location but it woke me up to the fact that as pleasant as occasionally eating take out food can be, one really never knows how clean the location one orders from really is.
I don’t really have a point to today’s post. It’s just something that happened that I decided to share. We often see documentaries about cleanliness behind a counter but this was one of the few instances in my life where I actually saw something happening, firsthand. The icing on the cake was when we got up to leave and walked past and the woman in question made eye contact with me and smiled because she recognized me. Awkward. ☯️
Sometimes it can be ridiculously unbelievable how easy it is to get all up inside one’s own head. This can happen a lot, especially if one has something on one’s mind. take work for example… I think we can all agree that working is one of life’s unwanted necessities. After all, a household needs income in order to provide food, clothing, amenities and shelter for the average family. For about 99% of the population, that means leaving the house and going to work in order to earn that income. If you’re lucky, you have a job that not only serves you well and provides said income but that you actually ENJOY. That can make a world of difference in the dynamic of one’s life.
Whether you enjoy your job or not, it can often be hard to keep oneself from dwelling about work at the most inappropriate times. Maybe you’re spending time with your children and your mind is focused on the project you need to complete by deadline or the files you’ll have to complete the following week. Maybe you’re dealing with a situation at work that you have no control over and it’s keeping you awake at night instead of allowing you the rest you need and deserve. This is what I mean by getting into one’s own head. It can be disruptive and damaging, especially since it keeps you from being present in the moment.
There are a lot of things one can do to get past this. Obviously, some people will tend to dwell on things more than others. There are some things that can’t be “fixed,” nor should they be as they constitute who one becomes as a person. But if you find yourself staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night when you should be sleeping because you’re dwelling on something you can’t help in the moment, that’s no good for anyone. Especially if that lack of rest will only work to damage your effectiveness at dealing with the issue that’s on your mind.
It can be difficult and it isn’t without some effort on one’s part but it IS possible to overcome this effect. Making a conscious effort to be present in the moment and focus on what you’re doing outside of the situation on your mind, is the first step. Being involved in various activities and interests during your down time is the follow-up step. For example, I’m a big fan of meditation (if you haven’t guessed). Spending time with one’s children and spouse and investing in that time, as well as getting out of the house and doing something for yourself, are all important parts in keeping focused on the better aspects of life.
It’s great to work hard, have goals and strive for them. But not at the cost of your mind being constantly wrapped around everything NOT happening in the moment. Stop. Take a breath. Do something for yourself. It’s one thing to notice the roses but their beauty is lost if you don’t stop to smell them, every once in a while. Such is the importance of life and will go a long way towards lessening the suffering in one’s life. Food for thought…☯️
There’s no question that death is a part of life. One of the things that allow us to survive as people is the fact that we’re not wired to contemplate death and what comes next, on a minute to minute basis. If we did, we’d accomplish nothing in life as we’d succumb to the feeling that there’s no point. Considering everything happening in the world right now, fate occasionally reminds us that the typical come and go of life is still ongoing; including the passing of lives. I found out yesterday that my Uncle Richard passed away from cancer.
My mother was born as the second of seven children. Richard was not the oldest; in fact, he was among the youngest. Father, grandfather and husband, he was diagnosed with cancer quite some time ago. In recent decades, cancer has practically become the new “natural death,” with so many people developing one type or another. Most members of my family on my mother’s side have overcome cancer at some point, including my grandfather with prostate cancer, my mother with skin cancer and her older sibling who survived what was referred to as terminal.
You could say that the genes on my mother’s side seem to have a way of kicking cancer’s ass. That’s why it came as a surprise when my mother recently told me that Richard was on the final leg of his journey in this life, succumbing to the ravages that cancer brings. It came as a surprise for me since, last I’d heard, he was in remission and was overcoming it. Some weeks had passed before my mother phoned me yesterday afternoon to deliver the bad news. With both of my grandparents already gone, my mother is the de facto matriarch and was busy contacting all the members of the family. I don’t envy her that responsibility.
