Dedication, Spirit, and Courage.
Each of those words sums up one of my three favorite moments from the 2008 Olympic Games.
Dedication - This one will be on lots of people's lists. A swimmer took advantage of his natural physical traits and extreme dedication to his training and made history this year. He won eight gold medals in the Olympics. It wasn't easy. There was one race won by one one-hundredth of a second. He didn't do it alone. In one of the relays his team was behind on his leg and another swimmer came from behind to give his team the gold. His dedication to pushing his endurance, strength and speed as far as he could paid off and he is in the record books.
Spirit - Another swimmer got in the water with two swimmers whose previous times were far better than hers. She dove in and swam her heart out, she pushed her body as hard as she could. When she touched the wall she turned around and looked at the times. She leaped upwards in the water and pumped her fist in a show of pride and victory. She had come in dead last. She had also beaten her best time by two seconds. She wasn't celebrating a medal; she didn't even qualify for the finals. She was celebrating the fact that she took her strength, endurance, and speed to a new level.
Courage - An Olympic hurdler walked out onto the track in his warm-up suit in front of thousands of his home country fans. Over a billion people recognized him as one of China's two greatest athletes and expected him to take gold. He tried a warm-up run of the hurdles and it was obvious his ankle was injured. The injury was to his Achilles tendon. He stopped his warm-up run after two hurdles and crouched down to rub his ankle. When it came time to race he lined up in the starting blocks in obvious pain. The pistol fired, the runners took off, but there was a false start. The agony of the takeoff was obvious on his face. As the runners headed back to the starting blocks he showed to me what was one of the greatest acts of courage in the Olympic games. He removed the number from his shorts, turned his back on the expectations of a billion people and walked away from the largest moment of his life to protect his body from further and possible permanent injury.
Sometimes it takes the most courage to recognize that it is time to walk away from something.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Perspective
Perspective
One fine July morning I put on my glasses, took my allergy medicine,
put on my shoes with arch supporting inserts, and got up to train. I
said to my wife, "I hate having to take allergy medicine to breathe.
I hate not being able to train barefoot. I hate having to have my
glasses to read words on TV."
As soon as those three sentences got out of my mouth I could taste the negativity I had just started my day with. So I started thinking
about those statements. I started thinking about the facts behind
them. I decided to step away from my emotional reactions to those
facts. I have allergies and I don't breathe well if I don't use some
type of sinus or allergy medicine. I have frequent flareups of
plantar fasciitis and am bowlegged, so training without the proper
support for my feet causes my feet, ankles, and knees to ache. I am
nearsighted so I need my glasses to read things at a distance.
At this point I had stepped away from my reactions to those facts and
was able to look at those facts as if it weren't me experiencing them.
I thought about what I would tell someone who had those issues and
had asked me for advice in dealing with them. I discovered that my
advice would be the same: Take your allergy medicine, wear your shoes, wear your glasses.
Then I was able to smile at myself and find some gratitude.
I am grateful that I have found affordable effective sinus medicine.
I am grateful I have found shoes that give me the support I need.
I am grateful that I have glasses that help me see well.
One fine July morning I put on my glasses, took my allergy medicine,
put on my shoes with arch supporting inserts, and got up to train. I
said to my wife, "I hate having to take allergy medicine to breathe.
I hate not being able to train barefoot. I hate having to have my
glasses to read words on TV."
As soon as those three sentences got out of my mouth I could taste the negativity I had just started my day with. So I started thinking
about those statements. I started thinking about the facts behind
them. I decided to step away from my emotional reactions to those
facts. I have allergies and I don't breathe well if I don't use some
type of sinus or allergy medicine. I have frequent flareups of
plantar fasciitis and am bowlegged, so training without the proper
support for my feet causes my feet, ankles, and knees to ache. I am
nearsighted so I need my glasses to read things at a distance.
At this point I had stepped away from my reactions to those facts and
was able to look at those facts as if it weren't me experiencing them.
I thought about what I would tell someone who had those issues and
had asked me for advice in dealing with them. I discovered that my
advice would be the same: Take your allergy medicine, wear your shoes, wear your glasses.
