Graduation

I wonder if there's something the Ten Tigers should do at graduation? Not that it's a wise question for me to ask, since I don't do performance well (and I think at least one of my teammates feels the same). Still, there may be some potential there ... Any ideas?

"Mommy died."

Those are the words first said to me as I walked into my uncle's house last night.  "I know." was my response.  During the last class I taught last night, my wife answered the phone and took a message for me to call my dad.  After classes were over I called and got the message that my cousin had died of a gunshot wound.  We don't know the whole story on how or why, but that is all irrelevant compared to the simple fact that a young woman was alive one morning, and not the next.  

As I type this I'm still dealing with the mix of emotions.  I looked at my own daughter and had a flash of imagining what it would mean to lose her.  I looked again and imagined what it would be like for her to lose her mother.

My wife and I drove out to my uncle's house.  I knew there was not anything we could do, but I felt that it might help if I could be there.  My uncle was still able to joke between crying.  My aunt was more obviously shaken.  Their friends were there, their pastor was there, they had support.  They will make it through, they will carry on.  It will be hard, but nobody ever promised us life was going to be easy.

This is a reminder to me that every, every life should be cherished and respected.  There are some who have no love for others because their skin is too dark, or too light.  There are some who can't seem to love someone because they are too religious or not religious enough.  There are those of us who just can't seem to get over the differences between us and others.  All of us at one time or another, find some person that for some reason we just can't like.

My father said to me once when I was young and very angry with my sister, "God doesn't tell you that you have to like your sister."  I was shocked.  Then he said, "But you do have to love her."

I challenge you my ten tigers teammates, and anyone else who finds these words.  Find that person that for some reason irritates you.  Whether you have good reasons to dislike them, no reasons to dislike them, or some reason that you just haven't figured out, find a way to love them.  Because that person you work with, or train with, or commute with, should be cherished and respected.  That person is someone's mommy or daddy, son or daughter, brother or sister, and someday they will die and they will be missed.  

What Spreadsheets Reveal

When the program began, I never thought I'd get behind. Daily pushups/situps – pish, I already did them. Walking some each day – no worries. Read a good book or two – even better. Journal regularly – absolutely already a habit ...

Turns out, I was fitting things in as it suited me, as I had time, and telling myself how structured I was. When it's in a spreadsheet, and I have to make a notation for each item ... those zeros are surprising. What? I didn't walk anywhere for a week? Read? I want to read my fantasy novels. Write? I can't think of anything to say.

So each little thing turns out to be a struggle. A day goes by so quickly. Mine aren't as full as others' are, and I begin to see where I could be more focused. I'm having a hard time fitting in the ordinary practice I'd like to do on the current forms, such as spear vs. sword. I'm behind in stances. I'm behind in miles walked. I'm two Gung Gees short of a full load...

No Tiger Left Behind

Feb. 28th our group workout will be a "no tiger left behind" day.  I would like to know, as it stands at this moment, what everyone is behind on.  Some of you may be completely up to date.  I for one am behind on bag rounds.

Struggles

The hardest part of this for me so far, is on some days all the other demands in my life seem to outweigh my ten tigers work.  On those days I keep putting off my training, putting off the stances and the pushups and the forms until the end of the day.  Then I get overwhelmed with the idea of trying to play catch up that night, or the next day.  It seems to go best for me when I make time early to get a lot of the requirements done.

Last night I still had a lot to do and was feeling discouraged.  I decided that discouraged or not, I was going to get up and do what I could.  Once I got going, I realized how little time it actually took for me to get done.  I just hope I can remember that the next time I'm struggling.

Now, I want to hear from everyone else.  What has been the hardest part for you so far?

elbows

Why use fists when you can use the sharp pointy things that they're connected to?
Also i have been trying to use my elbows a lot more because they are very good against aggressive fighters. So watch out :)

I am so pumped up for this red sash test

Do you think that we'll get the same people for this test. and can we grapple in a test? Because i think that Eli does. Do you? Do:) That was supposed to be a caver or not how do you do them Steven? :) ;) x) :P :o those are fun

Tests and Acts of Kindness

I should be teaching right now. That’s what I do for income – I teach. But after 18 minutes of class today, some kind of official emergency was announced and we were asked, through a speaker on the flashing fire alarm, to walk to the nearest exit. Always happy to comply when asked to stop working, I dismissed class for the rest of the period and accompanied my students outside, locking the door behind me.

Equally baffled, everyone from the three-story building stood outside. Some had coats, others in shirtsleeves, some with backpacks, others with no extra items. All were waiting for permission to access the building once again. Waiting and wondering.

Was it a bomb scare? Who called it in? Who would do such a thing? I watched my students, who were drifting away, singly or in groups. Sometimes a disgruntled student will do unexpected things.