Richard’s passing has brought a strange shift in dynamic in the family. I’ve recognized for years that I’ve reached a point in my existence where life has started taking away at LEAST as much as it has given. But Richard finds himself as the first one in my family of his generation to pass; a sobering reminder that they’ve potentially reached the point in life where death has become an inevitable consideration. Don’t get me wrong; adults in general have an awareness of death and acknowledge its existence and possibility. But my mother and her siblings are now aware that death has touched them. And as the old saying suggests, the only thing one can’t avoid in life are taxes and death.
Considered to have been a bit of a rebel within the family, he’s always had a soft spot for his family and cared for all of us. I’ve tried my best since yesterday to try and find a photograph of him. No luck. Oh, I’m sure I have a photo of him in a dusty album in my barrack boxes. But nothing in recent years. This is a wake up call for me. Especially since I’ve lived in Saskatchewan for the past fifteen years and he lived in Alberta. We totally would have been in a position to see each other more. Although I make my best to live life without regrets, I can say with firm honesty that realizing I’ll never have the opportunity or took it when I had the chance, is one of them.
Hug your family close and appreciate the time you have with them. Life is short and there’s no guarantee that you’ll know them in the next life. With all the chaos currently happening in the world, more people are losing loved ones than should be. Rest in peace, Uncle Richard. I’ve known pain and sickness all my life but I’m sure yours was worse. Peace and rest are yours, now. I’m sure my brother will greet you at the door. ❤️🙏☯️
“Empty Your Mind, Be Formless, Shapeless, Like Water. Put Water Into A Cup, It Becomes The Cup. Put Water Into A Bottle, It Becomes The Bottle. Put Water Into A Teapot, it Becomes The Teapot. Water Can Flow, Or It Can Crash. Be Water, My Friend.”
– Bruce Lee
I usually take “famous” quotes with grain of salt. In these modern days of the internet and misinformation, you never know when someone may be misquoting. But the above quote from Bruce Lee is Pretty safe, considering I recently acquired his daughter’s book that basically focuses on Bruce Lee’s concepts behind being like water. It’s a pretty decent read, although i haven’t quite finished it yet. But it got me to thinking… One of the bigger obstacles one faces when practicing the martial arts, is the tension people hold in their bodies while training.
In some ways, many ways, one can’t be blamed for tensing up when training in a fighting art. Regardless of one’s experience level, knowing that someone is coming at you with a fist or a foot usually has that effect. But in order to learn properly and develop one’s technique, it’s important to remain flexible and relaxed as you learn. The dojo and/or class environment is a safe space where you can take advantage of developing that POSITIVE muscle memory in a controlled environment. This is hard to achieve when one is all tensed up and inhibiting one’s movements.
Lee’s quote is basically telling you that you need to maintain the flexibility to ensure adaptability in any situation. Issues you can face from this lack of flexibility can include a number of nasty results that you really don’t want to experience in a real-fight scenario. For example, tension may cause one to hesitate. You hesitate in a true fight, you get hit. Period. Tension will aggravate and worsen your “tells,” or your telegraphing. Lack of fluidity and flexibility will cause a hindrance to the free-flow of one’s movement. this isn’t just bad in the dojo; it can be dangerous on the street.
I guess there may be some styles that differ in this view but I haven’t encountered one yet that encourages being tight and tense when training or even fighting. Unlike the rattlesnake that tenses before striking, a karateka must remain fluid and relaxed, allowing muscle memory and skill to take control as opposed to getting into one’s own head. Food for thought… ☯️
Yesterday marked the lifting of all COVID-19 pandemic-related restrictions, here in Saskatchewan. It’s been an interesting run of things, considering that even after two years of wearing a mask, I still occasionally forget to slip one on. Last weekend, Nathan and I went shopping at Walmart and I agreed to get him a happy meal since the location had a McDonald’s. Ironically, he had just received his second dose of the COVID-19 vaccine, so I agreed to reward him with a purchased lunch since I was going to make him sit through doing groceries.
