Crossroads

I've been thinking about mental changes (and perhaps physical too) that take place in the crucial juncture of blue/purple belts, when so many leave/reject the discipline of kung fu. Having just reached purple myself, I'm curious, a little afraid, and a lot worried about my own progress. Thinking about it more broadly might help.

I've begun seeing so many flaws in my own work that it's depressing. I know more than I did, but feel like I should be more capable than I appear to be. Not that I haven't had wonderful achievements – the kind that changed how I thought about myself – but as a result I begin to see more fully how difficult sustaining achievement is.

People who reach this stage might evolve several strategies. One is to end the struggle. It's too hard, it's too long, it takes too much time, I can't do it right, etc. Those moments of achievement were enough. That path offers a way out, a way to be satisfied with how things are. I can understand the choice to apply so much energy in some other direction (or no direction at all).

Another tactic could be to plod determinedly on, patiently, same-same, adding one more move, forgetting others, until, by sheer weight of numbers, the black belt testing time is reached. That test, then, can become an end, a release to the work and repetition. There, one can say, I've reached my goal. Quitting might not even be a conscious intention of reaching the test, but it is a viable point where one could exit with dignity, having gained a significant achievement. I could see wanting to carry that feeling along whatever other road I traveled, without expending more effort.

A third strategy could be to see the struggle as part of the continuing challenge. The feelings of fear, worry, inability are integral to a state of constant learning -- one more of many steps -- and the end is not a subject of contemplation. A flaw in performance provides direction for what to work on next. A forgotten form is an opportunity, not a failure. Fear is a signifier of awareness, not a weakness. Arriving at the black belt test could be, then, a marker of achievement, an opportunity to acknowledge and celebrate dedication to the path itself, and an attempt to walk with those who travel similarly.

The mid-upper range belts are crossroads, and not the only ones that will come and go. Change is hard, choices are unclear, and daily habit becomes more difficult to overcome than fear. The paths sometimes seem to all be uphill, comprised of too many steps. I get tired. I get dispirited. I get discouraged. And then I get afraid. When I am already defeated in mind, it doesn't take much to let my body follow. I can defeat myself without even getting out of my chair!

I read a short article the other day that emphasized how finding the right teachers was important, but the student still had to do the work, find the drive, push themselves. No one can do that for us. Perhaps this crossroads that people reach in kung fu is where they have to contemplate real change, not just temporary, or for fun. I've realized that my slow kicks aren't going to improve during classtime (though I have been shown the way to change them more than once). I see that my sparring competence is marred by my emotional incompetence, but to deal with that takes more than pretension. I've found that my understanding of the purpose of moves continues to be shaky and incomplete (seemingly regardless of how many times I see the application), and to internalize the information is going to take another level of awareness. I feel like I need a whole other gear in my mechanism, and I don't know if I have the strength to add it when I can barely keep everything running as it is.

The crossroads. Turn back? Turn left? Turn right? Or change for real.