Then I was able to smile at myself and find some gratitude.
I am grateful that I have found affordable effective sinus medicine.
I am grateful I have found shoes that give me the support I need.
I am grateful that I have glasses that help me see well.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Martial Arts Is Life
Tom Callos has been making the phrase "Out of the Dojo (Kwoon) and into the world." an important phrase to lots of martial artists. I never had that phrase to describe my thinking process, but when I heard the phrase I realized that has been my approach for a long time now.
In everything I do, I do my best when I use the same principles that lead to success in martial arts training, performing, or competing. I try to drive like a martial artist, spend money like a martial artist, play guitar like a martial artist, and so with all I do.
Basic principles in the martial arts include the idea of efficiency of movement. When performing a movement in the martial arts I want none of the movement I make to be extraneous. I want no wasted energy. The same applies when I drive. When I'm at a series of traffic lights it makes no sense to me to stomp on the gas to drive up to the next light just so I can stomp on the brake to stop on time. That wastes fuel, and brake pads. There are times in driving when a sudden acceleration can save you, but most of the time it isn't needed. Knowing how to drive efficiently is driving like a martial artist.
Grandmaster Tom Pardue has always said, "Defend yourself at all times." That is a phrase I have carried over to my spending habits. If I were to go out and buy everything I wanted, I'd have one heck of a Transformers collection, but I'd wind up losing my house due to debt that I would build up. Developing good money habits is spending like a martial artist.
When I perform a Kung Fu form; with or without an audience, my goal is to find that place where I give myself over to the performance. Part of being able to do that is having practiced the form so much that not much conscious thought is required. Playing a classical guitar piece is the same thing. When I have practiced a piece to the point that I don't have to worry about what is the next note, the next chord, the next fingering then my mind can surrender to the music at that point it is all about expression. That is playing guitar like a martial artist.
So, in everything you do, be a martial artist.
Sifu Steven O'Nan
In everything I do, I do my best when I use the same principles that lead to success in martial arts training, performing, or competing. I try to drive like a martial artist, spend money like a martial artist, play guitar like a martial artist, and so with all I do.
Basic principles in the martial arts include the idea of efficiency of movement. When performing a movement in the martial arts I want none of the movement I make to be extraneous. I want no wasted energy. The same applies when I drive. When I'm at a series of traffic lights it makes no sense to me to stomp on the gas to drive up to the next light just so I can stomp on the brake to stop on time. That wastes fuel, and brake pads. There are times in driving when a sudden acceleration can save you, but most of the time it isn't needed. Knowing how to drive efficiently is driving like a martial artist.
Grandmaster Tom Pardue has always said, "Defend yourself at all times." That is a phrase I have carried over to my spending habits. If I were to go out and buy everything I wanted, I'd have one heck of a Transformers collection, but I'd wind up losing my house due to debt that I would build up. Developing good money habits is spending like a martial artist.
When I perform a Kung Fu form; with or without an audience, my goal is to find that place where I give myself over to the performance. Part of being able to do that is having practiced the form so much that not much conscious thought is required. Playing a classical guitar piece is the same thing. When I have practiced a piece to the point that I don't have to worry about what is the next note, the next chord, the next fingering then my mind can surrender to the music at that point it is all about expression. That is playing guitar like a martial artist.
So, in everything you do, be a martial artist.
Sifu Steven O'Nan
Saturday, July 19, 2008
So today, with the house to myself; I decided to do something I have not done in a long time. I went to the closet and got out the bow my father gave me when he upgraded his. It is a PSC Infinity SR-1000, which means basically nothing to me. I pulled out the arrows I had set up for it at a local shop grabbed the keys to the shed, and went out to get the target I bought when I was given the bow.
Remembering that I was told not to shoot at the same spot repeatedly (there are five different targets printed on the thing) as that would wear out one part of the target prematurely I planned to start with the center target, and go around the outer four in a clockwise fashion.
As I stood there at 15 yards from the target, aware of the memories of my father shooting in preparation for deer season; (he would shoot from 90 yards with a 90 pound draw) I felt his shadow looming over me.
