Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Reflecting, on working out . . ..

It's odd.

I've just had a sudden urge, a want to punch something.

Not so much a "punch-something-because-I'm-angry", mind you, but more of a "hit-something-because-it-was-routine".

I guess I just miss doing . . . what? What am I missing?

Am I missing the simple act of punching? The machismo of the act? The tactile response that I receive from my hands? Or is it the routine that surrounds itself?

It's not that I miss the whole thing altogether; sure, I've been wildly inconsistent recently, but I'm very satisfied with the Judo Dojo I've joined, and I'm going to be consistent, I swear! It's definitely not that.

Being in a reflective mood, it makes me think of several things; what it is, this "martial art" that I've been long obsessive about?

This may be a stereotypical nod that many practitioners would take (and I'm a stereotypical guy, mind you), but I don't like that term. "Martial arts". Psshhh, what a farce. A farce in that it's both a caricature of what it is and something that may be much more, at least to me.

Thinking back, I'm somewhat stuck not so much on the styles that I've taken, but more towards the relationships built around this institution that I chose to partake in, and as with everyone else that has been in any relationships; the mistakes made and the triumphs.

I've made mistakes both as an instructor, pushing the students past their limits; as a friend, being callously bigoted, or hypocritical, at times; as a mentor, crossing boundaries which, in retrospect, I was the one taking advantage of a situation and should never have taken.

What leaves me in awe is that those same people would have the quality of character and patience to put up with mistake after mistake that I make and still be there, sometimes in the dojo, sometimes socially; hell, sometimes out in a shopping mall never expecting to see each other.

I've thought about listing some of the names of instructors, mentors, students and others I've had the luck of meeting, but they know who they are; and what's significant right now, half a world away, is that I would consider them friends, and if I'm lucky enough, they would consider me theirs.

Before I go overboard and crying about puppies and flowers; I will stop - consider this, however, an apology to those who deserve it and to everyone that I met inside the dojo, a sincere thank you.

I'm out, and yeah, I can be a sappy SOB sometimes. Now I gotta punch something. For machismo.

1 comment:

Lalique said...

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greetings from Turkey

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