Was it a fire? A cigarette could have been carelessly thrown in a restroom waste basket, with no harm intended but much harm resulting.

Was it a test? Before we can be sure they work, emergency systems have to be tested. Perhaps the fire marshall would show up soon, checking offices and classrooms for those so intent on their work that they did not respond to the alarms.

No emergency crews showed up. No explanation reached the crowd. I decided as I walked away that, regardless of the cause, it was a test. If one of my students called in a bomb scare, then I could have missed some sign and failed that person in some way. If it was a fire, some safety precautions were overlooked somehow. If the emergency system was being tested, it was partly because of those who tend not to listen to the alarms. Their safety is important too.

We have systems so that people are less likely to be overlooked, so that careless acts can be remedied, and so that our neighbors don’t get left behind. We have tests so that we can rise to the occasion and see what works well, and what needs to be improved. Tests are interruptions in our normal processes and can be viewed as irritations or opportunities, or even ignored as irrelevant. Being responsive to another’s needs might prevent a bomb scare. Being aware of safety and surroundings can prevent small accidents. Taking a moment to check on your neighbor can help make sure that no one gets left behind. Small acts of kindness begin to seem like random tests of daily living – with potentially great effects.

(I still don’t know why the emergency sirens went off, though.)

Point of View

How important point of view is! Some common wise sayings are based on it, such as one person's trash is another's treasure, and walking a mile in another's shoes. Sometimes when I struggle with a problem, or a set of emotions, I should resolve it alone, ride it out. But sometimes, when I am stuck, another's help is the key. Sometimes all that is needed is another point of view. Someone's experience of a similar event. Someone else's reasons. Someone's willingness to pitch in. Someone's finger pointing at the moon. When I'm fresh out of energy, ideas, and willpower, sometimes it's okay to borrow someone else's, to see from their point of view because mine isn't working. If I'm lucky, that borrowed point of view not only improves my outlook, but deepens a relationship as well. When we share, we grow stronger. On another day, when I am better grounded, I'll return the favor.

not grand or anything just stuff

sorry i have not been blogging i hope you'll forgive me............nope still kidding. but still. I'm not sure if i can be Sirius at this point in time nor can i spell wrighte (ha ha i made a funny) tell me if you have any funny things to say

fire fire fire.

almost the same as water, fire can be compared to life in many instances.
each piece of wood is burning so fiercely, and eventually begins to flicker, and after that breaks into coals which turn to ash. after the ashes of the fire are cold, they are scattered by the wind to nourish the new and growing.

burning with life, then the fire dies down, it runs out of fuel and slowly settles to the ground,
and just dies, quietly in its sleep. some though don't go out quietly at all do they, they go out in a bang of color and noise, they explode with super heated sap, or they get a bucket of water dumped on them.

well, life burns you sometimes

Inspiration

Steven, your blog about your experience in the cave as well as with life is unfortunate in that you spent that time in an unhappy situation. I hope you take my next statements in the way they are intended and not the way they may come out. Your trials were in a way fortunate for me. I have been trying all weekend to write a blog and can't find the motivation to write a single word. I have had doubts as to why I should push myself so hard. A part of me wanted to give it up also. Another part screams at me to train harder. I feel stuck in the middle of the two. I usually don't have this problem of motivation but it seemed that this weekend, I have. I didn't complete my workout yesterday either. I have not completed anything for today yet.

Now, the point I'm trying to make. Your trials were fortunate for me in that you were motivated to share them with the rest of us. I realized that I'm not the only one that's human. We all have those days. The fact that you also experience these feelings motivated me to write this blog. It motivates me to not only do my daily workout for today but also complete my workout from yesterday. I am sure that I'm not the only one who feels a great appreciation for the effort you make to train us. While we struggle with learning new moves, new forms, and new concepts, we rely on you, maybe more than you may realize, to be our anchor point. We look to you when we feel stuck. Your efforts inspire us to do more, to learn more, and for some of us, to find ourselves. Please remember when you wake up in a foul mood, when you feel stuck in your cave, that you are not alone in that cave. There are those that are following you into unknown territory. I hope that we can be a source of inspiration for you when that foul mood descends. Your efforts are not in vain.

Melody Hill Cave

One of the things I enjoy doing in my free time is cave survey. Lots of people go into caves and look around, but what I like to do is map them as I go. One cave I helped survey was Melody Hill Cave in Breckenridge County, Kentucky. We were continuing a survey that had been started by another team, so our first job was to travel to the other team’s last survey station and start mapping from there. When we got to our station, I understood why they had wrapped up that day of survey where they did. The passage at this point shrank from a generous four feet to a scant eight inches. So we started our survey.