We walked in and I had ordered his food and waited for it, for almost ten minutes. We got his happy meal and I loaded him into the cart so he could eat comfortably. It wasn’t until we walked into the store proper that I realized my face was bare! I was wondering why some people were giving me sideways glances. I had my mask on me, of course. I’m usually in the habit of getting as much fresh air in my lungs as I can before slipping on a mask. In this case, I must have simply forgotten.
The wearing of a mask has long been a debated restriction over the past two years. I write about it now because it was my most disliked. I hate wearing a face mask. I honestly don’t know how medical professionals do it. My hat’s off to them. Considering I’ve found myself having to train and do karate with a face mask, I’m well aware that once the skin gets a bit sweaty, that’s all she wrote! The mask basically sticks against my face like someone trying to choke me with a plastic bag. Not least of which is the fact that wearing a mask makes it difficult for me to wear my glasses. Anyone who wears glasses will totally understand the struggle. I know, I know… First world problems.
The thing is, a face mask will block some particles from spreading. This makes logical sense, since surgical staff wear them to prevent the spread of germs during medical procedures and surgeries. The logical part of my brain understands this. The “semi-logical” part of my brain suggests that it isn’t as overall effective as the professionals may think it is. When was the last time you walked past someone while wearing a face mask and were able to smell their cologne or perfume? Or caught a smell of a local restaurant wafting in your direction through the mask?
This would seem to suggest to me that particles are making their way into my nose, regardless of the mask. This wold SEEM to suggest that if COVID-19 particles are being blown in my direction, I could potentially be breathing them despite having a plate of cotton armour across my face. Doesn’t that make sense? On the flip side, smelling particles known as “odorants” and having active virus particles make their way into your body may be two different things. I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. This post is purely speculative and simply an example of me thinking out loud.
Some believe the lifting of COVID-19n restrictions is too early. Maybe it is. Some believe that we all need to collectively reopen the world and let nature take its course in order to move on with life. Perhaps we will. In the meantime, it will be nice when the impulse to slap on a mask has passed, although I must confess that it’s my intention to continue to carry one with me in my pocket for some time to come. The world isn’t done with this bullshit, yet. Food for thought…☯️
Alright, this post will be a bit of a rant so I’m warning all of y’all to buckle up. Next week, I’m schedule for my bi-yearly visit to my endocrinologist where we examine my state of existence as it relates to Diabetes and how I’m managing. For the most part, I tend to make things pretty boring for my doctor, with level blood test results and a blood glucose log that you could easily cross-country ski on. My last visit, which was back in September, wasn’t as good as previous ones by virtue of having come off of CGM. This was mainly the fault of my insurance company, which put a cap on how much they would cover and I couldn’t see clear to pay the hundreds of dollars each month for them, myself. But I digress…
My point is that for the first time, my A1C’s were off, my blood sugar results weren’t as pretty as usual and I had some ‘splainin’ to do. I always find it hilarious when a doctor picks out one random bad reading off my blood log and asks, “What happened here?” Dude, I have difficulty remembering what I had for breakfast YESTERDAY… You really think I remember why I may have suffered a high or a low at that particular time? And that’s the caveat, that these appointments usually require a bunch of steps on my part prior to showing up. These steps including getting extensive blood work where I’ve been fasting for 10 hours or more as well as uploading my insulin pump to a database, which always seems to be an issue (apparently because I use an MacBook).
One of the biggest issues with visiting my endocrinologist is the need fr scheduled blood work. This blood work needs to be collected no later than 10 days before the appointment but I’ve had instances where I’ve gotten it two full weeks prior and been told that the results were too old. So not only do I have to time it as closely to 10 days as possible, I can’t really get a leg up and do it earlier. Fun times. If you haven’t guess, this post is a rant against getting my blood work done. Like I said, buckle up.
In order to understand my frustrations, we need to go all the way back to the early 80’s, when Diabetes treatment was a joke (at least in my home town) and they still operated on babies without anesthesia because they thought infants felt no pain. Yeah… THAT decade! Anyway, any time I needed blood work, it would always require showing up at the hospital first thing in the morning. There were no other times to get it done. No appointments and no “save my spot.” You needed to show up, get registered and sit and wait. Here’s the clincher: you’d rarely ever wait more than 15 minutes.