I told myself the same thing I've said time and time again to my martial arts students. "You aren't competing with anyone else, you are only competing with yourself." "Practice all the steps to the best of your ability." "Aim toward improvement and don't worry about perfection." I let go of the comparisons and expectations I was imagining and raised the bow.
thiiip-whack
thiiip-whack
thiiip-whack
What do you know? All three shots hit the bag, randomly, but at least they hit the bag.
Looking at the arrangement of my three arrows I decided that I would keep aiming at the center target. I didn't want to lose any arrows; and besides aiming at the same target doesn't wear out one part of the bag, that would require hitting it.
After a few more tries at 15 yards I decided to swallow a little more ego and halve my distance to the target. thiiip-whack, thiiip-whack, thiiip-whack.
My plan worked, by allowing myself an easier goal, I was able to start making small adjustments without the frustration of arrows landing randomly around the target. The feedback I was getting from my groupings was now making sense. After some work I moved back out to 15 yards.
That's when I realized. . . somewhere around 15 yards from the target is where I dropped the keys to the shed. . . I wish I had mowed the lawn first. . . where are those keys. . .
Oh well, thiiip-whack much better shot within an inch of my target, thiiip-whack, thiiip-whack. Nice grouping, now I'm getting somewhere.
As the muscles that go into shooting a bow fatigued my aim deteriorated. Becoming more distracted by the missing keys, the sweat running into my eyes, the mosquitoes buzzing didn't help either. I decided to wrap up with one last round.
thiiip-
No whack? I guess if the arrow doesn't hit the target you don't get a whack. Why did the arrows have to be camouflage?
thiiip-whack-ziiip
What was that? It turned out the arrow head came off after the arrow penetrated the bag.
Come on Steven, focus. Check your stance. Raise the bow. Pull. Breathe. Hold. Squeeze don't pull. . .
thiiip-whack
Bullseye.
Now I have to go back out there and look for those keys.
Remembering that I was told not to shoot at the same spot repeatedly (there are five different targets printed on the thing) as that would wear out one part of the target prematurely I planned to start with the center target, and go around the outer four in a clockwise fashion.
As I stood there at 15 yards from the target, aware of the memories of my father shooting in preparation for deer season; (he would shoot from 90 yards with a 90 pound draw) I felt his shadow looming over me.
I told myself the same thing I've said time and time again to my martial arts students. "You aren't competing with anyone else, you are only competing with yourself." "Practice all the steps to the best of your ability." "Aim toward improvement and don't worry about perfection." I let go of the comparisons and expectations I was imagining and raised the bow.
thiiip-whack
thiiip-whack
thiiip-whack
What do you know? All three shots hit the bag, randomly, but at least they hit the bag.
Looking at the arrangement of my three arrows I decided that I would keep aiming at the center target. I didn't want to lose any arrows; and besides aiming at the same target doesn't wear out one part of the bag, that would require hitting it.
After a few more tries at 15 yards I decided to swallow a little more ego and halve my distance to the target. thiiip-whack, thiiip-whack, thiiip-whack.
My plan worked, by allowing myself an easier goal, I was able to start making small adjustments without the frustration of arrows landing randomly around the target. The feedback I was getting from my groupings was now making sense. After some work I moved back out to 15 yards.
That's when I realized. . . somewhere around 15 yards from the target is where I dropped the keys to the shed. . . I wish I had mowed the lawn first. . . where are those keys. . .
Oh well, thiiip-whack much better shot within an inch of my target, thiiip-whack, thiiip-whack. Nice grouping, now I'm getting somewhere.
As the muscles that go into shooting a bow fatigued my aim deteriorated. Becoming more distracted by the missing keys, the sweat running into my eyes, the mosquitoes buzzing didn't help either. I decided to wrap up with one last round.
thiiip-
No whack? I guess if the arrow doesn't hit the target you don't get a whack. Why did the arrows have to be camouflage?
thiiip-whack-ziiip
What was that? It turned out the arrow head came off after the arrow penetrated the bag.
Come on Steven, focus. Check your stance. Raise the bow. Pull. Breathe. Hold. Squeeze don't pull. . .
thiiip-whack
Bullseye.
Now I have to go back out there and look for those keys.
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