Don't Eat the Plate

Strange experience this week: One of my best friends and long-time training partners told me that he has decided to stop teaching and practicing karate altogether. Even though he is one of the most naturally gifted martial artists I know – and a wonderful instructor, too – he is closing down his dojo, and he is directing his students to seek out and train with other instructors. Wow.

The weird thing is, I saw this coming, and I'm not surprised at all. I've been training with my friend for 20 years, and I know him well. I know he didn't burn out. He didn't get injured. And he didn't do anything stupid that would put him in the newspaper in a bad light. No, nothing like that at all. His rationale for leaving karate behind was far more simple. And much more complex at the same time.

My friend realized that his walk on the martial path no longer served a purpose in his life. He felt strongly that karate had taught him all the lessons that he needed. All of the physical training, the tactics, the strategy – they no longer called to him. The time had come for him to move on to another path. So he just decided to stop walking the one he was on. (And I know it wasn't an easy decision.)

I guess it's sort of like when you're pleasantly full at the end of a good meal, you don't get yourself another helping, and you don't eat the plate. You simply put down your fork, neatly fold your napkin, thank the cook, and excuse yourself from the table.

I am sad that my friend no longer walks the martial path with me, but I understand. I am extremely grateful for having had such wonderful company during my journey. So I support my friend, and I wish him well.