Fast forward to February 25, 2022. I was slated to go to a local blood collecting lab, which seems to be the only way to have your blood work done in Regina unless you’re actually admitted in the hospital. And it’s not that this is a new thing. Even just ten years ago, I would STILL go to the hospital to get blood work done in New Brunswick. So, I don’t know what the problem is out here, but I digress… I woke up in the low 3’s, so there was no way in hell I could keep fasting and make it through the inevitable long wait at the blood collection lab.
I bolused with some fast-acting carbs but the damage was done; I had broken my fast and my test results would be tainted. I also felt like a freight truck hit me, so I ended up calling in sick for work. It wasn’t a great day and when i had my levels up, I fell back asleep and surprised myself by waking up past 11 am. I can’t remember the last time that happened and it only happened because my blood sugars bottomed out. Brutal. Anyway, my chances of getting my blood work done was out the window and I faced a unique problem. If I waited until Monday to get the blood work, I would be below the 10-day requirement.
That wouldn’t be a lot but I know it would be enough to elicit comment, especially if the lab didn’t have enough time to analyze the results. Luckily, we live in the modern era and I was able to check online and discover that my closest blood lab was open on Saturdays. Score! It also opened at 7:30 and was open until 3 pm. Bonus! I wouldn’t have to get there at the butt crack of dawn and wait in line in the cold with everyone else in the city who were rushing to get their blood work done. Or so I thought… getting it done on Saturday also meant that it would be over ten days to my appointment but not so long before as to elicit comment. Alright, let’s do this…
Given that it was Saturday morning, I apparently thought it was a good idea not to set an alarm, the night before.I awoke just after 8 am and my first instinct was to grab a can of energy drink and go sit on the couch to enjoy some weekend silence before everyone woke up. But as I made my way to the fridge, some post-sleep clarity kicked in and I remembered my blood work. I grabbed the requisition form, jumped into some clothes and bolted out the door. Everyone was still asleep.
I got to the blood lab and noted that there were two people in line outside the door. This wasn’t as bad as compared to other days but as I stepped out of my car, I noted that a few people were walking towards the line as well. I didn’t want to make a scene by running ahead of anyone, so I continued at a normal pace, which resulted in having four people ahead of me outside instead of two. It was only -16 degrees before the wind factor, which was a lucky thing. Had it been in the -30’s before the windchill, there’d be no human way in hell I’d be standing in line outside.
The time was 8:46 am, which is important to note. Some chairs in the waiting room were empty, which made me wonder why some of us were waiting outside. There were no restriction notices on the door, nor any explanation around why we were made to wait outside like pack animals instead of inside the warm lobby. By the time I got inside the lobby, it was about 9:20 am. Some of the people who got in ahead of me overheard one of the technicians saying it would be at least an hour’s wait. At least four people stood up and indicated they were leaving as they didn’t have an hour to wait. I felt this thinned out the herd and made it so that I cold potentially get through faster. I was wrong.
My name was finally called at about 9:40, almost an hour after I first stood in line. The only consistent part of their process was the truth behind the hour-long wait. Despite being caffeine-free and on an empty stomach, I was surprisingly patient. maybe it was the perspective of seeing everyone else getting angry, frustrated and making a scene, that helped me to recognize how I sometimes tend to fly off the handle. I was ushered into a stall and asked to remove my coat.
Once I was seated, I was still made to wait for fifteen more minutes before a technician came over and mechanically asked for my name and date of birth, followed by drawing the blood and dropping a container in my hands to collect a urine sample. I went and peed in the little cup and walked out of the blood lab at about 10:05 am, ironically right at the moment when my wife asked me what my ETA was. I could sense the tension in the room as I walked out and couldn’t help but feel that there’s got to be a way for this process to be moved along faster.
