ascension through thunder

after writing the last post, i feel i need to write another one. i forget how phrases like “knife-hand chop to the throat” sound when you come upon them outside of the context where you train. you come home, hot from training, fresh out of the shower, body full of rushing blood and endorphins diving, and write about it all. not only that, but i often reference the traumatic stew of emotions that led me initially to train in the first place….and reading back, i feel the impression is incomplete. i don’t want to do the art i practice a disservice by reducing it to only those elements. those are not the largest elements.

not that i’m trying to deny anything integral to taekwondo. it is a martial art, after all. not a corporate art, not a performance art, not a musical art. it is about fighting, specifically! but the joy definitely does not rest there. anyone can practice hurting people, and there is nothing uplifting about that. damn, any good kung fu movie will teach you that much. there is a spiritual core to true martial art instruction and practice, and that experience has enthralled me since the first days i began training.

the reason you can end up laughing with friends as you train is because the idea of doing violence to someone, even in the name of defending yourself, is not what this is about when you train. or if it is what it is about (because it’s hard to deny that, actually), it’s not the mood of things.

training becomes about technique, and how beautiful yours can become. it’s about treating your body and your world and your neighbors with love. it is about engaging yourself and confronting your comfort zones and pushing far past them. it is about the beauty of this art form at its highest. and what you strive toward. it’s about marveling at abilities you never had (really! you never did!) and that you came about through trusting a master of an art to teach and guide you along a path that challenges you to rise. that you gained by pushing yourself harder and harder, and making progress. (my belief in masters does not conflict with my feelings about knowing life through your own fingers and eyes and experiences. someone’s mastery of something can be quite evident. it can be something you want for yourself. and there are lessons passed down for thousands of years that speak for themselves, and the worth of learning them.) in this case, studying under a master is not about subjecting yourself to disrespect or abuse. don’t confuse this with an “authority” in the everyday world. it is simply about learning, and trust. about openness, and humility, and respect.

in conversation the other day with herm, i said (half jokingly) that the reason belts are given is simply to break up the entire body of knowledge that is a martial art. how daunting would it be to ask about martial arts, seeing someone demonstrating them, and be told “if you study with me for ten years, then you may be able to attain a basic mastery. to master it at my level, you’ll need to study 40 years, and then only if you work very, very hard.”  not that this isnt a perfectly fine answer to give, and not that the truth ought to be made palatable for those not willing to dedicate themselves or sweat for a goal, but yeah. that would be daunting. that’s part of what makes a martial art amazing. when you look at all that goes into learning even one simple poomsae*: the directions you turn, the position of each hand that blocks or strikes, the posture, the glide as you move, the proper targeting of a punch, the sequence…it takes weeks of practice to even remember all the parts, and then weeks longer to perfect it all. add up all the poomsae you have to remember and perfect on your way to blackbelt. add all the one-steps. add the kicks themselves…add the control you gain, the respect you gain, the balance, the power…it simply is a massive body of knowledge to have. it’s a long, arduous effort to gain a collection of amazing techniques…and more. a new self.

then you see someone demonstrate what took them all those years to perfect and it looks simply impossible to perform. so it’s nice to have markers along the way! the belts indicate increments of your mastery. and as all symbols ought to, they communicate much very simply.

of course, in the end, regardless of what color belt you wear, the kind of martial artist you are is up to you. the level of mastery or beauty you attain in your form is a combination of your will, your dedication, your natural genetic and physical capabilities, and how much love you can focus into this path. and consequently, i think what each belt means to you will reflect how much love and devotion you spent getting there.

when you are in that place of striving to be the best you can at this art, the idea of doing violence is remote. even as you let your consciousness flow through your muscles and bones in order to execute each move with grace and power and balance; even as you perform each move so that it is the most effective—and yes—devastating, it is about much more. in those spaces, you are not battling with aggressors, you are looking yourself face to face. you are challenging yourself to do better, and your spirit is responding in the positive.

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* poomsae/forms are the “fight/dances” as i think of them. an artistically-rendered sequence of strikes, blocks, stances, kicks that are joined by a meaning and performed with the energy of that meaning such as “fire” or “thunder” or “heaven and light.” they face north, south, east, and west in their phases. they simulate fighting off attackers from all angles, but are basically meant to condition, train, and familiarize you with the collection of moves, not to be used themselves in combat .