Due to the confining nature of this passage, rather than go to each station drawing in the details I saw, I had to rough in the measurement points, then squirm through the passage making mental notes of what the passage looked like so that I could sketch it in when I got into the roomier three foot tall chamber. The cave had some more wide open spaces as big as ten feet tall, and some more constrictions as well. When we got to the final constriction my chest would not fit through, so the skinniest of our group continued on to wrap up the survey while I turned back to get to drier clothes outside the cave.

On the way out, I came to one of the constrictions and started to wriggle through on my belly with my pack strapped to my ankle behind me. My nostrils were filled with the scent of long packed mud, my ears were filled with the sound of my cave suit simultaneously scraping the floor and ceiling of the cave. I pushed with my toes and pulled with my fingertips. I moved about one inch. The passage was getting tight. I exhaled every molecule in my lungs and pushed forward again. I gained another inch. I tried again with no luck. I retreated a bit and took what seemed to be a completely different path through the constriction. Again, no luck. I tried this several times and then realized. . .

I was stuck. 

Just the other day, I woke up in a pretty foul mood. A foul mood for me usually does not mean I am crabby or angry, it usually means I want to do nothing. It usually means I want to quit. It means I want to give up, surrender, stop struggling to make my business work, stop pursuing my dreams, stop doing anything. I tried to force myself to do my ten tigers daily workout. I got some of it in, but not much. I started thinking that the whole project was a joke. I started regretting making the commitment.

My foul mood persisted through the day. I hid it in a corner while I taught classes. I kept it to myself at kung fu. I came home feeling even worse. The next day I woke up in a foul mood. Another day of forcing myself through my workout. I got it done this time though. It did not, however, make me feel any better. Another day of hiding my mood in a corner while I did the afterschool program and what felt like class after class after class of kung fu. I kept trying to push forward, kept trying to take another path with no luck. I tried this several times and then realized. . .

I was stuck.

With the scent of long packed mud in my nostrils, and the sound of my breathing filling my ears, I thought of stories of cavers getting stuck in caves. Stories in which their attempts at self rescue resulted in cracked ribs, stories in which cave rock had to be chiseled from around the caver, stories in which clothing was cut off the unfortunate caver who was then smothered in butter or some other food product that another caver was carrying through the cave. None of these sounded very appealing to me just then, especially emerging from a cave in January wearing only butter.

I stopped thinking about all those things. I closed my eyes, exhaled and squirmed backwards to a more comfortable spot (by more comfortable I mean about 12 inches tall). I rested there and calmly thought about my options. I knew that I had gotten through this spot on the way in, so I could get back through. The real obstacle was the fact that fatigue and cold had worked into my body so my thought processes were diminished somewhat. I thought about my options, I could retrieve the garden shovel from my pack to attempt digging a ditch to crawl through, I could wait for the cavers behind me to catch up so one of them could possibly find that sweet spot through the passage for me, or I could panic, scream for help, scratch at the cave walls around me, and exhaust myself, necessitating a cave rescue call out.

None of those options sounded great, but I made up my mind to wait for my caving partners to catch up with me. I turned off my lights, lay my head sideways so that my helmet rested on the ground and cushioned my head and listened to the cave. I listened to the dripping water in the distance and the empty silence between them. When it is that quiet, your ears seem to reach out, feeling, searching for a sound. Eventually, they found one. The sound of cavers talking and laughing at the end of a survey trip echoing through the dark distance, then the sound of cave suits scraping along the floor and ceiling of the cave. As they neared I greeted them, and let one pass me. He was six foot one and 130 pounds, I was five foot seven and 175. He can go places in caves that I cannot. I told them I was having trouble finding the line through this passage. He went ahead of me to the left and up a slope where the extra inch made all the difference. I followed suit and was soon talking and laughing and heading out into the sunshine.

I had no control over the size of the passage, I had no control of the fatigue in my mind and body once it had arrived, I had no control of the effects of the adrenalin that poured through my body when I first realized I was stuck, but I did have the choice on how to react to all that I was going through.

I had no control the other day of the mood I was in, no control of whatever cocktail of hormones was pouring through my body. I did, however, have a choice on how to react to all that I was going through. So I got up and did as much as of my workout as I could make myself do. I went in and taught my classes with as much energy and passion as I could muster. I went home and shared my feelings with my wife who was very patient with me. I let her go ahead of me and find that sweet spot to crawl through, and started following behind. Soon we were talking and laughing and heading back out into the sunshine.

I believe. . .

I believe you should read this:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=99478226

behind

I've got to do 2:15 of stances this day and I'm 56 minutes behind on sparring.....
*groan*