That first gulp of caffeine went down smooth, like the very nectar of life was infusing my body with the ability to face the day, despite the first couple of hours having elapsed already. I don’t work as a lab technician and I don’t collect blood samples for a living so I can’t put myself in their shoes. But from the outside perspective looking in, it seems to the common person that this process can see that there should be something done to make the process smoother and quicker. The only saving grace is that my next appointment will likely be in September and waiting outside won’t be such a big deal. Small favours… ☯️
Yesterday, I wrote a post about dojo code of conduct and the etiquette that should be observed, regardless of what school you’re in or visiting. It’s a post I’ve written a few times over the past few years, because the concept never changes for me and merits being revisited. Plus, it’s always a good idea to provide information to potential new readers who may not have the time or motivation to read through almost 1,100 of my posts. yes, I may be bragging just a wee bit. I may be full of myself but honestly, who else would I be full of? But I digress…
When I covered a point related to not wasting your instructor’s time, I explained the concept that one shouldn’t JUST be training in the dojo. Although I kept it short (short by MY standards, of course), I think the concept merits further examination. When it comes to something like karate, it’s important to remember that it takes a greater commitment than attending a few classes a week. Although you MAY progress by doing this, the speed and level of your progress would be greatly improved by taking the time to train by yourself, outside the dojo.
When I joined karate, we had three, two-hour classes scheduled every week on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It was a good spread and I almost always consistently attended all three classes. Over the years, I began to notice a trend where most students would only attend two out of three classes each week, with Friday being the most popular class to miss by virtue of the weekend arriving. For me, Friday was an easier night to train since I didn’t have the burden of homework to concern me before bed. But these absences eventually led to Sensei cancelling out the Friday classes, much to my dismay. I was lucky enough that one of Sensei’s black belts had opened a school of her own nearby and one of her classes happened to be on a Friday.
One of my many quirks (others call them quirks, I call it commitment) that made me somewhat unpopular among my friends, especially when I started dating, was the fact that I would attend class NO MATTER WHAT. This would often be a pain to others, especially during the warmer seasons when we’d be out swimming or sitting around a fire. “Oh, you can miss one class… We’re chillin’ here…” Chill away, lazy folks! Imma go build on my foundation. It sounds like I’m bragging and maybe on some level I am. The point is that I understood, even at a young age that I wouldn’t get to where I wanted to be or have the level of health I wanted to achieve by skipping out on class every time something fun presented itself.
The other problem is that I’d constantly be referencing karate or practicing outside the dojo. Again, others called it a problem; I called it commitment. If we hung out at the beach, I’d soon find myself doing forms on the sand. If we were on a road trip, I’d be using a hand grip strengthener to work my fingers and my grip. That used to drive my friends crazy, especially since I was usually the one driving. If homework was light and it WASN’T a karate night, I was still putting in a couple of hours in my bedroom or I’d go jogging or speed cycling. Anything and everything I could do to improve and increase my overall health and karate development.
It wasn’t always easy. In some ways, a lot of ways, I missed out on a lot of experiences that are considered a right of passage to some. I didn’t go to my prom. I never partied or drank alcohol as a teenager. I never travelled or participated in extra-curricular activities. I just never had the time. I always doing karate. It took me a little over ten years to achieve my black belt, even with that level of intensity and commitment. Of course, there were a number of differences between Sensei’s dojo and many of the ones you see now. Asking to be tested was not permitted; it was up to Sensei to deem when you’d be ready and to test accordingly. And a decade is pretty average in terms of obtaining a black belt in a traditional form of martial arts.
The lesson here is that there really isn’t a bad reason for joining karate, unless your reason is to beat the shit out of someone. So ultimately, if you attend your few classes every week, get a solid sweat in and learn anything, you’ll have still accomplished something. And anything is always something more than nothing. But if you truly want to learn the art, progress and grow into a proficient martial artist, it’ll take more than that. Time is one of the world’s most precious commodities. It the only one we can’t artificially produce or created more of. Giving of your own time is the greatest commitment you can make towards your martial arts journey. And it will eventually yield the best rewards. ☯️
The Blogging Buddhist 