My martial arts training is back in full swing this week. On Monday, I led a tough physical workout and combined it with a kata seminar, and on Wednesday I completed three hours of pretty intense training in the dojo. (There was a wee bit of snow shovelling in there somewhere this week, too.) I took Tuesday and Thursday off from training for physical recovery. As it turns out, I did catch a little bit of the "Gould family bug" at the tail end of last week, so I've been very dehydrated and more than a little groggy.
I have no idea how many pushups, box jumps, crunches, and form repetitions I've done this week, but I know it's been an awful lot. I'm sore. Not too much so, but enough to know I that while I'm making progress, I have some work ahead if I'm to get in the kind of shape I want to be in.
I love digging an old kata "out of the vault of my mind," dusting it off, and working on it. To me, practicing a kata that I haven't done in years is like catching up with an old friend. "Well hey there! How have you been? My, you haven't changed a bit! I really miss you, old friend — You know, we really ought to hang out more often..."
My new "old friend" is Itosu Lohai Shodan — It's the first kata in a series of three versions of the kata Rohai (a.k.a. "vision of a crane") created by Itosu Anko (1831 - 1915) from the form that he learned from Matsumura Sokon, It's a very short and relatively simple form, but it's fun and full of fighting spirit. (I'll try to get it on film in the next week or so.)
Reconnecting with my long-ignored kata, I think, is a parallel for the other important connections in my life that I should re-establish and strengthen. I'm beginning to see that maintaining an important relationship is like keeping a kata sharp: If you don't put some work into it, it will deteriorate. But the more you practice your kata — or your relationships — with sincere effort, attention, and mindfulness, the more beautiful they can become.
Put effort into your forms, and your forms will improve. Put effort into your relationships, and they'll improve too. Sounds pretty simple, doesn't it? In the martial arts and in life, "simple" isn't always "easy," but this is where my work lies: Just do the simple, hard things.
So my life is my new kata practice. I'm sure I won't always be perfect, but I'm working at it.
I have no idea how many pushups, box jumps, crunches, and form repetitions I've done this week, but I know it's been an awful lot. I'm sore. Not too much so, but enough to know I that while I'm making progress, I have some work ahead if I'm to get in the kind of shape I want to be in.
I love digging an old kata "out of the vault of my mind," dusting it off, and working on it. To me, practicing a kata that I haven't done in years is like catching up with an old friend. "Well hey there! How have you been? My, you haven't changed a bit! I really miss you, old friend — You know, we really ought to hang out more often..."
My new "old friend" is Itosu Lohai Shodan — It's the first kata in a series of three versions of the kata Rohai (a.k.a. "vision of a crane") created by Itosu Anko (1831 - 1915) from the form that he learned from Matsumura Sokon, It's a very short and relatively simple form, but it's fun and full of fighting spirit. (I'll try to get it on film in the next week or so.)
Reconnecting with my long-ignored kata, I think, is a parallel for the other important connections in my life that I should re-establish and strengthen. I'm beginning to see that maintaining an important relationship is like keeping a kata sharp: If you don't put some work into it, it will deteriorate. But the more you practice your kata — or your relationships — with sincere effort, attention, and mindfulness, the more beautiful they can become.
Put effort into your forms, and your forms will improve. Put effort into your relationships, and they'll improve too. Sounds pretty simple, doesn't it? In the martial arts and in life, "simple" isn't always "easy," but this is where my work lies: Just do the simple, hard things.
So my life is my new kata practice. I'm sure I won't always be perfect, but I'm working at it.